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"It's Lottie, actually. Just Lottie," The young blonde woman had replied.

"Even finer!" Huey cheered. Theo nodded at her and smiled.

"Well it's a pleasure to meet you Lottie." He replied. Theo took a comb to his hair now, listening intently to Dod tell her story. There was something about women from overseas. So much more interesting then women from back home. And then, what happened next took him buy surprise. Not the bad kind of surprise, but the good kind. And the good kind of surprises were the kind of surprises that Theo enjoyed more than any other kind of surprise.

Delilah Blanc was a hell of a woman he had met last year while visiting some of the French soldiers he had befriended during the war. She was a beautiful woman with a voice to match, and a good friend to boot. Hopefully she would make a good wingman too-- It appeared that Delilah and Dod were old friends, and interesting development. Quietly, the man in the foreign land lit the cigarette that was nestled behind his ear. The women were talking amongst each other.

"Meeting friends in a place like this...I always said that music has a way of bringing people together. Lettin' people find each other know what I mean?" The musings of an old man dug into Theo's thoughts.

"Hell of a thing baby. Hell of a thing..." The younger musician returned. He looked to the line of women sitting beside him on the couch. Delilah had squeezed herself between him and Dod, with Charlotte--Lottie--, sitting on the very far end, next to her. Then, he looked down at this feet--there sat what remained of his cola & cognac; a melted ice cube and a nibbled on lime. He grabbed the glass. "Well then..." And with that, Theo flew up from the couch.

"Delilah!" The tall man began, as he sort of glided over to the phonograph in the corner of the space. "You know I love hearing you talk that beautiful language, but how come you didn't tell me that you kept such good company?" The table the phonograph sat on had a pull-out compartment that housed a selection of tunes. He picked out another, little more lively one, and switched out the records. "Let's livin' things up a little bit. We've only got a few more hours here after all, might as well make the most of it baby." The tune crackled on, and Theo made a slow b-line to the liquor cabinet.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xbsWTgWRTFo

He had changed his outfit a bit from earlier that day when he first arrived, he was now wearing an oversized, silk, loose fitting blue and gold adorned kimono over a relaxed fitting white button down. He still had on the same pair of black slacks & loafers, and his hat of course. The ornate kimono caught wind as he walked, making him look even more majestic than he tried to be.

"Pick your poison ladies. The drinks come with the cabin, so let's make sure to use em'." He poured himself a shot of cognac, and then prepared a shot for each of the guests in the cabin, what they contained varied from vodka, to gin, to whatever the hell else they stocked him with. It was a sampler of sorts. Then, with the drinks in hand, he handed on out to each of the ladies, then to Huey--who rarely drank.

"Alright everyone--" With a wide, toothy grin, Theo raised his glass. Arm outstretched, he hovered above all of them. "To new friends, old friends, and this side of the world treating me way better than the states ever did!" And with a cheer, he took his shot.

"I lived in France during the war," Dod explained to Lottie, "In the end it was about as good a place to hide as England, but I would never trade my time in France for anything."

"Pick your poison ladies. The drinks come with the cabin, so let's make sure to use 'em," Theo announced. When Dod looked to him and noticed for the first time that he had changed clothes.

"Might as well take a Whiskey Smash as my last one ended up getting smashed," Dod said wit a quirk in her lips. She stood up and went over to make her own drink.

"Alright everyone," Theo said lifting his own glass, "To new friends, old friends, and this side of the world treating me way better than the states ever did!"

"Santé!" Dod said taking a sip of her drink, "Now if you'll excuse me I should probably get my stuff if we are to stay here for the journey. I'll grab your stuff as well Lottie." With that Dod momentarily left the Presidential cabin and made her way back to the one she had originally found. Just outside the door were two of them men from earlier, the polite, young boy who rekindled the fight and the man with the love for music.

"Are you alright?" she asked the younger man, briefly leaning against the wall. Though completely unneeded, Dod did find it rather noble of him, especially considering they were complete strangers. There was some thudding going down the corridor, going away from where they stood, but Dod could still see what was happening. It was the great bimbo of a man trying to be helped by a small woman, but he kept shoving her away.

"Poor dame," Dod whispered, tilting her head to rest on the wall, "Though nothing can be done," with that she walked into the cabin and slowly gathered her things, as well as the items that she saw Lottie handle earlier, her arms getting quite full.

Not long after waiting the man’s response, the woman who he had defended earlier had appeared before him again, and not only with a gleaming smile that would make you believe that she had never had a care in her life, especially not had been wailed on not but ten minutes prior, but also with fresh whiskey. This woman does not miss a beat, thought Everette, commenting on her not taking any time to refill her cup and let nothing affect her. But then his worn eyes, the eyes of a man that had seen too much, met her lively eyes and he saw the thought she had.

Poor bloke, he wasted his fists. I obviously had it.

Again, he damned his Tennessee blood and his American soul; it was a characteristic for America to be the first to help and the first to be criticized for it, whether they deserved it or not. Criticism or help. He wished he thought of where he was, the European way of letting it be and the won battle is a win, but where he grew up he knew of the Hatfield and McCoys. Helping was right and there was no victory until the war was one, no celebration and no rest for a mere won battle, and as well as the mentality of finishing the fight. But, beyond his spirit, he had other reasons he was compelled to help the dark haired Dod.

It was because she reminded him of someone; reminded him of her. A touchy subject that attached him to the stranger since she was completely a spitting image, but also compelled him to be bitter to her, never trusting her in fear she will turn out like the last. In truth, he would stay distant, or try his best, and see where that led him. Besides, even from a mile away he could sense that the shy one from earlier, the blonde, was highly taken by her, smitten even. She began to speak.

“Are you alright?”

She seemed only half concerned, as if he had done it himself and he was silly for it, and in her defense it was completely true.

“Lucky bastard- er, please pardon my language,” he said rather awkwardly, flooding memories he had tried to forget pouring in, he had forgotten he was not familiar with this woman as he was the last.

“One of them got off a lucky shot, and I would be done in if not for this here camarade,” he said this in almost fluent French he had learned fighting alongside them in war, “mais un counteau emporte poings,” Everette added, this time in less impressive French but still a noble attempt.

She remarked upon a woman in the corridor, but he paid little heed. He was fixated on the moving and breathing mirror image of his past, and somehow his thoughts turned back to his coin. He reached for it, but only found an empty pocket.

You’re on your own now, Everette old boy, he thought to himself. He felt that this trip was about to get interesting, but he did not know of that was a good thing...