"You what?!" A voice boomed from the living room Mila was seated in. She had left home at dusk to meet with Harvey and Catherine Lingard, the SIS agents she was tasked with reporting to. Having harbored an officer in the German army for nearly two weeks, Mila had figured it was time to come clean with the pair, a decision she was now regretting.

"What was I supposed to do? Let him bleed to death at my front door?" Mila shot back, taking a defensive tone at the sound of Harvey's accusatory one.

"It would've bloody beat nursing him back to health like a sick puppy," Harvey replied, pacing across the room. Mila let out an exasperated sigh.

"I would appreciate it if you stopped treating me like some disillusioned child."

"Then stop acting like one!" He bit back. "What? Do you think he would've done the same for you? If he knew for a second who you really were, you don't think he would have turned you into the bloody Gestapo or shot you himself?"

"Of course I don't! But he doesn't know who I am, does he?"

Harvey huffed, turning away from her to continue his pacing.

"Harv, maybe she has a point," Catherine spoke for the first time since Mila had told them the news. She pressed on at Harvey's look of confusion and annoyance. "Think about it. A German officer winds up dead on the doorstep of a girl who is scheduled to start a job at the War Office just a mere two weeks later? Don't you think that would raise more questions than the situation we find ourselves in now?"

Harvey's brows furrowed as he contemplated Catherine's words.

"Besides, the road he was on is used heavily by troops traveling north. I'm sure within a few days he will be on his way somewhere miles away and we can forget about the whole ordeal," Catherine added, turning her attentions to Mila. "Has he said where exactly he was heading?"

Mila shook her head. "I didn't ask."

Catherine nodded. "Well if he's a captain like you say, I'm sure he's headed somewhere much more important than Den Haag."

"In the meantime, I want you keeping your distance from him, do you understand?" Harvey cut in.

"I have been," Mila retorted, bitterly.

"Well," Harvey trained his eyes on Mila, "At least you've been doing something right."

~

Mila wrapped her coat snuggly around her, her dark auburn curls blowing in the bitter, winter wind. She hadn't expected her meeting with the Lingard's to go any better than it had, though Harvey speaking to her as though she were a silly child had angered her all the same.

Walking up the steps of her house, she fumbled with the key in her gloved hand before jamming it into the door. She clicked it open, reveling in the warmth that flooded her face as she stepped inside.

The sound of a chair scratching against the wooden floor caused Mila to jump. Josef, who had been sitting at the kitchen table, now stood in front of her. "Oh, I didn't realize you were up," She said quickly.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you," He replied, taking a step forward. "I just couldn't take another second alone in that room," He added, nodding down the hall in the direction of the spare bedroom.

"I'm sorry," She replied, stuffing her gloves in the pockets of her coat before taking it off. "I popped out to go to the grocery store," She added, hanging her coat on a hook beside the door.

"Do you need help?" Josef asked.

"Help with what?"

"... Bringing the ... groceries in?" Josef replied, furrowing his brow in confusion.

"Oh," Mila stammered, glancing around. "Turns out," She began, reaching for a small pamphlet that lay on the kitchen table. "You can't buy groceries without these." She held up the booklet of ration stamps with a nervous grin.

Josef smirked, "No, I'd say you can't." Turning to the refrigerator, which was nearly empty, Mila opened it and peered inside, desperate for something to occupy her attention. "Good news is," Josef called from behind her. "I don't think you'll be making any more meals for two after tonight."

"Oh?" Mila questioned, keeping her eyes fixed on the half empty bottle of milk that lay on the top shelf of the refrigerator.

"That is..." Josef began, pausing to take a step closer to her. "If you think I'm well enough to leave."

Mila stole a glance at Josef out of the corner of her eye. He wore a white cotton t-shirt with the green pants of his uniform, though Mila hadn't been able to get the blood out of them entirely, even after several washes. She turned around to get a proper look at him. His cheeks, which had been ghost white for nearly two weeks, had regained their former color. And his blue eyes seemed to have a sparkle to them that hadn't been there before. He was handsome. There was no denying it. Mila shook the thoughts away, her cheeks flushing a light shade of pink.

"You certainly look as though you're feeling better," Mila spoke. Turning her attentions to the cupboard now, she pulled the flour canister from its shelf.

"I am," Josef replied, only a few feet away from her now. Milla swallowed, turning around to face him.

"Well, I'm sure you have important things waiting for you, so as far as I'm concerned you've got a clean bill of health." Mila smiled at him, though her stomach turned flips under his gaze.

"Wonderful," Josef replied, returning her smile. Mila nodded, turning back around to the flour canister she had set on the counter.

"When do you think you'll be leaving?" She asked casually, scooping a cup of flour into a large mixing bowl.

"First thing in the morning I suppose," Josef replied, a faint hint of disappointment in his voice. He leaned against the opposite counter, watching Mila as she worked. "I wouldn't want to overstay my welcome of course," He added with a smirk.

"I don't think being shot and almost dying counts as 'overstaying your welcome'," Mila retorted.

Josef chucked. "Touché."

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