Drive - Liebgott and Webster

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"Christ Web, I didn't realise you were gonna be so fucking boring, if I had there's no way I would've agreed to drive you," Liebgott whined, noisily chewing his gum, a sound he knew got on Webster's nerves.

"I just don't want to Joe."

"Come on, loosen up a little! Just join in," Lieb huffed, trying to keep his eyes on the road. "We're going to a goddamn reunion not a funeral". Liebgott's mind drifted to the Easy Company reunion that the two men were heading to, wondering how his comrades were; it'd been four years since he'd laid eyes on any of them, apart from Webster and Chuck.

"Just because I don't want to sing along to the radio at full volume with you for five hours doesn't mean I'm boring," it was Web's turn to huff and pout, which only made Liebgott roll his eyes. Instead of responding, he turned the radio up and began to sing along, completely off-key.

"Don't sit under the apple tree with anyone else but me, anyone else but me, anyone else but me. Just remember that I've been true to nobody else but you, so just be true to me. Don't go walking down lovers' lane with anyone else but me, anyone else but me, anyone else but me."

"Is it too late to turn back?" Webster interrupted Lieb's obnoxious singing with a remark he knew would provoke a reaction.

"Web, why would you wanna turn back, huh? We need to see if Johnny grew that beard he kept whining about wanting!" as soon as the words left his mouth, Liebgott began cackling at his own remark.

"Maybe Lip's taken up woodwork like he always said he would?" David decided that pondering what had become of his fellow veterans was, for once, an idea of Lieb's that he could bear. "And I wonder how Winters is getting on working for Nixon?"

"I bet Tab's fucked every broad in Kokomo by now," Joe laughed yet again at his own perceived hilarity.

"Come on, lets sing, I love this song," Liebgott switched back to their previous conversation as soon as he heard Al Jolson come on the radio.

"Joe, for the twentieth time, I don't want to sing and I certainly don't want to hear you sing again."

"Quit being so stubborn, will ya, and have some fun for once!" Liebgott resumed his horrendous singing. After sitting there for a few minutes like a sulking child, David quietly began to join in.

"I'm sitting on top of the world, I'm rolling along, rolling along. Don't want any millions; I'm getting my share. I've only got one suit, that's all I can wear. A bundle of money don't make me feel gay. A sweet little honey is making me say: and I'm sitting on top of the world, I'm rolling along, rolling along. I'm quitting, quitting the blues, the blues of the world, I'm singing a song, just singing a song!"

"So the rumours are true, you are capable of having a good time! I'd never have believed it myself," Liebgott teased, flashing Webster his trademark smirk.

"You found me out," David managed a small smile, returning Joe's banter.

"Since you've loosened up a little, you wanna make a bet?"

"A bet on what?" David was extremely apprehensive.

"Twenty dollars says Martin's grown the beard."

"Deal, and another twenty says Skinny sneaks away with his broad for a quick one."

"Sure thing Web." Lieb replied, slightly surprised.

///

It was Webster's turn to smirk on the drive home, Liebgott spending the entirety of the five hour drive glowering, radio firmly off. 

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