Story Name: Wars End Kiss

Inspiration: The poster I bought of the original picture has inspired me to write a one shot about the war's end, and the overall spontaneity of the whole event portrayed in the picture, (which I think is cute, even though I am not a hopeless romantic; IT'S A SAILOR KISSING A NURSE! How cute can you get?)

Characters: I am not going to use the real names, partly because I just got back from vacation and don't feel like researching the real names…I know the sailor's first name (Glenn) which is a name I don't particularly care for, and besides, it's only based on the picture.

Author: Me, (Crystalpheonix77)

Its short, and kind of fluffy. But cute, I hope. Not my best….

Reviews would be appreciated, please enjoy. =]

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She stood at the top of the stairs, an image in splendor of what every young woman aspired to be. Her fair Irish skin in perfect contrast with the onyx hair gleaming in the winter's sunlight. In an act of celebration she pulled it loose from the entanglement of the up-do and let it fall all the way down her back in the soft curls God had gifted her with. The lady's green eyes sparkled like emeralds under glass in jewelry encasements and she batted her eyelashes as she hugged her friends.

The war was over, after all.

He stepped off the subway, lighthearted and gleeful to be home in America. Patriots from all around decided to stop in New York, the one place that celebration seemed to radiate from the quaking ground into everyone's moods and eyes. His friends stepped off the ride in close pursuit and looked around.

The bustling crowd pushed the three around, and finally they were forced, without a word, out of the subway station and up the stairs. He, who had lost his two friends in the crowd, was shoved into the fair lady who had been casually standing with her friends at the top of the stairs.

"Oh!" she cried, her good looks had not given her the grace needed to keep her balance. In a whirlwind of motion the man pivoted on his foot and grabbed her upper arms, until she had both feet on the ground and was sturdy enough to stand again.

"Excuse me Miss," He tipped his hat and smiled at her.

Holy…. His smile turned into complete awe as he watched her as she quietly brushed off her shoulders and then looked up to smile sweetly at him. He was handsome, with broad features and dark eyes to match his dark brown hair. In that instant she shrugged,

"I'm so happy for you!" she exclaimed, taken into the moment. The whole block had erupted into chatter and screams of glee, the feeling was infectious.

"Why is that?"

"Because the war is over, you can go home now!" With that she bounced and spread her arms to embrace the stranger in a hug. It was her way of welcoming home a brave soul.

The moment had taken a spin on him as well, her face was illuminated in the sunlight and it seemed to expose the inner most joy in her, which reflected on him. He took her in his arms and kissed the girl passionately. The girl was herself, a flirt, and did not struggle, but rather kissed him back equally in emotion.

It feels so good to be home, he thought. A woman's warm embrace had a way of welcoming home anyone. He didn't even know this girl, nor had he ever seen her before, but in that moment, he felt as if he did not even need too. The war was over, and he was home.

Out of his peripheral vision he saw a figure come running, afraid that it was an angry husband of a jealous boyfriend he broke off the kiss and looked up. Surprised to see a disappointed photographer, he kissed her again, moving his wrist back so the camera man could get the lady's face.

He let the woman go, and looked suddenly ashamed as the photographer ran off.

"Forgive me; my manners have eluded me…,"

The lady laughed, in a manner not unlike bell chimes and music.

"Only if you buy me a drink first, and tell me your name,"

"My name is Ricky, and it would be my pleasure to buy you a drink...Miss....,"

"Lucy, just Lucy,"