A Kiss to Build a Dream On Afterword

I Was a Male War Bride
(1949)

I was a huge Cary Grant fan as a kid. I had seen a bunch of his movies, including this one (though for the longest time I thought it was "Mail War Bride") via American Movie Classics and my local video store.

When the challenge started, I was psyched to get this option, only to realize that my current local store didn't have it in stock. I had to think for a good long while to remember what I could of the film and proceeded to Clex it up. Given my prompt, I initially tried to cast Clark as the Brit in picture, but by the time I found images that would make good manips, it was clear that it wouldn't work out size-wise and that Clark had to be the US soldier in the picture.

I finished the "photo" and then got stuck on how to present it. I had already decided that Clark and Lex had met on a joint exercise and had fallen in love and gotten married in little more than a week - which is why Lex is so crazy in love in his letter. Clark had left nearly immediately after the marriage since he was being discharged with honor and lex was supposed to follow in the next few days. However, military bureaucracy being what it is, the gender thing was screwing things up (just as in the movie) and he was stuck in the UK trying to figure the mess out, missing Clark like crazy and building up massive amounts of angst about his future home and in-laws. All of which, I tried to cram into the letter as a link back to the movie. Hope you all enjoyed it. :)

Notes: My gratitude to Shattered who got the wheels on this thing out of the mud. If not for her ideas, I'd still be tearing my hair out in frustration. Also, thanks to Suzvoy who had a look at Lex's letter for me. Smallville caps courtesy of Oxoniensis and Alax. And in response to a request from Astrea, I am including the text of the letter.

A Kiss to Build a Dream On by betrue

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Text of the letter:

Clark,

No, that isn't right. Let me start again. Dearest Husband. Bearer of my violet kisses? My conjugal cock? It's all beginning to feel unreal since you left. The paperwork has become nightmare. Your young nation seems to have neglected to make provisions for military spouses of the prick-carrying variety and no amount of either swearing or condescension has sped the great bureaucratic wheel.

I'm relieved every morning to find the picture Sully took after our wedding. If it wasn't for the proof that it happened, I'd begin to believe the entire week a fantasy brought on by too much scotch and too little crotch. I wish there were more of you in it. I should have requisitioned your service snaps so I could see your honeyed lips more easily when I offend the flesh at night.

I miss you. You and your US rationed chocolate. I miss your hard hands and gentle sighs. But mostly I miss resting my eyes upon you.

I've already told you they pulled me to file work while I wait for my papers, yes? It's mind-numbing, Clark. Beloved.

In defense of what little mental acuity I retained after you'd finished with me, I've been recalling your stories of your farm. I've been completely stuck to imagine a farm lacking stone fences. Are you quite sure you don't live in the wild west? Or rather, have your mentioned me to your family? To this Littleton you incessantly reference? They must have welcomed you back with open arms and eligible daughters once they learned of your medals and commendations. Do you think they'll be very welcoming? I wouldn't be half so unsure if they wore diamonds and slurred their less noble neighbors, I am considered quite a catch in the wilds of London, you know.

I believe I have started to hate the little picture you left me. The date says it is the day we were married, but I know it was also the day you left. I never expected to have a twelve hour honeymoon.

Damn this war.

Write soon so I have something to read in the idle hours of the night when I can't sleep and think of you. And, if you please, send a photograph of my new home. Preferably with unclothed husband anticipating my arrival. Any heroic action you might undertake to bring me home faster wouldn't go amiss, either. If things continue on this route, I'll be forced to acquire some dresses and smuggle myself to you. Stay well.

Yours,

L