*snrk*
***
BJ sighed and blinked back tears as he read the letter from Peg. Oh, the things she said. The benal, pointless things she wrote about. How could
she, with her beautiful blonde curls, deep yet shallow blue eyes and disposition of an angel, ever be able to understand the horrors of war, and
the horrible things that it makes otherwise decent people do.
He'd been so worried, for so long, ever since the day he woke up from a night of drunken blackouts with Hawkeye in his arms, trembling like a
child and whispering the names of Trapper and his mother. They were both naked and when BJ screamed and jumped away, the look on Hawk's
face was so tragic and horrible that he just couldn't bring himself to run, even though Frank, then Charles, was in the room and could wake up
at any moment.
He visited Father Mulcahy, but he ended up leaving because the father had gotten so up-close and touchy-feely that he felt damn
uncomfortable. The Colonel seemed to have much the same problem.
Now, Hawk was sighing as he saw Klinger, filling in for Radar, bringing the mail.
"Oh boy, here we go. Another bunch of letters NOT from Trap." He said.
BJ was very confused, and also angry. It had been almost 3 days since Hawk last mentioned Trapper, and BJ had naively hoped it'd be the last
time he ever heard that name.
What a joke. I sound like a lovesick teenager. If Peg could see me now... he thought, letting out a whimper.
The door opened and Klinger came in, dressed in a crocheted sweater set and a pleated skirt. He was one of the few members of the camp
who was aware of not only BJ and Hawk's affair, but Trapper and Hawk's affair before, and he found it absolutely hilarious. He wished he'd have
thought of it, although odds are, he couldn't find any man drunk enough. He'd considered Henry Blake, but the late Lt. Colonel had been so
oblivious to even the most obvious of homosexual activity that even if he'd made advances, he'd probably never get through.
"Good morning, officers, gentlemen... Major." He said.
"If the 'officers' was directed at me, I resent that." Hawkeye said.
"All right, let's see what we've got... Pierce, B.F. Hunnicutt, B.J. Hey, your initials are almost the same!"
BJ sighed. Yet another thing Peg would never understand.
"Winchester, Charles. Say, what's in the box, Major? Y'know, back home, we have a tradition... when someone gives you something, you give
them back 10 percent." Klinger said, tossing the oblong box from hand to hand.
"You insolent fool, give me that!" Charles snapped, reaching out in an attempt to snatch the box out of mid-air.
Unfortunately, he missed, smacking the box with his hand and knocking it onto the floor, where it landed on Klinger's foot. The contents, which
turned out to be a rather expensive bottle of cognac, shattered and spilled all over.
"You addle-headed flounderer! Look what you've done!" Charles exclaimed.
"Oh, my foot!" Klinger cried, hopping around, clutching his high-heeled foot in his hands. He wasn't watching where he was going and he
hopped right into Charles' bedside table, losing his balance and knocking the contents onto the floor. He was quick to follow it, and he fell
screaming onto the pile of junk.
"Klinger, you imbecile!" Charles screamed.
"Oh, Major! I think I really hurt myself..."
"Get up!"
"I can't!"
"Charles, if you wouldn't leave your furniture lying around, people wouldn't trip over it." Hawkeye said.
"Oh, for god's sake, Klinger, take my hand." Charles said with exasperation.
Klinger complied, and Charles pulled him to his feet. Immediately, however, his ankle buckled and he fell into Charles' arms.
"Ohhh, my foot!" Klinger moaned.
"Well, you fool. You've gone and sprained your ankle."
"Lick up some of that cognac to dull the pain." BJ said, remembering the time Peg sprained her ankle when they were out bike-riding. How
different this was. Another thing to omit from his letters to her. She could never understand...
"Klinger, take that shoe off before it becomes a part of you." Hawkeye said, remembering the time he sprained his ankle and Trap had to carry
him back to the Swamp. The beautiful love they'd shared... and then Trap left... and he didn't even write a NOTE!
"You lout. Will neither of you help me carry him?" Charles asked.
"I'm busy." Hawk sighed.
"I've got things to do." BJ whispered.
"Clods." Charles muttered, then, despite his history of back problems, lifted Klinger off the floor and carried him away.
"Ah, blossoming love. And we can say we were there when the first sparks began to fly." Hawk said.
"We'll make history."
"Y'know... speaking of sparks flying..." Hawk said suddenly.
BJ glanced at him, scoffing.
"Trap didn't write, so now I'm good enough?" He asked.
Hawk's response was to leap on top of him, and as they sunk down onto the bed, Radar opened the door.
"Uh, sirs? Are you busy?"
Hawk broke away from their makeout session long enough to ask what Radar wanted.
"Oh, nothing, sir... I just thought you ought to know--"
At that moment, the door opened again and Colonel Flagg entered.
"On your feet, gentlemen... if that's your REAL gender persuasion." He snapped.
The pair took another second or two to grind their hips against each other and then they lazily got to their feet.
"Hey, what were you guys DOING, anyway?" Radar asked.
"Yes, what WERE you doing, Captains... if that's your real rank." Flagg said.
"Uh, what did it look like?" BJ asked, wiping his mouth.
"Gosh, I don't know..." Radar said, shrugging.
"I tell you one thing, I didn't like it." Flagg said. "I might have a word or two to say to your C.O. about this... funny business."
"Funny business?" Radar asked with confusion. Suddenly, he gasped and looked at Hawkeye accusingly. "You mean... THAT was... funny
business? THAT kind of funny business?!"
"No, no. The OTHER kind of funny business." Hawkeye assured him.
"Oh. Oh, boy. I got scared for a minute." Radar said, breathing a sigh of relief.
"Captains, drop your pants." Flagg said, suddenly. "I've decided that what I need from this unit, only you two fine young potential commies can
give me."
BJ's eyes widened. Rape? Oh, Peg, his poor, foolish Peg. How could he ever explain this to her?! He'd be scarred for life, and she'd never know
why.
Hawkeye's eyes narrowed. He knew Flagg. Flagg was just the kind of guy to do his dirty work, leave, and never write a STINKING NOTE.
"Radar, go get Colonel Potter." BJ said, tears coming to his eyes as he prepared to undo his belt buckle.
"Boys, listen, this is just between us." Flagg said.
"You're sick, Flagg. You're worse than Frank, and Frank used to sit and stare at us until we'd come over and scratch behind his ears." Hawk
snarled.
"Hawk, I think that was that puppy that got run over, causing Margaret to bare her soul to you and prove that she has the soul of a woman
inside those gold oak clusters." BJ whispered.
"Oh, right. But Frank was pretty bad."
Radar came back, this time with Colonel Potter in tow.
"All right, Flagg. What's this I hear about some sweet, sweet lovin'?" Potter asked.
"Just a routine fact-finding task, Colonel."
"Flagg, I'm an old man, and I've been away from my wife for a long time. These men are young, capable, one is married... any facts you need to
find in them, I'm sure I've got tucked away somewhere, too." Potter said.
"Colonel, are you suggesting..."
"I'm not SUGGESTING, I'm ORDERING! VIP tent, 5 minutes!" Potter barked.
"Boy, does he need a lay." Hawk muttered to BJ.
Flagg turned back to Hawk and BJ and put his hands behind his back.
"Well, boys. Looks like you got off the hook this time. I'll have the entire CIA's eyes on you. Now, turn around."
They sighed and did as he said, listening to the footsteps and the closing door.
"Don't forget to WRITE!" Hawk called after him.
***
"Well, Klinger, how was that?" Charles asked, turning to Klinger under the sheets.
"Boy, considering my sprain and bruises, that was pretty good." Klinger said dreamily.
"Certainly. By the way, you're a hideous human being and I'm going to spend the next 3 hours under a blast of scalding water to cleanse
myself of your essence."
"Oh, Major..." Klinger whispered, rolling over onto his side. Unfortunately, he forgot that they were lying on a single cot, and he ended up
rolling out of bed, landing on his wrist. A loud CRACK was heard, and he screamed in pain.
"Imbecile." Charles moaned, pulling his pants back up. "All right, Max, let me see..."
***
"Hawkeye, you have to forget about Trapper." Mulcahy said gently, placing his hand over Hawkeye's.
Hawk looked at the father with depth in his soulful eyes, then shook his head and sighed.
"Father, that's great advice... but all I did is ask you to pass the salt."
Mulcahy blinked and laughed nervously. He slowly slid his hand off of Hawk's, subtly intertwining their fingers and admiring the almost
electric sensation of their contact.
"You know, I find that when trying to forget a person, it can be very helpful to spend several minutes a day thinking about them and forcing
others to listen to what you have to say about them." Mulcahy said.
"Oh yeah?" Hawk asked.
"Certainly. I'd be pleased to... help you with that. I have an hour or so free later on tonight... maybe you could come to my tent, and tell me
about all the... things you and Trapper used to do together. Help the healing process along."
"Father, he's not dead." Hawk said testily.
"No, but just the same, it's a loss. Oh, we all miss him. I remember the jokes he used to tell." Mulcahy said fondly.
"We all remember different things, Father." Hawk said, recalling the almost dead way they'd make love. It was almost as if Trapper had no
personality.
"Well, indeed."
"Thanks, Father... but I can handle this myself." Hawk said in a tone of voice that said just the opposite. Before long, he found himself
collapsing into hysterical tears and he gripped the father like there was no tomorrow.
"Oh, my... Hawkeye. You... poor thing..." Mulcahy whispered, his heart pounding.
He was close! He was so close!
'Oh, Lord, give me strength!', he thought desperately.
***
Charles finished wrapping Klinger's hand, tenderly stroking the young man's cheek.
"Oh, Max. You're so beautiful... but I hate you so much. How can this be?" He whispered.
"I don't know, Major." Klinger said. "OW! I just pulled a muscle in my finger!"
"Oh, dear. Which one?"
"The middle one." Klinger flipped it upward so Charles could get a look.
"Well, Max, under other circumstances, I might be insulted by this." Charles said, taking Klinger's hand and massaging his finger.
"Oh, Major, that's great. You're so good to me... and after I broke your bottle of cognac and everything!"
Charles gritted his teeth, and Klinger let out a yelp.
"Major, that's a little hard."
"Damn you for reminding me." Charles snarled. "I've wasted enough time on this, I believe. If you would excuse me..."
"Oh, wait, Major... one more thing!" Klinger said, sliding off the chair. He stood up, but immediately konked his head against the shelf bolted
to the wall. It knocked him unconscious and he slumped to the floor.
Charles shook his head in disbelief.
***
Dear Peg,
Everything is fine. The war is nice. I saw a rabbit yesterday. Please write back.
Love,
BJ
BJ shook his head at the blatantly untrue statements before him, then angrily crumpled up the paper and threw it on top of Charles' overturned
bedside table.
It wasn't fair. God, it just wasn't fair.
She was his wife. For better or worse. This was the worst worse that ever worsted and he couldn't say a word to her.
Oh, he could... but how could a nice blonde from the suburbs EVER hope to understand? It was just horrible.
Dear Peg,
Everything is shit. This morning, a boy half our age bled all over the table and none of us could stop it. I get so lonely I can't keep my hands
off of Hawkeye. Hawk. My best friend. He can't keep his hands off me either, but he calls me the wrong name.
I can barely remember what you look like. I can barely remember what real life is like. This guy here isn't me. It's my body, but it's not me. I
don't know if I'll ever see myself again.
Everything's just shit. I wish I were dead.
Love,
BJ
The door opened, and he quickly slid the paper and pencil under the pillow. It was Potter, smiling, wearing a perfectly pressed uniform.
"Ah, son. Wondering if you've seen Pierce."
"Go ask someone else. I'm not his keeper." BJ snapped.
Potter raised his eyebrows, then turned to leave.
"Boy, someone could sure use a good lay." He muttered.
BJ whimpered.
"Peg..."
***
"Ugggghhh... where am I?" Klinger asked, blinking. He was lying on a cot in pre-op.
"You're on a cot, in pre-op." Charles said, reading my last sentence.
"What happened?" Klinger asked.
"You knocked yourself out, you clumsy oaf. This is the third time today I've had to come to your rescue! Oh, and by the way, while you were
knocked unconscious, I took the liberty of... taking liberties with you." Charles explained.
"Oh, Major! How can I ever repay you?" Klinger asked.
"There is no need, you repulsive little snake. May I have the good fortune to never cross paths with you again! Good day!" Charles snapped,
turning to leave.
"Oh, wait, Major!" Klinger said, sitting up. "Listen, am I gonna be okay?"
"What possible relevance does that have to my leaving?" Charles exclaimed.
"Well, I'd kinda like to know."
"Yes, yes. You'll be fine. Just stop hurting yourself!"
"Well, that's good advice." Klinger said, rubbing his eyes.
All of a sudden, he cried out in pain and drew his hand back.
"What's the matter now?!" Charles screamed.
"Oh, god! I poked my eye out! Major, quick! Is it bleeding?!"
"Let me SEE it!"
"It's bleeding! I'm blind, I just know it!"
"Look at me."
"I can't! I'm blind!"
"Klinger, you are not blind! Look at me!"
Klinger reluctantly turned in Charles' direction, blinking at him.
"I can see you."
"Hence your not being blind."
"Oh, Major! Oh! What a beautiful sight you are..."
Charles melted.
"Oh, Max... do you mean it?"
"Oh, do I ever."
With that, their inhibitions all but disappeared and they soon found themselves rolling around in a fit of passion.
The door opened, and Radar walked in, eyes lowered.
"Major Winchester, sir, Colonel Potter wants to see you."
Charles refused to answer for a moment, and Radar frowned.
"Hey, what are you guys doing?"
Klinger broke their kiss, gasping for breath.
"Kid, what's it look like? You wanna mind your own business?"
"Hey, I just came in here to get Major Winchester. Didn't you sprain your ankle or something?" Radar asked.
"Oh, yeah. He's a... he's one hell of a doctor!"
"Oh, Max, you're beautiful! You're beautiful!" Charles exclaimed.
"Hey, listen, sir... I wouldn't bother you, except the colonel says it's real important..." Radar said, trailing off.
"Colonel Potter can wait 15 minutes, Corporal! I'm busy!"
"Oh, MAJOR!" Klinger squeaked.
"Well, what should I tell him you're busy doin'?"
"Say anything you like!" Charles said dismissively.
"Hey, you're a doctor! I mean, I don't know this stuff!"
"Kid, get lost!" Klinger yelled.
"Jeez! I'm goin, I'm goin!" Radar yelped, closing the door as Max threw his remaining shoe at him. "Boy, I'm glad I didn't decide to be a doctor.
That stuff could get you thrown out of church back home!"
***
"All right, if you won't talk to me, then you've got to talk to the Colonel!" BJ declared, throwing his hands in the air. "I wash my hands of it.
You're so hung-up on the bastard you can't even operate."
"Yeah? Well, I'd like to see YOU operate when the love of your life just decided to take off without so much as a damn letter. TWICE."
Hawkeye snarled.
"Hawk, it was a year ago! He's gone! And Carlye, I won't even mention her. We're all lonesome!"
"Lonesome?! Are we, Beej? Cause last I checked, you have a beautiful wife and daughter to go home to. A beautiful home to go home to, and
that's not going anywhere. No matter how much you change, they'll stay the same. They'll love you no matter what. They'll never ABANDON
you!"
"The SAME?! My daughter's aging before my very eyes and I'm not there to see it, and you have the gall to say it'll all be the SAME?!" BJ
screamed. "What about Crabapple Cove? That town hasn't changed since 1930 and you expect me to feel sorry for you, just because a couple
flings didn't work out and a few people left without saying goodbye?! Hey, maybe they knew that just getting when the getting was good was
the only way they COULD get out. You can't leave a damn thing alone, you have to analyze everything to death. I know that, and I'm sure Carlye
and Trapper knew that."
"What the hell is THAT supposed to mean?!" Hawk asked defensively.
"By the time you'd gotten a satisfactory excuse for their leaving, spent an appropriate time brooding and angsting and then decided you were
'over' them and they were free to go, you'd be a couple of old men! Or an old man and an old woman. You're not an easy guy to cross, Hawk,
and maybe they figured it'd be easier that way... for BOTH of you." BJ explained.
"How can you say that? I mean... if they wanted to go that bad, who would I be to stand in their way?"
"Are you serious? Stand in their way? You'd derail the train! You'd let the air out of their tires, and you'd get on your soapbox and that'd be
that."
Hawk shook his head, sitting down on the bed.
"You know, this all goes back to when I was seven years old and my parents got home late from the restaurant..."
BJ hesitated, then saw the sad, puppy-dog-ish look on Hawk's face, then sighed and put his arms around him.
"It's okay. Shh... it's okay."
"I loved them, Beej. I loved them... I loved them... I HATED THEM!!!"
"I know. I know, Hawk..."
***
Dear Peg,
Everything is fine.
Really.
You'd be surprised.
You really would.
Love,
BJ
FIN