Disclaimer: I don't own anything you recognise. I just like to play with the characters
Author's Note: Hello everyone! Well, here it is: my very first fic in the MASH fandom. I must admit I'm rather nervous about this. I have no beta for this fic and since I'm not a native English speaker I apologise beforehand on horrible grammar and odd lines. I'll do my best!
For the ones who stumbled on this fic, because they were waiting for an update on my other fic's: I will not let my stories die! It's just that my computer did die, taking all my notes and half written chapters with him. I guess there are always things you have to learn the hard way!
So now with no further ado…
You could say a lot of things about both Hawkeye and Potter, but what you couldn't say about them was that they didn't fight in style. Because they did. In fact: their style was so wonderfully that the entire MASH 4077 unit was hoping that they would quit it really soon or do it somewhere where they wouldn't notice.
BJ Hunnicutt was trying to act as if he couldn't overhear the entire screamed conversation between the two, but of course he was listening just as intensely as everybody else. Not that it was possible to ignore it in the first place.
Klinger, dressed in a shocking pink tight dress that showed a lot of leg, had for once been smart enough not to enter Colonel Potter's office. He had stopped, while his hand was already reaching for the door and was now slowly backing away as if he was afraid to be hurted somehow. In BJ's eyes he looked like a terrified child and more in a need of a Section 8 then during all his silly grand escape plans.
Charles had duty in post op, but BJ had no doubt that he could hear every single word that was shouted. He had seen Margaret leaving post op twice now, determined to go to Colonel Potter's office and calm the two down, but twice she had changed her mind and hurried back inside.
Suddenly the door to the office opened and Klinger literally jumped behind one of the tents to be out of view. On every other day BJ would have laughed his eyes out and joked about it, but not today. Out came Radar, with a worried look on his face, scanning the area as if he wanted to decide what the best escape route was. The door was still open and the screaming got even louder, so Radar quickly made his move and ran towards his beloved animals to seek their comfort.
Then a second time the door opened, or this time it was more thrown open in anger and probably the entire MASH unit, including patients, held it's breath. Out stormed Captain Benjamin Franklin Pierce, better known as Hawkeye, slamming the door almost dramatically shut behind him and without a moment of hesitation he set course for the Swamp.
"Beej!" he yelled already before he even entered it.
Slowly BJ looked up, practising his 'I haven't heard a thing and am therefore totally and completely innocent'-look, "Hawk?"
"Let me go…"
"What?" BJ interrupted. He really had no clue what Hawk was talking about and on this moment he was just hoping with every inch of his body that Hawkeye wasn't talking about deserting or something as drastic as that.
Hawkeye made an impatient move with his hand. "Let me go to the 8063."
Suddenly BJ understood. It looked as if this unusual tension had damaged his thinking cap. The 8063 had been in need for an extra surgeon and BJ actually had been packing during the whole consternation.
"Are you sure about that, Hawk?" he knew how much Hawkeye hated to go to the 8063, probably because most of the time he went he ended up almost getting killed or at least in grave danger. Only thinking about an angry Major Houlihan made BJ understand why Hawk didn't like going to the 8063 in the first place.
Defeated Hawk sat down on his own bunk and suddenly BJ saw it. Hawk looked more tired then he had ever seen. Even more tired than after a 24 hour plus shift. He looked tired of everything; tired of this war, tired of being away from Crabapple Cove, tired of operating on kids that were supposed to sit with their girlfriends in the cinema. And this fight, which seemed to have started about absolutely nothing worth fighting over, was probably not really improving things.
"Are you sure?" BJ asked softly, even though he already knew the answer.
"Yes. Yes, I'm definitely sure…"
"Well," BJ said with a big grin. "Why aren't you packing then?"