(no subject)

[swear-jar.livejournal.com]

Title: Untitled.
Author: Jess.
Pairing: Poss. a little Hawkeye/Trapper.
Rating: G.
Feedback: Any and all, please.
Notes: Man, their banter is fun to write, but I’m not sure I have the skill to handle a M*A*S*H fic on the scale I’d want it to be. This, however, could very well be the prologue to something bigger. That is, if I wasn’t such a lazy cow. Something I like about this: The banter between Hawkeye and Trapper. I think I did okay. Mostly, it's just fluff. A little slashy too. Because I can't resist.


Another beginning of a sunny morning in Korea, the birds were chirping, and Doctors Pierce and McIntyre were sound asleep in a drunken pile. Everything in its right place. Except, of coarse, for the anonymous bra that hung from Hawkeye’s left ear and thin cord trailing from Frank Burns' wrist, to a bucket, perched precariously on the shelf above his bunk.

The birds happy chirps were interrupted by a high pitched scream as Major Burns rolled over and the bucket, filled with water, landed with a splash over his head.

Hawkeye and Trapper woke to the sight of a very wet Frank, throwing a very large tantrum. Hawkeye’s sleepy chuckles and Trapper’s barking laugh filled the tent.

‘Haha… as much as I enjoy waking up to that sight, haha… ow, my head.’ Trapper slowly pushed himself away from Hawkeye’s warm side, and cracked his stiff neck.

‘My sentiments exactly.’ Hawkeye said, wincing as Frank made way to stand in front of them, stomping crankily, and pointed an accusing finger at the pair.

‘You… you… ninnies! I have it in my mind to see you both arrested for… disrespect to a superior officer!’

‘Superior. Ha.’ Hawkeye stifled more laughter at the sight of Frank’s red face, and dragged himself to sit on his bunk.

‘Frank, for one thing, how do you know it was us?’ Trapper asked.

Frank whirled around to face him, his wet hair sprayed droplets across the tent. Trapper wiped his face with a slight grimace, then dragged his fingers through his curls, which were suspiciously matted with something.

‘Frank, please. You look like you’re about to explode.’ Trapper said.

‘Trapper, don’t discourage him.’

‘You two are impossible! I’m going to the Colonel!’

‘Henry won’t appreciate the wake up call at… however early this is.’ Hawkeye glanced at his wrist, which lacked a watch.

‘Yeah, Henry needs his beauty sleep.’ Trapper added.

‘That’s very true.’ Hawkeye added, grinning at Trapper from behind Frank’s back.

‘You two don’t know anything. I’m leaving.’ Frank’s face had gotten less red, but his stomping was still in full force as he exited the Swamp, and slammed the door behind him.

Trapper looked away from the door, ‘so Hawk, I have two questions for you.’

‘I’ll answer truthfully where it’s not incriminating to do so.’

‘First question: did we do that to Frank?’

‘You know, I have absolutely no idea. I’d like to shake the hand of who ever did, or, in the unlikely event it was a nurse, kiss her thankyou thoroughly. We must have been severely drunk last night. Can you remember anything?’ Hawkeye rubbed his temples, feeling the beginning of a headache and hangover coming on.

‘I’ll be asking the questions here.’ Trapper put on a mock frown. Share a tent, share nurses, and now shared short term memory loss.

‘Oh yes, officer, and will you be handcuffing me?’

‘I didn’t know you were into that kind of thing.’

‘There’s a lot you don’t know about me.’

‘One, that’s not true. And two, that brings me to question two, why do you have woman’s underwear hanging from your left ear?’

Hawkeye cocked an eyebrow and felt for the bra, pulling it off his ear. He held it out in front of him.

‘Well, obviously, some kind nurse left me with a token of her affections.’

‘But Hawk, neither of us remember what we did last night, how would you know?’

‘I think it’s a fair assumption.’

‘Not with Klinger in the camp.’ Trapper heaved himself up, head feeling better all the while, and plunked down next to Hawkeye. Snatched the bra out of his hand to examine it closer.

‘Trapper, my bra please.’ Hawkeye held out a hand smiling widely in sleepy amusement, and the garment was placed in his open palm.

‘Klinger’s bra.’

‘But Trapper, neither of us remember what we did last night, how would you know?’ Hawkeye parroted his earlier words back at him, Trapper laughed.

‘You win.’

‘All I won was a hangover.’

‘I know what’ll cure that.’ Trapper rose, and stepped up to the still. He bowed elaborately and poured them both a drink.

‘That better be dryer than dry,’ Hawkeye said with an amused quirk of his eyebrow.

‘My dear, if it was any drier it’d evaporate,’ he sat next to Hawkeye and downed his drink in one gulp.

Hawkeye took a sip, and leaned against his friend’s shoulder, ‘what would I do without you?’

‘Get your own drinks.’

They both laughed, Hawkeye’s breath ghosting across Trappers neck. They fell silent, then quickly back to sleep, sunlight just beginning to stream weakly through into the tent.

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