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mash_slash2005-01-08 06:34 pm
twelvemile.livejournal.com) wrote in mash_slash2005-01-08 06:34 pm
Entry tags:
Finest Kind
Hi! I'm new here. I found this whole place from the wonderful ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
hawkeyesmartini and so far it's a blast! I love M*A*S*H
slash, and I've got only one M*A*S*H fic that I could post.
The only thing is, it was written based off the book and not the show.
Is that alright? I hope so, cause here it is. :) [If it's not okay I
can delete it right?] Anyway I hope it's acceptable and you guys like
it. I've read some of the most recent posts here and you guys are fab!!!
This story does not have a title.
“Y’all want some?” the Duke drawled, holding out a fifth of whiskey.
“Always,” Hawkeye responded, taking a swig. “Finest kind.” He stated then, and handed it back. He looked behind him to the counter at the Officer’s Club near the Kimpo airport to realize they are the only patrons left. They are going home, and he very well may never see the Duke again. He’s wanted to since tossing the bat up into the air when they met, but things were always wrong, as if they were ever really right in Korea. He felt a tap at his shoulder and the Duke handed him back the bottle.
“Where’d you get this?” Hawkeye asked.
“Trapper John’s farewell present or sumthin.” the Duke grinned and then laughed. “If he even knows it ain’t there.”
Hawkeye laughed heartily. His nerves are frayed at the anticipation of going home, though he prefers to appear nonchalant. He reached back for his cigarettes that were on the counter, but apparently were not still. Ah, a ruse. His arm fell to the back of the Duke’s chair and then went around his shoulders. He looked at the man from Georgia without looking at anything else, aware that the Duke is unaware of what he’s doing. He didn’t check the door.
One second, two. Three, four, six, seven. Then finally, Hawkeye leaned back in his chair the way he was and looked at the Duke evenly. They probably could have been a little drunker.
“What was that fer?” the Duke questioned, blinking.
Hawkeye shrugged. He took his arm back and felt around in his pocket for his Zippo to light a stray cigarette either he or Duke had left in the ashtray. He didn’t look up.
“Do I know what y’all just did?”
“Yep.”
There was another long silence. “Why?”
Hawkeye shrugged. He never liked to give anyone a reason for anything he did.
“Well, I ain’t mad.” the Duke said finally. He pulled the stopper from the bottle and tipped it up again. “’Ere. Yer the craziest sonofabitch I ever met, Hawk.” he grinned and held out the bottle.
“Finest kind.” Hawkeye agrees.
hawkeyesmartini and so far it's a blast! I love M*A*S*H
slash, and I've got only one M*A*S*H fic that I could post.
The only thing is, it was written based off the book and not the show.
Is that alright? I hope so, cause here it is. :) [If it's not okay I
can delete it right?] Anyway I hope it's acceptable and you guys like
it. I've read some of the most recent posts here and you guys are fab!!!This story does not have a title.
“Y’all want some?” the Duke drawled, holding out a fifth of whiskey.
“Always,” Hawkeye responded, taking a swig. “Finest kind.” He stated then, and handed it back. He looked behind him to the counter at the Officer’s Club near the Kimpo airport to realize they are the only patrons left. They are going home, and he very well may never see the Duke again. He’s wanted to since tossing the bat up into the air when they met, but things were always wrong, as if they were ever really right in Korea. He felt a tap at his shoulder and the Duke handed him back the bottle.
“Where’d you get this?” Hawkeye asked.
“Trapper John’s farewell present or sumthin.” the Duke grinned and then laughed. “If he even knows it ain’t there.”
Hawkeye laughed heartily. His nerves are frayed at the anticipation of going home, though he prefers to appear nonchalant. He reached back for his cigarettes that were on the counter, but apparently were not still. Ah, a ruse. His arm fell to the back of the Duke’s chair and then went around his shoulders. He looked at the man from Georgia without looking at anything else, aware that the Duke is unaware of what he’s doing. He didn’t check the door.
One second, two. Three, four, six, seven. Then finally, Hawkeye leaned back in his chair the way he was and looked at the Duke evenly. They probably could have been a little drunker.
“What was that fer?” the Duke questioned, blinking.
Hawkeye shrugged. He took his arm back and felt around in his pocket for his Zippo to light a stray cigarette either he or Duke had left in the ashtray. He didn’t look up.
“Do I know what y’all just did?”
“Yep.”
There was another long silence. “Why?”
Hawkeye shrugged. He never liked to give anyone a reason for anything he did.
“Well, I ain’t mad.” the Duke said finally. He pulled the stopper from the bottle and tipped it up again. “’Ere. Yer the craziest sonofabitch I ever met, Hawk.” he grinned and held out the bottle.
“Finest kind.” Hawkeye agrees.