Fics and sticks

[hawkeyesmartini.livejournal.com]

Hello.

I've brought a few slash fics I've written recently, to do some shameless self-promotion. It's a dirty job, but someone has to do it. And that someone must be me, otherwise it would not be self-promotion. But anyway.

Here I have three short stories that I will share. There are many more at slashhappened, my writing journal. It is friendsonly, but anyone with half a brain that requests to be added will be welcome. So, here you are, three bits of M*A*S*H slash. More at slashhappened, and enjoy.

Title : Just Asking
Author: hawkeyesmartini
Rating: PG
Fandom: M*A*S*H
Pairing & Genre: General
Feedback: Please
Archive: LiveJournal
Email: hawkeyesmartini@livejournal.com

Warnings: Slight language
Summary: Colonel Potter has something to ask Hawkeye and BJ.
Disclaimers: Never happened. Though it could’ve.

Notes: Thanks to sarcasticsra for the once-over.

<:3D~

The polite and kind request to get their rears (along with the rest of them) into Colonel Potter’s office came shortly after dinnertime. Hawkeye and BJ had been crowded onto Hawkeye’s cot, playing the gin guzzling game and taking turns complaining about how cold it was. They were wrapped in blankets and would’ve thrown something at Radar when he came in, but it was much easier to lean towards each other and holler at him to close the damn door.

“Sorry!” Radar said, putting one hand ontop of his head to hold his hat down and the other reaching for the door that the wind seemed to be falling in love with. “Colonel Potter wants to see you sirs,” he said then, nearly out of breath.

“Awwww, Radar,” BJ whined, shivering.

“Why don’t we play dead?” Hawkeye suggested, then leaned over to rest his forehead on BJ’s shoulder. “Clunk – dead. As in, doornail. As in, not leaving this cot.”

“That was relatively painless.” BJ commented.

“Always is, from what I hear.”

“C’mon guys.” Radar sighed, going over to BJ’s bunk for his boots and dropping them infront of where he sat. “Cap’n Hunnicutt?” he questioned.

“I’ve decided I’m dead, too.” BJ yawned and leaned over so that his head rested ontop of Hawkeye’s. “Dead and warm.”

No wonder the Colonel’s gotta see these guys, Radar thought. He began, “But – “

“Get lost!” Hawkeye demanded. “Out!”

“Colonel Potter says he’s gotta see you officers right now!” Radar argued.

“If he needs an officer tell ‘im to look in the mirror.” BJ raised his head to say, then pulled the outermost blanket on him over his shoulders again.

Radar favoured them with the closest to a glare he had ever gotten. “C’mon!” he said. “I’m cold too!”

“AAARGH.” Hawkeye vocalized, sitting up and throwing all but one of his blankets off. BJ groaned at the loss of their combined body heat and stuck his feet into his boots reluctantly. After making sure that they were indeed getting up, Radar left the Swamp in one big shiver.

Hawkeye and BJ trudged to Potter’s office, still wrapped in blankets and grumbling. They burst through the double doors and zeroed in on the small stove in the corner, not even looking at the colonel who had folded his hands on the desk and was observing them quietly. Instead of shoving each other over they huddled closer to it – so close, infact, that it looked as if they were literally attached at the hip. Potter shook his head.

“Evenin’, boys.” he said steadily.

“What’s that? I can’t hear you through the cold.” Hawkeye responded, not looking back.

“Snort?” At the sound of glass against glass and liquid pouring, the two captains turned around and practically pounced. Potter smiled, then his face became grave again. “Have a seat, stay awhile.” he pointed to the two chairs opposite him.

“As long as you keep ‘em comin’.” Hawkeye said, sitting down and displaying his empty glass infront of him.

“Nothin’ like a shot of whiskey on a cold day.” Potter said, and freshened both of their drinks. He folded his hands on the desk infront of him again and surveyed them while they sipped, coughed and rubbed their hands together, and sipped again.

“Don’t tell me – lemme guess.” Hawkeye cocked an eyebrow at the elder man. “You got us all the way over here to finish this off because you want us to get drunk and whitewash Frank’s behind and then paint a smiley face?”

“Wouldn’t it be frowny face if it were on Frank’s behind?” BJ asked.

Potter shook his head. “If you did that we wouldn’t be able to tell one end of ‘im from the other.”

Hawkeye nodded. “Well, there is that.”

“Actually lads, I brought you in here so that we could have a man-to-man talk.” The colonel cracked his knuckles.

Both of the captain’s eyes watched. “Uh oh, Andy.” BJ sighed.

“Nobody saw me do it – they can’t prove a thing!” Hawkeye protested.

“Pull up your reins, son.” Potter lifted a hand to signify to them to cool off. “This is just between you, me, and the fence post, now.”

Hawkeye raised an eyebrow again while BJ frowned. “Okay,” he said, looking at Hawkeye, who shrugged. “What’s this about, Colonel?”

He looked hesitant. “I’m just gonna spit it out. I have to ask you boys something, and, well, it would be better, I think, if you told the truth. I’m not saying that you have to...I’m not sure if I would, so I won’t blame you if you don’t.”

Hawkeye and BJ exchanged a look. “Well, what is it?” BJ said, trying to grin but looking more confused than anything. Hawkeye had folded his arms and was squinting at Potter as if he was waiting.

Potter took a deep breath and stared at his hands that were ontop of the desk. “Are you two boys together?” he asked softly.

There was dead silence.

“Uh...” BJ said. “We’re...together right now?” he looked like he thought Potter had lost his mind. Hawkeye looked puzzled a second, and then began to look very, very amused. It was a wonder he didn’t start laughing, actually. Potter looked up at BJ and blinked, as if he was also confused. Then he realised that BJ wasn’t answering what he was asking.

“No, BJ.” He shook his head. “I mean...together.”

BJ looked at him blankly.

“Romantically.” Potter said, deadpan. BJ blinked, and looked at Hawkeye. Hawkeye looked at BJ.

Then BJ looked like this. No, that’s not good enough...here we go. Hawkeye immediately lost it, laughing loud and long. “You – you can’t be serious!” he managed. BJ still looked like he had been shot.

“Oh...God, no!” he said finally. “That’s...oh, God! No!”

“All right, all right.” Potter put both of his hands out, a little taken aback by BJ’s reaction, but not at all surprised at Hawkeye’s.

“I’m married for crying out loud!” BJ said. “And...him?!?”

“Colonel, that’s – that’s ridiculous,” Hawkeye said, in between laughing. BJ blinked again and looked at Hawkeye, and Hawkeye looked back at BJ, and smirked. “Wanna share my bed, Beej?”

BJ visibly flinched, and Hawkeye started laughing again. Potter sighed, and nudged the whiskey bottle towards BJ. “I’m sorry, son.” he said. “I didn’t know. I just thought...because you two...ah, never mind. I was just asking.” He gave the bottle one final nudge and BJ reached for it to pour himself a drink, gulp it, then pour another. Hawkeye was still giggling, and when he’d look over at BJ he’d burst out laughing all over again.

“I can’t believe that you’d honestly think – “ BJ began, then gulped down another shot.

“C’mon Beej,” Hawkeye stood up. “Let’s just go back, toss Frank on the fire, and get some sleep.”

“Right.” BJ frowned, standing up slowly. He walked out of the office heavily, not seeming to be cold any longer. Hawkeye stood up and wrapped the blanket around his shoulders again and headed toward the door. BJ was already out of Radar’s office and plodding along back to the Swamp, still looking stricken. Hawkeye snorted again but right before he reached the doors he turned around and smiled feebly at the colonel.

“Thanks,” he said. “Now that I know where he stands...I think I may just keep my mouth shut.”

Potter nodded solemnly. “Good boy.” he said. “Goodnight, son.”

Hawkeye nodded and exited the office. Potter toasted the last shot of the whiskey to hoping the young man could hold onto his tongue and his friend.







<:3D~


Title : Rain Falls In Grey (Far Away)
Author: hawkeyesmartini
Rating: PG13
Fandom: M*A*S*H
Pairing & Genre: V. slight B-eye/general, I think
Feedback: Please
Archive: LiveJournal
Email: hawkeyesmartini@livejournal.com

Warnings: None, really. Slight slash.
Summary: Hawkeye thinks of his mother before dawn and is comforted by BJ.

Disclaimers: M*A*S*H not mine. It should’ve been entrusted to me for when I was born, but they couldn’t wait 13 years. *shrug*
Notes: For takenhawkeye
Much more thanks to sarcasticsra for the once-over, twice.


In the dead quiet of early morning, there is one thing Hawkeye Pierce, now awake, finds his mind wandering to. He normally isn’t awake, unless jerked from sleep by a voice over the PA system, or if trying to go back to sleep after his shift, but those times don’t count, not really. When he wakes on his own and can’t close his eyes in that silent hour before the sun rises, he sometimes thinks he can smell lavender. If he closes his eyes and sleep doesn’t come, a veiled image of a face he can’t really remember smiles, and a soft voice that he hears only in his head tells him stories.

Fairy tales were never his mother’s strong point, though she told tales more than she spoke about anything else. And he would sit at her feet, or in her lap, or leaned over with her arm around him while she sent him off to dreamland, concentrating on the sound of her voice and the rhythm she spoke in. She told him fascinating things, things that blurred together and departed from his memory when she told no more. She had small hands that were bony and always cold. He was only ten when his father told him. He had been certain she’d come back – why not?

His father had told him that his mother had been an angel on earth, and was now in heaven with the rest of them and would ask God to look after her boys. Hawkeye remembered frowning, and when asked why he inquired if his father really believed that. Daniel Pierce had sighed and was silent for a long time. The grief over the death of his wife had caused him to forget, for just a second, that he wasn’t just telling stories to any other child. He’d finally told Hawkeye that he believed it because his wife and the boy’s mother deserved no less than heaven, therefore that’s what she would have.

“Do you think I’ll go to heaven, Dad?” Hawkeye had asked then, looking up with eyes that were less innocent than they were troubled and understanding. He’d shrugged and looked away. “I don’t think I’d like it there, anyway.”

“Why on earth not?” Daniel almost cried out, feeling himself ache for his son. “I don’t think you deserve any less either. You would like it. Heaven is perfect, Ben.”

Hawkeye grinned. “But I’m not.”

Neither was his mother. And he loved her anyway.

<:3D~

At just before six o’clock in the morning, BJ comes back from his shift in the Post-Op ward, striding cheerfully through the compound. He has always enjoyed the solitude and silence of early mornings, other than the birds communicating with one another. Dawn in San Francisco out of the bedroom window revealed sparkling waters and bright, blue skies. The mist would dry up and disappear, and the view was clear, as was the air. Even being in Korea, where there was no ocean (and rarely blue skies) to view, BJ likes the moment the sun takes to herself before she climbs high. He takes a deep breath and smiles before heading for the Swamp.

Inside the Swamp is a sight he is unused to – Hawkeye is awake, though his eyes seem to be looking at something only he can see. He’s laying on his bunk on his side and doesn’t respond when BJ asks if he’s waiting for Reveille.

“Hawk?”

“Hmm?” Hawkeye’s eyes finally clear and he looks over. “Do what?”

BJ frowns a little, then grins. “Where were you?”

“Where? Hmm...home, about twenty years ago.” The other man sighs as he sits up and rests his head in his hands. “I was...I was thinking about my, ah, mother.”

“Oh? How’s she doing?”

Hawkeye blinks and slowly looks up at his new bunkmate. Trapper knew. He wouldn’t have to say it if Trapper was here. “She’s...” he takes a deep breath, but that doesn’t help. He looks away and tries to clear his throat. “She’s dead, BJ.”

BJ blinks and then takes a breath. He hadn’t been expecting that. “Oh. Oh, Christ Hawkeye, I’m sorry. I didn’t – “

Hawkeye holds a hand up. “It’s all right, I know you didn’t. You just got here.”

“A month isn’t ‘just got here’, not here.” BJ reminds him and then slowly takes a step toward the still and Hawkeye’s cot. “Are you all right?”

“I will be when the sun rises. Reverse vampire, you know.”

The other man makes a small “mmm hmm” sound, then goes to the gin machine and carefully fixes the coming day’s batch. “Want breakfast?” he held up an empty glass.

Hawkeye shakes his head and BJ knows it’s really bothering him. “No thanks, not while I’m awake.”

“Hawkeye?”

“It isn’t even raining.” He murmurs as he looks outside. The grey mist is clearing and the birds are getting louder. He laughs, forcedly, and pretends to scratch his nose.

“Here.” BJ says softly, going to sit next to him and hand him a glass. “Just what the doctor ordered.”

He finally accepts the drink, but sets it on a crate nearby after sipping it. “This is just what you don’t need, right, one roommate who can’t tell his brass from the grass and one who sits up conjuring memories of mothers.”

BJ smiles and gently slides his arm around Hawkeye’s shoulders. “Do you want to tell me about her?” he offers.

Hawkeye shakes his head. “No.”

“Well, I’m here if you do. You’ve got my card, and my ears are always open.”

“Oh, will you two get a room?” A disgusted voice from across the tent breaks in.

“We’re in a room.” BJ responds, rolling his eyes.

“It just so happens that you’re in it as well.” Hawkeye adds. “Go back to the undead, Frank.”

“You have some odd Dracula thing this morning,” BJ laughs. Hawkeye looks over at him, surprised.

“At least it’s a change to see you up in time for formation,” Frank scoffs as he gets up and begins dressing. He eyes the two captains and squints at them. “You two sit any closer and I’ll have to report you to the Colonel.” he glares. Hawkeye rolls his eyes and lays back down – he’s heard that threat before, of course.

BJ however, hasn’t, and he nearly chokes. “What? Frank, you’re supposed to stop the cotton tip before you feel resistance.”

“Humph.” Frank snorts, giving the two a last disapproving look before exiting the Swamp. He only goes about five yards before stopping and looking curiously at his boots. He then glares back at the Swamp and hops on the other foot to Margaret’s tent. BJ looks at Hawkeye questioningly.

“Oatmeal.” Hawkeye sighs.

“Ah.” BJ fidgets. “Are you okay, though? You look like you’re not.”

“Yeah, fine.” he turns over and grins half-heartedly, then goes solemn again as he sits up. “I just think of her sometimes when I can’t sleep. She died when I was ten. She used to tell me stories.”

“Yeah?”

Hawkeye nods gravely. “But I don’t remember them now. At least...not when I’m trying to.”

“Hmm.” BJ says. He observes the other man for a long moment while Hawkeye stares at his hands, then he gently sets his hand on the back of Hawkeye’s neck. When Hawkeye looks up, BJ kisses him softly on the lips. He pulls back quickly and Hawkeye grins, almost blushing, dropping his eyes.

“Don’t do that,” he says, but his tone implies he actually means the opposite. He looks back up and meets BJ’s eyes and smiles again. “Thanks.”

BJ smiles and then a bird calls outside loudly. He looks up and nods to the sunshine falling on the compound. “Hey, the mist is gone – everything’s clear now.”

“Yeah.” Hawkeye agrees, grinning, but he’s not looking outside.







<:3D~


"Kicks"
Word Count: 638
written for katiemariie
Prompt: Trapper turned on his heel, "I am not Hawkeye's sidekick!"
Thanks to sharselune


<:3D~

It was a quiet day in the woods of Lothlorien, where Galadriel and Haldir the elves were frolicking playfully in a vat of mashed potatoes.

I mean...

Trapper and Frank exited the Swamp just as it was getting dusk one night, arguing, as usual. Only, there was something wrong this time – it seemed Trapper was the one leaving and Frank was chasing him out, getting the upper hand. GASP. Let’s listen in, shall we?


“Fuck off.” Trapper glared. “You’re cheap, and I think your mother’s calling.” he started to walk away, in the direction of the Mess Tent.

“All you are is Pierce’s sidekick!” Frank sneered.

Trapper turned on his heel. “I am not Hawkeye’s sidekick!” he shouted.

Frank grinned, delighted he was finally getting to the smug bastard. “Yes, you are,” he sang lightly, as if he was glad. “And that’s all you’ll ever be. Hawkeye gets the girls, Hawkeye gets the credit in surgery, Hawkeye even decides what you’re going to do when you’re not on duty. Why are you going to Mess, McIntyre? Is Hawkeye there? Did he tell you to meet him there? I’m sensing a pattern, McIntyre, one that you’d better break before it’s broken you.”

Trapper seethed, narrowing his eyes and clenching his fists. Frank himself had never felt so...high...and he raised one hand toward McIntyre and wiggled his fingers – exactly as he’d seen Pierce do so many times, before he turned and went back into the Swamp and smiled with the memory of Trapper’s shocked and angry, even wounded looking, face. He removed his boots, set them neatly under his cot, and reached for his pad and pencil – his mother would be so proud of him. He was destined to lead, and to put cocky delinquents in their place.

Suddenly the door of the Swamp burst open, so that it almost decided to take flying lessons. Frank threw his arms over his head and dropped his pencil, squeezing his eyes closed. But then he felt hands on his arms, strong hands that were pulling them away from his head. “I ain’t no fucking sidekick,” he heard a voice hiss. “If I gotta prove that to you, fine.”

Before he could open his eyes, Frank Burns felt a scratchy, unshaven cheek brush against his own, and then there were lips on his. He jerked, and tried to gasp, but Trapper used that opportunity to shove his tongue between Frank’s lips and taste his mouth. Frank squirmed for exactly one second, but his entire body went rigid when Trapper yanked the other man’s shirt out from being tucked in and slipped his hand up underneath. In the dark, Frank felt a large hand go up his side and then down his back while the (surprisingly soft) tongue in his mouth forced him to keep it open.

And then, just as soon as it happened, it was over. There was no hand on him, there was no mouth on him. Frank let out a slow, shuddering breath and looked up, visibly cringing, at Trapper, who stood infront of the cot with a cold but satisfied smile on his face. Frank’s jaw dropped, and his next breath burst out of him as if he was almost crying.

“I’m going to tell Colonel Blake!” he shrieked.

“Hmm.” Trapper titled his head to one side, and pointed to the obvious tent in Frank’s trousers. “Gonna tell ‘im about that, too?”

Frank looked down and gasped. Then, fumbling, he grabbed for his pillow to cover himself up. Trapper laughed, knowing that Hawkeye or Hawkeye&Trapper was the last thing the Major was thinking of. “Seeya, Frank.” he said. He lifted a hand and wiggled his fingers in adieu before casually sauntering out of the Swamp and toward the Mess Tent, where he slid onto a bench next to Hawkeye.







And there you have it. Once again, slashhappened is my writing journal and the place where I update with any sort of M*A*S*H fanfiction I come up with. That being said, *insert closing remark*

<:3D~