[mijmeraar] Two Drabbles, BJ&Hawkeye, 13+
Dec. 1st, 2007 08:12 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
mijmeraar.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
mash_slashTitle: Thawing Out.
Characters: BJ and Hawkeye [and others]
Rating: 13+
Prompt: Snow.
It takes pride of place, centre-compound. Radar’s broken glasses, Mulcahy’s hat and Margaret’s scarf. Threads loose. Klinger gives Hawkeye a too-small brassiere and BJ gives it back again. [Prude.] [Pervert.] Clumps of coal for buttons and the carrot Bugsy wouldn’t eat, better a nose than a surgical mask, even if he’s downwind from the mess tent. [It’s witty.] [It’s macabre.] A stolen CO pipe, to round it off, and they stand back to assess, hands on their hips.
Their heads tilt left. Then right. Then Hawkeye ‘hmphs’. BJ sighs. [Something’s missing.] [Right.] Radar says stick some arms in. Mulcahy finds a broom. Margaret tries clusters, and fails. [‘Snowman’.] [Not ‘soldier’.] Klinger offers his Greta Garbo, risking great emotional trauma. Potter steals his pipe back. [Aha!] [You’re right.] Hawkeye grabs a handful of stones, gives half to BJ. They start on either cheek, curve down and meet in the middle. [The smiling, salient snowman of South Korea.] [Esquire.]
They pat the snow down. White, like gauze, packed in to hold together.
It helps heal them all, in different ways.
Title: To wash you clean.
Characters: BJ and Hawkeye [Potter, Frank]
Rating: 13+
Prompt: Rain.
AN: i'm not sure if this was meant to go some place, but i kind of like that it's stuck nowhere.
A storm brews. The sky breaks open.
Hawkeye, with two hands sloshing round in guts, blood, says “That’s where all this fighting comes from,” in that early morning, seen enough, need a drink voice.
“I thought it was rain,” BJ says, not to advocate, not to dishearten.
“It’s the same thing. We’re mostly water anyway. Just add a little cold; a long, hard fall.”
“Don’t forget the floods.”
“Right. Mass scale massacres. Wrecking homes, lives, families.”
“Colonel!” Frank protests. “I have enough to worry about with these two Long Face Larries depressing me.”
“I thought I was a Short Face Susan.” Hawkeye moves his head to give a profile.
“An Average Face Adam, at least.” BJ’s mask strains around a smirk.
“Okay, boys, cut it out. Happy Frank is bad enough. Wouldn’t wanna risk it.”
There’s a beat. A clunk. A dirty scalpel.
“Hey, Hawk?”
“I prefer grass.”
“The rain. It helps things grow.”
“Yeah.”
The last stitch. No more customers.
“You’re right. That can’t be it.”
Characters: BJ and Hawkeye [and others]
Rating: 13+
Prompt: Snow.
It takes pride of place, centre-compound. Radar’s broken glasses, Mulcahy’s hat and Margaret’s scarf. Threads loose. Klinger gives Hawkeye a too-small brassiere and BJ gives it back again. [Prude.] [Pervert.] Clumps of coal for buttons and the carrot Bugsy wouldn’t eat, better a nose than a surgical mask, even if he’s downwind from the mess tent. [It’s witty.] [It’s macabre.] A stolen CO pipe, to round it off, and they stand back to assess, hands on their hips.
Their heads tilt left. Then right. Then Hawkeye ‘hmphs’. BJ sighs. [Something’s missing.] [Right.] Radar says stick some arms in. Mulcahy finds a broom. Margaret tries clusters, and fails. [‘Snowman’.] [Not ‘soldier’.] Klinger offers his Greta Garbo, risking great emotional trauma. Potter steals his pipe back. [Aha!] [You’re right.] Hawkeye grabs a handful of stones, gives half to BJ. They start on either cheek, curve down and meet in the middle. [The smiling, salient snowman of South Korea.] [Esquire.]
They pat the snow down. White, like gauze, packed in to hold together.
It helps heal them all, in different ways.
Title: To wash you clean.
Characters: BJ and Hawkeye [Potter, Frank]
Rating: 13+
Prompt: Rain.
AN: i'm not sure if this was meant to go some place, but i kind of like that it's stuck nowhere.
A storm brews. The sky breaks open.
Hawkeye, with two hands sloshing round in guts, blood, says “That’s where all this fighting comes from,” in that early morning, seen enough, need a drink voice.
“I thought it was rain,” BJ says, not to advocate, not to dishearten.
“It’s the same thing. We’re mostly water anyway. Just add a little cold; a long, hard fall.”
“Don’t forget the floods.”
“Right. Mass scale massacres. Wrecking homes, lives, families.”
“Colonel!” Frank protests. “I have enough to worry about with these two Long Face Larries depressing me.”
“I thought I was a Short Face Susan.” Hawkeye moves his head to give a profile.
“An Average Face Adam, at least.” BJ’s mask strains around a smirk.
“Okay, boys, cut it out. Happy Frank is bad enough. Wouldn’t wanna risk it.”
There’s a beat. A clunk. A dirty scalpel.
“Hey, Hawk?”
“I prefer grass.”
“The rain. It helps things grow.”
“Yeah.”
The last stitch. No more customers.
“You’re right. That can’t be it.”
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}