mash_slash | Erm four slashy fics for you.

Only the second time I posted here so I hope I follow the right procedure. Feel free to yell at me if I didn't as some of the stories are relatively long...
Okay couple of fics for you, all written as challenges/requests so the *ahem* odd (read EW to some people) pairings where not my creating, or at least that’s my story and I’m sticking with it officer.

So first one was written for twilight_mash

“A kiss is a terrible thing to waste.”

One moment, one kiss can change everything. Sometimes good things can happen, sometimes bad and sometimes plain old scary and confusing things can happen. It all depends on the people and circumstances involved. Unfortunately for Loraine Anderson , she had seemingly gone and kissed the wrong person, at the wrong time in really crappy circumstances. She had just gone and kissed one of closest friends. Whom was a major. A female major. Fortunately they had been alone at the time, in a hotel room. But as, Lorraine silently berated herself, even if Margaret Houlihan had wanted the kiss to happen, the army and society at large just wouldn’t except them.
If the truth be known Loraine had wanted to kiss Margaret since the day they had met as army brats many years ago. And so she finally done the deed and at her friends shocked face afterwards had ran out. Out of the room, out of the hotel and away from the touristy bits that Tokyo had to offer. Her feet had led her to a secret little stream not many people would know about. It was bitterly cold and Lorraine was soaked to the skin courtesy of an earlier rain storm but Lorraine at that moment in time just didn’t care. She was to wrapped up in her current state of self pity and misery to notice the weather. However if she had noticed the weather she also would have notice Margaret approaching. However she didn’t and that was exactly what Margaret wanted. Margaret had with her Lorraine coat which she wrapped around Lorraine’s hunched up form. Noticing how miserable Lorraine looked Margaret sat down next to her. She gently wrapped her arms around her and pulled her close.
Loraine took a while to pull herself out of her thoughts but when she did she finally realised how cold she was. She also noticed a heat source really close to her and she subconsciously sought out the warmth Margaret had to offer. It was as if something inside of Loraine broke then and the tears that had been threatening to fall down her face all night finally did. Margaret patiently rode out Lorraine’s inner storm. It took a lot for Lorraine to get so worked out but Margaret knew from experience that the only way to get any sense from Lorraine when she was in this mood was to say nothing and let her cry. Eventually Loraine pulled away and boy she looked a sight. It could have been described as adorable if her mascara hadn’t run and her hair hadn’t gone frizzy. Margaret dug out a tissue from her pocket and handed it to Loraine. It was more than Lorraine could stand as her feet suddenly became really interesting to her.
“You going to report me?” Loraine mumbled, her voice really shaky.
If Margaret had been really honest with herself the thought had briefly entered her mind. However as Loraine pointed out to her the khaki has to come off at night. Margaret cared deeply for Lorraine and did not want to see her hurt. Besides she was a really good nurse and something like this would ruin her career. At best a blue discharge, at worse a stretch in Leavenworth could await her. And Margaret’s body was telling her something else. She had enjoyed the kiss a little bit more than she should have. It had brought some very deeply buried feelings up to the surface. She had always somehow suspected Loraine had wanted to be more than friends long before that night, and if her suspicions where right Margaret would have no objections. She saw Lorraine anxiously looking at her.
“Report what?” Margaret answered with a sly smile.
Loraine was about to say something but Margaret quickly hushed her. Casting a quick look around to check for , well anyone really. Seeing nobody there she gently placed her hands either side of Lorraine’s face. Her hands felt warm against Lorraine’s skin as she lent in and gently kissed Loraine. It was brief but Margaret hoped that it would chase away any lingering doubts and anxieties Loraine may have had. Loraine’s smile confirmed that it most certainly did. They where just about to go at it again when Margaret came to her senses. After all somebody might catch then and that would be disastrous.
“Come on, its cold out here and I don’t want you getting sick.” Margaret said helping Loraine to her feet.
“Mightn’t be such a bad thing, I have a thing for blonde nurses.” Loraine joked.
“Oh really! Well the hotel has a hot bath and silk sheets” Margaret purred. “And my nurses uniform!” She whispered in Loraine’s ear.
“A hot bath does sound nice. What are we waiting for?”
And thus the two walked back to the hotel, arms around each other and secretive grins on their faces.
Lets just say, in this case, a kiss was a very good thing after all.

Next one was also written for Twilight_mash and also at the request of sneakyangel

It was at a medical conference after the war, that
Frank Burns found out three disturbing things.

The first one was that Margaret - his Margaret, the
one that got away, the one that broke his heart into a
million pieces, was now married to his arch rival. The
man who took great joy in making his life hell,
Hawkeye Pierce - bachelor at large, Mr take them and
leave them, was now married to his Margaret. Both
being - for different reasons, the cause of Frank’s
nervous breakdown. And due to the nature of the
conference, both of them were going to be there.

The second thing that disturbed him was that Trapper
John Mc Intyre would also be at said conference. The
disturbing part was that he was the reason for Frank’s
divorce. Ironic that Louise had accepted Margaret,
whom he had held something for, for many years, but
when it came to a meaningless fling with Trapper, then
she had served him with divorce papers. Of course that
was after she had read him the riot act and threw the
frying pan at him.

If that wasn’t enough, then came reason number three
that made him want to hide in his hotel room forever:
Charles Emerson Winchester - the Third to be precise.
He was the man giving the lecture. At first, going to
the lecture had seemed such a good idea. It had given
him a legitimate reason to get out of Fort Wayne and
away from a whole load of bad memories.

As Frank digested the third bit of information he was
forced to remember a time he would rather forget. It
had been during R & R in Tokyo that Frank first
encountered Charles. At the time he had not realised
who he was, a fellow Major, doctor and Frank just
wanted some company. And the distinguished fellow in
the bar also sat alone. The man clearly had money
judging by the way he was dressed, and the sipping on
expensive cognac. However as he edged closer, his
already fragile mind slipped further towards the side
of insanity. Margaret’s (first) marriage had really
affected him and Frank now had to admit that he was
not himself.

Really not, or at least not the carefully created
persona that Frank himself had created for the world
to see. As much as Hawkeye and Trapper appeared to
despise his by-the-book ways, he had quickly realised
something upon meeting them. They needed someone to
rebel against, someone to rage against, someone to
help them keep their sanity, and they needed Frank to
be that person. Henry couldn’t be that person so it
was up to Frank.

In reality, Frank was unpopular at home because of a
previous mistake. He and his best (and only) friend
had drunk one too many beers one night and curiosity
had gotten the better of him. Only to be caught right
in the middle of the most intimate of acts by his
mate’s brother.

However seeing the distinguished, tall and rich
gentleman in front of him had reawakened old feelings
from deep inside him, (and not so deep inside him if
you get the writer’s drift). Whilst he loved Margaret,
the urge to visit the alternative pleasure *ahem*
alternative pure pleasures of the flesh, was strong.
As Frank limped over to the bar, thanks to an
unfortunate incident with General Kester’s wife, he
tried to work out why the gentleman in front of him
seemed so familiar.

And then he realised who he was. This person was
Charles Emerson Winchester (the third), son of Charles
Winchester (the second), one of the richest and most
distinguished men in Boston, nay, the whole eastern
seaboard. After several beers, cognacs, and whatever
they could think of, it was discovered that Frank and
Charles had a previous lover in Common. Another Mr
take them and leave them: the one and only Trapper
John Mc Intyre.

Frank could not bear to bring himself to think about
what happened next. Somehow they had ended up in
Frank’s hotel room. Somehow they had ended up waking
with blinding hangovers and a lack of clothes. And
somehow, Frank had, just for a few moments felt
wanted, safe, loved. Yet as usual, after one of these
illicit encounters, it didn’t last. Charles had vowed
never to drink again, before getting dressed and
leaving Frank totally alone - as usual.

That may have been the final straw for Frank’s fragile
state of mind to deal with. Later that day the MP’s
had finally caught up with him. He never saw Margaret,
the 4077th or Charles again. Until today.

Somehow he had managed to avoid his fellow 4077th
inmates that day, eating lunch alone in a cafeteria
away from the conference. During the actual
conference, he had shuffled in discreetly, sitting at
the back of the room. He fled back to the hotel room
as soon as possible, and was now wondering if he could
come up with a plausible reason to give his boss why
he left early.

Groaning in despair after realising that there was no
in-personal reason he could give, he pulled out a
bottle of cheep booze from his luggage. It was after
the bottle was empty that the self-pity really kicked
in and the tears he had held back for years began to
flow.

He did not hear the door open, or the soft thud of
footsteps crossing the room. He did notice someone
taking the glass out of his hand and then hesitantly
draping an arm around him. Frank did not care who it
was as he sobbed. The systematic hand soothingly
stroking his back helped calm Frank down and when he
was done the as yet-to-be-identified person removed
Frank’s slippers and helped him get under the covers.

“I heard what happened. I also noticed you avoiding
us, can’t say I blame you. You okay?”
Frank shook his head no. And for the first time in his
life, Frank truly talked. And for the first time
Hawkeye Pierce began to understand the real Frank
Burns. By the time Hawkeye left, for the first time
ever, Frank did not feel used and alone.
“Thank you Pierce.”
“No, thank you Frank.”

Frank still had plenty of wounds, but that small
exchange was the first step in helping him to heal.

And by now I am sincerely sorry for any distress caused so far. To make up for it , (because I can't afford the doctor of your choices to make it all better as much as I would love to....)

Some more tradition Hawkeye/ Henry. Yes It was for hawkeyesmartini

“After all, that's what their whole "relationship" if you could call it that, was -- saying things that weren't true.”
The words in Hawkeye’s father’s latest letter from home impacted Hawkeye more than they should have. His father was referring to Hawkeye’s next door neighbours back in Crabapple Cove. However the same could be said about a former relationship in camp. A relationship that had definitely interested Hawkeye a lot more than the Hallets back home. Mainly because Hawkeye was involved in the relationship, if it could be described as that. After all Hawkeye was not the relationship type, and he was closing ranks, as it were, with a married man. That just so happened to be his Commanding Officer.
Hawkeye sighed as he took another sip of homemade rat poison. Saying things that weren’t true, he reflected, was a common problem when it came to relationships. Things such as ‘I love you’. The Hallets used that phrase a lot, before they decided to call it a day. Henry had mumbled it too, in the throws of ahem carnal pleasures. Hawkeye knew it was not true, but for one moment he had almost believed it. Now, he mournfully reflected, he would never know. Because his CO, his friend, his lover, was gone, having survived his assigning at the 4077th without too many mishaps. He should have been safe, he should have been home free getting to know his baby boy and snuggling up to Lorraine with the perfect curves. And now Hawkeye realised with drunken, truthful, clarity, that maybe, just maybe ,he could have loved Henry Blake in the real sense of the word. But his own relationship that was full of half-truths and broken promises, just like the Hallets, was over. And now as Hawkeye downed his third glass of gin in as many minutes he finally let the alcoholic tears slide.

And finally, (Thank God, they cheer as they get the flags out) written for

sarcasticsra

It was just another night at the MASH 4077TH. Naturally, this had involved being rudely awakened from much needed sleep to patch up the wounds of regular army clowns and reluctant draftees. In fact, this session in the OR had lasted two days and three nights, however, compared to recent sessions this could be wearily referred to as short. As Hawkeye led BJ back to the Swamp he noticed that BJ was quiet. Not the exhausted quiet you may expect from a man who has had very little sleep, but a disturbing sort of quiet. It was enough to make Hawkeye query if his friend was all right. As it turns out, BJ was all right. At Hawkeye’s concern , BJ gently laid his equally exhausted friend and bunkmate on Hawkeye’s own bunk.
“Uh Beej, what?” Hawkeye asked, before BJ silenced him with a “hush."
“Forgetting, need to forget, need you.” BJ responded, before gently pressing his lips against Hawkeye’s. Hawkeye responded, seeking his chance to let out some of his own pent-up emotions and frustrations. Lips pressed against lips, arms found waist’s , hands found zippers before limbs entwined and other body parts found similar body parts. Lucky that Frank was on Post Op duty that night as the two surgeons found comfort and rest with each other.
The next morning, BJ awoke to find Hawkeye thoughtfully gazing down on him.
“So did you forget?” Hawkeye asked as he sleepily pushed his bangs away from his face.
BJ considered his next words carefully. “Well it was different, but it definitely helped." He responded.
“Different hum?” Hawkeye considered. “Yeah, I can live with that.”
And naturally, before anything else could be said, the cheerless screech of the PA system was heard from the camp. Yes you guessed it, more wounded.
Some feedback would be appreciated, however flames are accepted, I use them to make toast.