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mash_slash2005-01-08 11:20 pm
hawkeyesmartini.livejournal.com) wrote in mash_slash2005-01-08 11:20 pm
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Title : There’s Nothing Like A...//Part 5 – Dream Sequence
Author: Hawkeye’s Martini <:3D~
Rating: PG13, perhaps R later on
Fandom: M*A*S*H
Pairing & Genre: Bit o' Hawpper, romance/comedy
Feedback: Will make me v. happy
Archive: LiveJournal, FF.N
Email: hawkeyes1stmartini@yahoo.com
Warnings: Language, slash
Summary: The nurses are gone and the guys are desperate. Two guys in particular. For different reasons.
Disclaimers: M*A*S*H not mine. Hawkeye, Trapper, Margaret etc not mine. Boy, what I would do with them...
A/N : If you don’t remember, it was stated in Chapter Three that Margaret did not go with the nurses to the Evac, she stayed behind after throwing a tantrum. Also, Margaret is quite out of character, but I really can’t write her. I mean...really. So, bad!Margaret and atthe4077th!Margaret. Apologies to those who are seeing this more than once. Takes place during "There’s Nothing Like A Nurse". Many thanks to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
takenhawkeye. Also, the alternate title for this chapter is "There's Nothing Like A Frozen American Flag". Just thought you might like to know that.
<:3D~
Hawkeye was waiting patiently outside the door to be let in. He figured she was here; hopefully she didn’t have any, ahem, company. The Swamp had been dark when he passed by, so Frank was either sleeping or...out. Tonight Hawkeye was lucky though, the door cracked open and a sleepy green eye peered out. He grinned and the eye showed recognition before the door opened all the way.
“Good evening,” he said in a Transylvanian accent. “I’ve come to suck your – “
“Suck this,” Margaret elbowed him in the stomach.
“Oof! Thanks.” He said sarcastically and closed the door behind him. “No Ferret Face?”
She shook her head and yawned, sitting down in her bed. “Not tonight.” she looked up sleepily. “What time is it?”
“Little after one.” Hawkeye leaned against her chair and desk. “Were you sleeping? I’m sorry.”
“Oh, I was sleeping, but I’ve gotten by before. What is it?”
He nodded towards the door, where shelling could be heard from off in the distance. “Sorry you didn’t go, or glad you stayed?”
She shrugged. “The girls and the patients are safe, and that’s all I’m concerned with. There was no need for me to go.”
Hawkeye nodded again, slowly. “I just had the most interesting conversation,” he blurted out, then. “and there’s no one else to tell.”
“Who were you talking to?”
“Trapper.”
“Oh? What happened?” Despite their daytime quarrels, the two often found themselves either in her tent or the Swamp after hours, confiding things in each other that could not be trusted with anyone else. She knew Hawkeye would keep quiet about the things she told, and he would come to talk to her about things Trapper didn’t care to hear. Or, in this case, when Trapper himself was the subject.
“Evidently,” Hawkeye began, and she looked up expectantly. “I have a date with Trapper tomorrow.”
Pause. “A what?”
“A date. The movie. With Trapper.”
“But he’s straight!”
“That’s what I said, but does he listen to me? Nooooo. First he’s weird and wants to dance with me, if you believe that.”
She nodded. “Frank mentioned he overheard something about it.”
“I knew he’d tell everyone.” Hawkeye rolled his eyes, then went on. “He just stops all the sudden, says he has to ‘go’, and leaves me standing in the settling dust. Then he avoids me all day today. And now he asks me on a date.”
Margaret frowned. “Just like that, a date?”
“Well, he kicked around the bush for a little bit, said he didn’t mean to make me mad with leaving before...never told me why, just something about it being utterly imperative he leave and I wouldn’t understand. Then I’m sitting there thinking everything was okay, or at least would be, and he goes ‘you wanna go with me to the movie tomorrow?’ I think he’s pullin’ somethin.” Hawkeye clasped his hands and looked up at Margaret. “I dunno what, and I certainly don’t know why. Maybe he’s that worried about the girls that he wants distracted, or he just wants to cheat on his wife with someone, doesn’t matter who anymore. He dodges all my questions. I don’t know if this is about me or not.”
“Well, it doesn’t really sound like he knows how you feel about this.”
“Probably not, even though I tried to tell ‘im. He’s acting entirely too casual about it.”
“Maybe he’s overdoing it because he’s nervous and doesn’t want to show any feeling himself.”
“It’s not that I have a problem with a date. Haven’t been able to with a guy for awhile, and it’s a nice change occasionally, which is why I said okay to the dancing. If it was anyone else...but...”
“It’s him.” she finished. She knew how close the two were, it was almost like a brother asking his own brother out. She also knew how Hawkeye really felt about Trapper, things he’d found himself telling in vast detail one night when she’d helped him empty the Still. Things he didn’t dare even tell to himself.
“Yeah. Somethin like that.” Hawkeye kicked at the floor absently.
“So what are you doing to do about it?”
“I don’t know. Go on a date.”
She smiled a little. “I’d offer you something to wear, but I don’t think I have anything that’s your style. Nor that would fit you.”
“Well, there’s really only one way to find out.”
Margaret glared, but Hawkeye could tell she was suppressing a smile and he grinned first. “You’d ruin it,” she said then, “whatever you attempted to put on. Stay out of my clothes.”
“I get in there one time...”
“That was all it took!”
“It was Halloween!”
“Costume or not,” she said with a pointed look and he spread his hands, looking innocent. “The dress and slip were ruined. So were the shoes.”
He shrugged. “I prefer a lower heel. I guess I’m just not the dress sorta guy, Margaret. Frank, on the other hand...”
“Oh, you leave Major Burns alone.” Margaret rolled her eyes.
“I was merely pointing out that he looked better in a dress than I did. And I thought I looked pretty fetching.”
She smirked through her hand. “Well, it fit Frank, for one.”
“So I suppose that means he’s welcome to your wardrobe. Just because I ruined one once – “
“Do you really want to borrow one?”
“No,” he laughed. “I think Trapper might be a little scared if I show up in a dress.”
“Maybe he deserves that.”
Hawkeye snickered. “I won’t say I’m not tempted. If nothing else, for a laugh. But it’d be a bad idea, so no, but thank you.”
“Do you think he’s setting you up?”
He paused. “For what?”
“For what, what would he set you up for? A prank, Captain. You two are always pulling them on others, namely Major Burns, so why not each other?”
He stopped and blinked. “Well, I...I thought before he might have some sort of plan, but I never thought...Why would he do that? Tying my boots together when I’m not looking is one thing, but a prank...about that...that’s...mean.”
“Humiliation? Come on, Hawkeye, that’s what makes a prank really good, when someone is publicly humiliated. The why, I couldn’t say...it’s Trapper. He’s been known to pull a few nasty pranks in the past.” She reminded.
“Yeah, but that was all on Frank.”
Margaret shrugged. “I suppose you know him better than I do, but I’d keep my eye out. It just strikes me as odd when any heterosexual man asks another man to dance with him. And now you’re dating material?”
“Yeah, maybe.” he frowned. This wasn’t a train of thought he really preferred to have when referring to the man who’d been his best friend since college. Then, Trapper had been very strange lately, so maybe different directions of thought on the subject would not be a bad idea.
“Maybe he knows, Hawkeye.”
His head snapped up. “You didn’t – “
“Not one word!” Margaret looked insulted. She hesitated then, and picked at a chipped fingernail. “It’s just possible. I mean, sometimes you are not the most tactful person in this camp. Sometimes when you’re trying to hide something, it’s all the easier to see.”
There was a long pause, inwhich Hawkeye studied her floor. Finally he shrugged. “I guess we’ll just see what happens tomorrow.”
She nodded, yawning. “What are you doing for your date?”
“I think he said movie then a drink.”
“Is he going to hold your hand at the movies?” she teased.
“Har har.”
Margaret laughed. “Get some sleep, Captain, we may have wounded in the morning.”
“Go secure yourself a date with one of your nurses and you go to sleep. Or I could do it for you.”
“Sleep?”
“No, get a date with a nurse.”
“For me or you?”
He grinned then. “Dealer’s choice.”
“Get out of here and go to bed,” she stood up, motioning to the door.
“In that order?”
Margaret raised her fist. “All right, all right.” Hawkeye got up and headed for said exit. “But if you do happen to get a date with one of your nurses, can I come along?” he turned and asked. Margaret kicked his ankle and he yelped, giving her a “Well!” look and then waving goodbye, limping exaggeratedly over to the Swamp. The head nurse rolled her eyes and shook her head and smiled. He was a good guy, she knew.
Hawkeye carefully let himself into the Swamp and made his way to his cot, turning the lamp on and sitting down to pull off his boots. He sat back and then looked across the tent to Trapper’s bunk, but he was facing the other way. He wondered if he was still awake, then contemplated calling to him to find out, but had no idea what he would say after that. He could ask him if he was really serious. Ask him what the hell this was all about. There had to be something else. It wasn’t as easy as Trapper seemed to think it was. Or was it all just a front? There was only one way to find out for sure...but then, he didn’t want to sound obsessed with the idea, waking the other man to question him. But why shouldn’t he? It was weird! It was Trapper! He didn’t know what it was anymore.
Hawkeye sat crosslegged on his cot for about ten minutes, chewing his lower lip and contemplating what to do. He looked over to Frank’s bunk but it was empty, and he frowned. Ferret Face was probably in Post-Op...he could also be bothering Margaret, but that was all right. He was fairly confident Margaret wouldn’t go telling Frank things he’d told her. After all, he had only told Trapper a few of her secrets. He looked over to the other man, who hadn’t moved so far since he came into the Swamp. Hawkeye sighed. < What are you trying to do to me, Trap? > he thought, and sighed again. < Well, I suppose I have a date tomorrow. > He lay down on his back and folded his hands over his stomach and turned the light out.
He dreamed of colours, of faces and garbled sounds. At one point, Tommy Gillis was standing across the street holding a baseball and a glove and grinning, pointing down the street to the park. He’d kissed Tommy, right there on the street, and the blonde boy grinned and lowered his eyes, blushing. Hawkeye grabbed his hand and they raced to the creek. The water was cold, but underneath an old wooden bridge they were safe, and waited for their clothes to dry.
They hardly spoke that day; the setting sun angled between the trees and made Tommy’s hair shining and golden, his eyes lit up like stars and that shy grin never left either of them. Tommy’s eyes were supposed to be blue, but they were brown instead. Hawkeye reached his hand out to hold Tommy’s hand, but it went through his skin to the ground, which was cold and wet. It was raining, and Tommy wasn’t here. There were words in between worlds, some soft sounds, a Boston accent murmuring. He tried to open his eyes, but he saw everything through a film. Go back to sleep, the voice said, brushing his bangs aside. What if I never wake up?, Hawkeye tried to ask, but the sound was just in his head and he was falling.
Falling in love all over again.
<:3D~
Author: Hawkeye’s Martini <:3D~
Rating: PG13, perhaps R later on
Fandom: M*A*S*H
Pairing & Genre: Bit o' Hawpper, romance/comedy
Feedback: Will make me v. happy
Archive: LiveJournal, FF.N
Email: hawkeyes1stmartini@yahoo.com
Warnings: Language, slash
Summary: The nurses are gone and the guys are desperate. Two guys in particular. For different reasons.
Disclaimers: M*A*S*H not mine. Hawkeye, Trapper, Margaret etc not mine. Boy, what I would do with them...
A/N : If you don’t remember, it was stated in Chapter Three that Margaret did not go with the nurses to the Evac, she stayed behind after throwing a tantrum. Also, Margaret is quite out of character, but I really can’t write her. I mean...really. So, bad!Margaret and atthe4077th!Margaret. Apologies to those who are seeing this more than once. Takes place during "There’s Nothing Like A Nurse". Many thanks to
takenhawkeye. Also, the alternate title for this chapter is "There's Nothing Like A Frozen American Flag". Just thought you might like to know that.<:3D~
Hawkeye was waiting patiently outside the door to be let in. He figured she was here; hopefully she didn’t have any, ahem, company. The Swamp had been dark when he passed by, so Frank was either sleeping or...out. Tonight Hawkeye was lucky though, the door cracked open and a sleepy green eye peered out. He grinned and the eye showed recognition before the door opened all the way.
“Good evening,” he said in a Transylvanian accent. “I’ve come to suck your – “
“Suck this,” Margaret elbowed him in the stomach.
“Oof! Thanks.” He said sarcastically and closed the door behind him. “No Ferret Face?”
She shook her head and yawned, sitting down in her bed. “Not tonight.” she looked up sleepily. “What time is it?”
“Little after one.” Hawkeye leaned against her chair and desk. “Were you sleeping? I’m sorry.”
“Oh, I was sleeping, but I’ve gotten by before. What is it?”
He nodded towards the door, where shelling could be heard from off in the distance. “Sorry you didn’t go, or glad you stayed?”
She shrugged. “The girls and the patients are safe, and that’s all I’m concerned with. There was no need for me to go.”
Hawkeye nodded again, slowly. “I just had the most interesting conversation,” he blurted out, then. “and there’s no one else to tell.”
“Who were you talking to?”
“Trapper.”
“Oh? What happened?” Despite their daytime quarrels, the two often found themselves either in her tent or the Swamp after hours, confiding things in each other that could not be trusted with anyone else. She knew Hawkeye would keep quiet about the things she told, and he would come to talk to her about things Trapper didn’t care to hear. Or, in this case, when Trapper himself was the subject.
“Evidently,” Hawkeye began, and she looked up expectantly. “I have a date with Trapper tomorrow.”
Pause. “A what?”
“A date. The movie. With Trapper.”
“But he’s straight!”
“That’s what I said, but does he listen to me? Nooooo. First he’s weird and wants to dance with me, if you believe that.”
She nodded. “Frank mentioned he overheard something about it.”
“I knew he’d tell everyone.” Hawkeye rolled his eyes, then went on. “He just stops all the sudden, says he has to ‘go’, and leaves me standing in the settling dust. Then he avoids me all day today. And now he asks me on a date.”
Margaret frowned. “Just like that, a date?”
“Well, he kicked around the bush for a little bit, said he didn’t mean to make me mad with leaving before...never told me why, just something about it being utterly imperative he leave and I wouldn’t understand. Then I’m sitting there thinking everything was okay, or at least would be, and he goes ‘you wanna go with me to the movie tomorrow?’ I think he’s pullin’ somethin.” Hawkeye clasped his hands and looked up at Margaret. “I dunno what, and I certainly don’t know why. Maybe he’s that worried about the girls that he wants distracted, or he just wants to cheat on his wife with someone, doesn’t matter who anymore. He dodges all my questions. I don’t know if this is about me or not.”
“Well, it doesn’t really sound like he knows how you feel about this.”
“Probably not, even though I tried to tell ‘im. He’s acting entirely too casual about it.”
“Maybe he’s overdoing it because he’s nervous and doesn’t want to show any feeling himself.”
“It’s not that I have a problem with a date. Haven’t been able to with a guy for awhile, and it’s a nice change occasionally, which is why I said okay to the dancing. If it was anyone else...but...”
“It’s him.” she finished. She knew how close the two were, it was almost like a brother asking his own brother out. She also knew how Hawkeye really felt about Trapper, things he’d found himself telling in vast detail one night when she’d helped him empty the Still. Things he didn’t dare even tell to himself.
“Yeah. Somethin like that.” Hawkeye kicked at the floor absently.
“So what are you doing to do about it?”
“I don’t know. Go on a date.”
She smiled a little. “I’d offer you something to wear, but I don’t think I have anything that’s your style. Nor that would fit you.”
“Well, there’s really only one way to find out.”
Margaret glared, but Hawkeye could tell she was suppressing a smile and he grinned first. “You’d ruin it,” she said then, “whatever you attempted to put on. Stay out of my clothes.”
“I get in there one time...”
“That was all it took!”
“It was Halloween!”
“Costume or not,” she said with a pointed look and he spread his hands, looking innocent. “The dress and slip were ruined. So were the shoes.”
He shrugged. “I prefer a lower heel. I guess I’m just not the dress sorta guy, Margaret. Frank, on the other hand...”
“Oh, you leave Major Burns alone.” Margaret rolled her eyes.
“I was merely pointing out that he looked better in a dress than I did. And I thought I looked pretty fetching.”
She smirked through her hand. “Well, it fit Frank, for one.”
“So I suppose that means he’s welcome to your wardrobe. Just because I ruined one once – “
“Do you really want to borrow one?”
“No,” he laughed. “I think Trapper might be a little scared if I show up in a dress.”
“Maybe he deserves that.”
Hawkeye snickered. “I won’t say I’m not tempted. If nothing else, for a laugh. But it’d be a bad idea, so no, but thank you.”
“Do you think he’s setting you up?”
He paused. “For what?”
“For what, what would he set you up for? A prank, Captain. You two are always pulling them on others, namely Major Burns, so why not each other?”
He stopped and blinked. “Well, I...I thought before he might have some sort of plan, but I never thought...Why would he do that? Tying my boots together when I’m not looking is one thing, but a prank...about that...that’s...mean.”
“Humiliation? Come on, Hawkeye, that’s what makes a prank really good, when someone is publicly humiliated. The why, I couldn’t say...it’s Trapper. He’s been known to pull a few nasty pranks in the past.” She reminded.
“Yeah, but that was all on Frank.”
Margaret shrugged. “I suppose you know him better than I do, but I’d keep my eye out. It just strikes me as odd when any heterosexual man asks another man to dance with him. And now you’re dating material?”
“Yeah, maybe.” he frowned. This wasn’t a train of thought he really preferred to have when referring to the man who’d been his best friend since college. Then, Trapper had been very strange lately, so maybe different directions of thought on the subject would not be a bad idea.
“Maybe he knows, Hawkeye.”
His head snapped up. “You didn’t – “
“Not one word!” Margaret looked insulted. She hesitated then, and picked at a chipped fingernail. “It’s just possible. I mean, sometimes you are not the most tactful person in this camp. Sometimes when you’re trying to hide something, it’s all the easier to see.”
There was a long pause, inwhich Hawkeye studied her floor. Finally he shrugged. “I guess we’ll just see what happens tomorrow.”
She nodded, yawning. “What are you doing for your date?”
“I think he said movie then a drink.”
“Is he going to hold your hand at the movies?” she teased.
“Har har.”
Margaret laughed. “Get some sleep, Captain, we may have wounded in the morning.”
“Go secure yourself a date with one of your nurses and you go to sleep. Or I could do it for you.”
“Sleep?”
“No, get a date with a nurse.”
“For me or you?”
He grinned then. “Dealer’s choice.”
“Get out of here and go to bed,” she stood up, motioning to the door.
“In that order?”
Margaret raised her fist. “All right, all right.” Hawkeye got up and headed for said exit. “But if you do happen to get a date with one of your nurses, can I come along?” he turned and asked. Margaret kicked his ankle and he yelped, giving her a “Well!” look and then waving goodbye, limping exaggeratedly over to the Swamp. The head nurse rolled her eyes and shook her head and smiled. He was a good guy, she knew.
Hawkeye carefully let himself into the Swamp and made his way to his cot, turning the lamp on and sitting down to pull off his boots. He sat back and then looked across the tent to Trapper’s bunk, but he was facing the other way. He wondered if he was still awake, then contemplated calling to him to find out, but had no idea what he would say after that. He could ask him if he was really serious. Ask him what the hell this was all about. There had to be something else. It wasn’t as easy as Trapper seemed to think it was. Or was it all just a front? There was only one way to find out for sure...but then, he didn’t want to sound obsessed with the idea, waking the other man to question him. But why shouldn’t he? It was weird! It was Trapper! He didn’t know what it was anymore.
Hawkeye sat crosslegged on his cot for about ten minutes, chewing his lower lip and contemplating what to do. He looked over to Frank’s bunk but it was empty, and he frowned. Ferret Face was probably in Post-Op...he could also be bothering Margaret, but that was all right. He was fairly confident Margaret wouldn’t go telling Frank things he’d told her. After all, he had only told Trapper a few of her secrets. He looked over to the other man, who hadn’t moved so far since he came into the Swamp. Hawkeye sighed. < What are you trying to do to me, Trap? > he thought, and sighed again. < Well, I suppose I have a date tomorrow. > He lay down on his back and folded his hands over his stomach and turned the light out.
He dreamed of colours, of faces and garbled sounds. At one point, Tommy Gillis was standing across the street holding a baseball and a glove and grinning, pointing down the street to the park. He’d kissed Tommy, right there on the street, and the blonde boy grinned and lowered his eyes, blushing. Hawkeye grabbed his hand and they raced to the creek. The water was cold, but underneath an old wooden bridge they were safe, and waited for their clothes to dry.
They hardly spoke that day; the setting sun angled between the trees and made Tommy’s hair shining and golden, his eyes lit up like stars and that shy grin never left either of them. Tommy’s eyes were supposed to be blue, but they were brown instead. Hawkeye reached his hand out to hold Tommy’s hand, but it went through his skin to the ground, which was cold and wet. It was raining, and Tommy wasn’t here. There were words in between worlds, some soft sounds, a Boston accent murmuring. He tried to open his eyes, but he saw everything through a film. Go back to sleep, the voice said, brushing his bangs aside. What if I never wake up?, Hawkeye tried to ask, but the sound was just in his head and he was falling.
Falling in love all over again.
<:3D~
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<:3D~