GOOK (edited 9/22/17)

The storm raged outside like, well, a storm. Frank Burns stood huddled in the corner of a thatch-roofed worn out old hut, his back pressed against the back wall and his hands rubbing at his cold arms. The reason he was in the corner was not in fact, completely due to the cold or the rain dripping from the open doorway and windows.
The reason was the…well, the gook!
Frank's sour gaze landed on the young Korean woman staring out at the dark world outside of her miserable and broken home, her mouth moving as she whispered too quietly for Frank to catch anything she said. She had allowed him to enter her home from the rain, all the while saying things about her family and an ox mixed in with a lot of Korean words that he didn't understand. Stupid girl couldn't even bother to learn the American language!

A burst of lightning struck the earth not far from their shelter and Frank uttered a surprised (and totallynot terrified) cry, his blue eyes becoming round as saucers. The young woman turned to him and frowned, "You- all-right?" she questioned in halting English. Frank frowned, "None of your business!" he replied wittily, rubbing more furiously at his arms (ok, perhaps she did know some of his language, so what?). He didn't want to have a conversation with a Korean. No, never, never, never!
She didn't seem to mind this and walked away from the door, her long silky black hair swaying as she walked. She slumped down on the ground next to a small wooden table, her hand resting in a fist upon the surface.

Frank swallowed, considering what to do next.

"Margaret please, I want you…I need you!"
"Frank I've told you a thousand times, there is nothing between us anymore! Get over it."

Frank's puppy dog like expression fixed on Margaret Houlihan, the woman of his dreams, the object of his desires…though admittedly those thoughts sometimes extended to his wife and her father's cavernous bank account.
"But Margaret-"
"No Frank!" she snarled, twisting her arms out of his grip after he desperately grabbed her, "Don't you dare touch me again!" her eyes narrowed dangerously.
Burns finally withdrew and watched as Margaret stormed off, his heart forming a strange jumpy rhythm inside his chest.

Why didn't she love him anymore?

"My name, Myeong Hye, what -yours?"

Frank broke from his reverie to look at the Korean woman, his upper lip (what little there was of it) curled up contemptuously, "As if you care!" he spat.
Her brow furrowed, "I do," It was disconcerting to him how honest she sounded. Frank blinked at her, "Uh…Frank," he said after a pause, "…Burns. Major Frank Burns," he echoed as though reciting an old poem.
Myeong Hye smiled faintly at him, "That is- nice name," she complimented. Most likely trying to get on his good side so that she could get close to him and knife him or something! Well she wasn't allowed a step closer to this fella!
"And your name sounds like a sneeze," Burns replied haughtily, raising his chin in the air. This was met by a tinkling laughter that surprised Frank, "And yours, like a-a cough," she replied, eyes crinkling at the corner.
Being so used to insults Frank usually let them roll right off of him... Usually, meaning- never. Every insult stung, but he never knew how to properly combat them when they came. He had never been clever the way Pierce was, he never had to be before the war started. Though Frank at least had the benefit of sometimes not understanding when he was being insulted in the first place. Acting high and mighty usually satisfied his discomfort so the surgeon continued hatefully, "Whatever Yobo!"
She recoiled at the venom in his voice, and her mouth glued shut. Something odd danced in his chest (which would never be identified: guilt) and he swallowed again, fixing his gaze on the primarily dirt floor beneath his feet.

A dying body on the table before him, contemptuous stares fixed upon him…and the cold ring of masked laughter as they taunted him. Too bad a surgeon to save the boy's life, stupid Frank, idiot Frank! He stood wide eyed as Hawkeye stepped to him, took the scalpel gently from his hands, and started cutting properly into what should have been Burns' patient.
He couldn't even argue, the cold upset stare of Margaret was boaring into his skull from behind.
"Go help-retractor- another patient Frank!" Pierce ordered, not even bothering to look up.

The mark of a good doctor was not to see the patient on the table as a human being, right? So when they died, you could move on without the guilt weighing you down. Easy! Frank felt sick as he walked, trying not to expel the contents of his stomach he took a less wanting patient, and began to cut.

Frank's eyes opened to the darkness around him, confused for a moment before he realized that he must have fallen asleep. The cold air penetrated deep beneath his skin and left him shivering, and yet he could feel a slight warmth against his wrist…
"AH!" the man shouted, scrabbling to his feet and pushing the warm something in front of him to the ground. He managed to make out the short figure of Myeong Hye, who sat on her rear before him looking dazed. Frank took in quick breaths, "I knew it!" he accused loudly, the corners of his mouth forming a pleased smile. Dirt, dirt beneath his boots!
Myeong Hye got to her feet and gave him a disbelieving look, "You were- cold," she explained, and held up an item Frank hadn't seen before. A blanket.
Burns' joy at being right melted, the way it always did after every supposed victory. "Yeah right," he finally said, "How do I know you weren't going to smother me? Huh?" he argued, crossing his arms, his limbs stiff due to his poor sleeping position and the ice in his bones. He could still hear the harsh pounding of rain falling heavily against the poor roof. Myeong Hye's eyebrows lowered, "Smother?" she asked.

Ah.

Frank seemed to accept her not knowing the English word as a reason why she would not do it, and allowed himself to relax a little. His mind settled on the odd woman having been horribly misguided but not murderous (yet), as if he needed her help! He licked his thin lips and felt the heat of his tongue, God he was cold!
"I made tea," Myeong Hye said, her voice going a little more apprehensive. (And with some right, her guest had just assaulted her.) Frank shook his head, "No," he sighed, moving back to his corner, "It's probably poisoned." He pursed his lips at the young Korean woman. Myeong Hye shook her head ruefully, "You will- get- cold," she argued, not able to really articulate what she meant within the constraints of her second language. Frank shook his head, "Na-ah, not going to happen sister. You'd like to see me go down now wouldn't you!" he narrowed his eyes accusingly.

Myeong Hye moved to the wood stove resting in the other corner of the room, where a pot of hot water steamed gently. She picked up two small wooden cups with one hand and poured the tea into them, then sat down at the table. She waited a moment before she blew softly at the rising steam, and took a sip. Then she looked pointedly at him with raised eyebrows, "Not poison," she said stiffly.
Frank considered this for a moment, and finally decided he was too uncomfortable to say no anymore.

Frank needed a hug. One of those big hugs that swallowed you up and wouldn't let you go until you were ready. One of those hugs his mother would give after his father took away his nightlight or his brothers decided to play keep away with his- well, anything of his. He curled into a ball on his cot, arms wrapped around his knees, face set in a depressed sort of grimace. Frank had just been punched in the face and by a patient no less, which um…hurt. A lot. He didn't know why the bee had been inside that guy's bonnet, one minute he'd been talking about the greatness of soldiering and their duty to America, then next he was on the floor trying to make himself as small a target as possible while several nurses restrained the other man. All Frank knew was that his face hurt and he wasn't going to press charges until it didn't.
Absently he reached up with one hand and gently prodded his swollen lip, whimpering and squeezing his eyes shut as that sent an awful throbbing through about half of his face.
Hawkeye entered their tent and looked down at his fellow surgeon with that haughty air of importance he always had, "Feeling okay there Frank?" he asked, a smirk barely playing with the corners of his mouth, yet the soft quirk of his brows and the way his eyes scanned the other man represented at least the slightest bit of care.
"Oh go blow it out your ear!" had come the harsh reply, unfortunately sounding rather ridiculous because of Frank's mishappen lip.

Hawkeye tucked a hand into his pocket and sighed, "Whatever you say Frank."

Frank curled his legs beneath him and wrapped his hands around the small wooden cup. His fingers probed the smooth edges, relishing the warmth before he raised the cup to his lips and attempted to drink, "NERTZ!" he yelped, nearly dropping the cup back onto the table before he grabbed at his burnt tongue.
Myeong Hye startled and then smiled, "It is hot," she said, tilting her head ever so slightly to the right. There was strange sympathy in her gaze, perhaps she assumed him not all there. Whatever it was, Frank didn't appreciate it! "Thank you," he spat sarcastically, tapping his knuckles once against the table then pulling his legs inward so that he sat cross legged. Myeong Hye remained silent as she brought her cup to her lips and took a sip. This sudden quiet made Frank uneasy for reasons he could not identify, so he cleared his throat to fill the void. The Korean raised an eyebrow, "Yes?" she asked.
Frank made a noncommittal hum in the back of his throat, fingers toying with his cup, "Uh, so uh… you like cake?"
Oh God, that was so stupid! But hey, most people claimed Frank was stupid, and he was certain Koreans were stupid. So, maybe it worked out alright?
"I don't know-" Myeong Hye's brow furrowed.
Frank's eyes widened in wonderment, "You've never heard of cake? You're weird!" a self-satisfied grin spread across his face. Myeong Hye smiled softly back at him, though confused by the odd American trespasser more than a little bit. "I have not gone out-much."
Burns nodded, "Oh yeah sure," he sighed, still smiling, "how about cheese? Ever hear of cheese?" his blue eyes were sparkling.

This conversation had taken a turn for the absurd, so Myeong Hye took a different path, "Are you a-a soldier?" she asked, though it seemed a pointless question. The ugly green of his clothing and the sickly pale of his skin told her that it was at least partly true.
Caught by surprise Frank blinked at her, "I might as well be," he said, puffing out his chest a little, "I'm a surgeon for the 4077th, a good one! Not that anyone thinks so but they're lecherous cave dwellers," he wrinkled his nose, then, "I'm just as patriotic as any good soldier though!" was added for good measure
It took a few moments for the girl to full grasp what he was saying, not recognizing some of the words spoken. She understood surgeon, and she knew about the 4077th which was sort of close by so she got the gist of it.
"You save many lives I am- sure," she hummed decisively, her mouth forming a crooked sort of grin. Frank found himself focusing on surprisingly pearly white teeth, a few crooked but still maintained as well as one could expect. He cleared his throat to refocus his attention, "Yep, loads!" he curled his hands onto his lap and rocked back and forth a little. He adored where this was going, admiration was rarely afforded to him!
"Why do the- the lechers say you are bad surgeon?" Myeong Hye asked after a short pause. Frank grabbed a cup and took a large gulp, "Oh you know, a few people die on my table sometimes and they never let me forget it!"

"Frank! FRANK! Come on do something!"

Panic! Can't breathe, give up, lost cause! Burns took a step back, sweat rolling down his forehead. "Stop yelling at me guys!" he shouted, "I'd like to see you do this!"
Like before, a man was by his side pushing his way to the patient. Only now it was Hunnicutt whose blue eyes were filled with…oh God.

Disappointment. Judgment. Pity. Anger.

Frank choked out a few insults that didn't affect the man at all before he stepped back and allowed Hunnicutt to take over- not that he had much choice BJ was much taller and stronger than him.
"Ok, he's not too bad off… Watch me ok Frank?" he thought he heard BJ say, but he felt his self-righteousness swell inside of him. "Whatever," he mumbled, brow furrowing angrily.
One of these days he was going to save a dire patient by himself again, and everyone would be eating their words!

Myeong Hye was looking at him with something akin to Hunnicutt's in her stare, "D-do you not care?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. Frank saw the almond shade of her eyes as a clap of thunder brightened their surroundings. She had a small mole just above her lip, strong cheekbones and smooth skin. "I care, when it's one of ours," he replied without thinking and in a tone far too haughty.
A soft sigh escaped Myeon Hye's well shaped lips, she turned her gaze away from him. Frank wasn't sure what he'd exactly said wrong, but felt that same nagging indefinable feeling rise inside of him and squeeze his heart so hard he though it might burst.
To his eventual surprise, Myeong Hye did not throw him out of the hut; instead she kept her attention focused on her finished tea and remained silent and still as a statue.
Silence only broken by the loud beating of rain upon the rooftop filled the room yet again. Frank ran a sweaty hand over a crease in his pant leg, thin lips pursed as he waited for the feeling to eventually subside. It didn't. He briefly considered snapping at the woman for anything, like being a Korean. Which suddenly felt like a stupid thing to accuse someone of because how on earth was that her fault?

"I uh…I sometimes wished that I cared more," Frank said, his voice restrained and nervous the whiny tone usually present completely gone. Later he would put it down to hunger, fear, cold, maybe even spiked tea and manipulation from the enemy. But now, it was wanting to bring what little he could feel to the surface.
"I mean, someone dies and Pierce and Hunnicutt don't let it go! But I-I do," he shrugged, toying with his fingers he added, "Easily. And-and I don't really know why."
Myeong Hye finally looked up at him, again with a sympathetic gaze, "You-feel, for something," she said, an air of finality in her tone.
She was odd, switching her view of him every time he spoke, but Frank didn't mind. She listened. She wanted to like him which he could not say of anyone else he'd ever met besides Houlihan, but that was probably because she wanted in his pants as much as he wanted in hers.
"Maybe," Frank shrugged one shoulder listlessly, "well, there's Margaret…But I wish I didn't feel anything for her!" a wrinkle formed on his forehead, and something lodged in his throat. Myeong Hye nodded, "Go- ahead," she said, pressing the palm of her hand hard onto the tabletop. Frank noted her long nails, dirt jammed beneath. Long fingers, thin and lithe.
"Margaret is the girl I was uh, dating," he said, not quite sure how to describe the situation the two had created for themselves. "The colonel said that going to Battalion Aid might help me forget my troubles, but I'll never forget Margaret!" he insisted.
"Where-did she go?" Myeong Hye asked.

"If you had asked me to marry you truthfully before I met Donald, I would have said yes. But it's too late, I've moved on and you are obviously far too attached to your wife and her daddy's fortune to leave her for anyone. So settle down, do whatever you want with your retched life. Just leave me alone!"

Frank shook his head, "Nothing, forget it," his voice cracked. He knew he wanted to be with Margaret, but he also wanted his wife (bony as she may be) and his three beautiful daughters! Oh, and of course the money too. Maybe more, maybe less, it all jumbled inside poor Frank's head!
Myeong Hye seemed to realize she was riling her companion up and grabbed her ankles, shoulders brought near her ears, "You have sad story," she said simply.
Burns shrugged again, "I do, everyone hates me -" he blinked then added honestly, " -I don't know why... What about you?" the actual question had been intended to be "Does anyone hate you?" so that he might feel better. But Myeong Hye took it differently. "My family is gone, and I am alone," she said, her bottom lip fixing between her teeth. Frank blinked at her a few times before he felt urged to question this new information, "Why?"
The young Korean woman's eyes filled with tears, "The bombs, they fell too close. They flee'd, but I could not leave my-my home," she swallowed a clear lump in her throat, "I fear I shall soon starve," she looked up at her companion.

"To death?"

Another stupid question, which forced a crooked smile to form out of her her mouth, "Yes," she answered, digging her nails into the flesh of her heel. She had lovely feet, petit, rounded toes and rough soles that needed lotion. Burns licked his upper lip, he'd always enjoyed Margaret's feet, her ears, the things most people barely noticed. The least obvious things. With his wife, it was her eyes. Empty maybe, but a beautiful chocolate brown.
Myeong Hye took in a deep breath, "I fear my family is dead, I have no way of…" her voice trailed off and she freed her hand to rub at one of her eyes.

Something inside Frank twisted and blackened when he saw the soft dew roll from her eyes and collect on her sleeve, his upper lip twitched slightly before he reacted in an unusual manner. He slowly climbed over the table, knees aching against the hardwood. His hands rose gently and cradled against Myeong Hye's jaw. Without the go to from his brain, Frank leaned forwards and me his lips with hers.
Kissing Myeong Hye was soft and a little bit salty, she had a cut he hadn't noticed in the darkness which he probed with tongue and lips. He leaned further in towards her and let out a single pleasured note, stroking her neck with his thumbs as Myeong Hye deepened the kiss at the same time.
A burst of lightening and the boom of thunder pulled the two from their embrace, and Frank yelped, "I didn't do that!" he cried, pulling away, "I didn't do that, I didn't do that!" hysterical laughter edged its way around his words as he landed on his rump on the dirt floor.
The young (beautiful) Korean woman shook her head, "You did," she said simply, folding her hands in her lap, a soft blush spread across her cheeks. Burns shook his head, "I can't have, I can't… You're a gook, a commie, a thief, a nothing!" tears welled in his eyes.

He'd failed his father- his country! He'd given into to lust or-or the Red's manipulation and proved that he was no better than Pierce!

Myeong Hye didn't seem swayed by his insults, she'd seen behind the façade. The careful way her hand crept forward across the table's edge and took his quivering fingers was enough to at least stop Frank's frantic hyperventilation, "It is alright Frank Burns" she said, "I know we cannot…" she stopped herself, but Burns knew what she meant. Be together; bring each other "closer". She pulled him towards her and wrapped her arms around narrow shoulders, his forehead pressed against her collarbone. Frank felt her hand moving through his hair, probing his scalp.
He wondered what he might discover about this girl, what made her the way she was-easily trusting and calm. He wanted to run his fingers through her hair, maybe massage her feet, or bring her into another kiss-but restrained himself. Instead he allowed her to hold him.

...

Burns woke up still in Myeong Hye's arms, though the woman had moved the two of them and had finally fallen asleep herself. He felt her heart beat and each breath she took and felt as though his matched.
Frank smacked his lips quietly so as not to disturb her, he could still taste the tea she had made for him. Big blue eyes took in his surroundings; the hut looked less uh, archaic in the daylight. He could see the few personal touches that his home would never have, such as a clay pot filled with flower-like weeds. A painting had been hooked precariously on the wall nearest the door, it was sloppy and amateur, but still added to the overall aesthetic of the room.
Frank swallowed, remembering the happenings of the night. He had no idea what to do about all that had occurred or how to feel. This was what happened when one gets sent to Battalion Aid, you end up spooning a Korean! He smiled half-heartedly at his joke (eat that Pierce!).

Frank managed to pull himself from Myeong Hye's arms without waking her, and he set about reheating what was left of the tea in the pot. It became apparent that the poor woman had little else. He decided then and there that he would return and he would take some food back with him for Myeong Hye! Even if she was a Korean she didn't deserve to die. In truth, not many people did.
"You are awake," Myeong Hye said from her spot on the floor, stretching out her arms and legs like a cat. She stood, bland clothing covering up her perfect feet much to Frank's disappointment.
The army surgeon bit his bottom lip, "I can't stay you know, it stopped raining so I can go home now." Myeon Hye nodded soberly, "Yes."

The two filled their cups and sat down at the table, relishing the warmth and each others pitiful company.
It seemed to be only ten minutes, but an hour had passed before Frank realized that he had to leave. He pushed his cup away from him and smiled lightly at Myeong Hye, "This was...fun I guess," he said feeling rather ridiculous as he did so, getting to his feet. She did the same, and followed behind him as he walked out of the hut and towards the jeep. Frank wrinkled his nose, realizing just how wet the seat of his pants were going to get. This was glossed over by the hug Myeong Hye pulled him into, her chin resting in the gap between his collarbone and shoulder. Frank kissed the top of her head and returned the hug, the best he could think to do.

"Goodbye Myeong Hye."

She watched as he drove away.

Frank gripped a glass filled with amber liquid, ice swirling around inside of it. He looked blearily at the bar around him, blue eyed gaze to distant for him to ever appear sober.
Colonel Potter had though it a good idea to send Burns off to Seoul in hopes of taking his mind of Margaret's marriage to Donald Penob-snot. The young man giggled to himself as the name repeated in his head, it sounded good. That stupid idiot…face.
His fingertips danced around the edges of his glass, which reminded him vaguely of the wooden cups belonging to Myeong Hye. He hadn't gotten her food yet, but in his drunken state, he didn't much care. He would do it when he came back. He wouldn't let her die of starvation.

Wait… his gaze landed on a blonde woman entering with another man. The spit left his mouth as he realized who it must have been. His cheeks flushed as lust and love mixed with each other and were given leeway through severe amounts of alcohol. Any thoughts of Myeong Hye left his mind, never to return.

"Margaret!"

Welp, there you go.

1: This is my first M*A*S*H Fanfiction can you believe it? I bet you can. XD

2: I hope I got Frank in character, I really do. Truth be told I actually hold a lot of sympathy for him, erm, more like pity. He's so pathetic! So sad and confused.

3: How was Myeong Hye? I tried to make her interesting, but this was more about Frank than anything else. Besides, I didn't want to make this too long, so I couldn't delve too deep into her. And of course you know what happened to Frank after the drunken scene so um…I'll leave you to imagine what happened to her.

4: Please Review, it would mean a lot to me! (Even criticism of course)