"The ... Ha! The idea of you ..."
BJ was whooping with laughter, trying to get the words out. Hawkeye put on a look of mock indignation and leaned back in his chair.
"Are you saying I couldn't pull it off? Me? The Beau Brummel of the thirty-eighth parallel?"
BJ had just about subsided into chuckles, but this sent him off again. "Pull it off? I should hope you would, and as soon as possible, too!"
Hawkeye felt his mouth twitching. He glanced around the restaurant. A few people -- mostly Americans or other Westerners -- were glancing at them in amusement or irritation. They had quite an audience, really. The perfect opportunity to ham it up.
With his chopsticks, Hawkeye fished a noodle out of the serving bowl and held it out to BJ, dangling the end so that BJ had to catch at it with lips and tongue. BJ chuckled again, a little awkwardly with his head tipped back, but his eyes gleamed at Hawkeye in a private understanding. Oh yes, they had an audience all right.
Taking a bite for himself, Hawkeye tipped his head to one side, consideringly.
"Well, then ..." He spoke softly, pitching his voice for BJ's ears alone. "How about the idea of me out of one of Klinger's dresses?"