This is just an idea I had that kind of took over my life.

Pairings will be many and varied, but if you don't like one you can read it as OC/OC because of the nature of the story.

Will contain genderbend in places, slash-as-het, het-as-femmeslash, slash-as-femmeslash, and possible OOCishness (although, again, this is relative).


A young girl seats herself in front of her laptop. If she were to turn the light on, the room would be pure white, but she prefers it off. She can think better that way. She begins to type, the soft clatter of the keys the only sound.

My name is Jeanne Mackerby, she writes, I am seventeen years old, and I am the reincarnation of Trapper John McIntyre.

It sounds crazy, but it's true. At least, I'm pretty sure it's true. It all started a week ago.


"No." The crazy-looking Japanese girl folded her arms. "Jeanne Mackerby, there's no way you are going out in that."

Jeanne was dressed in olive-drab. Head to toe.

"Mim's right." The third member of the group shruuged. "That is way too much khaki!"

"Says you. Miyumi, that shirt was in the men's clothing section. Tassie, if you had any more badges they'd hear you in Australia!"

"All we're trying to say is that you're only going on a date, not a police action." Tassie brushed her blonde hair off her face and sighed.

"Mentally, I am forever in Korea." Jeanne folded her arms. "And 'police action'? You know me better than that."

Miyumi and Tassie looked at each other. "Eventually, Mackerby, you are going to have to accept that there is, in fact, a life outside of seventies TV shows." Tassie turned to root through her friend's wardrobe.


Most girls my age watch 'normal', mainstream stuff. Not me. I watch M*A*S*H. A lot.

I can't help it! I love it, and should anyone challenge me I will give them a deviated septum. That goes double for anyone who dares question the love Hawkeye and Trapper had for one another. They were soulmates, dammit, and WTK pretty much broke my heart. How could it end that way? Finding the answer (the real answer, not the IRL dispute that caused it) obsessed me.

This addiction is the reason I noticed it.


She tired of glaring at her companions and turned to the mirror, clipping up her short brownish-blonde waves. There was something achingly familiar about her reflection when she did that, but it was impossible to place it.

"It's not even my first date." She protested. "Why should I dress like someone I'm not?"

"You already are." Miyumi (better known as Mim) punched her lightly in the arm. "Now make yourself pretty for Lewis."

"Why are you two even here?" Jeanne elbowed her in return.

"So we can save you from yourself." Tassie replied, yelping in pain a moment later when she caught her finger in one of the many pins adorning her jacket.

"Whatever." She conceded, turning around as Tassie unhooked the injured digit and stuck it in her mouth.


Two of my so-called friends, Tassie Drake and Miyumi Kan (Mim), somehow decided I needed help with my love life, so they set me up with Lewis Bricker a couple of weeks ago. He's cute enough, but there was always something missing.


"Whatever?" Mim and Tassie stared.

"I honestly don't care."

"Things aren't working out?" Mim quizzed. Tassie just looked confused, but then, Tassie was never really alert even after seven cups of coffee.

"It's not that." Jeanne hesitated, unsure of how to proceed. "I can see us going the distance. I can see us getting married, having kids...but I can't see myself wanting any of it. I can see myself cheating. We've only been on three dates and I'm already getting bored." She tipped her head back, as though the ceiling had the answers. "He's not totally disgusting, and he's nice to be around, but 'nice' isn't enough. I want fireworks."


We can't have chemistry, I know that now. We never can, because my heart and soul are bound to another's, forever and always, until the end of time. I am physically incapable of settling for anything less. The Lewis Brickers of the world aren't what I want, and they sure aren't what I need.

It took me till Date 4 to realize it, though.


"Jeanne?" Lewis looked across the table at her, concerned. "Are you OK?" For the past five minutes she had been staring into space.

"Sure." She snapped herself out of her trance and nodded.

"Do you even know what I'm talking about?"

Jeanne did not. 'I'm sorry, I just...can't focus right now." The strange sense of déjà vu from earlier was growing stronger all the time. It was on the tip of her tongue...and then it hit her.

Jeannejohnmackerbymcintyrelewislouiseblondhairhazeleyes-

"Holy shit, I'm Trapper John McIntyre!" She stood up quickly. "I'm so sorry, I have to go!" She bolted, leaving a very confused Lewis in her wake.


So now I know who I am, leaving me with two tasks. One: to break it to my friends (and my mum when the time is right). Two: find Hawkeye (my soulmate, obvi) and fix my Epic 'Welcome to Korea' Fail.


"So it's official?" Carson asked as the two of them waited in the lunch queue the following day.

"Yep. Lewis and I are over. I'm single!"

He grinned. "Wanna fix that?"

"I wouldn't go out with you, Carson Spears, if you were the last man alive." Jeanne laughed.

"Not me. Those two," he indicated the people a few places in front of him, "are also members of the Newly Single Club. Double-team?"

"No." She shook her head. "I'm saving myself."

He looked at her in shock. "Who are you and what have you done with Jeanne Mackerby?"

"I'll explain in a minute. It's my turn for food poisoning."


"I have news!" Jeanne declared triumphantly as she sat down, followed by Carson. Tassie, Mim, Lewis and Jake Orwell (the fifth member of her usual group) fixed expectant eyes on her. Carson just smiled.

"We know your conspiracy theory about Louise McIntyre and Louise Burns being the same person, Jeanne."

She ignored the jibe. "It's not that. It's better." She paused for dramatic effect.

"Sooo... Are you going to tell us?" Tassie asked.

"Yep. I, Jeanne McIntyre, was Trapper in a previous life."

Jake screwed up his face, as though trying to place something, before seemingly giving up and going back to his food. Tassie facepalmed. Carson laughed. Lewis groaned.

Mim summed up the general feeling at the table with "You're crazier than I am."

"Listen, I've been thinking really hard about this, and I can prove it! My name and his sound pretty damn similar, we have similar genetic makeup, the name Lewis is literally the male version of Louise and I dated a Lewis and he married a Louise, we both play the ukelele, he was a surgeon and I'm taking A-level biology-"

"Jeanne, I'm pretty sure the last two were deliberate."

"Shut up, Lewis. And it gets even cooler."

"If by 'cooler', you mean 'weirder'." By now, Tassie was seriously considering moving to another table.

"Just hear me out, ye of little faith. I've figured out why I can't maintain an interest in any one guy for more than three days. Not only am I psychically predisposed towards infidelity, due to the whole reincarnation thing, I am doomed to remain so until I can find my eternal soulmate, formerly known as Hawkeye Pierce, and make things right."

"So, in other words, you dumped your boyfriend for Alan Alda." Jake piped up.

"No. That would be creepy. Now are you guys gonna help me or what?"

"If I help you, will it shut you up?" Tassie asked.

"Maybe."

"I'll take that chance. I'm in."

"Me too." Jake would do whatever Tassie said.

"Might as well." Lewis added.

"Could be interesting." That came from Mim. The five of them looked over at Carson.

"Count me in,Trapper Jeanne."

She contemplated the nickname for a moment. "I like it."


And so my quest began. I screwed up big time in my last lifetime, and now I have to undo it in this one. I've started this blog to document my progress, and maybe, just maybe, Hawk's reading this.

If so, I can fix this. I'll find you, I promise. Trust me.

I'm coming, ready or not.


Jake hadn't told anyone, but he'd been having some pretty crazy dreams for the past two years. Not every night, but at least once a week. As soon as he closed his eyes, he'd reopen them in another place, another time. If he looked in a mirror during the dreams, his reflection would be different; lighter hair, skin and eyes, and glasses even though he had perfect vision normally. Disappointingly, he was still as short as ever. They weren't a reccuring dream (the events were always different), more like an alternate reality, another life. He'd be given tasks by a man he knew but had never met, be sent to places he could find on autopilot but had never been, talk to people he didn't know but whose names were written on his memory. Names, he realized now he thought about it, plucked right out of Jeanne's fandom of choice.

As soon as he got home that day, he turned to the Internet, and saw the impossible. The faces, names and locations from the dreams, exactly as he remembered.

Somehow he knew minute details from a show he'd never watched in his life. And he had done since long before Jeanne had even discovered it.

Was it really possible that Jeanne really was Trapper?

Could Jake and Radar really be one and the same person?

What did this mean for everyone else?

Somehow, they would have to find out.