Umbrella
Hawkeye and Trapper walked around campus, taking in everyone else scurrying around to get their belongings to their dorms, or the clubs and societies hanging around the entrance way, looking for newcomers. They had arrived earlier, earlier than they were supposed to really.
They had spoken with Dean Potter last year, just as they were leaving. They asked if they could come back a day early to unpack all of their 'valuables.' Of course, knowing the two of them, he had been more than a little suspicious, asking if he would be hearing from Burns the day after he returned. He would be, and they all knew it, but they had lied and said they would behave as perfect little angels. With that oh, so wonderful thought in his mind, he had said they could come back earlier than some of the other students, but they would not be allowed to return a full day ahead of schedule.
That had suited them just fine. They wouldn't need an entire day to pull off what they were going to…in fact they just needed Frank to show up and then leave in search for Margaret. Everything else was in place for them.
They smiled at each other deviously as they left the confines of the dorms. Hawkeye twirled his clear, plastic umbrella around innocently, noting the lovely autumn colors as new people milled around him and his friend. Trapper had his hands stuffed deep into his pockets, smacking his gum loudly and completely oblivious to anything that wasn't of female persuasion. They waved to a few people they knew, Trapper paying special attention to any of the female students and Hawkeye making catcalls to them. They had seen Dean Potter walking around the grounds, keeping close tabs as to where they were once he had seen them.
They said a quick hello to Spearchucker Jones and continued on, enjoying the nice quiet day for what little time they had left. If not Frank, one of their friends, or someone they equated to a friend, would be around soon to ruin the peace.
Right on cue, "Hawkeye! Trapper!" Margaret yelled as she came barreling up to them. She practically hopped into Hawkeye's arms, hugging him so hard he nearly dropped his umbrella. Then she went to Trapper, and gave him a friendly, almost austere hug. Clearing her throat, sporting a small blush she asked, "Have you seen the new kid?"
The two men exchanged confused looks, before Hawkeye told Margaret in a condescending tone, "Margaret, it's a college. New kids come every year, whether you notice or not."
"But he's from California!" she screeched, flapping her hands around her to show them just how important this new student was.
Hawkeye and Trapper didn't get such importance, even with the outrageous hand gestures. The 'new kid' was just like every other 'new kid' they had had in the four years they had been attending this college. Really, it wasn't that exciting.
"You think he's carrying the Golden Gate Bridge in his pocket or something?" Trapper asked, smacking on his gum even louder as he spoke.
She glared momentarily, her lips set in a straight line and her eyes narrowed as she looked between them. She found no argument to give them, or didn't care to give them anymore of her time a with a loud shout of, "Men!" she turned on her heal and marched away.
They watched her go for a moment before Hawkeye asked, "You think it's a woman thing?"
"No, else you'd be doing it too."
Hawkeye pushed Trapper away from him, rolling his eyes at the sad stab at his sexuality.
Paddle-ball
Trapper sat on his bed trying to get the paddle-ball to work for him the way Hawkeye could. Hawkeye was laughing at his horrid attempts, doubled over on the chair at the desk.
"Well, so far you have a wonderful running streak of one," he gasped out in between cackles.
Trapper tossed the toy and Hawkeye half-heartedly. Hawkeye laughed even harder, trying to get the toy off of him, which was difficult considering the ball had fallen over his shoulder and the elastic string was only stretching.
There was a knock on the doorway, because the two of them always kept their door open during the day, and most nights if truth be told. Trapper said it was so Hawkeye wouldn't try to take advantage of him in the middle of the night. Hawkeye had told him if he really wanted to an open door wouldn't hinder him. They both turned their heads to the door to see a tall—strikingly handsome, in Hawkeye's opinion—blonde man standing there, looking a little apprehensive as he looked at the two of them.
"Ah, you must be the new man from sunny California," Hawkeye said with a big smile.
"Not to be confused with Sunny-D," Trapper threw in thoughtlessly.
Hawkeye paid him no mind and continued, "What can we do for you, weary traveler?"
"I'm looking for a store of some sort. These dorms come with everything except food to eat," he said, looking around there already dirty and cluttered room.
Trapper didn't waste a beat, automatically adding, "And women in your bed."
Hawkeye rolled his eyes, and the unnamed man laughed nervously, "That too. So can you tell me how to get to a supermarket or something?"
"Uh, yeah," Hawkeye said, thinking over how to get to the Piggly Wiggly. "We have a super-market on Memorial and sixty-eighth street." The new-comer gave him a droll stare. He was new here, Hawkeye remembered. He obviously wouldn't know where those streets were. "See what you've got to do is go
down seventy-first street until you hit Memorial and then take a left. You take that street until you find a porn store; it'll be on the left. The supermarket will be right behind that," Hawkeye said, Trapper nodding the entire time.
The blonde in the doorway stared at them blankly. "Do you mind putting that in people terms?" he asked hopefully.
Hawkeye shared a look with Trapper, asking silently if perhaps they should show him personally. Trapper shrugged, "Why not?"
"Yeah," he said absently, already turning his attention back towards the man in the doorway. "We'll take you,…uh?"
"BJ. BJ Hunnicutt."
"I'm Ben Pierce. Call me Hawkeye," he said, standing and disentangling the paddle-ball from his person. He waved vaguely towards his bunkie. "This is my heterosexual life-mate, 'Trapper' John McIntyre."
Trapper extended his hand, asking, "What's the B.J. stand for?"
A smile stretched across BJ's face, "Anything you want."
He stepped back away from the door to let them out. Trapper went to say something crude, but Hawkeye put his hand over his mouth with a look that said, 'Drop it.'
Whistle
Walking back to the dorms with their arms full of groceries was mostly quiet. Aside from the drum of traffic, the twittering of birds, and Trapper whistling the most annoying tune in the history of mankind, it was awkwardly quiet…and it was driving Hawkeye mad! He didn't normally mind silence, but this was just tense. It was obvious that BJ didn't know what to say to them, Trapper didn't care at all if anything was said, and Hawkeye…he was about to break the ice.
"So, who're you bunking with, BJ?" the only brunette in the group asked, turning his head to catch BJ jumping comically when he was spoken to. He looked at the ground guiltily and Hawkeye just had to smile. He didn't want to be self-obsessed, but he was pretty sure that BJ had just been looking at him.
Clearing his throat, BJ answered, "Uh…Burns. Frank Burns."
Trapper and Hawkeye looked at each other and then to BJ pitifully. "You got stuck with ferret face?" Trapper asked. Suddenly a smile spread across his face, making him look momentarily crazed. He elbowed Hawkeye in the side saying jovially, "He's got a nice shoe collection, eh, Hawk?"
Hawkeye thought for a moment that Trapper really had lost it, but one look at his friend's practically glowing face and it all came rushing back to him. He chuckled humorously and said, "Ah, yes. Marvelous shoe collection. He is the envy of many a woman…and a certain transvestite I know."
"Is there something I should know?" BJ asked Hawkeye worriedly.
As if on cue all three jumped to the sound of, "Pierce! McIntyre!"
They turned around to see a man with no chin and deep pores stomping up to them…in powder blue high-heel shoes. "What have you done to my shoes?" he snarled, his beady little eyes glaring at them.
Trapper didn't stand a chance. The moment he saw Frank's shoes, he was doubled over dropping his groceries to the ground and laughing so hard his eyes glistened with tears. Hawkeye kept his cool, but only barely, and looked down at his shoes and then to Frank. "I just gave them a bit of a polish," he said with a simple shrug and smile. "I know how you like your things to have that Mr. Clean shine."
Frank's face got even redder, and Hawkeye could swear he saw steam coming out of the man's ears. "You stole all my shoes and replaced them with…with… these!" he screeched pointing at his shoes.
Hawkeye had the audacity to look clueless as he looked back to Trapper's tear stricken face. Innocently, he asked, "Did I?"
Trapper was smacking Hawkeye's arm, trying to get him to look at Frank's shoes again, and he even heard laughter from BJ. Hawkeye couldn't help but smile smugly at that, feeing that he had accomplished the world after making BJ laugh. His smile grew at Frank's fish out of water look. The man's mouth was opening and closing repeatedly as he looked between the three of them.
Finally the beady eyed man yelled, "Wait until I tell the Dean!"
Hawkeye wasn't fazed. "Potter likes me better than he likes you." He punctuated that sentence by sticking his tongue out.
Frank huffed and stomped away, walking bow-legged in the heels that Trapper and Hawkeye had picked out for him. By the time he was in the building, Trapper was practically on the ground from his cackling and BJ and Hawkeye shook their heads.
"That would have to be Frank Burns, wouldn't it?" BJ asked covering his mouth as he hid the remains of his smile.
Trapper smiled finally coming out of his laughing spell. "Good, ol' ferret face," he croaked happily while picking up the groceries he had set on the ground.
BJ nodded, "You're right. He does have impeccable taste in shoes, though I think it would have been better if he wore flats with those pants."
Hawkeye looked back at Trapper, a smile growing on his face. "I think he'll fit in around here just fine," he said, clapping BJ on his shoulder and beginning the trek back to their dorms.
Pretzel
Hawkeye was teaching BJ how to play a game using only pretzels while Trapper bounced around the room. Hawkeye only watched the man out of the corner of his eye, having lived with him for many passed years he was used to his exercising habits. BJ, however, was more intent on Trapper than the pretzel game. It was like a trance that BJ couldn't pull himself out of.
"Trapper does boxing," Hawkeye told BJ, hoping to lessen the blonde man's attention on Trapper and return it to the game before Hawkeye ate all the pretzels.
BJ startled out of his trance and looked back to the game at hand, taking two pretzel sticks that he had in his hand and pull more towards him out of a pile that had been created, careful not to let them fall.
From where Trapper was running and jabbing at thin air, he asked, "Do you do any sports, Sunny Delight?"
"I'm on track," BJ answered disregarding the name completely.
"Ah, track," Hawkeye said acting like that was a great achievement.
BJ looked up at him, clear blue locking with clear blue across the small table they were sitting at. He smiled, and asked, "Yeah, you run, Hawk?"
The brunette smiled back cheekily. "Only when chased."
Trapper stopped this exercising, heaving a deep sigh as he shook out his limbs. He walked toward his bed, stepping over obstacles, and booby-traps to actually land on the bed covered in even more filth. He pulled off his shirt and threw it into some distant corner where it would most likely evolve and start a war against the dirty socks that were under Hawkeye's bed. He pulled another shirt out from under him and tugged it over his head, grabbing his deodorant from his shelves.
"Hey, you two, I gotta go to class," he said still breathing heavy. He threw the deodorant back in the direction of his shelves and picked up a book from the floor along with a few sheets of paper that were only marginally crumpled.
"Like that?" BJ asked taking in Trapper's disheveled, wrinkled, and mostly sweaty appearance.
Trapper smirked. "This'll guarantee I get the seat I want."
"Have fun in Chemistry," Hawkeye said with a little wave of his fingers.
"Are you kidding," the curly-haired blonde leered. "I hear Hot Lips is taking that class, too."
He left the room, leaving BJ and Hawkeye alone. "Hot Lips?" BJ asked curiously as Hawkeye went back to their game. Those two had obviously been friends for too long if this little scene had no bearing on the brunette's mind.
"Margaret Houlihan," Hawkeye amended. "She used to date your bunky. She's got one hell of a temper, which naturally means Trapper is all over her."
"Oh," he said though it really didn't help to clarify who this 'Hot Lips' was. He watched Hawkeye carefully, until he made a mistake and dropped the pretzel he had been going after. Suddenly, a little awkwardly, he asked, "What about you? You got a girlfriend?"
Hawkeye looked up and smirked, wondering if it was just him or if BJ looked a little apprehensive. "Not for a while. You?"
BJ shook his head, adding—with relief? Did Hawkeye dare to hope?—quickly as he did so, "Not since I was nineteen."
Hawkeye smiled, feeling that perhaps he had found a companion.
Trash
Hawkeye, BJ, and Trapper were in BJ's dorm devising evil plans to annoy Frank, when Margaret rushed in.
"Have you seen that rat?" she huffed angrily. Her hair was windblown and her face was red. Her blue eyes darted around the room ominously. Had Hawkeye liked Frank, he may have pitied him. As it was…
"Which one? We have two present in the room," BJ said pointing to Hawkeye and Trapper.
"Burns!" she growled, clenching her fists at her side. "My underwear has been rifled through and I just know it was that fink!"
"Don't jump to conclusions," Hawkeye said cockily. "It could have been me."
She waved him off with a laugh. "Don't be ridiculous. You wouldn't go through my panties."
"Alright, Hot Lips, I confess. It was me," Trapper said turning around briefly to show Margaret his predatory smile.
Margaret rolled her eyes. "Don't call me that," she said tiredly. Giving the room an actual look around, and seeing Trapper disassembling Frank's bed, she must have come to the realization that Frank wasn't in the room, and asked calmly, "Where is that flat-faced weasel?"
BJ shrugged, "He said he was going to classes."
She rolled her eyes, saying, "Figures." Then, she sat between Hawkeye and BJ, who were sitting on BJ's bed while Trapper demolished Frank's bed. She looked between them, noticing for the first time that it wasn't only Trapper and Hawkeye who were in the room. She smiled a toothy grin. "Hi. I'm Margaret Houlihan, and you are?"
"Margaret, meet Sunny Delight," Trapper said distractedly, putting a screw down beside him.
"Sunny Delight?" Margaret asked BJ, confusion etching her pretty face.
He nodded, giving his real identity and the reason behind his nickname all in one breath, "BJ Hunnicutt. I'm from sunny California, which is not the same as Sunny D, thus I am Sunny Delight."
"California?" she said with awe and excitement. This was the man she had wanted to meet so badly on their first day back at college. She must have been so excited to have fresh meat. "How wonderful! I've always wanted to go there. Tell me, is it beautiful over there?"
Hawkeye leaned over to her, whispering in her ear, "Down, Margaret."
She glared at him, and BJ smiled. "Yeah, it's nice over there, but I've lived there all my life so I'm of the impression it isn't that great."
"Oh, well, that's understandable," she said with a disappointed look on her face. She looked over to Trapper, who gave her a fake sad face, drawing an invisible tear down his face. Rolling her eyes, yet again, she threw one of BJ's pillows at him, causing the curly-haired man to laugh hysterically.
Hawkeye leaned back to gain BJ's attention. When he had it, he smiled at the blonde with a look on his face that said, 'see? I told you Trapper was all over her.'
Movies
BJ walked into Hawkeye's dorm room while Trapper was at classes and sat down on Hawkeye's bed. That was where he normally perched due to the somewhat cleanly state Hawkeye, versus the disaster area that was Trapper's bed. Hawkeye liked to tell himself that BJ only sat there because it was Hawkeye's, but the other version was more likely.
"Don't you ever go to class," BJ asked as he saw Hawkeye watching a movie on his laptop.
"The same could be asked of you," he shot back with a smile. "Are you even taking classes?"
"Yeah," BJ said with an incredulous laugh. "What about you, Mr. Movie-Man?"
"Uh-huh. One per day."
"When was today's class?"
"It started at eight and ended…" Hawkeye looked at his watch just long enough to see that it was a quarter passed noon. "…about an hour ago."
The blonde nodded, scooting closer to where Hawkeye was at his desk, caddy corner to where he was at. "What are you watching?" he asked as he crouched down next to Hawkeye.
"Wizard of Oz. It's a classic."
"And very mature," BJ said with a straight face.
"I'm a very mature person," Hawkeye said with a slight shrug.
"I've realized that in the last two weeks. Especially the night you gave Frank a whipped cream beard. That was so mature."
"You helped!" the brunette accused.
"So did Trapper."
"See? We're all on the same level of maturity."
BJ just smiled and nudged the other man's knee playfully.
Ball
BJ walked towards Hawkeye and Trapper's room right as they were heading out with a ball being passed between them. He had been looking for an escape from Burns. Ferret-face had been on this cleaning trip and anything out of place was cause for decapitation in him mind. It was driving BJ mad. But it looked like his two friends were leaving. He didn't want to impose, or be nosey, but he had to escape Frank!
They caught sight of him and the ball which they had began tossing back and forth between them halted in Hawkeye's hands.
"Where are you two heading?" BJ asked, maybe a bit too desperately.
Hawkeye tossed the ball to Trapper. "We're heading out to Sal and Sal's," he said.
Trapper tossed the ball back to Hawkeye. "Wanna come?"
BJ's hopes deflated a little. "I've already eaten."
Trapper shrugged, smacking the gum in his mouth as he said, "So have I. We're just going to watch Hawkeye eat."
"We?" BJ asked, with a chuckle. "Is it some sort of Olympic sport?"
"Yeah, we. Hawk, Margaret, me, and now you," Trapper said with a smile as he turned to Hawkeye with a knowing look.
Though, he was glad he had been automatically included, BJ couldn't help but put up a playful defense. "Oh, so now I'm going to watch Hawkeye eat as well?"
Hawkeye tossed the ball into BJ's non-expectant arms and grabbed him by the sleeve. Giving him a winning smile, Hawkeye said, "Yeah, you didn't protest fast enough."
"I understand," the blonde said, as he was jerked forward by the brunette's grasp, dropping the ball carelessly.
White-fish
Hawkeye watched as Trapper and Margaret argued across from him. BJ sat beside him, leaning back in the booth they were sharing, his head swinging left and right on his shoulders as he watched the two of them fight. Hawkeye for the most part ignored the two, focusing more on the man next to him and the way his leg bounced anxiously underneath the table. Of course…there was also the white-fish. He felt BJ shift, sitting practically thigh to thigh with him.
"She isn't gonna hit him is she?" he asked, his breath sending shivers down Hawkeye's spine.
He shook his head a little, willing himself not to turn into a puddle of goo. He turned his face to the side not realizing just how close BJ was to him until it was too late. Their noses were only centimeters away from each other and that made Hawkeye's heart-rate triple in a matter of seconds. Swallowing the stutter that was surely making it's way into his voice, he managed to answer, "No. They're just showing off for my white fish."
BJ gave him a comical stare. "You're white fish has to be performed for?" he asked, raising his eyebrow as he looked down at Hawkeye's plate of half eaten fish.
Hawkeye came back to himself rapidly when the other's beautiful blue eyes left his and he whispered theatrically, "This white fish is fantastic. It should have its own food group."
BJ brought his eyes back up to Hawkeye's and smiled winningly. "Okay, if it's that good I've got to try it."
Hawkeye cut a sliver off with surprisingly steady hands and held it up for BJ to take in his mouth. He really should have stopped watching when BJ went to take the bite. Really that would have been the smart thing to do. As it was, he struggled to keep his breathing normal as he watched BJ's lips close around his fork. He couldn't take his eyes away from the other's jaw while the muscles worked as he chewed thoughtfully. Yes, Hawkeye had officially classified BJ as a walking torture device.
"Hawk…" His eyes dashed back up to meet BJ's. "It's just fish." The other man smiled, seeming to know what Hawkeye had been doing just moments before.
He was quiet for a moment simply staring at BJ, but finally he forced his brain to work and he scoffed, "You don't know what you're talking about."
BJ smiled, and was it just Hawkeye or was the blonde leaning even closer towards him? He felt hope rush through his ribcage along with anticipation. He moved towards BJ as well, his hand twitching and lifting up from the table intent on tangling in the soft-looking blond hair.
They were startled as the argument that had continued and grown without their awareness.
"It doesn't matter what you think, McIntyre! I'm my own person and I don't need your permission to do anything!" Margaret screamed out of no where, standing up to leave. She gave Trapper one final glare and then stormed out, leaving the three men and the rest of the diner's occupants staring after her with wide eyes.
Trapper looked back at the two of them, blinking owlishly and with a perplexed look on his face as he asked, completely oblivious to anything that had transpired between them, "Did I say something wrong?"
Hawkeye and BJ shrugged innocently.
Datebook
Hawkeye entered into BJ's room the next afternoon, and found his friend hunched over his desk, staring into a datebook and penning something every so often. The blonde looked to be in deep concentration, and as far as the brunette could tell, he had gone unnoticed in his entrance. He watched as BJ looked over his datebook scrutinizing every entry as he went further into the year.
Moving quietly, he walked over to the blonde's side, hovering over him and reading what was written in the book. "Whatcha doing?" he asked quietly, leaning down to get a better look.
"I'm organizing," BJ replied absently, writing down the finals dates in all his classes.
Hawkeye made a face. "Organization? What's that?"
"Something you know nothing of," BJ answered, finally tearing himself away from his planning. "What are you up to?" he asked with a growing smile.
"I'm bored," the brunette said looking around the Frank-free room as if entertainment would suddenly present itself to him.
BJ raised his eyebrow, questioningly. "And watching me plan my entire life from now until the next millennia alleviates your boredom?"
Hawkeye shook his head. "No, but it's something to do." He looked over the planner again, from farther away, and noticed something that made him smile. "You don't have anything on Friday," Hawkeye said noticing the completely blank square. A plan was forming in his mind, and he liked it more and more the longer he thought about it.
BJ looked back down at his desk, tilting his head to the side as while tapping his pen against the wood. "I know…the blankness looks so odd in the midst of all this ink," he said, the tapping of his pen picking up tempo.
Hawkeye pulled the pen from his fingers, leaning over him to write at a better angle, as he put his plan to work. When he finished writing, he moved away, letting BJ lean over to see what he had written. The blonde smiled. "Date with you, huh?"
Hawkeye shrugged with a coy smile on his face. "You don't have anything better to do."
Shoes
"What has you so wound up?" Trapper asked from his bed. He had been watching Hawkeye flit from one side of the dorm to the other for the better part of an hour, and it was making him dizzy.
Hawkeye glanced over his shoulder briefly as rifled through his dresser. "I've got a date tonight," he said, as he through random articles of clothing onto his bed.
"A date?" Trapper asked with shock more than evident in his tone. His face screwed up with confusion. "Did you go back into the closet?"
"No! I have a date with a male friend," he huffed, throwing a yo-yo towards his best friend's head and missing only by a few centimeters.
The blonde asked, "You found another one of you around here?"
Hawkeye was sure that his friend meant for that statement to come out better. But it didn't come out good and he rolled his eyes, feeling a little self-conscious. "Yeah. We're everywhere, Trap. Be sure to lock your chastity belt tonight."
"I didn't mean it like that. I'm just shocked. We've been at this college for four years and you've never had a date," Trapper amended.
"Maybe not one that you remember," Hawkeye muttered just loud enough to be heard.
"You're my best friend!" he exclaimed. "I don't just forget that you have a love life."
"What are you talking about?" Hawkeye yelled back, as he got on his hands and knees. "You forget my birthday most years." He leaned down to look under the bed. However, he couldn't see a damn thing due to all of the dirty clothes he had stuffed under there.
"One year!" Trapper huffed disbelievingly as Hawkeye disappeared under his bed, throwing his dirty laundry into view the further he moved inwards. The blonde shook his head, irately throwing himself onto his bed.
Margaret entered their room then, and stopped in momentary shock at the scene before her. It quickly passed, though, and she shook her head, moving over to sit next to Trapper. "Hawkeye, what are you doing under the bed?" she asked with concern.
"I'm looking for my shoes," Hawkeye's muffled reply came.
"You're shoes are all over the place!" she proclaimed, looking around at the shoes that littered the floor randomly.
"I have a date tonight, Margaret! I want my nice shoes." the brunette said as he emerged from under his bed. His black hair was messier now that it had met with the underside of a bed, and his eyes were frantic as he looked for a specific pair of shoes, obviously meant for dates. He could see Margaret's features lightening, the tousled look always having been a weak point for her.
"The ones you stole from Charles?"she sighed helplessly.
"Yes! Those!" Hawkeye yelled practically jumping into her lap. "Do you know where they are?"
"Aren't they in the closet?"
"The closet?" The brunette wrinkled his nose at the thought. "I don't wanna go in there."
From behind Margaret, Trapper's voice deadpanned, "He had such a hard time getting out."
Margaret stood with a sigh and entered into their closet pulling out the nice shoes that Hawkeye had stolen from Charles. He clapped giddily before taking them from her.
"Margaret, you're an angel," He said giving her a quick, joy-filled kiss right on the lips. "I'll stop whatever rumors I just started about you" He threw himself onto his clothes covered bed and pulled the shoes on. When he had laced and tied them, he sprung to his feet to examine himself. In a button down that he wouldn't tuck in if is life depended on it, and a regular pair of blue jeans he came to the conclusion, "I feel overdressed?"
Margaret rolled her eyes and smiled. "Hawkeye, normal-dressed for you is underdressed, therefore, overdressed is normal-dressed for you. Don't sweat it," she said, giving him thumbs up. From behind her Trapper nodded with a smile.
That was all Hawkeye needed and then he was out the door to kidnap BJ.
Alcohol
If the date had gone any better, Hawkeye would have had to pinch himself. With no one but each other to focus on Hawkeye had realized that BJ was practically his other half. It was like fitting a puzzle together to make one giant picture of perfection. They had connected in a way that Hawkeye didn't think he had ever felt with another human. And even thought those were scary thoughts to be entertaining on the first date, it felt right.
They stepped out of the Piggly Wiggly that Hawkeye had first taken BJ to. It was an odd way to end a date, but he found if you let yourself simply meander around a shopping center talking came naturally. They had already gone to dinner and a movie; it was time for a little flare. How many people could say that for a date they went to the supermarket?
BJ echoed such a thought, saying, "Well this has been an interesting night."
"You had fun though, right?" Hawkeye asked, wanting to make sure his show didn't just work on an audience.
BJ smiled and nodded. "I did. I'm glad I asked you out."
Hawkeye smiled too, because they both knew that Hawkeye had been the aggressor in setting a date. He didn't say anything about it though. He went along with it and said, "I am too."
This time it wasn't Hawkeye's imagination, when he caught BJ looking at him. It wasn't just him when BJ leaned forward. Hope and anticipation flooded him again, and this time when his hand twitched, he let
it tangle in BJ's hair as if it belonged there. And thankfully, there was no arguing going on around them as a distraction, so their lips met without hesitation.
There might as well have been fireworks going off; that's how perfect it was.
A/N: clears throat I hope this goes over well. The people on the MASH group seemed to like it…but I'm still unsure.
I don't own the show or the characters.
Please review and tell me if you like it. I don't see stories like this often and that could be because they suck. So please tell me if it sucked or didn't suck.
InnocentGuilt