The walk from the Admin office to the tent Hawkeye would be calling home for the next couple of years was filled with laughter and understanding. Hitching the obviously loose strap back up onto his shoulder, Trapper took a quick step forward and opened the squeaky hinged door for his new comrade.

"I'd apologise for the mess," he offered, stepping in after the shaggy haired brunette. "But I haven't been here long enough to make one, so I wouldn't know what you're complaining about."

Taking in the mosquito netted walls, very basic furniture, and busted old heater, Hawkeye tossed his luggage down on an empty cot beside the door and huffed loudly. "Well, this just isn't going to do."

Flopping down on his own army issued cot, Trapper raised an eyebrow. "What isn't going to do?"

"I demanded a room with a seaside view." Knowing that he was getting a grin from the man still wearing stilettos, Hawkeye ran his finger across one of the shelves beside his bed and groaned in annoyance. "They couldn't even leave the dust on the shelves. That's it. This is the last time I stay with the Army. Next time I travel, I travel Navy."

Chuckling at the absurdity of it all, Trapper glanced up at his new bunk mate and grinned in a way that made most women swoon. "You're all right Hawkeye."

Grinning back, Hawkeye sashayed his way across the tent and sat down beside the blonde; placing his arm around his bare shoulders with gentleness that he only used on the girls. "You're not so bad yourself," he leered, his voice as deep as it could possibly go. "What do you say me and you forget the kiddies and go down to the five and dine?"

Unable to take it any longer, Trapper let loose a howl of laughter, his stomach ready to burst at the seam. Watching as the taller man doubled over in hysterics, Hawkeye tried valiantly to keep his own amusement inside, but failed miserably. Rolling around on the floor with tears in his eyes, whilst his new friend did the same; only on the cot, Trapper was the first to notice that they were no longer alone. Attempting to sit up, but failing dismally, Hazel eyes glanced up at the Major framed by the wooden doorway and panted heavily. "What's up Frank?" he gasped, his lungs still fighting for air as his body shivered from the leftover giggles.

Staring down at the two fully grown men, Frank twisted his fingers in his hands; a sure sign of nervousness and alarm. "I live here too McIntyre," he snapped once his mind finally connected to his mouth. "And I came to see if Captain Peirce would like to join Major Houlihan and myself at the Mess tent."

Wiping away the tears leaking from his eyes, Hawkeye finally pulled himself together and sat up on the cot properly once more. "Thanks, but no thanks Frank, I'm trying to savour the last memories of normal food before I find out just what the Army provides."

"That is a wise decision," Trapper agreed, still lying on the floor. "I wish I had thought of that before I ate here. I think the coffee alone killed my taste buds."

Sneering down at the Captain, Frank opened his lipless mouth to more than likely degrade the blonde, when Hawkeye caught glance of said person, and started laughing all over again.

Not sure what had set the brunette off this time, but really coming to like the addictive laughter that he held, Trapper crossed his arms behind his head, and eyed the man in amusement. "What's gotten into you?"

Heaving for breath, Hawkeye peeked down at the man on the floor once more, and started up all over again.

"Do you think he's all there?" Frank whispered loudly, eyeing the lanky Captain as if he was going to get up and charge at him should he be any louder.

Shrugging, Trapper removed an arm from behind his head, and used it to wack the doctor on the knee. "Oi, Hawk! You with us?"

Gulping loudly, bright blue eyes sparkled in merriment as he finally calmed down enough to talk somewhat coherently. "I knew that you were a flirt," he gasped, giggles still escaping from him even as he spoke. "But I didn't think that you were going to be that easy."

Not sure what he was talking about, Trapper glanced down at himself, and almost felt like blushing all over. During his brief hysteria, the rolling on the ground had forced the little black dress to ride up, revealing his milky white thighs and army issued boxers. Seeing the amusement in the situation and listening as the brunette started up all over again, Trapper let out a couple of chuckles himself, and glanced up towards the surprisingly silent Major still standing at the door.

Gaping down at the blonde, Frank felt his eyes bulge and jaw drop. How he had missed the man's state of undress he would never know, but as he stood there like a statue watching the sins of others, the Major knew that there was no hope for either of the new surgeons. This was a Man's Army, and these two degenerates were defiantly not men. Snapping out of his revere as Peirce let out a rather loud giggle, Frank ignored the feeling of his face burning in embarrassment, and quickly hastened his exit. Just wait until he told Margaret about this!

Peeling his eyelids open just enough to watch the Major leave, Hawkeye took a deep breath and forced himself to calm down. Glancing down at the taller man still chuckling, blue eyes sparkled in a way that the East-coaster thought that they never would again after seeing the miserable draftee letter. "I suppose we should go and get some food," he muttered after a moment, his stomach finally reminding him that he hadn't eaten since he had left Tokyo.

Nodding in agreement, Trapper forced himself into a sitting position and glanced down at the dress currently hugging his midsection. "Mind if I change first? I suddenly feel rather exposed for some strange reason."

Taking in the ruffled appearance and cocky grin, Hawkeye could barely hold back a snort before his giggles started up once more.

"I'm telling you Sir, McIntyre will bring this whole establishment down; and from what I saw in that tent, Peirce won't be much better."

Stabbing a hunk of cooked meat that had the texture and taste of tree bark, Henry frowned down at his meal for a moment, before glancing back up at the two Majors sitting beside him and mentally sighing. "What do you want me to do about it Frank? We need every available man we can get, and if that means putting up with a couple of regulars, than you can bet your nanny that that's what we're going to do."

Whimpering, Frank turned to the blonde sitting beside him for help, but found that her attention was focused elsewhere. "Margaret?"

Motioning for the brunette to be quiet, Margaret motioned towards the door. "Here they come."

Trying to not be obvious; but failing wonderfully, the trio watched as one as the two Captains sauntered into the Mess tent, capturing the attention of everyone there. Gesturing for the new comer to step in first, Trapper guided him over to the serving station and shoved a tray into his hands.

"As you can see, we have all the delicacies." The blonde's light hearted tone could be heard saying. "Left over surplus from previous wars, salted meat from animals that lived before we did, and heated mud making itself out to be coffee but not really fooling anybody."

Holding their breaths, the crowd listened on in suspense. It was one of the many tests that each newbie went through, and depending on how the new Captain would react to not just the food, but the flippant way Trapper had spoken, would tell the rest of the unit what type of Officer he would be.

Lifting the tray that now held a green mush that was supposedly strained beans to his nose, Hawkeye took a quick sniff and gagged violently. "That is worse than my cousin's growing sock collection," he scoffed loudly, lowering the tray away from his face as far as he could. "I've smelt dumpsters in Boston that were better than that."

Shrugging, Trapper placed a filled mug on the brunette's tray, before grabbing one for himself. "Get used to it Hawk. This is what you've got to look forward to until you leave."

Unable to force his nose back into its wrinkleless state, Hawkeye started down at the food, and gagged once more. "If this is what they're spending all our tax dollars on, then I want a refund. Better yet, anyone that comes to me with food poisoning, I'll happily send home with a note to the morons in the Whitehouse."

Shaking his head, Trapper had a funny feeling that the man beside him was not joking, but felt that it was pointless to point out that the Army would only send the poor person back with their own note saying 'Suck it up and get back to work'. Glancing around the tent at all the interested people staring at them, the blonde knew that there was no way that he could keep his new source of entertainment to himself for the entire war, but felt that he shouldn't have to share so soon after finding it. Opening his mouth to suggest that maybe they should eat outside seeing as it was rather crowed in the tent, the Captain was blocked when the shrill tones of Margaret Houlihan rang through the air, inviting them over.

Glancing at the blonde at his side, Hawkeye made a face as if to say 'Damn, and there goes the rest of my appetite', before slinking his way over to the bench; Trapper following a step behind.

Sitting down the trays on the table, Hawkeye and Trapper sat down across from the two Majors and forced themselves to not look at the grinning pair.

"I hope that you've settled in nicely. It's so nice to have another Doctor on staff," Margaret gushed, her cheeks tinged with pink as she eyed the strapping young doctor across from her. "Tell us about yourself Captain. Where did you study?"

Chocking down the piece of meat that threatened to lodge itself in his throat, Hawkeye took a large gulp of the most vile drink he had ever had. If the war didn't kill him, then the food was defiantly going to give it a shot. Shrugging at the question, Hawkeye stabbed a potato in thought. "I studied and did my residency in Boston. I specialize in cardiovascular, but my dad was a GP and before that a neuro, so I've got a rather broad teaching."

"That is fascinating," Margaret smiled, showing off every one of her bright white teeth. Rolling his eyes at the display, Trapper loaded his fork with some meat and shoved it in his mouth before snarking. "You might want to find out if he's attached before you dig your claws in any further Houlihan."

Snapping around to glare at the blonde, Margaret pursed her lips, but was halted in any tongue lashing when the brunette across from her chocked on his food once more.

"Attached?" Wheezing for air, Hawkeye began to wonder if his face was red from lack of air, or the hilarity of the conversation. "The closest I've ever come to being attached to anything, was when I super-glued myself to the spare tyre of my bike. My last girlfriend said that I was more attached to my medical journal than I was her! My own dog was more distraught over my dad going away for a weekend than me leaving home for good."

Grinning in amusement, Trapper glanced over at the slightly shorter man, and snorted. To everyone else at the table, it looked like the brunette was being serious, but Trapper knew better. He had seen the spark in the man's eyes many times before in the mirror. It was much easier to joke around and make everyone question your sanity, than it was to confront said sanity and see just where you measured up.

Sending his own glance towards the curly haired man on his right, Hawkeye gave him a barely there wink, before continuing on with his theatrics. He knew that Trapper would see him for what he really was, and for the first time since his mother had died, the lanky built doctor was ok with that.

"So, what does Hawkeye stand for?" Henry butted in, cutting off the Captain's tirade as he attempted to explain just how unattached he was. "It wasn't in your file, so I'm assuming that it's not part of your real name."

Pointing his fork at the OC, Hawkeye eyed the man in a way that at first glance looked menacing, but once you caught sight of the cheeky smirk, realised that the man was merely joking around. "Hawkeye is my name more so than any other; except Pierce. My dad has only read one book his entire life, and that was his favourite character."

"Last of the Mohicans," Trapper nodded, placing his cutlery on his tray as he finished his last bite. "Not a bad read, but I prefer something more recent; preferably with Betty Grable or Marilyn Monroe in the starring role."

Scandalised by such talk; and in front of a woman at that, Frank blubbered around thinking of what to say, but stopped when the sound of choppers hit their ears. Glancing over at their new Chief Surgeon, Frank felt the cogs in his head turn slowly. If he could prove how inexperienced Pierce was, then maybe he could get his title back. All he would have to do was show the Col how inexperienced the Captain was, maybe even come in and save a patient, and the position would be as good as his. Grinning at the thought, beady little eyes turned to the brunette rushing out the door behind the rest of the group, and sniggered gleefully.

Yes, he would get his rightful title back, and the respect that deserved.

Just you wait and see.

Daniel Pierce was a fine doctor and brilliant surgeon. His colleges would often refer to him like a coach would their star player. In his prime, he would do the impossible and save the patients that many had already dismissed as incurable, before moving on and doing it all over again. It was a powerful gift that he had never squandered or left to waste, and as his son grew and displayed his own abilities to harness the same gift, Daniel did everything in his power to help his child along.

Pressing down on a blood soaked cloth covering a badly severed artery, Hawkeye glanced around the compound for any morgue men available, when he caught sight of the chaos that was the 4077th. When he had been assigned the unit, the brunette knew that they were only just formed, and most had no idea of what was going on, but this was ridiculous! Nurses ran around like headless chooks, checking wounds that were superficial compared to half the others. Morgue men stood around with rolls of bandages in their arms, unsure of what they were suppose to do let alone where to stand. Trapper was in a similar position as him, trying get help but at the same time unable to move lest the wound he was holding leaked any further. Margaret was yelling at everyone, but seemed to be doing nothing helpful, whilst Frank stood beside her nodding as if he were the one speaking. Knowing that Henry was with Radar trying to get in contact with I-core to find out what was going on, Hawkeye decided quickly that they were going to get nowhere soon and lose a lot of people if they didn't do something fast.

Latching onto the closest person to him, Hawkeye dragged the startled nurse onto the ground with him, and forced her into position so that her hand was securely over the wound. "Whatever you do, don't move," he grounded out, staring at the shocked woman until he got a nod in return.

Wiping as much blood off his hands as he could, Hawkeye stood quickly and let loose a high pitched whistle. Startled by the sound, the group turned as one and faced the brunette. Making sure that he had everyone's attention, Hawkeye raised his hand and pointed at Margaret. "Houlihan! Get your nurses into gear. I want the OR set up and ready to go in five minutes. Frank go scrub up and get ready, I need someone to take over from Trapper over there; Trap you stay out here and help me figure out who's got what. I want this one here on my table first, that one there on Trap's. Someone get Blake and tell him I want him in Pre-Op now! Anyone standing around with bandages go put them away and come back. We have a lot of wounded, and I don't want them out here in the dust any longer than they have to be."

The stillness of the camp was not what he wanted to see. Feeling the frustration of their incompetence overwhelm him, Hawkeye stared at the idiots gaping at him, and roared. "Now People!"

Jumping, Margaret was one of the first to jolt out of it, and head off to do what the Captain had ordered. "You three stay out here and assist Pierce and McIntyre, the rest of you are in the OR."

Sidestepping the patents, the Morgue men followed the nurses into the building to put away the supplies, before coming back out and starting the movement of the patients into the Pre-Op. Making sure that everyone was doing as told, Pierce glanced down at the slightly pale nurse still holding onto the patient's leg, and sighed. Why did he have a funny feeling that he was going to end up with at least one fainter by the end of the day?

Showing the draftee how to hold the wound before moving on, Trapper made his way over to the next injured man, and was slightly surprised to see the man was mostly coherent. The unit had been in the trenches when a series of grenades had been tossed in with them, and from what he had seen so far, the blonde hadn't been expecting anyone to really be on this plane of consciousness. "They," he grinned, hoping to set the soldier's mind at ease. "Looks like you've been having fun."

Attempting to laugh, but coughing half way through, the solider stared up at the blonde with big brown eyes and twitched the corners of his mouth. "Oh real fun. I was getting worried that you lot might have been too, considering how you were taking your time."

Lifting the badly wrapped gaze to check the wound under it, Trapper felt like snapping back but thought better of it.

"Well not you," the soldier continued, still staring up at the doctor as he did so. "But that other doctor that was standing over there, he walked past me three times and didn't even look down."

Chuckling darkly, Trapper placed the gauze back into position and patted the soldier on the shoulder. "Well, that's Frank for you. You're going to be fine, just be on liquids for the next week or so."

Catching the lips stretch even wider at the news, Trapper was just about to move on, when a firm a hand landing on his stopped him.

"You have a good CO," Brown eyes muttered, the day draining his energy. "To be able to get everyone back into position that quickly? That shows true leadership."

Raising an eyebrow, Trapper glanced across the small area they were in, and caught sight of the lanky brunette kneeling in the dirt to get a better look at a soldier's wound. "Who, Hawk? Nah, he's not our CO."

Showing his confusion, the soldier waited for an explanation.

"He's the new guy."

"Scalpel."

Eyeing the latest wound; shrapnel to the chest, Hawkeye took the instrument in hand and very carefully made his way into the faceless man's chest. They were four hours in, and he was up to his third patient. After stopping the bleeding and getting the artery closed back up, his first patient had been deemed in the clear, and moved aside for a younger man with shrapnel scattered through his lower torso and left lung.

"How are you going over there Hawk?"

Glancing up at the worried looking blonde, Hawkeye smiled at the concern, before turning his attention back to the patient and the forceps currently digging around inside his chest. "I feel like I should change my profession to seamstress. My talents are being highly unappreciated here."

Chuckling, Trapper pulled a needle through his latest patient and set to putting the soldier back together. "I know what you mean. Mind you, this is the first time I've had to really utilise them since I arrived."

Startled by the latest information, Pierce chucked a hunk of fragment into a kidney dish before glancing over at his fellow doctor. "You mean to tell me that this is the first lot of wounded this unit's seen? Oh, that would explain everything!"

Not sure if he should be insulted by the brunette's words, Frank glanced up from his table and frowned. "It is not. We've had plenty wounded come in since we set up camp."

Rolling his eyes, Trapper pulled his gloves off and motioned for the Morgue men to get him a new patient. "Scratches and boo-boos are not wounded Frank. The worst we've had in here before today, was a farmer that chopped his toe off with a shovel, and you know it."

Digging his way through a rather difficult spot to make sure that all the metal was found, Hawkeye sighed deeply. "So what you're saying," he huffed, his eyes sharpening as they caught sight of a rather tiny piece lodged between a rib and the diaphragm. "Is that you've had all this time to work out a system, and order if you will, and that display I caught outside was the best you could come up with?"

"We know what we're doing Captain," Margaret snapped back, displeased with both the way the newest surgeon was acting, and the way the unit had performed outside. "Everyone in this room has had medical training, some just as much as you."

Thinking back to the songs and games his Dad taught him when he was little, Hawkeye shook his head in amusement. "I highly doubt that Major."

Knowing that this was going to get ugly very quickly, Trapper did a quick check to make sure that his patient wasn't going anywhere, and glanced up to watch the show.

Bristling at the suggestion, Frank ignored the wound he was suppose to be checking, and glared up at the taller man. "I'll have you know, Pierce, that I am just as qualified, if not more so, than yourself. Why they made you Chief Surgeon I'll have no idea."

Finishing the last stitch, Hawkeye cut the thread before motioning for the man to be taken away and turning around to face the two rather offended Majors. "Ok, I'll admit that I don't know what your qualifications are, but you sure as hell don't know mine. Now if you want to have it out later, then fine; but as long as I'm Chief Surgeon, I will not have some petty argument take precedence over a person's life."

The silence in the room was very much like the silence that had fallen outside. Ignoring the gapping faces and shocked nurses, Hawkeye snapped off his gloves and turned to face his next patient, only to find the table clear. "Where's my patient?"

Standing at the door with a mask over his mouth and a clipboard in his hand, Radar swallowed loudly before answering. "That's it Sir. You finished the last one."

Not sure if he should be grateful or not, Hawkeye ripped his bloody gown off and headed towards the door. "If anyone needs me, I'll be in the Mess tent."

It had been two hours since he had stormed out of the OR, and Pierce was starting to wonder if the Major idiots were going to come after him at all. Quickly becoming used to the taste of the overly bitter coffee, the brunette lifted the mug to his lips and took a gulp just in time to see the wonderful parade come barrelling through the doors.

"There he is Col," Houlihan's sharp tone rang out.

"Thank you Major, I can see that," Henry sighed, clearly feeling the beginnings of a headache set in.

Watching as the small group that consisted of the fisherman, the tweedles, a hobbit and Trapper came closer, Hawkeye briefly mused over the possibility of him escaping before they got any closer, but knew that it was fruitless. "Is this the part that I surrender? Cause I gotta warn you that I'm a horrible prisoner. I whine a lot, talk back to my captors, and will try and escape at every chance."

Grinning broadly, Trapper continued past the group and sat himself down beside the brunette. "That was some first rate cutting back there. I don't think I seen anything like it in years."

Lifting his mug in thanks, Hawkeye sculled the last of the drink. "What can I say? I have a gift."

"You can sure say that again." Sitting down at the head of the table, Henry stared at the newest member and grinned widely. "The way you organised everyone, and got through that leg wound so quickly-"

Sitting down on the opposite side of the table, Margaret and Frank glared at their would-be CO. "He completely disregarded any chain of authority," the Head nurse bellowed, causing many of the people in the tent to wince in pain. "He spoke out of line to a commanding officer, and he challenged a fellow surgeon in the OR."

Folding his arms across his chest, Trapper used them to prop himself up against the table, and frowned at the blonde headed woman. "I don't know what room you were in, but I didn't see anyone challenging anything in there."

"That's a lie, McIntyre, and you know it."

"Ok, hold up a second." Holding his hands up as a sign for them to all calm down, Henry waited until the two hot-blooded blondes simmered down, before glancing across to Pierce, and sighing. "What happened in today?"

Wishing that he could grab another cup of coffee and go back to his tent, Hawkeye glanced up at the Col with his bright blue eyes, and felt every emotion he had pushed aside during the day barrel forth until he could no longer hold it in. "What happened today?" he quipped, his hands stretching out on the table like spiders waiting to pounce. "You want to know what happed today? I walked into this camp thinking that there were at least some brain cells in this god forsaken hellhole, but clearly I was wrong."

Not liking the Captain's tone, Henry opened his mouth to tell him to calm down, but was cut off when the brunette held up his hand to shush him and continued.

"There were wounded lying around in the dirt and grime for far too long, while half of the camp ran around doing useless tasks and the other just stood there. You were nowhere to be found, the army brats were barking out orders that even the cook would know were useless, and the nurses were too busy checking for bumps and scrapes to be of any use. Trapper was the only one actually doing something useful, and he was pinned down holding a bleeder because everyone else couldn't be bothered to stop and relieve him."

"I was on the phone to I-core," Henry ground out, not at all liking the picture that was being painted for him. By the time he had reached the Pre-Op, the patients were already inside, and everything seemed to be running smoothly. "Every time we receive wounded, my orders are to phone it in-"

"And that's a great idea," Hawkeye stated, his words dripping with sarcasm. "From now on, every time we get wounded, you make that phone call, and then make another right after to explain to a soldier's mother that you couldn't get to her son in time, because you had to follow orders."

Glancing around at the small group around him, Hawkeye placed his hands on the table once more, and took a deep breath. "I don't care what the Army or the Government is calling this, we are in the middle of a war zone and as medical practitioners, it's our job to put those kids back together again, not to jump at every mindboggling command."

Mentally cheering at the lanky waif as he talked down not just Henry, but Margaret and Frank as well, Trapper nudged the brunette with his shoulder to get his attention, and grinned. "What do you suggest we do Hawk?"

Catching the hazel eyes dancing merrily, Hawkeye smirked in return. "Well first, we grab more coffee. Then we get to work."