A/N: A little more BJ in this chapter…
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" 'No uniforms required'," BJ read aloud from a piece of neatly folded paper he'd been presented by the jolly company. "Thanks, Colonel, we really appreciate it. And thank you, guys, you're the best friends ever."
"Nah, we're just a bunch of losers who like to hang out around you," Hawkeye replied, swapping his best mate playfully on the shoulder. "Be sure you're in top shape tonight; there are plenty of girls who'd love to dance with the birthday boy."
"Yeah," BJ's voice trailed off, "I bet there are—"
Hawkeye didn't have to follow his gaze to know who BJ was looking at. "Sorry to say that, Beej, but you really got it bad," he said as soon as the company went back to do their jobs.
"I know," the other surgeon sighed, running his hand through his hair. "I need to do something about it. This… this just isn't right."
"Couldn't have put it better myself."
"Hawk, I am well aware of the repercussions. And I do love my wife more than I can tell. It's just – when I look at her – the whole world could cease to exist and I wouldn't have noticed."
"Yeah, I know the drill."
BJ eyed Hawkeye sympathetically and nudged him on the side. "Care to take a walk?"
"Sure. Guess there'll be no unexpected visitors arriving today."
"Let's hope so. I'd rather not spend my party at the blood-stained table, dressed in an elegant set of scrubs."
Dragging their feet away from the compound with no designated destination whatsoever, they finally reached the choppers landing and sat on a pile of wood, hands in their pockets, a grim and heavy silence surrounding them. Hawkeye was the first one to break it.
"I asked her. Yesterday."
"And?" BJ asked, genuinely interested. Hawkeye shrugged.
"Guess my timing could have been better."
"She said no?"
"She yelled at me. I left before she got to the end of it."
"So she didn't actually answer your question?"
"What kind of an answer would you possibly expect after a tirade like that?"
"I still think you should try talking to her."
"Nah, I'll just go alone. Maybe we'll bump into each other some time during the party."
"Which isn't exactly what you were aiming for, is it?"
Hawkeye shook his head. "I was hoping I'd get a chance to talk to her. She's been uneasy recently, and I know part of it is about Ali – I just can't help the fact I'm acting around her the way I am. Most of the people would probably get an impression that there's something going on between us, but that's an old story, and I do not expect it to ever happen again."
"You mean—" BJ swallowed hard "—that the two of you were actually playing doctor at some point of your acquaintance?"
Hawkeye nodded indifferently. "Once, maybe twice, when we were still in high school. It seemed like a good idea at the moment. Everybody's been doing this, and since we trusted each other, we figured out… Well, obviously it takes more than an old, strong friendship to create some sparkles. We never discussed it again, and this chapter is definitely closed. Still," he gave BJ a lop-sided smile, "once you've done it with someone, some barriers are down, and you start interacting in a very… comfortable way. I don't mind Ali touching me, I have no trouble whatsoever with touching her, because I know it ain't going any further. Ali was always there for me when I needed a friend, back on the state side. She's a sister I never had. Somebody who would drink hard with you, hug you, yell at you, but never become your love interest. On the other hand, Margaret has become one of my best friends around here. She drove me crazy, she made me discover some things about myself I wasn't even aware of, and in some way… she helped me become a better person. I don't want all of this to go kaboom because of some misunderstandings." He sighed and smiled weakly. "And right now, I'm not sure I could accept being only a friend of hers."
BJ smiled and took a long, knowing look at his pal. "She really got you smitten."
"She did."
"How did this happen? I mean, I know you two have a… history, but why now? Why not after you got lost and, let me quote your own expression, 'turned to each other'?"
"I have no idea. It doesn't even sound logical. Why should a thing like this happen now, when we had so much time together before Major H. decided to hate me because I happen to be good friends with one woman she can't stand?"
"This is one of the questions I will not answer unless given an appropriate amount of alcohol to stimulate my brain cells."
"Before you proceed to stimulating anything at all, let me ask you about something—"
"I am not in love with her, Hawkeye."
"—Or rather you tell me what's troubling you."
BJ smiled sadly and banged his fist against the log. "The reasonable part of me knows this is nothing more than an infatuation. The emotional part refuses to listen to those arguments. I feel like I've been missing something for a long time, and now I found it. I don't want to let it go – but then I think about Peg, and Erin, and it breaks my heart to realize I'm hurting them, even if they know nothing about it."
Hawkeye remained silent for a long while, gazing off into space and biting his lower lip, until it started to swell. "War is a rotten thing, Beej. It destroys everything in sight, and gives nothing back." He squeezed the other man's shoulder reassuringly, and smiled at him. "Ali is a smart girl, BJ. She will never allow anything to happen if it could threaten your family."
"What if I want something to happen?" BJ blurt out, and covered his face in his hands. "I know I'd go crazy, and regret it the moment it did, maybe even hate Alicia, but – there are those moments when everything stops, and I just want to dive in. No thoughts of tomorrow. No regrets."
"You have to think about the future, BJ. The war's going to be over one day. Ali might be shipped out even before it ends. What are you going to do then?"
BJ waved away his words and frowned. "I know, Hawkeye, I've been down this road again and again. I asked myself all the questions. I'm just still not sure about the answers."
"I hope you will be, Beej. The sooner the better."
"And I hope you get to talk to Margaret. The sooner the better."
Without more ado, the two friends stood up and strolled back to the camp, feeling strangely relieved, but burdened with unpleasant thoughts all the same.
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The dress was perfect. Knee-length, short-sleeved, cobalt-blue, with a matching belt – something that Margaret got sent from Tokyo just a week ago. She spent the better part of the afternoon trying on some hairstyles to go with it, but in the end she decided to simply pin her hair up and tie it with a blue ribbon she found on the bottom of her drawer. Silently thanking the Divine Powers for the loneliness provided by the nurses, who invited Alicia 'over to their tent, to share some make-up stuff and so on', she sat down in front of her mirror and carefully applied some light-blue eye-shadow on her eyelids.
They asked her to join them, too, but she could feel the forced politeness behind the question and told them she still had some paperwork to do before the party. They probably saw through the excuse, but at least they did not insist. Margaret hated insistent people.
Even though some people should know better than to give up on a case so soon, especially since no answers had been given to certain questions—
Oh please, not that again! She scolded herself mentally as she proceeded with the mascara and some lipstick, just a touch to bring out the shape of her lips. Hotlips' hot-lips. Funny, she never thought her lips were hot. Kissable, yes, that might have been the right word – but 'hot'? Honestly.
She paused, her fingertips touching her lips, and looked her reflection in the eye.
It's been a while since she was kissed.
And an even longer one since she actually craved to be.
Because that was how she was feeling right now, and there was no point denying it. She desperately wanted to be kissed – and by one man only.
Maybe she could still work it out? Talk to him, tell him how sorry she was for the way she reacted… Maybe the evening wasn't totally lost?
Thinking positive was the key, she said to herself and smiled at the woman reflected in the mirror. She looked nice, and she wanted this to be a nice evening. To have fun with nice people.
The mood was still on when she opened the door. She lost it a second later.
Her again!
Margaret took in Alicia's dress, or rather a masterpiece than was actually a skillfully sewn plum-purple silk, kept over her shoulders with small clasps and falling down to her knees in a soft, rippling skirt. The dress wasn't tight, and yet the silk seemed to caress her owner's body, together with the eyes of over ninety-percent of male personnel present.
Including Hawkeye Pierce, who was sitting on a bar stool, hosting a glass of bourbon in one hand, and eyeing Alicia approvingly. On her other side, BJ stood with a drink of his own, all his attention fixed on Captain Brown.
She was also focusing on him, and him alone, Margaret noticed with a shiver. This couldn't be good.
"Ah, Major," she heard Charles' unmistakable accent next to herself and raised her eyes to meet his, sparkling with approval and longing. He looked surprisingly handsome in a black shirt and slacks, glass of red wine in his hand. "Care to join me for a drink?"
"With pleasure," Margaret answered, feeling herself pull up a smile of the being-saved-for-special-occasions-only kind. Charles placed a hand on her shoulder and gently guided her towards an empty table on the other side of the room, gesturing to Igor for another glass of wine in the process. Margaret sat down and crossed her legs, part of her mind knowing all too well her dress and heels accentuated her calves in a particularly flattering way. Charles must have noticed it, too, for he complimented on her looks right away. She thanked him, running her fingers down her neck in a mock gesture of abashment. Potter came into the bar and walked straight to them, grinning at her approvingly.
"Margaret, you look damn great tonight," he complimented, touching her arm briefly before he sat down."
"Thank you, Colonel," she replied, taking in his immaculately white shirt. "You look quite handsome yourself."
"Stop it, Major, or I might say something Mrs. P. might disapprove of. Would you honor me with a dance later?"
"I didn't know you could dance, sir."
"Oh, I've been quite a mover back in the old days. We shall see if there's anything of it left in the old bones. If you're not afraid, that is."
"Not at all. Gladly, sir."
"Good. Now, have you wished BJ already? I was planning to go over to him right now."
"I'll join you," Margaret offered with a smile and stood up, taking her wine with her. Charles chose to stay where he was, apparently not too happy to lose the blonde Major's company all too soon. The pair made their way across the crowded floor, before they finally came to stand right next to the trio hoisted on the bar. Margaret could feel Hawkeye's eyes on herself, but deliberately focused her attention on BJ only.
"Once again, happy birthday, son," Potter said, shaking his hand, before he moved away allowing Margaret to kiss the surgeon. "You look gorgeous, Major," he said, smiling at her with his arms still around her. "Somebody might have thought you have a date tonight."
He knows Pierce came to me yesterday, she thought, and smiled sweetly. "Maybe I do."
He raised his eyebrows with an uneasy look in his eye. "You do?"
"Let me keep this to myself," she purred, and, with a sudden flash of idea, turned towards Charles, who'd been watching them from his table, and toasted him with her glass. He smiled at her and toasted back, before taking a sip of wine, his eyes fixed on her. Margaret blushed innocently and averted her gaze, heart pounding loudly in her chest.
Oh God, what am I doing?!
"I still hope I get to dance with you tonight, though," she said to BJ cheerfully after she regained her composure. He smiled and nodded, but she could say he didn't approve of what he saw. Well, she didn't approve of what Alicia seemed to be doing to him, which made them square. At least for now.
Somebody put a record on; the rhythm was moving, swinging, Cuban, or maybe Spanish. There was a movement by Margaret's side, and she witnessed, with her jaw almost dropping to the floor, as Hawkeye took Alicia's hand and led her to the dance floor. She whispered something to him, and he laughed heartily, before dipping her and bringing her back up to a series of turns. They danced together very well, keeping a natural rhythm of their movements, without really watching each other's faces.
As if they were meant for each other, Margaret thought and looked up at BJ. He kept his eyes on the pair, his fingers clutching the rant of the bar. She put a hand on his forearm in silent comfort, and he moved it to take her hand in his and squeeze it in a 'thank you'.
"They are just friends, Margaret. Great, close friends."
"Sometimes friends grow to be something more than that," she responded, looking down to the floor.
"True. But let me tell you – Hawkeye wouldn't like his friendship with Ali to grow into something more."
Her head shot up as she eyed him carefully, looking for a hidden meaning behind his words. Beside them Potter was faking a complete disinterest.
"It's your word against what I've been seeing for the last couple of weeks," she said gently, and slipped her hand out of his as she made her way back over to Charles. He greeted her with a smile, and ordered another round of wine. Margaret sipped it gratefully and leaned against the back of the chair, half-listening to him chatter on some insignificant matter.
This was going to be a long evening.
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A/N: So, in our next chapter we shall go back to the party, and see how the evening unfolds… Who knows what's going to happen? ;)