Author's Note: To all the MASH fandom-ers: I've only been with this fandom for a few months, but it's really great to see it picking up. I've noticed a lot of new stories, especially one-shots, which are always lovely, being published. I've also noticed this fandom takes care of its own. No matter the description or pairing, authors always support their fellow writers by leaving reviews and advice. And it's really great coming into a new fandom and seeing the caring nature of its authors. You just know this is a great community of people. It definitely encourages and inflames my work-efficiency and out-put. So thank you, MASH lovers. You're awesome!
Back to the story; as you can see this is a pt. 1 of 2 chapter. I only did this to cut the day (time-period in the ch.) in half when the chapter is exceeding a certain length. I thought the original chapter was way too long, so I simply cut it in two. Another note, just remember it's winter and everyone is bundled up and another thing, Mary Baker is young, about 20-22 age range. Just keep that in mind. Right, so with those few notes said, please continue with the story, enjoy.
The Forbidden Fruit
FLASH FORWARD
"What are you doing?" she giggled, her body squirming underneath his hovering body, his hands and knees planted into the bed, his lips trailing soft, tender kisses down her body. He didn't reply, but rather continue to kiss his way down her stomach. The air in her lungs caught in her throat and held there as he began kissing the sensitive skin around her hip. She buckled her hips away from his lips, the teasing pleasure suddenly too much, but he steadied her squirming body back into his control, placing two firm palms on her hips. She arched them into his warm embrace, her fingers entangling his blonde and graying locks of hair, lightly clenching them between her fingers in the fit of pure ecstasy.
"Please," she moaned, her head driven deep into her pillow, her eyes in the back of her head.
He moved back up to her face and kissed her chin. "I want to know every inch of your body." He kissed her nose, then both of her cheeks, and her eyelids, even the corners of her eyes. He clenched both her hands in his, and placed a thousand tender kisses on them.
"This is surely going to be a long night."
She giggled as he beginning lightly nibbling her throat with his teeth, knowing full well she was very ticklish there.
The Forbidden Fruit
Lieutenant Mary Baker, opening her eyes, flinched violently against the light. She was quick to shut her eyes, her face screwed up in tight wrinkles around her eyes and forehead. A few moments later she open her eyes again, however more slowly, very aware of the blinding light this time.
She heard a playfully chuckle and turned towards the voice. She found a man sitting in a chair besides her, holding an empty tray, however when he saw her looking at him, he smiled and set the tray beside the cot. She realized it was the chaplain of the 4077th, seeing the cross dangle from his neck and the white-collar around his throat, and immediately sat up, pushing her back into the wall behind her, suppressing a shy smile.
"Good morning," he said in a cheery voice, still lightly chuckling having watched her spasmining reaction to his presence. "I trust you slept well."
When Mary scrunched her brows together, confused, he added with a gesture of his hand about his head, looking above her own.
"Oh," she gasped loudly, embarrassed, and brought her hands to her hair, flattening and smoothing her snarly brown curls, a blush creeping down her cheeks. "Oh, my, I must look absolutely dreadful."
"None what so ever" he said, relaxing deeper into his chair, and crossed one leg over the other, his hands finding their natural place balled-up in his lap. "And it's good to see you feeling better . . . and to see your cheeks return to their natural color."
"Thank you Father," she replied sheepishly, her eyes shifting shyly away from the priest's merry confident ones.
"I prayed for you to make a speedy and healthy recovery, and here you sit now. After two days of rest, you very much seem well rested and quite lively."
"Yes, thank you so much, Father." She was smiling, blushing profusely at the kind priest, still too bashful to look him directly into his eyes. He was very handsome, she shamefully admitted, but she couldn't help noticing his enticing and friendly smile. "Has the storm finally blown over?"
"Just this morning, and thank heaven's for it. It looks much like a winter wonderland outside."
Mary blushed even harder. The chaplain smiled, quiet aware of the effects he was having on her.
"Oh, who's that I see?—un-nestled from her bed?"
The smiling pair shifted their eyes to the incoming man.
"I didn't expect to see a smiling face so soon. I see there is a lot more than medicine at work here."
"Oh, bless you, B.J.," the father beamed, watching the man snatch a stool from another cot and place it on the other side of Mary's cot. Her cheeks redden profoundly as the two older men stared down at her.
"Hello, Lieutenant Baker, I'm Doctor B.J. Hunnicutt. And I believe you've already met Father—"
"Mulcahy. Father Mulcahy," he sang merrily, pushing his hand towards her. She smiled kindly and accepted his hand.
"Just our friendly neighborhood priest," B.J. added.
"I sure do appreciate the two of you taking such good care of me. I hope I haven't been too much of a burden. And I hope I can find way to repay your kindness."
Father Mulcahy was brimming with delight when he heard her speak such kind and genteel words. So modest hearted she is. The father was most definitely taken by her caring poise and speech. I think we'll get on very well together. He shook his head, and replied:
"Wouldn't dream of it. . . . " a sudden thought came to his mind and he paused thoughtfully, the corner of lips slowly peeking into a smile. "Mary. . . . I couldn't help but notice the cross around your neck, but would it be wrong of me to assume you're a church-goer?"
"Oh yes, Father. Every Sunday, mother, father, and brother and I go. We wouldn't miss Father Patrick's sermons for anything," she stated with glee, her eyes shifted over the father's head, remembering fond memories of home and church.
"Wonderful. Just wonderful," Father Mulcahy sang happily. "My pry, if you'll allow me."
"Anything father."
He smiled warmly at her open-mindedness, and finally asked,"Do you how to play the piano?"
Her face suddenly beamed with life and animation, "Well, sure I do. I've known how to play since I was a little girl. And played in Church and mini-concerts for the family."
"Excellent," he said clasping his hands together. "Would you mind sharing your talent and playing for me—ah, . . . at our Sunday services?"
"That is a wonderful idea. I'd love that very much."
"Well," said B.J. finally stepping into the conversation, and stood from the stool. "I can see Lt. Baker is well taken care of. I'll come back later to check your bandages and check up on you, okay?"
"Okay, thank you Doctor Hunnicutt."
"B.J."
"B.J." she repeated shyly, another wave of red creeping down her face as she watched him walk away. She bit her bottom lip and turned back to the chaplain, seeing him smile at her made her feel like she was back at home.
B.J had walked away from the chatty and smiling pair, smiling to himself about Father Mulcahy and his reactions and effects he had on the new nurse. They're going to be an interesting team.
"Hey, B.J., how's Lt. Baker?" Hawkeye asked as B.J. came up on him standing by the desk, having watched him come from her cot. B.J. looked momentarily at his friend before turning and looking at her and Father Mulcahy, finding the pair smiling and getting excited over something.
"Better than excepted. She has made the fastest recovery of hypothermia I'd ever saw."
Hawkeye glanced over B.J.'s shoulder spying Father Mulcahy smiling brightly like an excited school boy. "It seems like a lot more than medicine is on her side."
"Ya, that's what I said."
"Oh," he said frowning, having not said the clever remark first; an ongoing, silent battle between the two friends.
"I don't see private Rogers anywhere. Send him off to Tokyo General?"
"Ya, I didn't want to risk infection." He turned back to the smiling pair across the room. "The father seems quite smitten with our Lady Mary—"
"How is she," pressed the woman behind them, having only heard the name Mary.
Both Hawkeye and B.J. turned to find Margaret standing behind them, hands on hips, eyebrows raised.
B.J sighed tiredly, turning towards the major, realizing nothing but medical terms and numbers were going to pacify her, and replied, "Well from appearance she looks to be recovering fine, but I haven't checked her vitals or her bandages yet."
"Why not!? I need her to make the fastest recovery in history . . . her and that Lt. Ryan." Her lip had the faintest upper curl of contempt.
"Hmm . . . already finding something wrong with the lieutenant?" sang Hawkeye, having sang this tune many times before. He had the smuggest smirk on his face recalling what B.J. had told him about the incident she and Lt. Ryan had had.
"Oh blow it out your smoke pipe, Pierce."
"Ooo, I did strike a nerve," he sang, looking at B.J., who rolled his eyes.
"I haven't checked on her because she just woke-up, and she and Father Mulcahy seemed to be getting on pretty well together. God knows that man needs it—her, another religious nut, no offense intended. And especially as of lately. He hasn't seemed like him—"
"Oh, enough of Father Mulcahy," she said turning and looking towards the chatty pair. "If he needs to 'talk' to someone, he can talk to God."
"That's rather harsh, Margret," chided Hawkeye. "Making a man talk to himself, especially if he's going through something."
Margret rolled her eyes, ignoring Hawkeye. "Listen B.J. I need all my nurses fit and top-shape. I mean look at this room!" She made a gesture with her hands. "Its full of patients and not enough nurses!"
"And speaking of nurses. Where's the Lt. Ryan." he said, mocking Margret's tone.
They all turned towards the cot they had left the lieutenant in, and frowned as they discovered it empty.
"Where'd she go?"
"Oh, Father Mulcahy," shouted Margret walking towards him.
"Oh, so when it's convenient she wants to talk the father?" elbowed Hawkeye B.J. before they followed after her.
"Oh, father, have you seen the Lt. Ryan?"
Father Mulcahy had been in mid chuckle when the major shout at him, his mind still cloudy with excitement about Mary Baker. His eyebrows had come together, confused. "Who?"
"Amelia," she pressed harshly at the smiling chaplain.
"Oh," he said simply recognizing the name. "Oh!" he then said, recognizing the name and the events that came with it. "Of course, of course. ." His mind was still jumping around with his conversation with Mary and he really hadn't been paying too much attention to the major.
"Well, have you seen her!?"
"No I haven't."
His face suddenly became very solemn and perplexed, his eyes shifting sadly to the floor. He suddenly felt extremely guilty about forgetting about her. But his mind had been so set upon Mary, having seen her holding to a cross last night, that he had forgotten about everything else. Oh! How he felt so guilty now! How selfish he was to forget the other nurse.
"I'm sorry I can't be of more use, . . . but perhaps I can help you look for her."
The Forbidden Fruit
A jeep pulled along side the narrow road.
"You sure you should out here in your condition?"
Amelia ignored the MP and jumped down the hill, sliding on her feet and hands; the mangled jeep in the distance.
The Forbidden Fruit
"Colonel Potter I want her on report for this!"
Margaret Houlihan had discovered the whereabouts of Amelia and immediately went to the commander officer.
"Now Margret—"
"She has defied regulations, already breaking protocol. She did not ask my permission to leave the compound. Now colonel I know your pretty lax with these things, however I take my job very seriously . . . With her disorderly contact yesterday and her defiance with both me and Doctor's Hunnicutt's order of bed rest. . . she's adding up to be a bad apple. And you know from your experience as a commanding officer, one bad apple spoils the whole barrel."
The colonel sighed, taking his glasses off, momentarily rubbing his eyes. "Margaret, I already have too much on my plate as it is, however seeing as you're already emotional compromised—
"What?"
"I think it best if I ought to conduct Lt. Ryan's interview and evaluation."
"But colonel, she is my nurse!?"
"Margaret, I've already made-up my mind. And you know from your experience with me, I'm as stubborn as a mule. Now I am in agreement with you; Lt. Ryan's insolence of yesterday's incidence will not be tolerated again, however none of what has transpired between you and Lt. Ryan needs to go on report."
She scoffed about, hands on her hips, pacing the area in front of his desk. "Fine, but let the record show I'm against the lieutenant. And I'll be waiting to say 'i told you so' when she is proved to be incompetent."
Hawkeye, B.J., and Klinger had an ear pressed against the outer wall of the colonel's office, listening to the major's and colonel's conversation about Lt. Ryan when they suddenly jumped at the sound of a loud bang!
"Hello, boys, . . . aren't we curious, " sang the chaplain from behind him, his voice was thick with sarcasm and authority; the part authority he held to guilt people into acting with their better half.
"Uh? Oh, hello Father," Klinger stuttered, stumbling away from the wall. His attempts to mislead the father were see-through."We were, um, we, um, you see father, we were—"
"Curious," injected Hawkeye, rolling his eyes.
"Margret already has it in for our new nurse Lt. Ryan," B.J. said filling in the priest with the new gossip.
Father Mulcahy, taking a vigorous breath, shook his head, frustrated with the boys' behavior, however immediately forgave and forget—
"Poor Lt. Ryan, already she's in a heap of trouble with the major, and to think of what she's been through. . . ."
He was aware of moving gossip around the camp. She was popular with the men, however the women not so much. But the father immediately closed his ears when it came close enough for him to hear. However he would be lying if he said he wasn't curious.
"Say wha'd the lieutenant do to ruffle the major's feathers? anyway. I hear it was duesy," asked Klinger.
B.J. and Hawkeye exchanged glances between themselves, a smirk forming on both their faces.
"May I have the honors?" asked Hawkeye devilishly, a low chuckled sounding from his throat.
"All yours," B.J. replied.
"A woman after me heart." Hawkeye made a gesture with his hands against his heart." . . . Father you may what plug your ears."
"Surely what the lieutenant has done couldn't possible to be any worst than what I've heard. And I've heard quite a lot."
Hawkeye chuckled devilishly again, knowing full well it'd make the father blush, but if he insisted.
"Lieutenant Amelia Ryan," he began dramatically, "Told the major she was a nagging—"
"Bitch."
All four men jumped at the causal sounding voice behind them, especially the father considering his back was right in front of the entrance way from outside. They all turned, fining Amelia staring back at them.
She was looking pass the four men to the door that rang out screeches of her name. She turned to the man who she assumed was the company clerk, having meet the three other men, she said:
"I believe I have an appointment with the colonel and—" a loud screech of a woman sounded. "The major."
"Right," he said promptly and knocked on the colonel's door. He was met with groans and entered the office.
"Turning yourself in, huh? Never heard of that tactic before. How do you figure you're gettin' out of this one?" Hawkeye joked with her, with a very particular glint in his eye, however Amelia apparently wasn't in the mood. Her gazed dropped to the floor, her face blank and unreadable. She waited a few moments, standing beside the chaplain, for the company clerk to come back.
"Your death wish has been granted. You may go in; they've been excepting you."
Before she started into the office, her gaze shifted to the chaplain's, who had happen to catch her glance and stare back curiously. It was only for a moment as she broke her gaze and started into the office, and disappeared from his sight.
The chaplain surveyed the other men to see if they had seen the weird exchange between them, but he found that their ears were already pressed tightly against the wall, a part from Hawkeye, who appeared deep in thought. Most likely in scheme, thought the chaplain. .
"Did she seriously say that!?" whispered Klinger harshly.
"Heard it with my only ears."
"You're lying! There's no way the major would let her be walking around. . . . What'd the major do to her?"
"Potter saved her before Margaret could roll up her sleeves. Said it was from the accident, but boy Margaret wasn't fooled."
"Oh, my," finally spoke the stunned chaplain by the entry way.
"Still think, 'poor Lt. Ryan?'" interjected Hawkeye, coming out of his trance.
"What an awful thing to call the major. What on earth would posses someone to call someone else that!?" The chaplain was very puzzled in Amelia actions. He certainly couldn't hold her in the same esteem as he had.
"The major had said it was driver's fault for crashing, however Amelia thinks if Margaret hadn't called them into the storm into the first place, well . . ."
"What a strange and mysterious specimen . . . I think I require her to be put underneath a microscope and dissected."
"Hawkeyeee, you just met her," lightly chided the chaplain.
"No, no, no . . . geez father, get your head out of the gutter."
The chaplain rolled his eyes and shook his head lightly.
"I see a challenge a-foot. Misses Mysterious meet Mr. Curious. " His voice had that thickly clipped chuckle, very impish and dangerous.
Father Mulcahy rolled his eyes again, have seen this situation many times before.
The yelling arose from inside the office again and the trio pressed their ears to the door. However Father Mulcahy remained standing by the door, just listening to yelling at Lt. Ryan.
Hawkeye looked at the priest, his lips in a wicked smirk.
"Come on Father. You know you're tempted."
Hawkeye had that glint in his eye.
"Yes, that's what scares me."
"Ah, father," said a new voice, a head peeking its through the entry way behind him. "They're looking for you outside. We have Lt. Zoey Benson body."
The Forbidden Fruit
"Twice now Lt. Ryan has disrespected me and my authority. I will not stand of it, especially not from a smug, sarcastic one."
"Please have a seat lieutenant," he said over the crying rants of his head nurse, gesturing to the chair in front of his desk.
"I'd prefer to stand, thank you," Amelia replied modestly, declining his offer.
The colonel sighed and sat behind his desk; the woman stepping besides him, arms crossed and eyes narrowed.
"Margret, I think it'd be best if I conduct this interview alone."
She was billowing with angry, but forced a smile at the colonel and left. The colonel waited a few moments after the doors shut . . . .
"Don't you have anything better to do then spy on the colonel's conversations!?"
After hearing those last words from Margaret outside the door, the colonel turned to his attention to the woman standing in front of him.
"Why don't you go on and have a seat now," he said scuffling about a few papers on his desk. After a few moments to collect his thoughts, he began:
"Amelia I am going to give you the benefit of the doubt. Technically, you were suffering from a mild concession; the words you were spilling were probably a side-effect from it, however I rather doubt that considering you rebuttal against me defending you." He sighed loudly, lightly shaking his head. "I don't know what you were trying to prove with that remark. It certainly hasn't earn you any brown points with the major or me. Well we will be getting down to the nitty-gritty about the accident and everything that followed, but before that I what to discuss the repercussions of your actions with the major.
"Now Amelia, do to the recent event, it has been called upon me by major, to seriously consider the possible hostile working-atmosphere you've created. I agree with the major, and I have absolutely zero tolerance for it. We are a MASH unit. If we do not mash, we crumble. We work with the highest efficiency and I will not put-up with unladylike conduct. Do you understand me?"
"Yes sir."
"Good. Now because of this little fiasco. I will be personally evaluating you. Normally the major has complete control over her nurses and she'd be evaluating and determining the final decision about you, but considering the circumstances and forgetting emotions, it'd an instance no. So I will be the one deciding."
"Yes sir."
"I will watch how you perform and aid in surgeries, along with overseeing your post-op duties. Also I've called your recruiter and your basic training commanding officer Colonel George S. Turner." His face suddenly light up. "Boy do him and I go way back. So he'll have no problem spilling the beans about you."
Amelia felt her heart tighten, and she brought her hand over her chest, lightly pushing her finger's into her heart, trying to soothe the sudden pain.
"Yes sir."
"I actually phoned him this morning. Ironically his scheduled to arrive here in two weeks times. He was very enthusiastic hearing about you, although under these circumstances. He seemed rather fond of you. He'll be a reining factor in my decision to keep you here."
"Yes sir."
He eyed her. Her lacking of fight and ferocity seemed highly questionable. She seemed very subdued, quiet, and in contempt. "You seem to be taking this very well."
"Were you excepting some hostility?"
"Yes, actually." He eyed her again, her quiet responsive striking curiosity in him. "Perhaps I was right in the first place. It was just the accident. . . but if something happens like that again, I'll have to put you on report because I have absolutely no tolerance of insolent or disorderly conduct. I'll give you the benefit of the doubt, but never twice. Alright, lieutenant. Dismissed. I believe Winchester's waiting for you in Post-op. Oh, and Amelia. For you're own sake, I'd stay away from the major for these next two weeks and if you must speak with her, perhaps just nod. And I'll be wanting to speak to you again about the accident."
Amelia appeared from the colonel's office, face blank, eye's staring ahead.
"What is this I spy with my little eye? Not a scratch? scrape? bruise? bump? or teeth mark? . . . ." Hawkeye narrowed his eyes on her. "How have you escaped unscathed?"
Amelia shifted her eyes slightly behind her, to the man who had been croaching beside the door and was now standing beside her, staring bewildered.
"Captain Pierce I presume?"
"Hmm, my reputation precedes me. How does the lady in green know me?"
Amelia gingerly smiled, "Oh, no. Its that dumb smirk on your face."
"Oh you're good," laughed the man besides him.
"Doctor Hunnicutt," she said shifting her eyes to him. "Thank you for last night."
"Wait a minute? You're nice to him and not me? What gives?"
In truth Amelia had heard all about the infamous Captain Benjamin Pierce and his womanizing ways. She didn't particular dislike him or like him, somewhere between not caring.
"Ah, Lieutenant Ryan," sighed a very tired and grumpy man, his body peeking from the entry way into post-op. "Colonel Potter has unfortunately assigned you to me. Come."
Amelia was about to follow after him before a hairy man stepped in front of her.
"I like your style. Any one brave enough to tell off the major is A-okay is my book. Say you trying for a section eight? Anyway. Corporal Maxwell Klinger at your service. If you need anything at all, I'm your girl."
Amelia actually had the faintest smile on her face, and was about to say something when she heard her name again.
"Amel-yaaa," sang the annoyed voice behind the door. "We haven't all day."
Amelia rolled her eyes and followed after the plump, balding man.
"Got to admit she's a loaded pistol," B.J. said, watching Amelia leave.
"Ya, but who's she going to go off on next?"
The Forbidden Fruit
Author's Notes: Okay, I know it seems like I am picking on the major a lot, but I swear there's a reason and resolution. All the hype is not for nothing or for show. And about Father Mulcahy and Amelia's relationship. No, it's not love at first sight, but that is what's beautiful about their relationship. Physical appearance means nothing to them. It's the emotional bond they create with each other that . . . well, I can't give it all way ;) but with that being said I can tease you with bits of words. Future chapters involve mistletoe, cake, and kisses? Thanks for reading :) And let me what you thought.
