References "Foreign Affairs" and "The Life You Save." And I know I got them all out of order. Just humor me, 'kay?

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The Red Cross had sent a French representative to the 4077th to observe their techniques. Martene. Jessie liked the friendly woman with the lively eyes, along with the rest of the camp. And she was just as surprised when Martene and Charles seemed to hit it off. Jessie was genuinely happy for him, even being amused at Hawkeye's seemingly jealous glances in the happy couple's direction as they talked the night away.

"Oh, c'mon, Hawkeye," Jessie said, leaning over him at the bar and reaching for some stale pretzels. "He deserves someone just as much as you do."

Hawkeye muttered to himself, hunched over his beer glass. "But, I've always had a thing for French women."

"Yeah, and Asian and Brazilian and Polish and American . . ." B.J. ticked off on his fingers. Hawkeye gave his friend a mean look, then immediately laughed aloud.

Klinger polished off the last pretzel in the bowl. "So, you're not . . . you know . . . jealous?"

"Huh?"

Hawkeye studied her closely. "The two of you seemed to be getting along famously, especially since Radar left. . ." He trailed off and the brief look of sadness in her eyes.

She absently pushed her pretzels around on her napkin. "Charles is a good man. But, we're just friends." However, glancing over at him and Martene, heads together in conversation, she was disturbed by the vague feeling of uneasiness.

Looking for a diversion, she elbowed B.J. in the side. "Besides, who do you think helps him come up with all the tricks he pulls on the two of you."

"I knew he had help with some of those!"

*******************************************

"So, what do you think, hoops or studs?"

Jessie looked up from her magazine. "Do you really think he'll notice? Hawkeye isn't exactly a details person."

"Only the important details!" Kelleye pointed out.

The new nurse Kathy threw a pillow at Kelleye. Resolutely, she chose the hoops. "Well, I don't care. I might as well have fun while I'm here. Sara Bigelow, you're stinking up Jessie's tent with all that nail polish! Desist already!"

Jessie laughed at her friends, thumbing through the pages. She had left the O-Club early, her awareness of Charles and Martene huddled together in the corner making her a trifle uneasy. However, it was easy to lose herself in the friendly chatter of the nurses, forgetting what had bothered her all evening.

They didn't hear the soft knock on the door. Hearing laughter inside, Martene opened it, making herself welcome.

"Mind if I join you?"

"Oh, not at all. Make yourself at home," Kelleye said, stacking magazines to make room for their new guest. They had already discussed the French visitor and found her to their liking. Especially for the fact she was smart enough to avoid Hawkeye.

"Actually, I have a prior engagement, but I would like to speak to Lieutenant Callahan, if I might."

"Just no medical talk. I'm off-duty until tomorrow afternoon."

Martene laughed aloud. "I wouldn't imagine boring you with such business on your day off. Please, this is actually . . . personal."

"Oh. Well, let's step outside."

Kelleye and Bigelow looked at each other, eyebrows raised in curiosity as Jessie followed her guest out. They fell over themselves to press against the burlap, dying for some gossip as Kathy protested their lack of decorum.

Jessie heard the stifled giggles from inside. "Martene, if whatever you want to tell me is personal and you don't want whatever it spread all over camp by morning, you might want to step away from my tent."

Martene laughed again, and Jessie couldn't help but smile.

"Yes, it seems that ears will hear no matter how softly mouths speak, no?"

"Yeah, something like that. So, what's on your mind?"

Martene seemed suddenly uncomfortable, trying to formulate her words carefully. "I saw you and Ch . . . Major Winchester this evening in the Officer's Club. You both dance divinely."

Jessie colored slightly and waved her hand. "Oh, that's just something we do." Since Radar left, she had tried to keep busy by teaching some of the enlisted men to dance. Most of them were terrible students, but it kept Jessie's mind off her troubles.

Charles had caught her one day trying to avoid Rizzo's feet in the O-Club. Gallantly, he had saved her from total destruction, then offered to dance with her himself. Jessie had forgotten how much she enjoyed ballroom dancing, especially with a partner that knew what he was doing.

Ever since, when that particular song was played on the jukebox, they both stopped what they were doing if they were both in the O-Club, no matter who was watching, and danced.

"I was actually . . . actually surprised when he approached me. He seemed so . . . so – ah - caught up with . . ."

Martene smiled. "I am but an acquaintance, but you are a dear friend. One always chooses friends first. And that brings me to my question."

Jessie motioned for her to go on, curious and hesitant at the same time.

"Are you and Charles lovers?"

Jessie almost choked. She shook her head vigorously. "Oh, no, not at all!"

Martene studied Jessie closely. "The two of you seem so . . . so confident in each other. It's rare to see people act and look at each other the way you do who are not intimate."

Nervous, Jessie tried not to stutter. "Good grief! He helped me through a rough time, and I'll . . . I'll always be grateful. But, that's all there is."

"He speaks highly of you, you know."

"Really?" While not as pompous towards her as with most everyone else, it was still rare for him to spout compliments.

"Oh, yes. That's why I had to make sure before I took our relationship any further."

"Why didn't you ask him?"

"I did. He said the same thing you did. You're just friends."

Somewhere between disappointment and relief, Jessie decided to let it go.

Martene seemed satisfied. "Well, I guess I better get back to . . . to my prior engagement." With a smile, she turned and walked away.

Jessie had an idea of what the "prior engagement" was and didn't want to ponder on it. Shaking her head at her own confusion, she opened the door to her tent and laughed as Kathy, Sara and Kelleye stumbled over themselves to get away from the door.

**************************************

Jessie and Kelleye were walking through camp a few days later, discussing a patient in post-op as they took a break from their duties. They were both startled by Martene emerging from the Swamp, tears in her eyes. They watched as she climbed into a waiting jeep and was whisked away without a backwards glance.

They looked at each other.

"Uh, oh. Trouble in paradise?" Kelleye said, motioning towards the Swamp.

Jessie watched the jeep disappearing around the bend, curiosity trying to get the best of her. She shrugged. "They seemed happy enough."

"It'll get around soon enough. You know how it is around here."

Jessie grimaced. I sure do.

Slowly, they returned to the post-op ward and their impending weekly review by Major Houlihan.

That evening, Jessie found herself at the door of the Swamp, her arm raised to knock. She knew Charles. He wouldn't want to talk about it. But, he had been so kind to her since Radar left, she couldn't ignore him. Chewing on her bottom lip in frustration, she wondered what to do.

"Well, are you coming in or not?"

Jessie sighed at his tone and opened the door. Charles was lying on his cot, hands behind his head in the dimly-lit tent, staring aimlessly at the ceiling. B.J. and Hawkeye were thankfully absent.

Uncomfortable, Jessie looked around for a space free of magazines, clothes and other flotsam, finally easing herself onto Hawkeye's cluttered bunk. She took a deep breath, wondering what in the world she was doing there in the first place.

"I don't want to talk about it."

Jessie rolled her eyes.

"I saw that."

Jessie cleared her throat. "I saw Martene leaving today. She didn't . . . look happy. Actually, she looked downright upset."

"I said I didn't want to talk about it."

Jessie's anger flared. "You know, Charles, you're allowed the emotions the rest of us feel. You're not that inhuman."

Charles remained silent, so she pressed on.

"What happened?"

Charles sat up on the cot abruptly, startling Jessie. "Persistence in a woman is not a trait to be admired. I've told you and the two cretins I share this tent with that I don't want to talk about it. At least they took the hint and left!"

Jessie stood up in a huff. "You're right. I'm sorry I invaded your private space! I forget what a child you can be about that." She started to leave, but Charles's strangled breath stopped her in her tracks. Instead, she stopped and sat beside him on his cot, keeping her distance, watching him study his hands.

"Funny you say that," he finally managed.

Jessie waited. Hesitantly, he told her what had happened earlier in the day. When he was done, he wiped abruptly at his eyes. "I just can't be something I'm not. I don't want to turn away from the only life I've ever known. Or maybe . . .maybe I'm just not brave enough. Like you were. With O'Reilly."

Jessie's back stiffened at the mention of Radar. But, she found that her concern for Charles could easily overtake the momentary dagger of pain in her heart. "Do you remember the night after I was shot? When I had the nightmare? And what about when that injured soldier grabbed me when he was suffocating?"

A different emotion hit Charles. He had tried to forget about those nights she laid in post-op, just like he had tried to forget the fear that overcame him of losing her. Although she wasn't even his to lose. "I remember."

"You were there for me, just like you've been there for me the last few weeks. At least allow me to return the gesture. It helps to have someone to lean on, you know."

Charles reached over a placed his hand over hers. They sat like that for awhile, taking comfort from each other's presence.

***********************************************

Charles behaved strangely the next couple of days. Margaret, Hawkeye and B.J. were at their wits end, especially after Charles pestered one wounded soldier to tell him what it was like before he was revived. Being placed in charge of the motor pool, he had instructed Rizzo to take apart each jeep and lay the pieces on sheets, further exasperating everyone in camp. Jessie honestly didn't know what was going on and was almost a little afraid to approach him. He clearly did not want to be bothered.

Col. Potter stopped her one day in post-op. "Lieutenant, could I speak to you a moment in my office." Jessie looked up at Margaret, who nodded. Silently, she followed the Colonel to his office.

He motioned for her to take a seat as he settled across his desk from her. "Lieutenant, I'm a little concerned about Major Winchester. He seems a little . . .er, off his rocker."

"I . . . I understand. I've seen it, too."

Col. Potter cracked his knuckles, a gesture Radar had told her that meant he was nervous. "Do think it has something to do with the Red Cross lady?"

Jessie paused before answering. She had wondered that herself. "No, sir, I don't. Charles isn't the type to . . .to fall apart over women."

Col. Potter motioned with his hands. "Well, when the right one comes along, it could bring the strongest man to his knees."

Jessie shook her head. "I really don't think that's it, Colonel, although I honestly haven't talked to him. We've been so busy . . ."

The wounded had been coming since the day a sniper had harassed the camp the day before while they were attempting triage in the compound, injuring a couple of nurses. Jessie barely had time to eat, let alone talk. But, that didn't stop her from watching Charles closely, wondering what was wrong. "But, I'll talk to him as soon as I get a chance."

"You do that, Lieutenant. Meanwhile, I've placed a call to Sidney."

Jessie paused. "I don't know . . ."

"Nonsense. He's already on his way."

Jessie bit her tongue. Charles would not like a shrink poking into his head. "Yes, sir. I better get back to post-op, if we're finished."

He waved his hand. "Dismissed."

Throughout her shift, Jessie decided she would find Charles and make him talk to her. If he wanted to or not.

When the next shift arrived, Jessie quickly went through the patients' files with them and hurried out the door, shedding her white lab coat for her heavy jacket. She shivered against the breeze and headed towards the Swamp. Not finding him there, she wandered around, hoping to run into him.

Walking by the motor pool, she was surprised to see Charles climbing into an ambulance of all things, a determined look on his face. Looking more befuddled than usual, Rizzo stood nearby.

Funny, Col. Potter didn't say anything about Charles leaving.

"What's goin' on?" Jessie asked, standing beside the likable, but slow, mechanic.

Rizzo scratched his head. "First, he makes me tuck each of these jeeps in for the night on these nice clean sheets." He motioned towards the ground and all the parts lying around. "Then, he yells at me for it! Now, he takes off in the only workin' vehicle in camp. One he doesn't even have access to!" Rizzo shook his head. "I'll never understand these Yankees."

Knowing she was going to be in trouble for leaving without permission, but instantly caring, Jessie yanked open the door and climbed into the passenger seat as Charles reached for the starter.

He stared at her incredulously. "What are you doing?"

"Going with you." Jessie crossed her arms and stared through the dirty windshield.

"But, you don't even know where I'm . . ."

Jessie turned to look at Charles. "Do you really think after the way you've been acting lately, that I'd let you go anywhere by yourself?"

"But . . . but it's dangerous! You could be killed."

"Then why in the world are you going?"

Charles hesitated, finally shrugging. He started the engine and roared away.