When we arrived home tired later that night around six, we had four sleeping children, an overwhelmed friend and a worried father-in-law. Dad was reading a newspaper nervously when we stepped through the door. When Hawkeye and I started hauling one child after another up the stairs and BJ decided to hide in the guest bedroom, Dad was up and asking all sorts of questions. We waved him back to the living room. We didn't have time for his Spanish Inquisition while we unpacked from our quick trip to Boston.

"Can't the bellboy settle the baggage first?" Hawkeye inquired.

Dad took the hint. He was no less worried though. He paced the living room, hands behind his back, and waited until we took our children and luggage upstairs. I unpacked while Hawkeye went downstairs to reassure Dad that we were all right and that we only went to Boston while he played in Vermont. Even after explaining about Henry and Greg and having to go see Trapper, Dad was not convinced.

"You just sent a drunk over to Camp Grant?" Dad was incredulous. "How stupid could you be, Hawkeye? How do you know someone won't catch him? That someone won't recognize him?"

"Nobody is going to catch Trapper John," Hawkeye argued. "He's more military than MacArthur himself. I mean, he stuffed his pipe."

Dad let out a noise that was halfway between a sigh and a chuckle. "Needless to say, you all are in big trouble. You've endangered everyone."

I heard enough. Hawkeye needed some backup. Abandoning my job for now, I wrapped myself in a shawl and sojourned downstairs. By then, Dad and Hawkeye were debating loudly and growing to a full-blown argument. I didn't want anyone to wake up, so tried to defuse the situation. When Dad mentioned again that Trapper was bound to be found with a bottle of booze in the back seat (and blow his cover), I interjected.

"Not unless someone finds out what we're doing," I pointed out calmly. "I have enough people to cover for us. Trapper will be safe."

I didn't want to tell Dad it was Greg and his CIA cohorts because it means an explanation about my West German adventure. He didn't need to know that. Besides that, it was best to calm him down before his blood pressure rose and he was convinced that Trapper was doomed. He knew, as well as BJ, how unstable Trapper was. Dad loves him like a son, but understood that time might not be on his side. Trapper might never recover from Korea.

"You seem so confident," Dad said to me. "Why do you think this'll work? Because Trapper John might be stupid enough to be dismissed as a joke?"

Without thinking, Hawkeye and I began talking at once. We had all sorts of answers for Dad. Then, we began our back stories. It went from the times in Korea when we had more odds stacked against us to gunfights in Supply Tents and more. We spoke so fast and with so much gusto that Dad had a hard time following along. When we finished, his mouth hung open, but he nodded in some sort of understanding.

"You two are too young and full of spirit," he finally said. "You believe in your inner child and that we can fix everything. One day, you are going to find that all of the jokes in the world will not save you."

"I think we already learned," Hawkeye stoutly pointed out. "You endure the Army for so long and you find that not all of your plans work out the way they should."

"Sometimes you actually hear the bullet," I added.

Dad glanced between the two of us quizzically now. He could not tell if we were totally senseless or not. Then, all of the pieces started coming together. All of the letters we wrote to him were littered with passages claiming sanity in insanity began to form a picture. We were pleading to him to make it stop and to bring us home. We already knew all of our nonsense made a difference, but would go nowhere in the larger scheme of things as the war evolved around us. We lost the game too many times to count.

Suicide is Painless.

Dad took a deep breath. "I hope you both know what you are doing. I can't protect you this time."

It was the best promise any colonel made anyway. Hawkeye and I smiled. Of course, we knew the dangers. The worse was yet to come. It was not just Trapper and BJ that will suffer (of course, it will be easy for Charles to get out of it with his connections and money). It meant that we would never see Dad and the children again, but it will mean one man is not put under the flag of shame. We had to try. It was for Henry.

Tired, Dad bid us a good night. Hawkeye and I echoed the sentiments and watched him disappear into his room. For a few moments afterward, we stared into the darkness of the upstairs hallway. Then, I suggested that we swing on the back porch. Hawkeye agreed. He grabbed some glasses and gin from the still downstairs and followed me outside.

It was chilly. I pulled the shawl closer to me as I climbed into the swing. I pulled my legs up and soon lounged in Hawkeye's lap as he sat and poured drinks. He passed me my glass and toasted.

"To misadventures," he said.

I immediately added, "To old times."

"And the new."

"And to your new position."

"And to you going back to nursing."

On and on this went, until we ran out of things to toast (we went as far as Shannon's dirty dresses and Annabeth's ripped books). We went through so many drinks and were soon giggling and utterly drunk. Hawkeye began pulling at my clothes, but then stopped himself. His mouth twitched, almost like he was upset about something. It caught my attention. I sat up, almost tipping my gin out. When I managed to stabilize it on the side table, I met his eyes.

"I am not a china doll," I boldly told him. "I was abused. I wasn't totally broken."

Hawkeye stood up and held out his hand instead. "Will Madam dance with me?"

"Oh, I see what you're doing." I took his warm hand. "Romance the girl and bring her to bed?"

I almost tripped over my sore foot and my inept drunkenness. Hawkeye caught me and leaned me right into him. Soon, we were enacting the steps to a slow dance without music in the background but in our imaginations. My head rested on his chest, listening to his heartbeat. It was fast. I could not tell if he was anxious, crazy, angry, sideways or all of the above.

"No, it's supposed to be meet the girl, rescue the girl, romance her and then bring her to bed," Hawkeye corrected.

"Oh, excuse me! I was not aware that I missed a few steps."

"We're still on stage one. I was hoping to make it to at least second base."

"You've been there, Hawkeye. We're married. It means you hit the homerun."

"No, no. I don't think you understand." Hawkeye reached for the radio behind him. A slow song drew out its mournful notes. "I hardly knew you. I understood that I was bringing home a woman with a huge past. But I didn't know how deep the cuts were later. Little by little, I learn something new about you, Jeanie. I am still meeting all parts of you and trying to heal them."

When I fall in love,
It will be forever
Or I'll never fall in love.
In a restless world like this,
Love is ended before
It's begun and too many
Moonlight kisses seem to cool
In the warmth of the sun.

Suddenly, I realized what Hawkeye might have meant. "So, this mean you are having second thoughts?"

"No," Hawkeye quickly said as he passed our drinks over again, "but now that I see the whole Jeanie, I think I want to rescue her."

I laughed. "You can't rescue me. You can hardly carry me."

Our drinks were placed back on the table after consumption. Then, Hawkeye's large hands slid under my knees and back. Before I knew it, he picked me up. He was tumbling and twirling around the back porch with me in his arms. The spinning was so exhilarating that I screeched loudly in glee like a child. Eventually, we landed in the small yard and fell. We rolled away from each other into the sand, still chortling.

The cold sand caked me from head to toe. I did not care. Once more, I felt like the two of us had some sense of togetherness that the war did not bring. It was not just the children that united us. It was our sense of childishness, exploits and love. It was not just being parents, but partners too. Not to mention, we were pretty damned drunk.

Hawkeye crawled over to me. "So, can I rescue you now?"

I threw some sand at him. It landed pathetically at the leg that was shot at. I snorted and then began laughing again. The gritty slime slid down Hawkeye's pants. But it was now fair game. Hawkeye picked up a ball of sand himself and threw it at me. He aimed true and hit me right in the forehead. It almost knocked me out.

"Hey!" I shot back and missed. "That's not fair!"

When I give my heart,
It will be completely,
Or I'll never give my heart.
And the moment I can feel
That you feel that way too
Is when I fall in love with you.

Then, it was almost like a snowball fight. Exhausted from the journey and too drunk and lazy to stand up, we laid there and just tossed mounds of sand at each other. It was hilarious. All the while, we pointed at each other and laughed at each pathetic effort, since we managed to hit unimportant areas. Mine was worse than Hawkeye's.

Then, it turned into a new diversion. We had to compete to see who could bury the other person. Hawkeye was winning with experience alone. My mind was not concentrated enough on covering Love in sand. All of my efforts ended up missing him or hitting him in harmless regions.

I don't know how much time passed. We were having so much fun. When BJ came outside, we knew that the game was over. He sighed when he noted the gin on the table and the childish ways we were competing. He took a few gulps of gin himself before handling us. First, he pulled me out of the pile that engulfed me and seated me on the porch. Then, he helped Hawkeye up. All the while, Love was trying hard not to laugh.

"You couldn't invite me to the party?" BJ inquired us as he tried to half-carry Hawkeye to the porch.

"It was for this married couple only," I boldly told him.

"Reconciliation reasons," Hawkeye added.

"Uh-huh," BJ said. He deposited Hawkeye into the chair behind me. "Does this mean you two are making up?"

"I thought we were," Hawkeye slurred. He tried getting up from his chair and reaching for me (BJ stopped him). "I mean, a man doesn't get buried by his own wife any day."

I turned around and stuck my tongue out at Hawkeye. "Or a wife is prematurely buried by her husband," I replied. "I didn't think you wanted me dead so badly."

BJ didn't know what to do. He had been a part of our drunken escapades so many times, but did not understand how to handle this particular situation. I didn't understand why. I mean, we were just smashed and dirty. We had been that way several times before and even with him.

But for him, this was different. The light in our eyes was alive with a sort of sorcery he did not understand. Hawkeye and I had connected in a way that BJ could only imagine. For us, it had been a messy few days and most of it had been filled with turmoil. This had been a change in pace.

"Ok, I think you both need a shower," BJ announced. First, he took Hawkeye inside. A few minutes later, he came for me. "Come on, Jeanie. Into the bathtub with you."

"Aww, BJ," I said. I felt my head swirl. "You spoil all of our fun."

And the moment I can feel
That you feel that way too
Is when I'll fall in love with you.

"This is what I am here for," he reminded me as he dragged me inside. The radio was shut down. "I don't think you want to wake up, hungover. Shannon has school in the morning."

"Does she now?" I crackled. "I thought it was the day after tomorrow."

BJ shook his head at my nonsense. "You definitely need a shower."

I don't remember much except half-fighting BJ going upstairs. I was too tittering to care. I wanted nothing more than to roll around in the sand again. When he tossed me in the tub, Hawkeye was already there. He was still fully clothed, just as I was. As I settled on top of Hawkeye, BJ wrapped the curtain around us and turned the water on. It was cold.

Hawkeye and I yelled at the injustice of being sobered up. BJ shushed us and made the water warmer. When he heard one of the twins crying, he promised to take care of it. When BJ left, Hawkeye and I were alone. Against the heating porcelain, squished and utterly wretched, we glanced at each other. I pulled off our clothes and threw them outside of our circle and curled closer.

Even though it was uncomfortable, Hawkeye and I were content. While we sobered up, we kept fingering each other in places we hardly touched since Korea. This was new territory. Sure, we always had sex after we arrived in Maine and fooled around often enough. This was the next phase. Now that we understood the old chemistry was present and that we could get past the hurdles, we could jump over anything and still be the same people we were in Korea.

And that was what we did. While BJ soothed the child, we made use of the space and reassumed what we began. BJ didn't bother coming back. I think he knew that we were up to no good.

By the time we finished, we were wrinkled from the water. Hawkeye reached to turn the nobs off. Honestly, my head was still spinning from the gin. I didn't want this to end. Hawkeye did though. He was stiff from being on the bottom and bearing my weight. I got up and allowed him the first exit.

Hawkeye helped me out. "You ok?" he asked me. His finger traced the vertical Caesarian Section scar, up to my breasts. "Do you need help?"

I was wobbly with the ankle. I leaned against the sink for support. "I think I'm ok. You?"

He kissed me. "Never better."

We did not know how much time passed. I checked the time by sticking my head out and eying the grandfather clock across the hallway. It was nearly midnight at this point and nobody was about. I whistled. I didn't know six hours had passed that quickly.

I hopped back in. "The coast is clear."

"Good." Hawkeye wrapped me in a towel. "Let's make a run for it."

He helped me to our room as quietly as we could. Once inside, the door was closed and we grabbed some clothes and abandoned the towels to the floor. But the both of us did not make a move to get dressed. We stared at each other in a novel hunger. Hawkeye reached for me again and stopped.

"What is it?" I asked him.

"How?" he sputtered out. "How did you survive?"

"Survive what?"

"Jeanie, the film was…horrifying. Sometimes, I am afraid to touch you."

"I told you, I am not a china doll."

"This man destroyed you. You could have had a happy life."

"It never was happy to begin with, Hawkeye. You knew this. But now, it is."

"Why did you bother talking with them still?"

I had to think about it. I had played my mother enough that her fantasies were satisfied. I honestly used her to my own means. I had to store my things because I didn't want to be weighed down with memories. Dean had done the same thing. Then, there had to be someone I had to designate if death or dismemberment happened to me. While my twin had been the beneficiary of all of my earthy items, my mother had been second until Hawkeye gave me a ring. The Army didn't like that I chose one to hold it all.

Dean and I discussed Mom at great length. She was a presence we hoped would have grown up. After so many suicide attempts and religious fervors, we had a dream that she'd snap out of her nightmare and become a real mother. We always wished that she'd realize her wrongs and actually apologize to us. Giving her responsibility of us in our adult life could have made her realize the enormity of our footsteps outside of Bloomington.

Instead, she grew worse. Having her to his very own meant Clarence could manipulate Mom and grow her disillusions. Dean and I did not take this into consideration. Every time we interacted with her and Clarence, it was a nightmare and we grew weary of her. It was easier to give her letters filled with nonsense and let her hold onto some things than it was to tell the truth and be ourselves. It was worse if we bothered to stay.

Besides that, I could not remember everything Clarence did to me. I saw those pictures and shuddered when I pictured them. I remember my stepfather snapping shot after shot, but not all of them. I could not recall everything. The scar Hawkeye mentioned was something I never imagined could be from him beating me and causing me to lose my baby. Most certainly, I am sure Clarence did some perverse things to me that I didn't want engrained in my mind.

"Sidney told me," Hawkeye continued when I didn't answer. "He told me you have an idea and not to tell you. I think you should know."

"In some ways, I am curious," I admitted, "but I think whatever you know you should keep to yourself. I don't think I should find out. If I do, I hope to handle it better than I used to."

It was brave. It was the truth too. I didn't want to know anymore. Everything had to be burnt. Clarence was dead and buried. He received his just desserts. I was still alive. I have time to make the best of what I have. Hopefully, I had years ahead of me and they will be filled with love.

I pulled Hawkeye into an embrace. "You are enough for me. Even though you're not the best, I still love you. That isn't going to change."

I vaguely recalled Hawkeye's assessment from earlier and now accepted this new step in our marriage. Now, Hawkeye desired to rescue me. He knew me from the inside out for the most part. He was going to rebuild everything from the bottom up.

Slowly, he wrapped his arms around me. I knew that it was always difficult for him to hold anyone. Then, he kissed my forehead and worked his way down, to the hair between my legs. I giggled again. He was beginning a new game.

"What do you think we should use this time?" I asked him huskily.

"Scrabble," Hawkeye confirmed. He quickly grabbed his set from under the bed as he continued to kiss me. "We can make up words as we go along. Whoever gets the most points is on the bottom."

It was a deal. When I managed to pull Hawkeye away from the main attraction, I sat both of us down and set up the game. Hawkeye didn't want to follow the rules. Instead of allowing each person to pick their letters randomly, he stipulated that we take turns putting our words down.

I began with ginchiest. Hawkeye countered with bingo (and telling me it had to do with the back seat) and mentioned a passion pit next. Much like our toasting from earlier, we went on and on and threatened to outdo the other. Nobody won though because we kept messing the letters up and knocking them over or coming to a tie. Before long, it was close to dawn. I saw purple and orange lines draw across the windows. At this point, nobody had won yet.

We were still naked and damp from the shower. We weren't even tired. Between driving back from Boston and drinking and having a sand fight and sexual performances, we were exhilarated. However, a smelly diaper from a couple of doors down got our attention. I sighed. Scrabble was over and we were nowhere nearer to getting to a winner.

"I'll get this ankle biter," I announced. I tried getting up and almost fell over.

Hawkeye held me steady from the floor. "I can take care of it."

"What? Are you sure?"

"How bad can it be?"

"Worse than Annabeth's, I can reassure you."

"She was more from the mouth than the ass, I thought."

"Oh, I think you missed a few days."

From there, we dressed and put away our night clothes. The discussion went to the children. From the vanity as I brushed my hair, I kept warning Hawkeye about how bad the twins can be. He thought I was joking until I found an old OR mask on my nightstand and handed it to him. When he saw how serious I was, he gave in.

I was right too. When Hawkeye entered the twins' room, I heard him gag. Other than being sick, I have never heard him do that before and he had seen the worst, from young soldiers blown to pieces to amputations. I decided to join him. When I followed him, I saw that he was throwing up in the hamper I left for the dirty diapers. Danielle and Patrick were standing up in their crib, grinning.

Following lyrics are from the song "When I Fall in Love", written by Victor Young and Edward Heyman. Man artists recorded it, including Doris Day and Nat King Cole.