This chapter is somewhat shorter in contrast to the rest, but I hope its enjoyable. Also, my knowledge of poker is very poor, I apologize. Please R&R!
"How ya doin', kid?"
Hawkeye asked his patient, warmly. The teen's eyes slowly flickered open. He roughly clears his throat.
"Pretty good, considering"
He jests with a half smile, his voice weakened. The surgeon then takes notice as the young man's eyes lazily travel to land upon his stomach.
"If you don't mind me askin', Doc. When are ya due?"
Hawkeye chuckles softly, his hand rubbing the side where the baby had shifted.
"Around early January, but may very well arrive on Christmas"
"My sister was a Christmas baby. Dad had her on the way to the hospital"
Hawkeye chuckles lightly once again. The story had its own unique sense of endearing and charm.
"Yep, that's the thing about babies. They're full of surprises"
Back at the Swamp, the father-to-be was finally able to unwind. Hours of being wrist-deep in organs, on his feet with barely any breaks was truly both mentally and physically exhausting. Especially considering the additional weight that pregnancy put on him. He sighs and grabs for the Oreos, this time completely omitting the ketchup.
"You up for a bit of poker in 'ah bit?"
Trapper inquired with a gleam in his eye. Hawkeye smirked and finished the rest of the cookie.
"As long as I get to bring my cookies, and everyone's okay with me bringin' the latrine in here, then sure"
The men soon had a small group compiled in the Swamp. This comprised of Radar, Klinger, Sargeant Zale, Trapper and himself. It'd been awhile since he enjoyed a good, old fashioned poker night. Would it have been better with gin? Naturally, but thankfully his abstinence lifestyle was only temporary for a few more months.
"Holy cow! Is this a good card?"
Radar's eyes lit up as he attempted to turn his cards towards Hawkeye. He gives a low chuckle and lightly pushes them back towards the Corporal as to not risk showing everyone seeing what he was playing with.
"Most important rule of poker, Radar. Never show your hand, but yes. That's very good"
Suddenly, there was a low grumble from where Klinger had been sitting. Eyes giving one final scan of the fan of cards before him.
"Eh, I fold"
The Lebanese man groused, before tossing down a 7 of Clubs, 4 of Diamonds, 3 of Spades, and 2 of Hearts. "Ooohh" Hawkeye uttered in a pained-like tone, complete with an expression liken to biting into a lemon.
"Well, it was 'ah noble effort, Klinger"
Trapper quips. The screwball Corporal adjusts his red Christian Dior before getting to his high-heeled feet.
"Yeah, yeah. I'll get it next time, but right now I need 'tah get out of these heels. My feet are killin' me"
Without skipping a beat, Hawkeye chuckles under his breath and adds.
"I'll gladly trade ya, Klinger"
He gives a sort of incredulous snort, his face nearly breaking into hysterics.
"You wanna wear heels?"
Hearing this little exchange had Radar chuckling amongst himself.
"It can't be anymore uncomfortable than pregnancy"
Suddenly, Sargeant Zale uttered a sharp sigh.
"I'll tell ya what's really uncomfortable. A crap hand" with that, he too bows out.
Minutes later and the game was winding down to an end. And not a moment too soon, as fatigue seemingly had a vice-grip on the poor Surgeon. Radar was gathering his winnings, when Hot Lips suddenly stumbled into the tent. Drunk off her bumptious blonde ass.
"You see 'dis great man (she slurred slightly whilst blindly throwing an arm over his shoulder) he's..*hic*, 'mah baby's daddy"
At that moment, Pierce just wanted the earth to swallow him whole. A drunk Margaret was a rare occasion, and usually never a good thing. This was certainly no exception.
"Ookay, let's get ya back to yer tent, Major"
Trapper states whilst getting up from his chair. A mix of irritation and embarrassment was evident in his words. As he helped Margaret back out the front door. He turns back briefly towards the pregnant surgeon, mouthing the words. "Be back later"
Good 'ol Trap. Stepping up to unseemly tasks no one else dare volunteer. The two remaining hear her utter something else, only this is much less, dare they say, coherent. Radar nervously clears his throat.
"I'm sorry about all that, sir. I'm sure she's excited about becoming a mom"
Radar was a rare specimen, indeed. He had an almost childlike innocence, and yet, knew just what to say whenever situations became too adult. Hawkeye gives a low chuckle.
"I know she is, Radar. It's just probably a lot for her to fully process. Ironically enough, it was booze that was responsible for me bein' in this state in the first place"