Two weeks now have passed. Putting Pierce at 38 weeks, and very much ready to drop this kid. Hot Lips was like a caged lion at times, on pins and needles. With Christmas eve right around the corner, the base had created a small betting pool, with the pot growing larger each day. What was it? A wager of when the long-awaited Hawkeye Jr., will make their appearance. As well as, gender, size, and weight. Not everyone was sold on the idea he was having a boy. This included Trapper.

"So, you bet its 'ah girl, huh?"

That classic, charming smirk was hidden behind his surgical mask. The wrinkles at the corners of his eyes, deepening. As he shoots a look across the O.R. to Trapper.

"Sorry, Hawk. Nothin' personal, gotta lot 'ah money ridin' on it though"

In the midst of Frank's absence, meant more work to be shouldered by at least one of the two Captains, Colonel, and nurses unit. His fate still remained undetermined. Just like the Army to drag their feet, but the upside being he no longer posed a threat to Pierce. Understandably, taking the Captain's delicate condition into consideration, he was more-or-less, exempt the longer surgical hours.

Afterwards, the Surgeon found himself scrubbing up in the showers tent. Getting over the initial shock of the ice cold water, before it could transition to warm. It was a very welcomed relief to his aching muscles. Even the baby seemed to be enjoying the relaxing temps. He chuckled softly, watching as a tiny foot lashed out from beneath his skin.

It was amusing to him how, before the pregnancy, he was quite the player on base. A different woman every week. But with impending fatherhood looming over, he had settled down considerably. That wasn't to say him and Hot Lips were an item just because they were having a child. Others would see this as quite taboo, since the child was conceived out of wedlock. Then again, the 4077 was no stranger to infidelities and the like.

It felt as though the baby had dropped within the 38th week. An irrefutable heaviness in his pelvis, perhaps the birth was closer than they all had originally thought. He runs a small towel roughly over his face.

Blindly reaching for his fire engine red robe, and slung it on. It was nothing short of a miracle the belt was still able to tie around. But, was rather pushing past its limits. He had just opened the door, starting his trek back to the Swamp, when a familiar voice called out from a nearby bush.

"Psst..Pierce!"

If it wasn't for the fact he had abstained from alcohol over these past nine months, he could've sworn he was drunk and hearing things. His curiosity perked, he went to investigate. A brow cocked.

"Frank?"

The Captain's voice a mix of intrigue and amusement. Within the blink of an eye, the admonished Major lept out from the shrubbery. His Army fatigues tattered and dirty, his cap elsewhere. It appeared as though he had escaped a POW camp. Perhaps he had, Pierce couldn't help but give a hearty laugh at this. How did he end up there? How long was he waiting there? How did he sneak past everyone without them seeing? It took several moments for Frank to catch his breath, and gather himself.

"Listen, Pierce. I just wanna say how sorry I am about the Swamp incident..they have me doin' grunt work on a neighboring base, like, nine miles out. Its like Gulag. And that's before even reachin' a verdict!"

As much as he loathed the little weasel, even this was a bit too much. Then again, Frank Burns was no stranger to embellishments. However, if the base discovered he had escaped and was in contact with the very Surgeon he was supposed to stay away from, Gulag would probably seem like a holiday. Pierce couldn't help but laugh once more.

This could very well turn out to work in his favor. One call to the base that the Major was "killed" by sniper fire, and he was home-free. In exchange, for the remainder of the pregnancy, Burns would be his own personal Moose. There was just the little matter of dealing with Henry and everyone else. However, seeing as he initiated a course of action, he figured he could just as easily retract it. He smirks.

"Tell ya what, Frank. I'll have Radar contact the base. As far as they're concerned, you're now deceased. (The Major's eyes widened, visibly unsettled by this. Pierce chuckles) but, there's a ca-"

"-Anything! Just name it!"

He blurted out, cutting the Captain off. Just watching him all panic-stricken and squirming was truly something to be relished.

"For the remainder of the pregnancy. You're to do everything I ask"

His expression swiftly morphed to disappointment. An infantile, whiny outburst bubbling beneath the surface. If he had a functioning brain cell, he'd be wise not to contest this. But, as with Frank's nature, of course, he was not onboard with this arrangement. Pierce hears him give an indignant scoff.

"Okay, Frank. I'll simply have Radar tell the base they have a deserter on their hands..is that be-"

"-Fine, fine! You win, Pierce!"

That satisfied smirk returned to the Captain's lips.

"Good"

He gives Frank orders to stay put, whilst he tracked down the clerk. The awkward Corporal peered up at Pierce, the confusion and general "What the Hell?," was obvious. Clunky, black headphones framing his rounded face. The young man swallows nervously.

"Um, sir...why are you in your robe? 'An why am I callin' the base in, uh, where was that place, again?"

"Galmae-Dong"

As to be predicted. Radar instantly starts snickering

"I'm sorry, sir. But, that's a bit inappropriate"

Pierce rolls his eyes. But he'd be a hypocrite if he said, he too, never laughed at this.

"That's where the base is, Radar!"