Author's Rambling

                When I am describing the thoughts of someone at the MASH 4077th, I refer to Sam as Radar (they see Radar, so it would be futile to call him 'Sam').  Hope I haven't confused anybody.

MASH 4077th

Ouijongbu, Korea

June 5, 1952

            Meningitis?  Sam whispered under his breath.  He stole a glance at Hawkeye; the captain was too busy scrunching his face to pay any attention to a company clerk who talked to himself.

            The hologram nodded.  "In the original history, Hawkeye Pierce never told anybody he was feeling under the weather.  Tonight, Major Winchester was … will be on Post-Op duty."  After all these years, it was difficult for the two of them to discuss the past in terms of the future.  Al coughed and continued.  "The rest of the staff spent the night at Rosie's Bar.  That's a bar in the area these people frequent.  From what I've heard, Rosie's a real sweetheart," he explained.  Sam raised his eyebrows, but Al pretended to be interested in the blinking hand link.  "Hunnicutt didn't come back to the camp until 2:30 a.m." 

            "And he found …" Sam gestured to the sleeping doctor, not wanting to say it out loud. 

            "On the floor, dead."  Al punched the hand link.  "The nozzle never said 'boo'.  They didn't expect him to die … at least not that way."

            This was the kind of moment that Sam wished he could physically hug his best friend.  He reached out his hand in a friendly gesture, but it just passed through Al's red suit.  The older man had survived plenty in his life, including being abandoned by his mother and his first wife, the death of his father, living in an orphanage, being a P.O.W., alcoholism, and five failed marriages.  But nothing compared to going to the institution to rescue his sister … and learning that she had died from pneumonia a mere six months earlier.

            A tiny smile appeared on Al's face at Sam's attempted gesture of friendship.  "Thanks, kid," he said quietly.  Never one to openly show deep emotion, he immediately focused his attention on the hand link.  "B.J. Hunnicutt suffered a nervous break down and had to be discharged from the Army.  Margaret Houlihan turned to alcohol and is currently serving a life sentence for the drunk-driving related death of a single father and the paralyzing of his thirteen-year-old daughter."  Both leaper and observer winced.

            The door to the Swamp creaked open.  "I've got some damp cloths," Klinger announced, poking his head in.

            Sam nodded and waved the corporal inside.  Klinger handed him a wet washcloth, which was placed on Hawkeye's gray forehead. 

            "Max Klinger fought an opium addiction for many years.  In the present day, he's celebrating five years of sobriety."

            Sam turned to Klinger.  "Are they done with surgery yet?" he asked, even though he knew there was at least another two hours left.

            "Almost, I think," Klinger answered.  He pulled up a chair next to Hawkeye's bed and smoothed out his gown.  "He don't look too good."

            "We need to get Colonel Potter in here," Sam told him.

            Al pounded the hand link for information on the aging colonel.  "Nada, Sam.  Can't find anything on the colonel.  Dead by our time, that's for sure."

            Hawkeye opened one eye.  "Would you cut it out, you two?" he hissed.  "Just quit worrying about me and I'll be fine."

            "You're ill, sir," Klinger explained.  "The kid's right – you need to be checked out by Potter."

The captain glared at him.  "The hell I do!" he roared.  "Now get out of here before I shove your face in a lobster aquarium."

            Scarlett O'Hara's twin grabbed the quantum physicist by the arm and dragged him out of the tent.  "Geez!  Someone got off on the wrong side of the bed today," he grumbled.

            "Irritability," Sam muttered to himself.  "Fever, headache, rash, nausea … all the symptoms are there."

            "What symptoms?" Klinger asked.

            "I think Captain Pierce has meningitis," Sam explained. 

            Klinger laughed.  "I didn't know you were a doctor, kid."

            Sam bit his tongue to keep from commenting.  "Someone I knew back home had meningitis," he lied.  "Hawkeye has some of the same symptoms.  And even if he doesn't have that, he has something – and he needs to examined," he concluded.

            Al typed probabilities into the hand link.  "By alerting Colonel Potter, Hawkeye receives treatment …" his bushy eyebrows rose in disgust.  "… And lives for an extra twenty-six hours."

            Sam shook his head and opened the door to the O.R.

"What's wrong?" Klinger wanted to know.  "You worried about Captain Pierce?"

"Kind of," Sam admitted.  And the fact that I can only save his life by one day.

* * *

"Are you free tonight?"

        Leah Brighton removed her nightgown from the clothesline and turned to the muscular major standing behind her.  "I've got Post-Op duty," she answered as she folded the nightgown.

            "Oh no you don't, Nurse," Major Theodore Davis smirked.  "I just had a chat with Major Houlihan.  Baker has Post-Op duty."

            Leah felt herself tense up.  "What do you want?" she sighed.

            Davis glared at her.  "Don't you dare use that tone with a superior officer!" he barked.

            "Sorry, sir," she muttered. 

            He patted her rear.  "That's quite all right, Baby," he said gently. 

            She noticed herself jumping slightly.  As the youngest nurse at the 4077th, she was used to the moniker.  Most people called her "Baby" with affection, but hearing the name slip from Major Davis's mouth frightened her.  She bit her lip as he massaged her back.  "Meet me at Rosie's Bar at eight," he whispered in her ear.  "Drinks are on me."

            "I can't, sir," she said.  "I've got plans," she quickly added.  She placed the nightgown in the basket and started folding a shirt. 

            He planted a kiss on her cheek.  "Cancel them," he ordered.  She held her breath as he brushed an unruly chestnut brown curl off her forehead.  "Or I'll write you up for disobeying your superior."

            He kissed her other cheek and walked away.  She didn't stop trembling until he was out of view, and it took her nearly ten minutes to start breathing normally again.  With shaky hands, she gathered up the remainder of her laundry and headed toward the nurses' tent.  Why am I so upset? She wondered.  I asked for it – I didn't try hard enough to push him away.  I should have listened to Aunt Hannah.  She warned me about these soldiers before I signed up to be a nurse.  But did I listen?  Noooo!  I had to act like an adult and …  A collision between two human bodies, the feel of mud on her back, and the sight of freshly laundered clothes soaring through the air ripped Leah away from her thoughts.  She looked to her left and saw the short, bespectacled company clerk brushing himself off.

            "I'm sorry about that," he said, offering her his hand to help her up off the ground.  He bent down and started to rescue her clothes from the Korean mud.

            "It was my fault," she replied.  She swallowed the lump rising in her throat.  "I wasn't watching where I was going."

            "What's wrong?" Radar asked. 

            "Nothing's wrong," she answered, attempting to plaster a tiny smile on her face.  She realized her eyes were moistening and brushed her sleeve over them to hide the evidence. 

            "Are you sure?" he pressed.  "You'll feel better if you get it off your chest."

            "I'm fine!" she snapped.  She roughly grabbed the rest of the clothes and stormed into the Nurses' Tent, leaving the tiny corporal in the dust.

* * *

Project Quantum Leap

Stallions Gate, New Mexico

February 11, 2002

            "At ease, Corporal," Admiral Calavicci ordered.  The chubby young man relaxed.  "How long have you been known as 'Radar'?" he inquired.

            "Nearly all my life, sir," Radar answered.  "I can tell things before they happen," he explained.

            "When I first started out in the Navy, my nickname was 'Bingo'," Al told him.

            "Were you a champion player, sir?"

            This kid's more naïve than Sam was, Al thought.  "I earned it by doing the bingo bango bongo with a set of triplets."  He grinned lecherously at the memory.

            Radar looked bewildered.  "Bingo … bango …"

            "Bongo.  You know … sex.  You ever do the bingo bango bongo with a nurse?"  He whistled.  "They make the best lovers.  They'll make your temperature rise and give you some T.L.C. you won't forget."

            The leapee blushed.  "I'm just a kid, sir," he stammered.

            "How old are you?"

            "Twenty next month, sir." 

            "How long have you been over in Korea?"

            "Two years, sir."  He tugged at the tight-fitting Fermi suit.

            Al glanced at his wrist link.  "Government regulations," he explained.  "I hear you're from Iowa.  Got a farm?"

            "I've lived on a farm all my life."

            "My best friend grew up on a farm in Indiana."

            "Does he still live there?" the corporal asked.

            "No, he's leaping around somewhere," Al told him.  "Radar, what can you tell me about a Nurse Leah Brighton?"

            "Aw, geez," Radar moaned.  "I just finally remembered my birthday."

            "Side effect of your experience," Al said.  "Do you remember Leah Brighton?"

            "I talk to her sometimes," Radar said.  "I think something's got her upset."

            "Do you know what that something is?"

            He shook his head.  "She won't tell me."  He looked up at the admiral.  "I think it's got something to do with Major Davis," he guessed.  "She gets the shakes every time he comes around, and he gives me the creeps.  I know I'll sure be glad when his unit gets discharged from the hospital."

            Damn, the kid was right.  Before he left the Imaging Chamber, Sam had asked him to check on the upset nurse they had met.  Sam and his instincts.  He typed Leah Brighton's name into his wrist link and waited for Ziggy to retrieve the requested information.

            "Excuse me, sir, when can I go back to my unit?" Radar asked.

            "As soon as possible," Al replied.  Although if I were in your shoes, the question would be When can I go back to Iowa.

            "My goat's got a urinary tract infection," he told the admiral.  "I gotta give him his medicine at four."

            "Don't worry, Corporal," Al assured the young man.  "Your goat's being taken care of."

            Radar breathed a sigh of relief.  "What about Captain Pierce?"

            "What about him?" Al echoed.

            "I know I'm no doctor, but he looked kinda green this morning."  He tapped his foot on the floor.  "Said it was just a bad hangover."  He looked up at Al.  "Can people get hangovers when they're not drunk?"

            "Hawkeye Pierce is in good hands," Al told him.  I hope.

            The Waiting Room door slid open, revealing Lieutenant Colonel Erin Hunnicutt.  Admiral Calavicci, being used to the sound, hardly noticed the door open.  Corporal O'Reilly jumped back a step.

            "Colonel," Al greeted the woman.

            "Admiral," she replied.  She turned to Radar.  "Well, Corporal, you're in fine shape."

            "Thanks, ma'am," he answered.

            "Just rest easy," she instructed him.  "I compiled a list of treatments for Sam to use on the captain," she whispered to Al.

            Ziggy's sultry voice broke into the room.  "Colonel Hunnicutt, you're needed in the cafeteria."

            "Someone have food poisoning again?" she asked.  "We really gotta find another cook."

            Radar's mouth dropped open.  "I know that name!" he exclaimed.  "Where do I know that name from?"  He rubbed his cheek and paced.  "Captain Hunnicutt!" he suddenly blurted out.  "Captain B.J. Hunnicutt."  He turned to Erin.  "You guys related?"

            "Yes, B.J.'s my … he's my …" Erin stammered. 

            Don't say it, Al mouthed.  As far as the kid in the Waiting Room was concerned, Erin Hunnicutt was a toddler living in California – not a chief surgeon at a top-secret government project in New Mexico.

             "He's my cousin," she finished.

            "We'll be back later to check up on you," Al told Radar.  "If you need anything, don't hesitate to ask."

            "That was strange," Erin said once they were out of the Waiting Room.  "I've never had a conversation with a family friend from the past like that."

            "You get used to these situations," Al explained.  "I've met Sam Beckett at sixteen, and I had a three hour conversation with Bingo."

            They walked toward the elevators.  "I thought you were Bingo," Erin said.

            Al grinned.  "Sam leaped into me when I was an ensign."

            "You know something, I might be able to get hold of Radar.  The Radar in our time," she added.  The elevator door opened and she stepped inside.  "I'll see what I can find out about Nurse Brighton's situation."