**** When he walked through her infamous door later on that night, he found himself on a beach, shortly before sunset. The sun's orange glow illuminated the sand, and he skimmed the water's edge for her. While she herself was nowhere to be found, Hawkeye could tell she was around somewhere. She had left her towel on the beach, and music from the radio she had pinned the blanket down with wafted towards him.

He turned around and looked at the west side of the beach, when a voice coming from the direction of the blanket commented, "Sounds like you had an interesting day."

He spun around and looked at her, where she had apparently materialized from thin air. Today's ensemble was slightly different from the last; her midriff was still bare and her bikini was blue, instead of the deep red it had been yesterday. What spare material there was on this outfit clung to her arms and legs, obviously wet.

"I wish you wouldn't do that."

"Do what?"

"Pop into my dream like that."

"I went for a swim!" she answered indignantly.

"In that?" he asked, motioning towards her swimsuit.

"Did you really think I would be allowed into your head with a one piece?"

Hawkeye smiled at that. It was true, he loved women in bikinis.

"All right, all right, I give. So why are we here?"

"Because it reminds you of home."

"Oh, right."

There was a silence for a moment, and Hawkeye started to feel uncomfortable just standing there, so he walked over and sat down on the blanket next to her.

"And this is also my favorite place," she added.

"Your favorite place? We've never been here before. You take me to the lagoon."

She smiled secretively and played with the edge of the material. "Well, I need somewhere to go when you're awake."

"How can that be, if you're a dream."

"The inside of your head is a very complex place, Hawkeye."

"You just say that so I feel like you're always with you."

"Right. Works too."

The silence lengthened, before Hawkeye cleared his throat. "Who is she, Brooke?"

She turned around and looked into his eyes, amusement hinting at the corner of her mouth. "That's maybe the third time in your life you've called my by my name."

"Who is she?" he repeated softly.

"You think I know?" she answered, motioning to herself.

"Yes."

"Well, I don't. Hawkeye, my business with you is from rivalry to dawn, and whenever you happen to nod off in between. I have no business with what goes on in your life."

"But you always know what's going on," he said vaguely, looking away from her and out into the water.

"Hawk, all I know is what goes on in your life, in your thoughts. Because I am your thoughts. I'm in your head day in and day out. You created everything about me, remember? Whatever you wanted, you could have. If you wanted me to grow two inches, measure me tonight and then measure me next time you see me, and I'll be taller. If you wanted me to age, I would. Now go somewhere else and dream, because I have other things to do."

"Like what?"

"Like this!" she answered, and punctuated the last syllable by shoving Hawkeye off the blanket, and onto---

The floor. He landed on the ground with a resounding thump and groaned as he lay on his back, looking up at the canvas ceiling.

"Hawk?" a familiar voice asked from across the tent.

"Mmmmhmmm?"

"You ok?"

"Well, either I just had a very interesting dream, or I'm doing an article for Reader's Digest about dingy tent ceilings. You decide."

He heard the creak of the cot as his friend sat up and switched on a light, groggy eyed but awake.

"Dream about her?"

Hawkeye sat up. "Yea, a dream about her."

"You want to tell me about her?"

Hawkeye hoisted himself back up to the bed and reached out for a martini glass. "All right, I'll tell you about her."

AUTHOR's NOTE: And we'll be back after our commercial break. Bon soi!