Beauty Obscured
**********************
Author's Note: Hey everybody! I know, I know, I'm starting to write yet ANOTHER fic when you readers out there are waiting for more chapters on my other, more successful fics. Well, don't get your knickers [tee hee, I love that word!] in a knot! I'll have more chapters up soon. But for now, read
this story. And please review!
This Story Is Dedicated to Holly Jones.
She Left This World That Treated Her So Badly For Another.
The World She Is Now In Is A Cheerful, Peaceful Sanctuary That She
Found During A Time Of Death And Destruction To Our World.
In This Story, Hawkeye And Margaret Escape The War To A Place Filled
With Beauty.
May The Spirit And Soul Of Holly Jones Rest In Peace, Now That She
Has Found It.
********************************
Korea was never a beautiful place. Not during the war, anyways. It was always dark and dreary, the skies were bleak and you could never see the sunbeams. Instead of hills sprinkled with bright green grass, the grounds were flat and rocky, covered in colourless dust and dirt. There was barely a tree anywhere. Sure, there was a mound of forest about a mile in each direction, but none of those really pretty trees. The trunks were gray and the leaves were brittle and a dingy brown, never green. Everyone in the war always complained about everything being green; the clothes, the jeeps, the food. But deep inside everyone's heart, there was a secret desire; a desire for the leaves on the trees to be green.
However, all of Korea was not drab ugliness. There was a river, a gushing blue ribbon across the darkness of the war. It was surrounded by flourishing lush and blooming flowers. The clouds would part above the river and the sun would shimmer upon the calm waters. Tall, healthy, emerald willow trees hugged the banks of the river. The secret creek was hidden in the depths of the ongoing war. In a little corner of Korea, near a M*A*S*H camp... the 4077th...
**********
"Radar, get me those papers on that orphanage you showed me at breakfast."
"Yes, sir."
A weary, gruff voice lingered in the tattered building. The reply was quite the opposite, young, gentle, and filled with anxiety. Soft footsteps vibrated through the tiny, but cozy, office as another voice rang out.
"Colonel, what is this all about?"
Irritation surged through the words of this voice and impatience soaked into the sentence. The voice was mischievous and light-hearted and kindness tinged the friendly drawl. This voice could only belong to one person.
Hawkeye Pierce.
"Yes, Colonel, what is going on?"
A new intonation joined the conversation. It was soft but firm, gentle but tough, with floating inquiries tugging at the urgent tone.
Margaret Houlihan.
"Here are the papers, sir." The younger voice returned with newfound worry. A slight shuffling followed by silence echoed from the room.
Hawkeye drummed his fingers on the sleek wooden table with exasperation. Margaret kept biting her perfectly kempt fingernails, chewing the ends violently as Colonel Potter flipped through the thick heap of papers, trying to find a particular one. Hawkeye made a face.
"That's disgusting." he observed, big blueberry-coloured eyes reflecting a repulsive glare. Margaret's head shot up. Outraged emerald-blue eyes met sparkling azure ones.
She sighed.
"You're right." she admitted, much to Hawkeye's surprise. "An old habit that's hard to break." She smiled shyly at him. He grinned his famous grin back to her. She giggled girlishly.
Colonel Potter eyed the two before clearing his throat irritably. He shuffled the papers uncomfortably on his desk while Hawkeye and Margaret wrenching their gaze from each other reluctantly. Potter stood up slowly.
"General Loffel- you know, the one that came up to our cozy little camp a few weeks ago- reported to us that there are eight -eight!- little Korean orphans that somehow escaped Sister -she lived in Father Mulcahy's hometown- well, Sister Patrica reported to General Loffel that they are wandering around our area. Now, you know how dangerous it is for little children to be just strolling around our little war, now don't you? Me and General Loffel have decided that someone should go looking for those orphans. You two are the lucky selected for the job. A jeep will be here in two hours. I suggest you prepare yourselves." Potter finished reading off a thin sheet of paper over his glasses. He looked down at Hawkeye and Margaret for their reactions.
Hawkeye appeared both outraged and disbelieving. Margaret simply looked horrified.
"Colonel, you can't be serious! Sending us out there!" Hawkeye pointed out of the small window. "When there is shelling on?! We could die!"
"We have to rescue those poor, innocent little children! Colonel Potter, I accept the job both willingly and gratefully." Margaret looked fierce and proud, nodding her head. Hawkeye slammed his hands down on Colonel Potter's desk, fists sending papers soaring.
"We-we can't go out there! Hotlips, what are you thinking?! We'll surely die!"
"Hush, Pierce. And call me Major, Captain. " Margaret said, indignity tugging at her tone.
Despite the situation, Hawkeye's serious expression was broken by a wide, goofy grin.
"Well, this just might be interesting... Major Hotlips."
**************************
**********************
Author's Note: Hey everybody! I know, I know, I'm starting to write yet ANOTHER fic when you readers out there are waiting for more chapters on my other, more successful fics. Well, don't get your knickers [tee hee, I love that word!] in a knot! I'll have more chapters up soon. But for now, read
this story. And please review!
This Story Is Dedicated to Holly Jones.
She Left This World That Treated Her So Badly For Another.
The World She Is Now In Is A Cheerful, Peaceful Sanctuary That She
Found During A Time Of Death And Destruction To Our World.
In This Story, Hawkeye And Margaret Escape The War To A Place Filled
With Beauty.
May The Spirit And Soul Of Holly Jones Rest In Peace, Now That She
Has Found It.
********************************
Korea was never a beautiful place. Not during the war, anyways. It was always dark and dreary, the skies were bleak and you could never see the sunbeams. Instead of hills sprinkled with bright green grass, the grounds were flat and rocky, covered in colourless dust and dirt. There was barely a tree anywhere. Sure, there was a mound of forest about a mile in each direction, but none of those really pretty trees. The trunks were gray and the leaves were brittle and a dingy brown, never green. Everyone in the war always complained about everything being green; the clothes, the jeeps, the food. But deep inside everyone's heart, there was a secret desire; a desire for the leaves on the trees to be green.
However, all of Korea was not drab ugliness. There was a river, a gushing blue ribbon across the darkness of the war. It was surrounded by flourishing lush and blooming flowers. The clouds would part above the river and the sun would shimmer upon the calm waters. Tall, healthy, emerald willow trees hugged the banks of the river. The secret creek was hidden in the depths of the ongoing war. In a little corner of Korea, near a M*A*S*H camp... the 4077th...
**********
"Radar, get me those papers on that orphanage you showed me at breakfast."
"Yes, sir."
A weary, gruff voice lingered in the tattered building. The reply was quite the opposite, young, gentle, and filled with anxiety. Soft footsteps vibrated through the tiny, but cozy, office as another voice rang out.
"Colonel, what is this all about?"
Irritation surged through the words of this voice and impatience soaked into the sentence. The voice was mischievous and light-hearted and kindness tinged the friendly drawl. This voice could only belong to one person.
Hawkeye Pierce.
"Yes, Colonel, what is going on?"
A new intonation joined the conversation. It was soft but firm, gentle but tough, with floating inquiries tugging at the urgent tone.
Margaret Houlihan.
"Here are the papers, sir." The younger voice returned with newfound worry. A slight shuffling followed by silence echoed from the room.
Hawkeye drummed his fingers on the sleek wooden table with exasperation. Margaret kept biting her perfectly kempt fingernails, chewing the ends violently as Colonel Potter flipped through the thick heap of papers, trying to find a particular one. Hawkeye made a face.
"That's disgusting." he observed, big blueberry-coloured eyes reflecting a repulsive glare. Margaret's head shot up. Outraged emerald-blue eyes met sparkling azure ones.
She sighed.
"You're right." she admitted, much to Hawkeye's surprise. "An old habit that's hard to break." She smiled shyly at him. He grinned his famous grin back to her. She giggled girlishly.
Colonel Potter eyed the two before clearing his throat irritably. He shuffled the papers uncomfortably on his desk while Hawkeye and Margaret wrenching their gaze from each other reluctantly. Potter stood up slowly.
"General Loffel- you know, the one that came up to our cozy little camp a few weeks ago- reported to us that there are eight -eight!- little Korean orphans that somehow escaped Sister -she lived in Father Mulcahy's hometown- well, Sister Patrica reported to General Loffel that they are wandering around our area. Now, you know how dangerous it is for little children to be just strolling around our little war, now don't you? Me and General Loffel have decided that someone should go looking for those orphans. You two are the lucky selected for the job. A jeep will be here in two hours. I suggest you prepare yourselves." Potter finished reading off a thin sheet of paper over his glasses. He looked down at Hawkeye and Margaret for their reactions.
Hawkeye appeared both outraged and disbelieving. Margaret simply looked horrified.
"Colonel, you can't be serious! Sending us out there!" Hawkeye pointed out of the small window. "When there is shelling on?! We could die!"
"We have to rescue those poor, innocent little children! Colonel Potter, I accept the job both willingly and gratefully." Margaret looked fierce and proud, nodding her head. Hawkeye slammed his hands down on Colonel Potter's desk, fists sending papers soaring.
"We-we can't go out there! Hotlips, what are you thinking?! We'll surely die!"
"Hush, Pierce. And call me Major, Captain. " Margaret said, indignity tugging at her tone.
Despite the situation, Hawkeye's serious expression was broken by a wide, goofy grin.
"Well, this just might be interesting... Major Hotlips."
**************************
