"Playing poker... at a time like this?"
Joles' forehead wrinkled, his eyebrows tilting up in an expression not so much of anger as of severe confusion.
"Well, it's Saturday, Colonel, and, well, there's not much that can stand in the way of long-, um, -standing tradition, hm?" Henry tried to explain, nodding his head down and lifting his cards enthusiastically.
"Yeah," Hawkeye chipped in, "Two for me, please," he tossed two cards into the center of the table. "We've been coming over here every Saturday night to play poker since three years before the war started."
Joles paced halfway around the Gerry rigged poker table, then back to his wife's side. Irene, for her part, was trying not to look too amused with the group of them.
"Did I, or did I not tell them, Darling, that if a reasonable solution couldn't be found to this problem, that their camp would be razed to the ground?"
Irene nodded helpfully, hiding a giggle behind a hand as the game continued behind her slightly confused husband.
"I'll take one," Sidney spoke up in the background.
Joles' eyes widened. "And they're playing cards."
"Look, Colonel, there's nothing I'd like more than to flatten every army camp in Korea and call the whole dreary affair off! But as it stands: it's poker night. And I defy McArthur himself to come down here and stop us!" Hawkeye broke off the tirade and grinned. "Why don't I deal you in, next hand."
Joles began to lift his hands in utter frustration, but his eyes caught Hawkeye's, and for a moment he stopped short. Then he smiled. "You know; you remind me," people began to scoot out of his way as he pulled up a chair and sat by the surgeon, "Of a man I used to know, way back when." His eyes watered slightly, tinting pink with blood as he leaned back and waved a hand in front of his face, "Smell like him, too. What's that fire- water you've got, there?"
"Just some old fashioned gin," Hawkeye held out the glass, "Like a belt?"
Joles held up a hand, "I never touch the stuff anymore." He smiled, almost wistfully. "Yes, it's our good Capital R, all over again. It hurt to have to kill him, too." Joles shook his head at the memory.
"Deal me in."
At that point, Father Mulcahy no less than stormed into the diagnostics lab, wearing a face that made Henry's kindred blood run cold in fear that he'd done something horrible and just couldn't remember what, and that made Radar wonder whether he'd tied together the wrong pair of bootlaces altogether. Even the kine looked mildly startled, and Joles and his wife turned around after their example to look.
"So here you all are--!" Mulcahy started to bellow. That was as far as he got when he realized that the remaining visitors were in the same room. He stopped short.
Colonel Potter stood up, with the intent of asking how the trip had gone and how Klinger was, but Mulcahy's observance of the visiting kindred made him sit back down. If there was anything he didn't need, it was for these two Camarilla goons to catch wind of the M*A*S*H 4077th's attempts at liberation. "Something wrong, Father?" he limited himself to asking.
The chaplain managed to pull a 180 in his apparent emotional state, and began to tuck in his shirt, which had gotten mildly dislodged on his way back to camp. "No, Colonel, nothing at all, I was just looking for you, and, for you, and," he tilted his head toward Irene, "For you, miss, actually. And, well," he smiled and repeated more pleasantly, "Here you all are." Here he could show these layabouts how to get things done when dealing with these monsters.
"Yes, Padre, here we are. What was it you needed to tell us?" Colonel Potter nodded gently.
"Well, sir, we've got a new patient just got in. No surgery necessary," he quickly added when Potter and B.J. both started to get up. "The nurses are taking good care of him, just so you'll know to go by and see him when you've got time in your... busy schedule." He looked down significantly at the cluttered poker table.
"Father--" Potter tried to cut in.
"No, Colonel, it's quite all right, no explanations necessary."
As the exchange was going on between the two, Irene stepped quietly behind the Father and put her hand on his shoulder. He startled slightly and turned to watch her with a wary eye.
"You needed to tell me something, too, Father?" she asked gently.
"Oh, oh, yes, um, your friend... the... other one? Megan, I believe her name was? She asked me to come find you; she needs to speak with you."
Joles perked up at that statement. "Meg? That lazy creature, where's she been hiding? Bring here here at once, I've got a thing or two to say to her."
Mulcahy cleared his throat embarrassedly, "Colonel, perhaps it's best to leave this to Irene, for now. I believe it entails--" he looked from side to side, a slight blush coming over him, "Ladies' problems."
The two Kindred froze for a moment, then looked at one another. Irene burst out into giggles, and Joles stood up, "What in Lucifer's name are you talking about, Father?" he began to demand, but Irene coaxed him into sitting back down.
"Ladies' problems, darling, I think I'd better go see what's the matter."
Joles rolled his eyes. "If you must. But tell that... 'lady' that I'll have to have a word with her tonight."
Joles turned back to the table and picked up the first of the cards that Sidney was dealing. "Ladies' problems." He muttered to himself.
"No!" Radar, his tongue finally becoming untied as he stared at Father Mulcahy in shock, fully aware of the Hunter's intent. All heads swiveled toward the Pooka.
"I mean, you can't go help with those kinds of things... Major Houlihan deals with all the, uh, ladies' problems here! You're our guest, you should stay here! And, um, play cards with us!"
Hawkeye looked up at Radar, who was standing, for emphasis, on top of one of the poker chairs, which was wobbling even under his slight weight. "Radar, I'm not sure how experienced Hot Lips is in the area of vampiric gynecology." He paused slightly, then grinned, "Though if they'd offered THAT course in med school, I doubt I would have missed so much class."
Irene didn't blush, pale as she was, but she did look away in a sort of bashful gesture as she went to follow the priest outside. He held the door open for her and looked back at Radar with a stern look.
"Well, what better chance for her to learn some--" Radar's voice wavered off as the door shut behind the two leaving the tent. The cards on the table in front of him went untouched for the entire hand as he stared in terror at the door.
"The game is five-card stud, threes and one-eyed jacks wild." Sidney began.
~
Joles' forehead wrinkled, his eyebrows tilting up in an expression not so much of anger as of severe confusion.
"Well, it's Saturday, Colonel, and, well, there's not much that can stand in the way of long-, um, -standing tradition, hm?" Henry tried to explain, nodding his head down and lifting his cards enthusiastically.
"Yeah," Hawkeye chipped in, "Two for me, please," he tossed two cards into the center of the table. "We've been coming over here every Saturday night to play poker since three years before the war started."
Joles paced halfway around the Gerry rigged poker table, then back to his wife's side. Irene, for her part, was trying not to look too amused with the group of them.
"Did I, or did I not tell them, Darling, that if a reasonable solution couldn't be found to this problem, that their camp would be razed to the ground?"
Irene nodded helpfully, hiding a giggle behind a hand as the game continued behind her slightly confused husband.
"I'll take one," Sidney spoke up in the background.
Joles' eyes widened. "And they're playing cards."
"Look, Colonel, there's nothing I'd like more than to flatten every army camp in Korea and call the whole dreary affair off! But as it stands: it's poker night. And I defy McArthur himself to come down here and stop us!" Hawkeye broke off the tirade and grinned. "Why don't I deal you in, next hand."
Joles began to lift his hands in utter frustration, but his eyes caught Hawkeye's, and for a moment he stopped short. Then he smiled. "You know; you remind me," people began to scoot out of his way as he pulled up a chair and sat by the surgeon, "Of a man I used to know, way back when." His eyes watered slightly, tinting pink with blood as he leaned back and waved a hand in front of his face, "Smell like him, too. What's that fire- water you've got, there?"
"Just some old fashioned gin," Hawkeye held out the glass, "Like a belt?"
Joles held up a hand, "I never touch the stuff anymore." He smiled, almost wistfully. "Yes, it's our good Capital R, all over again. It hurt to have to kill him, too." Joles shook his head at the memory.
"Deal me in."
At that point, Father Mulcahy no less than stormed into the diagnostics lab, wearing a face that made Henry's kindred blood run cold in fear that he'd done something horrible and just couldn't remember what, and that made Radar wonder whether he'd tied together the wrong pair of bootlaces altogether. Even the kine looked mildly startled, and Joles and his wife turned around after their example to look.
"So here you all are--!" Mulcahy started to bellow. That was as far as he got when he realized that the remaining visitors were in the same room. He stopped short.
Colonel Potter stood up, with the intent of asking how the trip had gone and how Klinger was, but Mulcahy's observance of the visiting kindred made him sit back down. If there was anything he didn't need, it was for these two Camarilla goons to catch wind of the M*A*S*H 4077th's attempts at liberation. "Something wrong, Father?" he limited himself to asking.
The chaplain managed to pull a 180 in his apparent emotional state, and began to tuck in his shirt, which had gotten mildly dislodged on his way back to camp. "No, Colonel, nothing at all, I was just looking for you, and, for you, and," he tilted his head toward Irene, "For you, miss, actually. And, well," he smiled and repeated more pleasantly, "Here you all are." Here he could show these layabouts how to get things done when dealing with these monsters.
"Yes, Padre, here we are. What was it you needed to tell us?" Colonel Potter nodded gently.
"Well, sir, we've got a new patient just got in. No surgery necessary," he quickly added when Potter and B.J. both started to get up. "The nurses are taking good care of him, just so you'll know to go by and see him when you've got time in your... busy schedule." He looked down significantly at the cluttered poker table.
"Father--" Potter tried to cut in.
"No, Colonel, it's quite all right, no explanations necessary."
As the exchange was going on between the two, Irene stepped quietly behind the Father and put her hand on his shoulder. He startled slightly and turned to watch her with a wary eye.
"You needed to tell me something, too, Father?" she asked gently.
"Oh, oh, yes, um, your friend... the... other one? Megan, I believe her name was? She asked me to come find you; she needs to speak with you."
Joles perked up at that statement. "Meg? That lazy creature, where's she been hiding? Bring here here at once, I've got a thing or two to say to her."
Mulcahy cleared his throat embarrassedly, "Colonel, perhaps it's best to leave this to Irene, for now. I believe it entails--" he looked from side to side, a slight blush coming over him, "Ladies' problems."
The two Kindred froze for a moment, then looked at one another. Irene burst out into giggles, and Joles stood up, "What in Lucifer's name are you talking about, Father?" he began to demand, but Irene coaxed him into sitting back down.
"Ladies' problems, darling, I think I'd better go see what's the matter."
Joles rolled his eyes. "If you must. But tell that... 'lady' that I'll have to have a word with her tonight."
Joles turned back to the table and picked up the first of the cards that Sidney was dealing. "Ladies' problems." He muttered to himself.
"No!" Radar, his tongue finally becoming untied as he stared at Father Mulcahy in shock, fully aware of the Hunter's intent. All heads swiveled toward the Pooka.
"I mean, you can't go help with those kinds of things... Major Houlihan deals with all the, uh, ladies' problems here! You're our guest, you should stay here! And, um, play cards with us!"
Hawkeye looked up at Radar, who was standing, for emphasis, on top of one of the poker chairs, which was wobbling even under his slight weight. "Radar, I'm not sure how experienced Hot Lips is in the area of vampiric gynecology." He paused slightly, then grinned, "Though if they'd offered THAT course in med school, I doubt I would have missed so much class."
Irene didn't blush, pale as she was, but she did look away in a sort of bashful gesture as she went to follow the priest outside. He held the door open for her and looked back at Radar with a stern look.
"Well, what better chance for her to learn some--" Radar's voice wavered off as the door shut behind the two leaving the tent. The cards on the table in front of him went untouched for the entire hand as he stared in terror at the door.
"The game is five-card stud, threes and one-eyed jacks wild." Sidney began.
~