Evening fell. Mother Moon smiled and helped it to its feet. Together they
ran through the sky until they came to the air over the 4077th Mobile Army
Surgical Hospital, where she leaned down at Evening's side and pointed out
the festivities to her young son.
"Happy days are here again..." sang the P.A. system, and in the last throes of daylight all the lamps began to sparkle which had been taken out the night before. Some lit the compound where people began to congregate before moving into the officer's club.
Henry woke up, and, he being somewhat drained from the scuffle last night, the blood began to flow along with the booze. Not necessarily separate from one another.
And soon, the other vampires having not woken up yet, Henry was out on the golf course, sparsely lit with lamps, impressing the swamprats with his par- four shooting of the par-37, mile and a half long course.
"Hey, not bad, Henry," Hawkeye grinned.
"Yeah," Henry laughed, "A little bit of practice, I'll be hitting these things back to my favorite course back home." Henry whistled to see the golf ball disappear into the dark night air, and tipped his hat back, crossing his legs and leaning on the club.
The three looked up and nodded as Colonel Potter trotted his new mount, whom he'd decided, with Radar's help, to call Sophie, up a makeshift trail he'd constructed during the day, giving in to the air of enforced leisure the rest of the camp was enjoying. Paperwork could wait. The army wasn't expecting it from them, anyway. And, true to the seneschal's word, no casualties had come through since that first batch that night.
Margaret Houlihan gave Frank Burns a grope on her way through post-op, and he, recognizing the signal, went "for a coffee break."
His ferret face scrunched up in irritation as he 'accidentally' caught up with his female counterpart outside. The music was playing, there was laughter from the O.C., the loud smack of a golf ball being slammed with superhuman strength, and, finally, the clopping of hooves across the compound. The two majors turned their heads as their new C.O. passed them, looking down at them with a smile and a salute. In time, they raised their hands in a shaky return of the gesture, watching him as he disappeared behind a tent.
"A zoo, Margaret!" Frank whimpered, "This place is falling apart!"
"I agree, Frank." Margaret huffed, "It's disgraceful!"
"Margaret! What can we do? The phones won't work except for that... that... ghoul of theirs! And you saw what happened to the Father and that Loony when they tried to get out of here by jeep!"
Margaret coughed, and straightened her back decisively. "A real man would KNOW what to do, Frank."
Frank hrrmphed and straightened in an exaggerated mockery of Margaret's gesture, his mouth puckering in a self-assured expression as his head tilted wildly from side to side, a crudely enacted swagger as he boasted, "Well-- well of COURSE I know what to do, Margaret, I'll just, find one of those creatures, I'll walk right up to him and tell him just what I think of him and his sort, I'll say--"
"Yes, Major Burns?" Frank was cut off, and the two majors took their eyes off of one another to face front once more, where Irene was standing, smiling politely.
"I... um..." he sputtered, and Margaret shakily took his arm.
"Don't kill me." Frank squeaked, "Take her!" he shoved Margaret in front of him, or more accurately, hid behind her.
Irene laughed, "Major Burns, I'd be fascinated to listen to your ideas on 'my sort' some time, and you needn't fear any retribution for your beliefs. I can assure you with confidence it's probably nothing I haven't heard before. Now, be a gentleman to this nice young woman," she smiled at Margaret, her smile knowing but demure, "And escort her wherever it is she happens to be going. I've noticed the amount of... animal excrement in the area, and women shouldn't have to walk in that. But first, if you don't mind, could you tell me where Captain Pierce is?"
Frank bit his lip in fright at the speech, but hesitantly came out form behind Margaret again. "Um, he's... he's..."
"Coming, Frank," Hawkeye called from across the compound, Henry and himself leading the way back to camp, golf clubs bared over their shoulders like old pros, B.J. following behind with his arms crossed.
Irene turned around, her face beaming with a pleasant smile, "Oh, good evening, Captain," she nodded, "Colonel." She added, to Henry.
Henry, unsteadied, raised a little salute, but Hawkeye simply returned the smile, "Come on, I'll let you in on a little secret: We've got our own little masquerade going, we're not actually part of the Army. We're not even doctors, we just played them in a movie once."
Irene, charmed, laughed.
"It's Hawkeye," the Captain announced, "And Henry."
"Very well, Hawkeye, Henry," she tilted her head toward the sullen-looking man behind the other two. "B.J., wasn't it?"
"It was," he replied.
She began to address him further, but, seeing that he was uncomfortable, she let it pass. "Henry," she started again, bright as a penny and eyes curious, "How long have you been up?"
"Ah, uh, hour, hour and a half..." Henry trailed off, unsure why she was asking him and thus a little anxious.
Irene nodded, "Oh, to be young again, and able to wake up with the sunset," she sighed nostalgically, "But speaking of waking up, may I ask how my husband's faring?"
Hawkeye came closer and took Irene's hand, "I don't know how to tell you this, but I think he's dead."
Irene laughed and squeezed Hawkeye's hand gently. Her hand was freezing cold, and as her beautiful voice echoed across the compound a cool breeze blew and chilled the area. "Yes, I figured as much, but how else?"
Hawkeye stepped back, "Honestly, I have no idea. Remember, he's only the second vampire I've ever examined. But now that you're up, I'd suggest that we go see."
Henry lingered a bit as the other two started into the post-op.
Irene turned back, noticing that he wasn't following. "Henry," she said soothingly, "Don't worry. The sun passing overhead has a habit of putting the beast back into its place. I doubt he'll be so violent again this evening."
Henry's eyebrows rose and he reached up and rubbed his neck where the Seneschal, in his ravings of last evening, had bitten him. "Thank the lord for the daytime, then," he muttered to himself and followed after Hawkeye and Irene.
~
"Happy days are here again..." sang the P.A. system, and in the last throes of daylight all the lamps began to sparkle which had been taken out the night before. Some lit the compound where people began to congregate before moving into the officer's club.
Henry woke up, and, he being somewhat drained from the scuffle last night, the blood began to flow along with the booze. Not necessarily separate from one another.
And soon, the other vampires having not woken up yet, Henry was out on the golf course, sparsely lit with lamps, impressing the swamprats with his par- four shooting of the par-37, mile and a half long course.
"Hey, not bad, Henry," Hawkeye grinned.
"Yeah," Henry laughed, "A little bit of practice, I'll be hitting these things back to my favorite course back home." Henry whistled to see the golf ball disappear into the dark night air, and tipped his hat back, crossing his legs and leaning on the club.
The three looked up and nodded as Colonel Potter trotted his new mount, whom he'd decided, with Radar's help, to call Sophie, up a makeshift trail he'd constructed during the day, giving in to the air of enforced leisure the rest of the camp was enjoying. Paperwork could wait. The army wasn't expecting it from them, anyway. And, true to the seneschal's word, no casualties had come through since that first batch that night.
Margaret Houlihan gave Frank Burns a grope on her way through post-op, and he, recognizing the signal, went "for a coffee break."
His ferret face scrunched up in irritation as he 'accidentally' caught up with his female counterpart outside. The music was playing, there was laughter from the O.C., the loud smack of a golf ball being slammed with superhuman strength, and, finally, the clopping of hooves across the compound. The two majors turned their heads as their new C.O. passed them, looking down at them with a smile and a salute. In time, they raised their hands in a shaky return of the gesture, watching him as he disappeared behind a tent.
"A zoo, Margaret!" Frank whimpered, "This place is falling apart!"
"I agree, Frank." Margaret huffed, "It's disgraceful!"
"Margaret! What can we do? The phones won't work except for that... that... ghoul of theirs! And you saw what happened to the Father and that Loony when they tried to get out of here by jeep!"
Margaret coughed, and straightened her back decisively. "A real man would KNOW what to do, Frank."
Frank hrrmphed and straightened in an exaggerated mockery of Margaret's gesture, his mouth puckering in a self-assured expression as his head tilted wildly from side to side, a crudely enacted swagger as he boasted, "Well-- well of COURSE I know what to do, Margaret, I'll just, find one of those creatures, I'll walk right up to him and tell him just what I think of him and his sort, I'll say--"
"Yes, Major Burns?" Frank was cut off, and the two majors took their eyes off of one another to face front once more, where Irene was standing, smiling politely.
"I... um..." he sputtered, and Margaret shakily took his arm.
"Don't kill me." Frank squeaked, "Take her!" he shoved Margaret in front of him, or more accurately, hid behind her.
Irene laughed, "Major Burns, I'd be fascinated to listen to your ideas on 'my sort' some time, and you needn't fear any retribution for your beliefs. I can assure you with confidence it's probably nothing I haven't heard before. Now, be a gentleman to this nice young woman," she smiled at Margaret, her smile knowing but demure, "And escort her wherever it is she happens to be going. I've noticed the amount of... animal excrement in the area, and women shouldn't have to walk in that. But first, if you don't mind, could you tell me where Captain Pierce is?"
Frank bit his lip in fright at the speech, but hesitantly came out form behind Margaret again. "Um, he's... he's..."
"Coming, Frank," Hawkeye called from across the compound, Henry and himself leading the way back to camp, golf clubs bared over their shoulders like old pros, B.J. following behind with his arms crossed.
Irene turned around, her face beaming with a pleasant smile, "Oh, good evening, Captain," she nodded, "Colonel." She added, to Henry.
Henry, unsteadied, raised a little salute, but Hawkeye simply returned the smile, "Come on, I'll let you in on a little secret: We've got our own little masquerade going, we're not actually part of the Army. We're not even doctors, we just played them in a movie once."
Irene, charmed, laughed.
"It's Hawkeye," the Captain announced, "And Henry."
"Very well, Hawkeye, Henry," she tilted her head toward the sullen-looking man behind the other two. "B.J., wasn't it?"
"It was," he replied.
She began to address him further, but, seeing that he was uncomfortable, she let it pass. "Henry," she started again, bright as a penny and eyes curious, "How long have you been up?"
"Ah, uh, hour, hour and a half..." Henry trailed off, unsure why she was asking him and thus a little anxious.
Irene nodded, "Oh, to be young again, and able to wake up with the sunset," she sighed nostalgically, "But speaking of waking up, may I ask how my husband's faring?"
Hawkeye came closer and took Irene's hand, "I don't know how to tell you this, but I think he's dead."
Irene laughed and squeezed Hawkeye's hand gently. Her hand was freezing cold, and as her beautiful voice echoed across the compound a cool breeze blew and chilled the area. "Yes, I figured as much, but how else?"
Hawkeye stepped back, "Honestly, I have no idea. Remember, he's only the second vampire I've ever examined. But now that you're up, I'd suggest that we go see."
Henry lingered a bit as the other two started into the post-op.
Irene turned back, noticing that he wasn't following. "Henry," she said soothingly, "Don't worry. The sun passing overhead has a habit of putting the beast back into its place. I doubt he'll be so violent again this evening."
Henry's eyebrows rose and he reached up and rubbed his neck where the Seneschal, in his ravings of last evening, had bitten him. "Thank the lord for the daytime, then," he muttered to himself and followed after Hawkeye and Irene.
~