Radar paced the near bank of the little stream near camp and muttered.
He'd been running across the compound for the last who-knows-how-long, and was starting to get the impression that he'd just been pooka-ed. From the mess tent he'd followed Hawkeye's direction toward the office, where an MP had told him that yes, Henry'd been there, but had left for the supply tent, where Radar went and found Nurse Bigelow inventorying supplies, who told him that Henry'd begged a pair of stockings out of the already dear supply from her and was more than likely at her tent with her tentmate Leslie, whom Radar then hunted down only to have her make her excuses to run off to post-op, having gotten a message from Major Houlihan that she was needed, but say that yes, Henry'd been there, but he'd gone off to the stream to pick up some worms in case there was anyplace to do a little fishing near the Evac.
And all the while, Bantelhopp had been unusually silent toward him. Not that he'd expected any help from the Chimerae in trying to find his friend; yet as he tread the loam he began to suspect something of the taciturn dragon. And, after a moment's more thought, he thought he suspected what that something was.
"Oh, am I gonna get you for this," Radar muttered at the dragon.
Bantelhopp, perhaps put off his guard by the threat, or perhaps just so used to forecasting the familiar sound that it just slipped out, chirruped, "Chopper."
"Chopper?"
"Oop." Bantelhopp frowned, wrapping his long tail around his beak in a sheepish manner.
"Colonel Blake...!" Radar realized, and ran off, slipping down into the mud as a result of the sudden burst of action, but springing back up and bolting across back toward the camp.
~
"Pierce, Hunnicutt," Joles chuckled, drawing them away from the group that trundled up to the chopper pad. "I've got a little going-away present for you."
"But we didn't get you anything," Hawkeye complained with a wide grin on his face as he watched the Seneschal lean closer, looking aside to the rest of the group as if afraid that certain of its members might hear.
"Next time you get a chance," Joles explained, "Ask Majors Burns and Houlihan about," he leaned a little closer, "Kimee, the housegirl they met on their R&R. They'll know who you mean." The innuendo was thick in his voice, causing four eyebrows on two doctors to rise in perfect unison.
"Oh, Joly, you didn't," Irene called, her head having snapped around during the course of the conversation.
Joles chuckled and leaned back away from the group. "What ears that woman has..." he mumbled admiringly, "I could nibble them for hours," he added, ostensibly for the sake of Hawkeye and B.J., but fully aware that she could hear him, as well. Then, "out loud," he called, "I've told you before, Irene, it's easier to cover up existing memories if you give them something... interesting... to remember."
Irene shook her head in distaste, but smiled anyway.
"Well," Potter was saying to Henry, the two sometime C.O.s of the M*A*S*H 4077th walking along ahead of the rest until they came to pause on the little platform around the waiting chopper. "It's certainly been an interesting meeting, Colonel Blake. If there's one good thing I could say about it, it'd probably be it's been a real shot in the arm to these people to know that a man can come out of this war alive," he nodded vaguely, "Even if he's dead."
Henry wasn't really sure whether or not that was a compliment, but, as it sounded intended as one, he reached out a hand and shook Colonel Potter's, "Thank you, sir. I know I'll be leaving these folks in good hands."
Sherman Potter nodded graciously but curtly, stepping aside as Father Mulcahy and Irene stepped up onto the platform, followed shortly by Hawkeye, B.J. and Joles. The priest stepped forward and moved to clap Henry firmly on the arm in a friendly gesture.
"Good bye, Henry," he spoke, "And good luck."
Henry nodded, "You too, father. If what he's been telling me is true," he jerked a thumb shortly in the direction of the Seneschal and gave a low whistle, "You've got your work cut out for you."
Leslie Scorch, meanwhile, had come up from behind the group of people, whispering something to Hawkeye concerning Radar's whereabouts. Hawkeye nodded and whispered something back, at which the Lieutenant flushed red and went slightly open-mouthed. Moving up through the crowd, she came to the arms of the man she'd been glad to consider her lover, married, undead, or otherwise. She slipped easily into his grasp and pecked a kiss on his startled lips before leaning further up to whisper to him.
Henry's eyebrow seemed to attempt to reach orbit around the rest of his face. He looked at Hawkeye, who give him a wink and an O.K. gesture with his hand, grinning like the maniac he was.
While the others discreetly made themselves occupied staring elsewhere, Henry shrugged, leaned over Leslie, and Kissed her. With a capital K. If you know what I mean. If you don't, the hint of red that Henry deftly wiped from the corner of his mouth while Leslie was trying to compose herself might give you a hint. He held her up when her knees went weak, the peculiar sensation that accompanies vampiric kissing being every bit as... intense... as Pierce had mentioned. She regained her feet and gaped at Henry as she hesitantly stepped back.
Henry smiled faintly, "Yes, well, Lieutenant, I'll check into that when I get to the 125th," he babbled. "Hey, if... you're ever in Illinois, you look me up, okay?"
Leslie smiled back, "You think you'll be in the phone book?"
Henry lifted a finger, "Good point, um, I'll look you up, then, instead."
Leslie shook her head at the ridiculous nature of the last comment. "Good bye, Henry," she chuckled.
When the assembly realized that the couple's little moment was over, they turned their various attentions back to the matter at hand. B.J. strode up to the Lieutenant-Colonel next, rocking up onto the balls of his feet antsily.
"It was good to meet you, Colonel Blake. Now I'll have a face to go along with all the stories Hawkeye's been telling."
Henry chuckled and was about to speak when B.J. continued:
"I, uh, hope you don't mind if, under the circumstances, I don't ask you to call up my wife and kid when you get back to the states. In fact," he laughed, a nervous laugh to cover up a certain bitterness, "I'd feel a lot better if you just kind of left the state of California alone, altogether."
"Right," Henry nodded, confused, but willing to go with it, "No California. Got it."
Hawkeye came up beside B.J., and put a hand on his shoulder, "Down, Beej."
B.J. turned away, leaving Hawkeye and Henry facing one another.
Irene was approaching Joles' side as he climbed into the chopper, "Do you know what you're doing?" she asked him cordially, a hint of laughter in her voice.
Hawkeye smiled at Henry, eyes brimming a little with tears. "Get the hell out of here, Henry."
"I think I can get us there," Joles replied, in all seriousness.
To the startled expression Henry gave his cursing, Hawkeye added, "And get home safely, this time. I don't want to know what you'd come back here as next..."
Sparky ran up the hill and loaded the gear into the back of the chopper before climbing in, himself.
The two surgeons hugged tightly, then parted.
Irene ran around the chopper as it began to start up, and climbed in, squeezing next to Joles to leave room for Henry in the front of the machine.
Henry frowned a moment, hand reaching up to hold his hat in place as he looked around.
Hawkeye knew who he was waiting for. He reached out and batted him on the shoulder, a tear spilling down his face. "Get out of here!" he yelled over the increasing noise of the chopperblades.
A semi-audible yell of similar nature was heard from Joles inside the chopper.
Henry smiled faintly, nodded, clapped Hawkeye back on the opposite shoulder, and climbed into the helicopter, buckling up and shifting to half- hold the Toreador on his lap as the machine lifted off.
The group still on the chopperpad crouched down against the winds. The odd arm waved, the odd eye squinted up into the night as Henry Blake's features became quickly obscured in the darkness.
While the air was still stirred by the whirling blades, while the dust was still settling from the nocturnal lift-off, Radar O'Reilly came running up onto the platform, lifting his hand over his eyes and peering up into the night.
Hawkeye turned and watched the Corporal, pity for the poor boy wrenching at his heart as he watched the emotions flash across his face: anger... despair... all finally fading into an intense worry, eyebrows knitting together in the centers, mouth contracting into a frown.
After this look had settled across Radar's features, and as the group had begun to mill about again, preparing for descent, Hawkeye approached Radar.
"Look, I'm sorry, Ra--" he began.
"You didn't tell him, did you?"
Hawkeye paused. "Tell him what?"
"About the thing... with the blood..."
Hawkeye looked down. "No, Radar, I didn't."
Radar looked up again, and nodded. "Good," he affirmed.
After another moment, he turned his face toward Hawkeye's. "I wouldn't want him to think... I don't like him... just because he's a--"
Hawkeye nodded, and put an arm around Radar. "He knows, Radar. He knows."
The group on the chopper pad was engulfed in silence. A silence too thick to not be cut by something big. Radar wasn't the only one not surprised by the announcement.
"Attention. Attention all personnel. Ambulances in the compound. Looks like the war's still in town after all, folks."
~
He'd been running across the compound for the last who-knows-how-long, and was starting to get the impression that he'd just been pooka-ed. From the mess tent he'd followed Hawkeye's direction toward the office, where an MP had told him that yes, Henry'd been there, but had left for the supply tent, where Radar went and found Nurse Bigelow inventorying supplies, who told him that Henry'd begged a pair of stockings out of the already dear supply from her and was more than likely at her tent with her tentmate Leslie, whom Radar then hunted down only to have her make her excuses to run off to post-op, having gotten a message from Major Houlihan that she was needed, but say that yes, Henry'd been there, but he'd gone off to the stream to pick up some worms in case there was anyplace to do a little fishing near the Evac.
And all the while, Bantelhopp had been unusually silent toward him. Not that he'd expected any help from the Chimerae in trying to find his friend; yet as he tread the loam he began to suspect something of the taciturn dragon. And, after a moment's more thought, he thought he suspected what that something was.
"Oh, am I gonna get you for this," Radar muttered at the dragon.
Bantelhopp, perhaps put off his guard by the threat, or perhaps just so used to forecasting the familiar sound that it just slipped out, chirruped, "Chopper."
"Chopper?"
"Oop." Bantelhopp frowned, wrapping his long tail around his beak in a sheepish manner.
"Colonel Blake...!" Radar realized, and ran off, slipping down into the mud as a result of the sudden burst of action, but springing back up and bolting across back toward the camp.
~
"Pierce, Hunnicutt," Joles chuckled, drawing them away from the group that trundled up to the chopper pad. "I've got a little going-away present for you."
"But we didn't get you anything," Hawkeye complained with a wide grin on his face as he watched the Seneschal lean closer, looking aside to the rest of the group as if afraid that certain of its members might hear.
"Next time you get a chance," Joles explained, "Ask Majors Burns and Houlihan about," he leaned a little closer, "Kimee, the housegirl they met on their R&R. They'll know who you mean." The innuendo was thick in his voice, causing four eyebrows on two doctors to rise in perfect unison.
"Oh, Joly, you didn't," Irene called, her head having snapped around during the course of the conversation.
Joles chuckled and leaned back away from the group. "What ears that woman has..." he mumbled admiringly, "I could nibble them for hours," he added, ostensibly for the sake of Hawkeye and B.J., but fully aware that she could hear him, as well. Then, "out loud," he called, "I've told you before, Irene, it's easier to cover up existing memories if you give them something... interesting... to remember."
Irene shook her head in distaste, but smiled anyway.
"Well," Potter was saying to Henry, the two sometime C.O.s of the M*A*S*H 4077th walking along ahead of the rest until they came to pause on the little platform around the waiting chopper. "It's certainly been an interesting meeting, Colonel Blake. If there's one good thing I could say about it, it'd probably be it's been a real shot in the arm to these people to know that a man can come out of this war alive," he nodded vaguely, "Even if he's dead."
Henry wasn't really sure whether or not that was a compliment, but, as it sounded intended as one, he reached out a hand and shook Colonel Potter's, "Thank you, sir. I know I'll be leaving these folks in good hands."
Sherman Potter nodded graciously but curtly, stepping aside as Father Mulcahy and Irene stepped up onto the platform, followed shortly by Hawkeye, B.J. and Joles. The priest stepped forward and moved to clap Henry firmly on the arm in a friendly gesture.
"Good bye, Henry," he spoke, "And good luck."
Henry nodded, "You too, father. If what he's been telling me is true," he jerked a thumb shortly in the direction of the Seneschal and gave a low whistle, "You've got your work cut out for you."
Leslie Scorch, meanwhile, had come up from behind the group of people, whispering something to Hawkeye concerning Radar's whereabouts. Hawkeye nodded and whispered something back, at which the Lieutenant flushed red and went slightly open-mouthed. Moving up through the crowd, she came to the arms of the man she'd been glad to consider her lover, married, undead, or otherwise. She slipped easily into his grasp and pecked a kiss on his startled lips before leaning further up to whisper to him.
Henry's eyebrow seemed to attempt to reach orbit around the rest of his face. He looked at Hawkeye, who give him a wink and an O.K. gesture with his hand, grinning like the maniac he was.
While the others discreetly made themselves occupied staring elsewhere, Henry shrugged, leaned over Leslie, and Kissed her. With a capital K. If you know what I mean. If you don't, the hint of red that Henry deftly wiped from the corner of his mouth while Leslie was trying to compose herself might give you a hint. He held her up when her knees went weak, the peculiar sensation that accompanies vampiric kissing being every bit as... intense... as Pierce had mentioned. She regained her feet and gaped at Henry as she hesitantly stepped back.
Henry smiled faintly, "Yes, well, Lieutenant, I'll check into that when I get to the 125th," he babbled. "Hey, if... you're ever in Illinois, you look me up, okay?"
Leslie smiled back, "You think you'll be in the phone book?"
Henry lifted a finger, "Good point, um, I'll look you up, then, instead."
Leslie shook her head at the ridiculous nature of the last comment. "Good bye, Henry," she chuckled.
When the assembly realized that the couple's little moment was over, they turned their various attentions back to the matter at hand. B.J. strode up to the Lieutenant-Colonel next, rocking up onto the balls of his feet antsily.
"It was good to meet you, Colonel Blake. Now I'll have a face to go along with all the stories Hawkeye's been telling."
Henry chuckled and was about to speak when B.J. continued:
"I, uh, hope you don't mind if, under the circumstances, I don't ask you to call up my wife and kid when you get back to the states. In fact," he laughed, a nervous laugh to cover up a certain bitterness, "I'd feel a lot better if you just kind of left the state of California alone, altogether."
"Right," Henry nodded, confused, but willing to go with it, "No California. Got it."
Hawkeye came up beside B.J., and put a hand on his shoulder, "Down, Beej."
B.J. turned away, leaving Hawkeye and Henry facing one another.
Irene was approaching Joles' side as he climbed into the chopper, "Do you know what you're doing?" she asked him cordially, a hint of laughter in her voice.
Hawkeye smiled at Henry, eyes brimming a little with tears. "Get the hell out of here, Henry."
"I think I can get us there," Joles replied, in all seriousness.
To the startled expression Henry gave his cursing, Hawkeye added, "And get home safely, this time. I don't want to know what you'd come back here as next..."
Sparky ran up the hill and loaded the gear into the back of the chopper before climbing in, himself.
The two surgeons hugged tightly, then parted.
Irene ran around the chopper as it began to start up, and climbed in, squeezing next to Joles to leave room for Henry in the front of the machine.
Henry frowned a moment, hand reaching up to hold his hat in place as he looked around.
Hawkeye knew who he was waiting for. He reached out and batted him on the shoulder, a tear spilling down his face. "Get out of here!" he yelled over the increasing noise of the chopperblades.
A semi-audible yell of similar nature was heard from Joles inside the chopper.
Henry smiled faintly, nodded, clapped Hawkeye back on the opposite shoulder, and climbed into the helicopter, buckling up and shifting to half- hold the Toreador on his lap as the machine lifted off.
The group still on the chopperpad crouched down against the winds. The odd arm waved, the odd eye squinted up into the night as Henry Blake's features became quickly obscured in the darkness.
While the air was still stirred by the whirling blades, while the dust was still settling from the nocturnal lift-off, Radar O'Reilly came running up onto the platform, lifting his hand over his eyes and peering up into the night.
Hawkeye turned and watched the Corporal, pity for the poor boy wrenching at his heart as he watched the emotions flash across his face: anger... despair... all finally fading into an intense worry, eyebrows knitting together in the centers, mouth contracting into a frown.
After this look had settled across Radar's features, and as the group had begun to mill about again, preparing for descent, Hawkeye approached Radar.
"Look, I'm sorry, Ra--" he began.
"You didn't tell him, did you?"
Hawkeye paused. "Tell him what?"
"About the thing... with the blood..."
Hawkeye looked down. "No, Radar, I didn't."
Radar looked up again, and nodded. "Good," he affirmed.
After another moment, he turned his face toward Hawkeye's. "I wouldn't want him to think... I don't like him... just because he's a--"
Hawkeye nodded, and put an arm around Radar. "He knows, Radar. He knows."
The group on the chopper pad was engulfed in silence. A silence too thick to not be cut by something big. Radar wasn't the only one not surprised by the announcement.
"Attention. Attention all personnel. Ambulances in the compound. Looks like the war's still in town after all, folks."
~