Disclaimer – I have been talking with Fox…I offered them everything I own, and a few things I don't, in exchange for M*A*S*H, but they aren't going for it. Negotiations continue. I do, however, own Victoria, she's my creation, she's got my name. Please don't steal her.
Before you yell at me for having multiple stories running, just think – more slash for everyone!
By the way, I think I've uncovered a long standing M*A*S*H mystery – how old is Hawkeye? In the episode "Sometimes You Hear The Bullet" – one of my favourites, so sad – Tommy Gillis says he and Hawkeye have know each other for 15 years, since grade 5. If we assume that Hawkeye was the normal age of 10 in grade 5, then 10 plus 15 is 25. So I conclude that Hawkeye is 25 years of age during the first year of the war. Just thought you might be interested.
The Matchmaker
Chapter 1: Meet The New Girl
"Ah, nectar of the gods," Hawkeye announced, settling onto his bunk with a glassful of torpedo juice. Across from him, Trapper grinned. "Finest kind," he agreed, raising his glass in toast. "Cheers," Hawkeye said, before knocking back the martini. He coughed and wheezed for a while, finally managing to choke out, "Smooth."
Shaking himself, Hawkeye rose to his feet, strolling out the door of the Swamp. Trapper followed lazily, pausing to return a stray football, sending the ball spiraling perfectly towards Father Mulcahy, while Hawkeye headed for the grassy field beyond the camp.
As he lay back in the warm, golden grass, Trapper by his side, Hawkeye closed his eyes, wanting nothing more than to just disappear among the grass, and never return. The next minute, however, he was sitting bolt upright, head tilted to one side, listening intently.
The grass rustled loudly, close by. As Hawkeye stood, gazing about warily, a flash of purple ran past him, towards the camp. "What the hell?" he mused out loud, staring at Trapper, who shrugged. They walked back to camp, at a rather brisk pace.
A young girl stood at the signpost, hovering indecisively. She was petite, dressed in a long black skirt and flowing purple shirt. At barely five feet tall, she had a certain air about her – almost as though if she really wanted too, or had too, she could knock you on your ass.
"Hi honey, can we help you?" Trapper asked, always on the watch for a pretty face. Hawkeye shot him a disgusted look – the girl looked to be about 14. She turned, studying the captains with bottomless black eyes, the perfect match for her smooth, pale skin and short – cropped black hair.
"I'm not sure," she replied, her voice pleasantly melodious. "Could you tell me where I am?" Trapper shot her a grin. "Sure, honey. You're at the 4077th M*A*S*H. I'm Trapper John McIntyre, and my silent friend here is Hawkeye Pierce."
The girl regarded them with amusement. "Cool names," she commented, eyes flashing over Hawkeye, who still stood motionless and silent. "My name is Victoria Sheppard, by the way." She offered a hand to Trapper, who raised it to his lips. "Pleased to meet you."
"What are you doing here?" Hawkeye demanded, finding his tongue. Trapper elbowed him. "Excuse my friend here, he majored in crudeness." Victoria laughed. "That's OK; it's a reasonable question." Hawkeye frowned. "Well, do you have a reasonable answer?" Trapper glared. "Hawk…"
Raking a hand through her hair, Victoria sighed. "Actually, I'm not sure how I got here. All I remember is waking up in that field." She pointed to the field where she had been running. "I thought I might come here, so you could tell me where I am. Something's wrong though, I think, because the last thing I remember was Tokyo…something tells me I'm not in Tokyo anymore." Hawkeye gaped. "I hate to burst your bubble, but you're in Korea. In the middle of a war."
As if to confirm Hawkeye's announcement, there was a piercing whistle, followed by an explosion. "See, bombs and everything!" Trapper shouted. "C'mon." He grabbed Victoria's hand, pulling her after Hawkeye, who was headed for the nearest tent.
They stumbled into the Supply tent, as another shell hit, closer this time. Hawkeye rolled his eyes in disgust as he recognized where he was. "Why the hell do I always head for the stupid Supply Tent?" he groaned, sliding to the floor and burying his face in his hands. "The dumb door always get stuck shut, and I know that, but I always come in here. Why can't I ever run for the nurses shower?"
Victoria poked interestedly at the supplies. "Wow, I've never heard of some of this stuff…I can't even pronounce this one…what does M*A*S*H stand for anyways?" Trapper, who was stretched out on the floor, staring at the ceiling, looked up. "Mobile Army Surgical Hospital," he replied. "You guys are surgeons?" Trapper nodded. "Hey, can I hang around here? My mother was a surgical nurse, she taught me the basics. I was staying with her in Tokyo, she worked at Tokyo General. I would have stayed back home, but there were no relatives to take me in. My mum was killed a month ago." Hawkeye looked at the young girl, blue eyes wells of sympathetic comfort. He knew what it was like to lose a mother. "What about your father?" he asked. Victoria shrugged. "He left before I was born. He didn't want a kid…he and my mother were only 18 – two years older than me - when I was born. Mum didn't like to talk about him."
Hawkeye stared. This girl of 16 was alone in a strange, war torn country. Her mother dead, her father unknown, and yet she seemed to have a positive outlook. "What do you say, Trap?" he asked, grinning at his friend. "Can she help us?" Trapper nodded. "We can always use extra help in OR. Henry will say OK, but Majors Burns and Houlihan won't like it."
"When do Hot Lips and Ferret Face ever like anything we do?" Hawkeye countered. "Good point," Trapper agreed. "Now, onto more important things. Where are we gonna keep her?" Hawkeye mused. "We have an extra cot in the Swamp, she can stay there," Trapper offered. Hawkeye shook his head. "No way. We both know that nothing would happen, but Henry wouldn't like it, and Frank would hate it. He call us perverts now, imagine what he'd say if we had a 16 year old girl in our tent."
Victoria made a face. "The Swamp?" she asked. "Our tent," Hawkeye replied. "Home to fleas, rats, lice…and then there's us…and then Frank." Victoria laughed appreciatively. "Sounds like my room," she commented.
Hawkeye stood. "Sounds like the shelling has stopped. Let's go talk to Henry." The trio walked out of the Supply Tent, preparing to map out the life of a young girl.