Chapter Eighteen

(A/N: Wow, two chapters in one day. Boy, you suckers're lucky. Why, back in my day, we had to wait a year in between chappy updates, and we had to walk twelve miles uphill through the snow in bare feet just ta read 'em! But reviewin' was the hardest part! We had to write reviews in blood on germ infested paper, and then stick 'em in the mouthes o' rabid sleepin' turtles so they'd get ta the author fast enough! So you young'ns oughta do more of it! ...Review!)

First of all, as per usual, Hawkeye and BJ collapsed onto their cots. Just as BJ opened his mouth to ask, Margaret stormed through the door and shouted

"Why didn't you tell him?!"

Hawkeye looked at her levelly. Something, possibly insanity, sparked behind his blue eyes as he answered

"Look, I know it could possibly get someone else hurt, but I want five minutes alone with that guy before we turn him in to the MPs."

"What?!"

Margaret and BJ cried in unision, staring at him.

"What are you degenerates doing to Major Houlihan?"

Frank asked angrily as he marched in, looking slightly out of breath, probably from having come running at the sound of Margaret's possibly distressed voice. For a moment he looked hurt as he glanced at her, but then glared at the two captains as Hawkeye answered crankily

"Sorry to burst your bubble, Frank, but Margaret's with another man who is, frankly, better looking, has a better personality, and he's one helluva kisser." Margaret's jaw dropped in indignation and, again, she remembered the kiss. She was trying not to turn pink until he added "He looks like a monkey, acts like a goat in heat, and has lips like a fish."

Flushing with rage, Frank shouted

"That's it, Pierce! I've had enough of your bull! You're gonna get it next!"

Hawkeye and BJ sat up rigid. "What do you mean, I'm gonna get it next?!" He was furious. Frank's mouth just shot open as if he couldn't believe he had said that, and he ran out again.

"Perfect opportunity."

Hawkeye said simply, leaning back on his cot and draining another martini.

"Hawkeye, he could get you killed! And you want to risk that, all for some time alone with Sergeant Demorest to try and beat the shit out of him before we turn him into the MPs?"

"Yes, Margaret. That's exactly it."

"Besides... we need to figure out how, in the name of all that is holy, he was the one who caused that plane crash!"

Margaret voiced again, and caused a moment of silence as everyone thought about this. Hawkeye was drinking, BJ was thinking, Margaret was worrying and Frank was somewhere scurrying.

"Look, Hawk, I know you're upset that he tried to kill Henry. Twice, no less. And he shot Klinger, for god's sake. But you can't risk your life just to throw a punch or two."

"It goes farther than that!" Hawkeye shouted, standing up and glaring down at his friend. Then he turned and hurled his martini glass at the door, walking out over the shattered fragments a moment later.

He wanted to go visit Klinger, see if he might possibly be awake yet (which was highly unlikely) but decided against it. People were not what he wanted right now, and they probably wouldn't want him either, because he was just in one of those moods. Hawkeye went up to the top of the hill that overlooked the camp and stared down at the little moving lumps of khaki. Hell, that's what they all were. Just little lumps that could be pushed strategically around Korea. And when one lump was gone, they shipped over another batch of young lumps to replace it...

"Great." Hawkeye muttered irritably to himself. "I'm thinking about lumps now." His thoughts turned to the plane crash. The only other one who knew why it upset him was Klinger. Would he tell anyone?

~*~

"Demorest, you've got to desert!"

Frank whispered urgently to his partner in crime, but the sergeant was planted firmly on his bed. "No. If I'm going to the stockade, I'm going to the stockade."

"But you're so brave! So cunning! Why admit defeat like that?"

The tall man shrugged, looking annoyed by Frank's constant whining. "The army always catches up with deserters. If I go, I'll have gone trying to take care of that asshole, and that's what counts. He ruined my life, so I'll be looking for another chance to ruin his before I'm shipped off."

There was silence between the two men for a moment, and then Frank said

"They're not going to tell."

"What?"

Something like pain was evident in Frank's voice as he said "I was... watching them, earlier."

"Watching who?"

"Pierce... and Hunnicutt." For some odd reason, he left out the fact that he had seen Margaret with them. "That jerk, Pierce, wants to be alone with you before they turn you in."

Demorest's face wrinkled with disgust.

"You mean he's... one of those?"

"Nonono, hehehe, hehe..." Frank said, giggling nervously. "He wants to try and beat you up, or something... I think it's the plane crash that's getting to him..."

Demorest looked up, back to his old self, and sneered. "What the hell's the matter with you today, Burns? You're sounding awful smart."

Frank looked like he had just sucked on a lemon. Glaring, he stalked out the door and muttered "Mother always said I was smarter in a bad mood."