Face in the mirror, a m*a*s*h fanfic

Face in the Mirror

Margaret has a vision interrupted, or does she?

Margaret sat at her dressing table, reading the spells she and her sister Elizabeth had scribbled into her childhood journal.

She smiled remembering how they had carried these out. Her favourite spells, the notes on which she was reading now, were the love spells. Those that apparently prompted a vision of your future husband to appear in the mirror. Every year she and Elizabeth would try them, and whilst they never worked, you could bet next Halloween they would give them another go.

At first Margaret had been dismissive. Not believing in some silly hocus pocus; but as midnight approached her resolve had weakened.

'Oh why not' she reasoned to herself 'it's just a silly game, a bit of harmless fun'.

So there she was, at a minute to midnight, trying to decide which spell to try. She remembered the hair combing spell:

Hair Combing: Stand before a mirror in a candlelit room and comb your hair. You will soon see the image of your lover-to-be standing behind you.

That one had never yielded anything in the way of insight. So that was out. Margaret wracked her brains and remembered one that had something to with an apple. Sure enough there was one Elizabeth had scrawled down.

Apple Slices: At midnight sit down in front of a mirror and cut an apple into nine slices. Eat each slice from the tip of the knife. Before you eat the ninth slice, the image of your future lover will appear in the mirror and ask you for the final piece of apple.

That might have been better, Margaret thought. The she laughed, how on earth was she going to get an apple in the middle of the night in a Korean MASH unit.

Just when she was about to give up a slip of paper fluttered to the floor. Curious Margaret picked it up and unfolded it. Yet another spell. It seemed rather daft, but what had she got to loose. It was written in Margaret's own hand too. She took that as a sign.

"Walking Backwards" She read. It sounded rather intriguing.

"Standing outside and holding a mirror in your hand..." Well that was easy enough, Margaret decided. So she picked up the mirror from her dressing table, threw on her coat and went outside.

Walk backwards while saying:

Ah maybe not. Much as Margaret wanted to try out the spell she certainly didn't want to look foolish.

Then after realising there was no one else around Margaret reasoned that no one would see her so it would be fine.

Right, she thought, the allotted moment approaching, lets go. She started to walk in the direction of the men's latrine. Away from the tents full of potentially prying eyes.

After getting the hang of walking backwards Margaret read aloud the chant.

"Round and round, O stars so fair!
Ye travel and search out everywhere.
I pray you, sweet stars; now show to me
this night who my future husband shall be!"

The image of your future spouse will appear in the mirror.

Having taken a breath and wondering when the vision would appear. Margaret felt someone watching her. In the mirror she saw Hawkeye raised an eyebrow.

"Margaret." He said in a gentle voice, as if she might be insane "What are you doing?"

Margaret turned around and pulled the mirror behind her back.

"It's nothing Pierce, don't be so noisy."

"Well okay then if that's what you want. I was just curious... do you always wander around on Halloween carrying a mirror and chanting?"

"Yes Hawkeye, it's an old family tradition." Margaret said with a smile, trying to sound more collect than she felt.

"Well Goodnight." She called to him beginning to walk back to her tent. "And Happy Halloween."

"Good night Margaret." He replied, with a smile she did not recognise.

Margaret shut the door of her tent and put the mirror back on the dressing table. A twinge of annoyance flashed through her; stupid Pierce ruining her spell. If only she'd seen him coming... seen him in the mirror.

Well she had in a way; his handsome face had been lit perfectly by the moonlight and framed in the mirror.

'No' Margaret thought with a laugh. 'Surely not'

Then she remembered his smile.

'Well you can never tell with Pierce'

Author's note: I wrote this story in July; whilst it might not be seasonally appropriate the story might be forgotten by October.

This story was influenced by my renewed interest in witchcraft. Scrying (The act/art of seeing into the future) is a long standing tradition.

The spells featured here are genuine examples, not just made up. (Well someone made them up, just not me). Having no personal experience of these spells, I cannot claim their effectiveness.