A/N: Next chapter is here! Thank you so much for all your reviews, I'm getting more feedback here that I get from my Creative Writing class at uni – but that's another story!
Story so far: Capt Sally Lester has arrived at 4077th as a medical volunteer from the British Army. She had a tough time settling in at first, but she's found her place in the camp thanks to her friendship with Mulcahy. After a hard day dealing with an accident in the Orphanage, Mulcahy found himself comforting a tired Sally, and she responded, naturally, with a hug and a peck on the cheek.
While the Priest's Away…
Three weeks after the explosion, the last of the injured children finally left the 4077th to go back to the makeshift Orphanage, the building of which was largely co-ordinated by Radar with his bartering skills. Mulcahy stood outside Post-Op watching the little girl being helped into the jeep. He was finding it hard to move on from the nightafterthe explosion, not just because of what he'd seen on the operating table, but because of his conversation with Sally which followed. Her kiss was meaningless, he knew that. But lying in his bed at night, he could recall the smell of her hair as he comforted her, the softness of her lips against his cheek. It rang alarm bells, and he'd been trying to avoid her as much as he could. They hadn't been back to see the children since the accident, and heavy casualties meant that Sally was continuously exhausted. Night after night he prayed for an answer, why did it still affect him? What did it mean? But nothing was forthcoming, and instead he put it down to the trauma of the incident and applied for a weekend pass to give him some space to think.
Sally was worried about Mulcahy. She'd become aware of the fact that he was trying to avoid her as much as possible and she couldn't work out what it was that she'd done. And so it came as somewhat of a shock to her as she walked to the mess tent to find her distant friend loading up a jeep with an overnight bag.
"Where are you running off to?" she asked with a smile.
"Oh, just Seoul for the weekend," he replied, not looking at her.
Sally sighed softly. She couldn't let this go on.
"Johnny, have I done something wrong?" she asked.
Mulcahy's head snapped up and Sally was surprised to see something close to panic in his eyes. "Why… why would you think that? What do you mean?"
"Well, ever since the accident I've hardly seen you."
"You've been busy, there's been a lot of wounded recently…" he started.
"No, it's more than that. Have I upset you or something? John, I'm worried. I miss you."
Mulcahy thought his heart was going to stop when she said those words.
"You… you … miss me? But I'm just here" he said, slowly.
"You're here," she said, putting her hands on his shoulders, "But you're not here, here - if you know what I mean. Look, whatever happened, whatever I might have done to upset you, I am truly sorry. Forgive me?"
He stood there, looking at her dark eyes pleading with him for forgiveness for a wrong which she had never done to him. What on earth was wrong with him? He pulled himself together and smiled at her eager face.
"Sally, it's nothing you've done. I'm tired, that's all. Exhausted. After this weekend I'll be better. I promise. Now, I have to get going."
Sally beamed at him. "You've no idea how relieved I am, John. I thought I'd done something to hurt you. Thank you!" She threw her arms around his necked and hugged him. "Now be careful, and have a good time. Don't do anything I wouldn't do!"
Mulcahy smiled at her warmly before climbing into the jeep and heading out of camp. And offering a silent prayer for forgiveness for the white lie he had just told Sally. The truth was that he didn't know if this weekend would make him better. For all he knew it could even make things worse.
oOo
Sally thrust her hands into her pockets and ambled slowly over to the mess tent. Two whole days without John, what would she do with herself? It was the first time she'd been without the man who had become her best friend in the three months since she'd arrived in Korea. With these thoughts worrying her head, she walked into the mess tent, and right into the middle of one of Winchester's rants.
"I ask you, dear God, what twisted sense of humour thought I would somehow enjoy being cooped up for the duration with the dregs of humanity whilst being shot at from all angles!" The veins of his head were beginning to pop as he stood at the end of the table preaching to all and sundry. Sally smiled to herself and slipped into a space beside BJ to watch the rest of the floorshow. Charles was obviously on a roll.
"I mean to say, how many people here actually have books. I mean REAL books, Pierce," he countered, as Hawkeye opened his mouth to answer, "I do not count those publications of disrepute, of which you seem so fond, as books even though they may have a spine."
"Jealousy's a terrible thing, Charles," said BJ. His comment was ignored as the rant continued.
"I don't ask for much," Winchester went on, "All I want is a little culture. Just occasionally. Some classical music, an artistic movie on occasion. Instead of the hackneyed Westerns of which we appear to have seen every one ever made…"
"RIGHT!" Colonel Potter was now on his feet. It seemed he could take anyone slandering the name of his camp for as long as they could speak, but when the attacked turned to his beloved westerns it was a step too far. "Winchester, I have sat her for the last ten minutes listening to every gripe your gut could spew up. We're all in the same boat here, we might not like everything about this place but, as your commanding officer, I'm ordering you. Put up or shut up."
Charles opened his mouth, ready to reply before he was pulled down sharply by Margaret. The Colonel continued.
"Now folks, it's three weeks 'til Christmas, and you're probably getting the idea that none of us are gonna be getting out of here in time. So I've been thinking about a way to make it a wee bit more cheery for us all. And Radar here," he gestured to Radar who blushed profusely and hid behind his clipboard, "Suggested that we have a Secret Santa. Now, if you don't know what that is, you soon will, because I'm gonna leave it to Radar now to sort you all out. Radar, they're all yours!"
Potter sat down again and Radar rose nervously to his feet. He gave a nervous little cough before embarking on what he had to say.
"OK, you guys. Well, you see here," he waved his upturned helmet in front of him, which on closer inspection proved to be full of slips of paper, "I have the name of everyone in camp and what you all have to do is pull a name out and whoever you pull out you have to buy a present for that person. And you're not allowed to tell anyone who you've got, because it's a secret. And you're not allowed to spend more than two dollars. OK?"
The company nodded in silent agreement.
"OK, good." Radar began to move amongst people letting them pull bits of paper from the hat. Charles took a piece of paper as Radar passed by, and immediately tried to attract attention.
"Radar, I wonder if I might have another name please. This one is not suitable."
"Gee, Major Winchester, sir. You can't pick who you get. You have to take pot luck."
"Yes," Charles replied slowly, "But it's not going to be much of a surprise if I have to buy a present for myself, you cretin!"
Radar puffed his cheeks in indignation, but his little brain couldn't think of a riposte fast enough, and he decided to continue with the job in hand. After he'd been round everyone, Radar found he still had one slip left, he looked at it puzzled for a moment. Then he remembered, Father Mulcahy was away for the weekend, so the slip would be his. He took it over to Colonel Potter for safekeeping.
"Sir, this is the Father's slip, can you look after it for him until he gets back?"
"Sure thing, Radar." Potter took the paper and Radar went on his way, satisfied his job was done. But Potter couldn't resist sneaking a peek at the name on the paper before tucking it in his pocket. He chuckled to himself before placing it out of harms way. Then he addressed his surgeons.
"Pierce and Hunnicut, if you can cut the quips for a minute I'd like to see you in my office. You too Lester." Charles opened his mouth to protest. "OK, and you Winchester. You might as well come along for the ride."
The four stood slowly, Charles still complaining about the lack ofmental stimulationin the camp, and trudged over their CO's tent. When they got there, they took up their positions in front ofthedesk. Potter was sitting behind it, and looked slightly serious for once.
"OK, you lot. We're looking at facing another Christmas here, and I want to make sure that it passes as painlessly as possible. I'll get straight to the point, I want two volunteers to organise a party for the camp."
The four surgeons looked at each other.
"I vote for Charles!"said Hawkeye, getting up to go out.
"I don't!" exclaimed Sally in horror. Charles glared at her. "Well, no offence," Sally began back pedalling, "But how could you possibly be able to know what the rest of the camp wanted in a party, a man of your taste and refinement?"
Charles nodded sagely. "Yeeees," he said thoughtfully. Hawkeye and BJ let her down however, by hooting with laughter at her ability to placate him.
"You two, give it up!" Sally threw a ball of paper at them, which made Hawkeye fall off his chair. "I vote for Hawkeye and BJ, and I think most others in the camp would too." she said decisively. Charles opened his mouth to disagree, but Sally clamped her hand over it before the words came out.
Potter nodded. "I agree with you, Lil Miss. Pierce and Hunnicut, you've got fifty dollars to play with. Check with Radar to get you anything you need. Right that's enough, dismissed!"
Before BJ and Hawkeye could get their complaints out to whoever would listen, the tannoy crackled into life.
"ATTENTION ALL PERSONNEL, ATTENTION ALL PERSONNEL! EARLY CHRISTMAS PRESENTS FROM THE FRONT LINES, EVERYONE REPORT TO PRE-OP IMMEDIATELY."
"I though Father Christmas arrived by sleigh?" asked Sally, as they made their way through the doors and across to meet the incoming wounded.
"Ah, this is America now, Sally!" BJ smiled as he put an arm round her shoulder, "We do everything bigger and better!"
"Everything?" Sally replied, with mock astonishment.
"Yeah," Hawkeye sneaked up behind her, "Meet me in the supply tent later and I'll show you!"
She punched him playfully on the shoulder, and then the games ended for the next 14 hours. They had work to do.
oOo
After spending an eternity in OR, they finally made their way back to their tents for a rest. But, as was so often the case, on arriving in their cots, they found that they couldn't sleep. And so, the four surgeons and Margaret made their way over to the officers club under the pretence of having a nightcap. In reality, they were all still there 2 hours later. Charles was under the table with a pretty nurse from Texas who was falling for his charms – aided by his generosity with the whisky. Margaret had disappeared into a corner with a chopper pilot, and BJ was forced to watch Sally and Hawkeye getting drunker and drunker while he was due in Post-Op ten minutes later.
"Well, I hate to leave you kiddies to your own devices, but some of us have work to do," he said as he stood up to leave, "Don't do anything I wouldn't do!"
"Aw, Beej!" Hawkeye pleaded, "Cut a man a little slack!"
"I'll be disappointed if you only have a little slack," Sally quipped. Her English accent was becoming more and more pronounced the more beer she consumed. She stood up to move, and swiftly sat down again. "Oops!" she giggled, "I appear to be a little squiffy! BJ, would you mind holding the door steady whilst I trytowalk through it?"
Hawkeye managed to struggle to his feet, and offered his hand to Sally. She rose gracefully and swayed slightly for a couple of seconds before they were able to begin their journey to the Swamp under cover of alcohol. BJ waved cheerfully to them, chuckling to himself as he thought of the headaches they would have the next morning. He watched his two friends struggle to work out which side the door opened before they managed to stumble through, giggling, into the tent's gloomy and cold interior. BJ wasn't sure exactly how bad they would be in the morning, but he would bet his last dollar that neither would remember how they got that way.
oOo
"NO! No, no, no, no, no! I may be slightly tipsy, Captain, but I'm not drunk enough to fall for THAT one!"
"Oh, go on!" Hawkeye pleaded with Sally, "Strip poker in this weather can be character building. You can trust me, I'm a doctor."
"I wouldn't trust you as far as I could throw you, you maniac!" Sally laughed. Then, a slow smile crept across her face. She had an idea. "But, I'll play strip poker with you if you agree to MY rules."
"And what rules would they be?" he asked playfully. They were sitting side by side on his cot now, and despite her inebriated state Sally found herself struck again by how stunning his eyes were, and how they lit up when he flashed that wicked smile at her. She was beginning to see what the nurses found so irresistible in Hawkeye Pierce.
"Well," Sally said, moving her face so that their noses were almost touching, "You have to agree first before I tell you. Do you agree?" He nodded reluctantly. "Alright then, if you lose a hand, you remove an item of clothing. But if you win a hand, you've got to put on the item which the other person has just taken off. Deal?"
Hawkeye laughed manically. "I love it! It's crazy, but I love it!"
He reached across her to fetch the cards from beside his bed, pausing slightly too long to breathe in the scent of her sitting so close to him. For the first time since she'd arrived, he had her all to himself and he didn't intend to waste the moment. He passed the cards to her with what he hoped was an inviting smile. "OK," he said, "You deal!"
