A/N: And the next chapter follows – I'm on a roll here. Thought I'd share my fave Mulcahy quote and also the inspiration behind part of this instalment.

owers)
Frank: What's your hurry, Father?
Mulcahy: Oh, I like to get in and get out fast. Give the next fellow a chance.
Frank: Oh, take your time, the nurses certainly do. Just stand in here and soak their precious bodies all over from top to bottom.
Mulcahy: Yes. Well. (turns on water) Oh, this cold water is a blessing.

Fallout

Sally began to stir, wondering why the pillow under her head was lumpier than she was used to, and why she was finding breathing slightly more difficult than usual. She prised open her hungover eyelids, and immediately wished she hadn't. She found her gaze falling upon Hawkeye's morning stubble. Not on the other side of the Swamp as it normally did. This time, it was right next to her. The pillow she was lying on was, in fact, his right arm and the reason she couldn't breathe was because her face was pressed against his chest. She forced herself to ignore the drumming sensations in her head and to try and remember the events which had led her into this position. It didn't take long for the memories to flood back.

oOo

"I wouldn't get so excited, Hawkeye. I haven't decided what to take off yet!"

Sally had just lost the last hand and, according to her rules of Strip Poker, had to remove an item of clothing which Hawkeye would then have to put on. He was hopeful that she would be returning his robe which he lost in the last hand. But he was about to get a shock. Sally stood purposefully and took a large swig from the martini which she was acquiring a taste for. She slipped her hands under the robe and fiddled with the garments beneath it. A couple of seconds later, Hawkeye was amazed to see a silk slip sliding down Sally's legs to the floor. She carefully stepped out of it and lifted it up on her finger, dangling it in front of Hawkeye's ever widening eyes.

"Oh no!" he laughed, "You can't be serious? You ARE serious, aren't you?"

Sally smiled at him, "You know the rules – put it on, Judy!"

Backed into a corner, Hawkeye took off his t-shirt and pulled the silky slip over his head. Sally hooted with laughter at the sight of him shivering in her underwear. He tried hard not to laugh back, it was the middle of December and he was freezing.

"OK, I'll wear it, but I need something to cover up with," he announced as he leapt over to his cot to get a blanket. Sally was anything but lenient.

"No you don't! The rules state that you can only wear garments which another player has removed!" She tried to wrestle the blanket from his grasp, which only resulted in them both rolling onto her bed with the blanket held between them. After a short struggle, Hawkeye managed to overpower her and he stopped for a moment, pinning her down on the bed with his bodyweight, their faces a hair's breadth apart. Sally could smell the sweet scent of gin on his breath as he looked down at her.

"I like you, Sally," Hawkeye said, softly, "You're funny."

Sally pushed him off her slightly, struggling onto her elbow. "Funny ha-ha, or funny peculiar?" she asked, smiling.

"Funny gorgeous," he replied with a straight face.

Sally laughed at him. "No, sorry. You'll never win me over with lines like that. British cynicism is a tough nut to crack!"

"So tell me how I crack it then," he countered, his hand stroking her cheek.

"With a simple statement of fact," she replied, catching his hand in hers and holding it still for a moment.

"Does this count as a statement?" he asked, with a gentle smile. He bent his head down gently and touched his lips to hers for a moment, before pulling back again to gaze at her with those ice blue eyes which she knew she couldn't help but surrender to. She moved her hand round, tangling her fingers in his hair as he came in once again. This kiss lasted longer, and was much more passionate. He was making her feel things she had never experienced before, and she liked it. It felt safe, yet dangerous at the same time - but there was something nagging at the back of her mind, something which stopped her concentrating fully on enjoying the feeling of his hands as they played across her body like a talented musician on an instrument. She couldn't quite put her finger on what was pulling her back. And then it struck her.

"Johnny." The name escaped her lips as little more than a whisper.

"Hmmm, what?" Hawkeye lifted his lips from the crook of her neck for a moment.

"Hawkeye, I'm sorry. I can't. Can you stop, please?" Sally struggled out from under him and lay beside him. He pulled a blanket over himself and Sally, trying hard to hide his disappointment. Hawkeye could be accused of many things, but he always respected women and, no matter how much it killed him, he didn't need telling twice when someone was unhappy with the situation.

They lay there in silence for what seemed like an eternity before Sally spoke.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, "I shouldn't have let things get that far. Am I forgiven?"

Hawkeye wrapped his arm around her and kissed her softly on the head. "Sally, I could forgive you anything. I'm sorry too." He sighed. "Is there someone else, someone who's not here with you?"

"You could say that," she said softly, "Come on, lets get some sleep before the hangovers kick in."

oOo

After she'd re-run the events of her early morning encounter with Hawkeye, Sally began thinking of how she could get out of this one with her dignity intact. She managed to crane her head up from the bed and was just checking if Charles had returned to his bed when a voice behind her made her jump.

"Did we have a nice time last night, kids?" BJ was back from his shift, and had caught them in the most compromising position he could think of without blushing.

Sally sat bolt upright, taking the covers off Hawkeye as she did so. As soon as BJ saw the clothes they were wearing, he began to laugh fit to burst.

"You didn't need to get dressed up on my account!" he hooted, clutching his sides as Hawkeye came to and realised with horror that he was still wearing Sally's slip from the night before. As he struggled to cover himself, Sally began grabbing her fatigues from their various positions around the tent. Once she had everything she needed, she turned to BJ and pushed her nose into his face.

"Nothing happened, BJ. Absolutely nothing." She hissed. Then she turned round and breezed from the tent, heading across the cold compound to the showers for a bracing dip to try and clear her fuzzy head. In her hurry to get out of the cold, she didn't notice Mulcahy standing outside his tent watching her as she walked. As she disappeared into the showers, he walked purposefully after her. When he reached the door he knocked sharply before swallowing his fear and marching in after her.

Sally was standing with her back to him when Mulcahy walked in, and she'd been slightly quicker than he had anticipated. He'd thought she would still be getting ready, but when he stepped over the threshold she had already derobed and was standing beneath the shower head, shaking her long dark hair loose behind her. She turned when she heard the door open, and squealed when she saw who it was. There then followed a moment of blind panic as both attempted to cover their embarrassment with whatever came to hand. Only when Sally had successfully covered herself with Hawkeye's robe did the anger Mulcahy had felt come surging back. Sally knew nothing of this, of course, and was merely astonished at the fact that he was standing in front of her in the showers. She shivered in the cold air as she addressed him excitedly.

"John, you're back. I thought you would have been in Seoul by now!"

"That was fairly evident," came his sharp reply. Sally was taken aback by the bitterness of his words and she could feel a knot of panic rising in her chest as she asked her next question.

"When did you get back?" she enquired cautiously. Please God, she thought, Please God don't say that he saw us.

"The lines have moved again and I couldn't get through safely. I got back about 3 hours ago," he said, "I did come in to tell you, but you were… otherwise engaged."

Sally let out a quiet gasp as he said the words and hung her head in shame and embarrassment. How could she explain to him what had occurred? How could she tell him that she had been thinking of him? So instead she said nothing. Mulcahy made a noise which sounded somewhere between a snort and a sob before making his way out of the showers. Sally stood still for a moment, before flying out after him.

"John, wait. Please! Let me explain. Please?"

Mulcahy carried on his way and threw open the door of his tent. He let it bang shut behind him as he stepped inside and threw himself down on the end of his bed. It took moments before the door nearly swung off its hinges and Sally was standing in the middle of his tent, wrapped in a red bathrobe with her hair dripping wet.

"John, I'm trying to explain, please don't walk away from me." She pleaded with him. But her friend didn't look at her, instead he picked up his Missal from the side of his bed and began reading. Sally was beginning to get angry now.

"Look, we had a bit too much to drink last night and fell asleep in the same bed, that's all." She said. Mulcahy didn't look up when he spoke his reply.

"And you managed to remove your nightdress in your sleep, did you?"

"No," she countered, her voice becoming steelier, "We were playing Strip Poker, by my rules. I was trying not to get into that situation, and when things did become compromising I pulled back. What do you take me for, John?"

"And exactly how far did you get before you decided to pull back?" he asked, looking at her with slate blue eyes full of tears. Sally was shocked to see the depth of his emotion over something which, to her, was fast becoming a non- event.

"He kissed me." She said simply, "That's all. John, what is this? Look, nothing happened that I feel I need to be ashamed of. We had too much to drink, we got too close for my comfort so I asked Hawk to back off and he did. And then we went to sleep. I'm sorry, but I don't see what I've got to be apologising for. And I'm really hurt that you thought though I would do that, even when drunk."

Mulcahy sat in silence. He knew he had jumped to conclusions, and he felt ashamed that he had thought so badly of her. But his male pride – something which he wasn't troubled with often – prevented him from acknowledging this. Instead of apologising, he sat there dumb while Sally turned on her heels and marched from his tent. She stalked directly over the Swamp, kicked open the door and threw herself on her cot, much to the surprise of BJ and Hawkeye who were still in there.

"Whoa there, Hurricane Sally blowing through!" exclaimed BJ. Hawkeye was still suffering the after effects of the night before and was astonished to see her so active. He closed his eyes and let his throbbing head sink slowly down onto the pillow. He wasn't going to get much peace however, as Sally threw down her book and turned on him.

"If you ever come near me again, Captain Benjamin Franklin Pierce, if you so much as LOOK at me in a way that could be construed as even remotely sexual, so help me I will cut it off! Mark my words, you'll be on your back before you can blink!"

Both men looked at Sally astonished. "Hey, what's eating you?" BJ asked, moving over to sit beside her.

"Father Mulcahy saw us last night," she said, surprised by the tears which were now streaming down her cheeks.

Hawkeye looked crestfallen. He knew how close she was to the camp priest and he was suddenly and painfully aware of the full consequences of their behaviour the previous night.

"Sally," he said, "I'm sorry. Shall I talk to him?"

"No." she said, firmly. "It's his problem let him get over it himself. I don't see what we've got to be sorry for. It was only a bit of fun between friends."

BJ looked at Hawkeye. Although she had only been here for a few months, Sally and Mulcahy had become one of the few constants in camp – like an alternative to the anarchy of BJ and Hawkeye themselves. The feisty surgeon and the quiet priest were an unlikely combination at first, but now that BJ saw himself faced with the reality of them not talking, he realised that he would have to take matters in hand..

"I'm off to see Colonel Potter about something," he said, standing up and moving to the door. "I'll see you guys in the mess tent for a game of 'Guess What's Coming to Breakfast' in a little while." He walked across to the CO's office, ready to deliver his idea to the Colonel. He wasn't sure if it would work, but something had to be done. And he realised that he was the only one who could do it.