Title: Just a Peek - Part 1
Author: Lisa M
Pairing: BJ/Hawkeye
Rating: Major … with leanings toward Colonel in some areas.
Disclaimer: Nope, don't own anything. Don't sue … no money.
Archive: Anywhere, just let me know.
Feedback: Would be appreciated - good or bad.
Spoilers: None, really
Summary: Radar sees a lot of things … and there are some things he probably shouldn't see.

A/N: This fic is dedicated to Lee, Snarkywolf, Secret Pleasures, and Braideeni … for giving me their suggestions of things to include in it. Those things are as follows (in no particular order):

1 BJ acting as a mother hen to Hawkeye; either BJ or Hawkeye is sick/hurt and the other takes care of him.
2 Charles being snaky.
3 Use the line "I love that you defend me from myself."
4 Use Radar somehow.
5 Hawkeye laughing so hard that he can't stop; one says something stupid, the other laughs.
6 Radar can somehow use his abilities to see into the doctor's dreams by touching their arm when they are sleeping - or something similar.
7 Smut.

Let me know how well I did.


Sometimes Radar O'Reilly hated being company clerk. If the wrong supplies were delivered, he was blamed. If they were short of anything - masks, gloves, even penicillin - he was blamed. It seemed as if someone was always disappointed in him or yelling at him. Over the years, he'd gotten used to being the camp's punching bag. He knew that no matter what anyone said, he was good at his job - better than good - and that everyone else knew it too. So he would brush off the insults and go on with his day. But, there was one part of his job that he hated more than most.

Waking up the surgeons when they were needed in post-op because of a problem with one of their patients.

Major Winchester always yelled. Always. He would use all of those big words - like cretin or asinine - that Radar didn't understand. But he'd get up. He'd grumble and curse all the way to post-op, but he'd go.

Captain Pierce never gave Radar much trouble. He'd moan and groan about being in the middle of a really good dream. Which, of course, Radar already knew because sometimes, when he'd have to touch one of the doctors' arms to wake them, his 'radar' would catch parts of those dreams. Hawkeye's always made him blush - especially because the doctor sometimes dreamt about men. Radar never held physical contact long enough to know who the men were, though. He was way too embarrassed. Aside from that, Hawkeye was never a problem. He'd get up, he'd occasionally get dressed, and then head to wherever he was needed.

Surprisingly, Captain Hunnicutt was the absolute worst. He wouldn't yell. He wouldn't call Radar names or insult him. He just would not get up. A bomb could go off right next to the man's bed and he'd keep on sleeping. There had been times when Radar thought he was going to have to dump a few buckets of ice water on BJ to get him to wake up.

And, unfortunately, BJ was the one he had been sent to get tonight. He pulled open the door to the Swamp and tiptoed over to the sleeping surgeon. Radar never quite understood why he was always the one who had to do it. Why couldn't one of the on-duty nurses be the bad guy? Why did they have to come and wake him up just so he could go and wake up someone else? Sheesh! With a resigned sigh, he leaned over the man.

"Cap'n Hunnicutt?" he whispered. "BJ, you have to wake up, sir. Major Houlihan needs you in post-op right now."

When the man showed no sign of stirring, Radar sighed again. It was going to be one of those nights. He reached out and placed his hand on BJ's bicep. As soon as his fingers touched skin, Radar was pulled into the doctor's dream. It was strange because BJ didn't seem to dream much, and when he did, it was usually about his wife or his daughter. They'd be playing in a park or riding a carousel or blowing bubbles in their pretty Mill Valley backyard.

Radar knew this dream was different from the very second he entered it.

BJ was here, in the Swamp, and he wasn't alone. He was laying, face down, on his bunk and there was someone underneath him. Radar couldn't tell who it was - everything was blurry and unclear. Dreams looked, to Radar, like watching a movie through a tank of water or maybe cubes of ice. Certain parts were clear - like the person who was actually having the dream. The rest was mostly out of focus.

The only thing he could make out about this person was that they had black hair. Straight, somewhat shiny black hair. He didn't know if it was long or short. Just black - which meant that it most definitely wasn't Mrs. Hunnicutt. Radar had seen her picture and she was blond. It was pretty obvious, even to Radar, that BJ and this dark-haired person were … because the young surgeon was naked from the waist up and he was -

- moving funny.

Radar watched the muscles in his back as they moved. They were rippling and it reminded him of pictures he'd seen of the ocean - rolling waves. BJ's skin looked shiny. Sweaty.

BJ moaned softly in his sleep and Radar almost jerked his hand away. He wanted to let go, knew he should let go, but he didn't. Probably because BJ never dreamed about this place - or sex. Never ever. So Radar was intrigued. Instead of pulling back, he allowed himself to go deeper into BJ's thoughts.

He watched as the person beneath BJ slid their hands around his middle. Slender fingers moved up and down along the surgeon's spine, stopping every so often to massage the skin. One hand wound its way up and into BJ's hair. Radar knew they were kissing, seriously kissing, because he could hear the wet sloppy sound of lips on lips.

Radar felt himself becoming uncomfortable. Not excited, definitely uncomfortable, but he ignored it and remained exactly where he was. BJ moaned again and, with Radar's hand still firmly attached to his arm, arched his back then turned onto his side.

Dream BJ also moved. He rolled completely over, pulling the person under him along for the ride. Once he was on his back, Radar could easily see that the person with BJ was another man. He heard himself inhale sharply and glanced around to see if he'd woken anyone up. But both Hawkeye and Major Winchester were still asleep.

The young corporal turned his eyes back to BJ and was shocked to realize that he wasn't as surprised as he should be that BJ dreamt about men - same as Hawkeye. They were so similar, after all, why shouldn't they dream the same type of stuff? Radar shrugged and refocused his attention.

The dark-haired man sat straight up, straddling BJ's hips. He hovered over the doctor for a moment, then slowly lowered himself onto him. With a short hiss of air, the stranger groaned and threw his head back. That was when Radar saw who it was.

Hawkeye.

"Holy cow!" he yelled out, shocked, jerking his hand away so quickly that he toppled over and wound up falling to the floor.

All three doctors startled awake.

"Radar, what is it?" Hawkeye's weary voice cut through the darkness.

"Jesus, man. What is the matter with you?" Blinding light filled the room as Charles flipped on his lamp. "There are people trying to sleep in here!"

"Radar," BJ said sleepily, propping himself up on one elbow and staring at the young man. "Radar?" He waited until the corporal met his eyes, then he continued speaking. "What's going on? Why are you here?"

"And why are you yelling?" Hawkeye laid back against his cot, covering his eyes with his hand.

"Uh," Radar stood, his eyes nervously tracking between Hawkeye and BJ. "Major Houlihan needs BJ in post-op."

"And why on Earth does that have to include you barging in here and screeching at the top of your lungs like a banshee?" Charles demanded. "Is there a reason you felt a need to rouse every single person in this camp, instead of just Hunnicutt."

"Sorry, sirs. I, uh …" He glanced at BJ again. "Sorry."

"It's okay, Radar," BJ said and began to pull the blankets away from himself. He stopped short when his dream came rushing back to him and he realized that he was still fully erect because of it. "I'll … tell Margaret I'll be there in five minutes."

"Okay, sir." Radar rushed out of the tent as quickly as he could. He stopped just outside of the Swamp and took a deep breath.

Jeez.

BJ was dreaming about Hawkeye. And there were having … jeez! With kissing and touching and everything! The memory of Hawkeye and his dreams came flooding back to Radar. Had Hawkeye been dreaming about BJ all those times?

Holy cow!

The corporal glanced back at the Swamp once, then quickly made his way to post-op.


Hawkeye moaned into the darkness of the supply tent as BJ pressed his naked form against him. Their heated, sweat-soaked bodies moved together in perfect harmony. Their lips danced, tongues fencing in the space between.

When they separated, both were panting for air.

BJ dropped to his knees. On his way down, he traced a line over Hawkeye's torso with the tip of his tongue, relishing each and every drop of salty perspiration that met his taste buds. When he reached the man's pelvis, he moved his mouth over the waiting erection. The tip was already weeping, and BJ tenderly lapped away the cloudy fluid. His lips parted and he took Hawkeye into his throat.

Hawkeye moaned BJ's name as he wove his fingers into his friend's mussed hair. Holding BJ's head steady, he began to thrust slowly. The muscles in the doctor's throat surrounded him like a glove and he couldn't stop himself from picking up his pace. BJ's hands wrapped around Hawkeye, fingers digging into his ass, nails almost breaking the skin. With a final groan, Hawkeye buried himself within the tight, warm cocoon and came with one, long pulsing …

The sound of the door slamming into its frame yanked Hawkeye from sleep. He bolted upright in bed just in time to see the curtain flapping in the breeze. He glanced around within the darkened space.

BJ - here and asleep? Check.
Charles - here and pompous and asleep? Double check.
Hawkeye - here and asleep? Well … one out of two.

"What the hell?" Throwing off his blankets, he quickly sat up. He swung his legs over the side and stood, prepared to give chase to whomever had decided to pay them a nocturnal visit. Hawkeye took one step and his toes connected with something soft. He went down quickly, pain shooting through his ankle. On the way to the floor, he managed to catch the corner of his footlocker with his forehead.

A loud curse brought BJ to his side.

"Hawk, what happened? Christ," BJ paused, helping Hawkeye to his feet. The man winced and fell back down onto his bunk. "You're bleeding!" BJ checked the gash on his forehead. "This needs stitches. Let's go to the OR. I'll stitch you right up."

"You're gonna have to carry me, Beej. My ankle's pretty bad. Maybe even broken."

"What in God's name did you do?" BJ asked, lifting his friend into his arms.

"I'm not sure. I was sleeping … having an excellent dream, actually. You and I were in the supply room, and …"

"Hawk," BJ snapped quietly.

"What?"

"As much as I'd love to hear about your dream," BJ's voice was a near-whisper. He shifted Hawkeye into a more comfortable position and glanced nervously at the still-slumbering Charles. "I think that's a conversation we should have at another time. Can we please focus on the task at hand?"

"Right," Hawkeye agreed and took a peek at Charles as well. "Beej, I love the way you defend me from myself."

"Someone has to do it," he replied with a smirk. "Let's get to the OR. You can tell me about the dream later."

"No, wait. I have to finish the story." BJ nodded and Hawkeye continued. "So, I was sleeping, having my dream, and I heard the door slam shut. That's what woke me. When I saw that you and Charles were both still in bed, I decided to find out who had been in here. I got up, took one step, and bam! Ankle popped, head met wood." Hawkeye glanced over BJ's shoulder. "I tripped over something on the floor."

BJ swung around and squinted into the darkness. He saw something on the floor. Brown, furry. At first he thought it was a rat. But it was too big, and it wasn't moving. He narrowed his eyes even further and was stunned at what was actually there.

"It's Radar's teddy bear."

"No."

"Yeah. It really is. Why would Radar be in here at," BJ paused and checked his watch. "3:17am?"

"Him being in here at 3:17am isn't the unusual part. The unusual part is that he came in here, with his teddy bear, and he obviously wasn't here to wake any of us up."

"Weird."

"Yeah, weird."

"Ah, well, I'm sure he had a good reason. Let's get you patched up. Maybe we can somehow manage to get a few more hours of sleep."


"Hawk!" BJ's stern voice preceded his and Hawkeye's entrance into the mess tent. "You're a doctor, for Christ's sake! You know better."

"Thanks, mom." Hawkeye limped through the space to a table and dropped onto the edge of one of the benches. He ran his fingers tenderly over his forehead. "But, I'll pass on the crutches. This better not leave a scar, doctor." He glared at his friend, then lifted his leg with its newly cast ankle and lowered it carefully onto the seat directly across from him.

"Please don't disparage my abilities like that, Hawkeye. After all, if you don't want to use these," BJ tossed the wooden crutches onto the table in front of Hawkeye. They landed with a loud bang and the man nearly jumped out of his chair. BJ simply smirked. "You'll be needing someone to lug your stupid butt around."

"Charles'll do it, wontcha?" Hawkeye said, slapping the doctor on his shoulder.

"Please," Charles replied and removed Hawkeye's hand as if it were a bug. "Do not involve me in your inanities."

"I'll go get us some food," BJ said and wandered over to the chow line.

"Good morning, sirs!" Klinger's cheerful voice filled the room. "Mail call."

"Where's Radar?" Hawkeye reached out to grab his mail. "Taking the day off?"

"No, he's filling out some supply requests. Asked if I'd deliver all of the officer's mail for him. Major Winchester … your mail."

"Just hand it over, vermin, so I can get on with my day."

"Yessir!" Klinger gave Charles a mock salute. As BJ walked up, balancing two trays in his hands, Klinger tossed his mail onto one of them. "See you sirs later."

"No Radar today?" BJ asked as he set down the trays and took a seat across from Hawkeye.

"Nope. It's odd. Klinger said he's filling out paperwork. Wanted him to deliver the officer's mail. Radar never asks other people to do his work for him." Hawkeye leaned in as closely as he could, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Do you think this has anything to do with what happened last night?"

"Hawk, we don't even know exactly what happened last night. And Radar's been acting a little weird around the two of us for a few days now. Ever since the night he came to get me for …" BJ trailed off, his face clouding over, brows knitting together in thought.

"What? What is it?"

"I think I've just realized something about our small, be-speckled friend."

"Are you going to tell me or not?"

BJ grabbed the set of crutches and helped Hawkeye to his feet.

"Let's take a walk."


After depositing Hawkeye on his cot, BJ moved over to the still and filled two glasses. He handed one to his friend.

"A little early for this, isn't it?"

"You're going to think I'm crazy. I thought a belt might open up your mind a little bit."

"Oh, I don't need a reason," he remarked and swallowed his gin down in one gulp. "So, what's this bee you've got in your bonnet about Radar?"

"Remember that night, when he came in to get me for Margaret?"

"Yeah. He woke all of us up by yelling, right?"

"Right."

"So, what? He comes in to wake us up all the time. What made that particular night so special?"

"I was dreaming."

"Annnnnd?"

"About you."

"Oh, really?" Hawkeye's voice had that sing-songy tone that drove BJ crazy. "I thought that spot was reserved for the wife and kid."

"Hawk," BJ rolled his eyes and refilled their glasses. "Please. Just hear me out."

Hawkeye pantomimed locking up his mouth and throwing away the key.

"That's better. Anyway, I was in the middle of a pretty explicit dream about you. All of a sudden, Radar yelped and I woke up. The thing is, I could swear that he'd had his hand on my arm."

"How do you know? Wasn't he on the ground when you woke up?"

"Yeah, but …"

"But, what?"

"My skin was tingling."

"Your what was what-ing?"

"The skin, on my arm. It was tingling. And not in a pins and needles sort of way. It was in a very specific spot." BJ took off his shirt and pointed to his upper arm. "Right here. Where he would have grabbed me to shake me awake."

Hawkeye just stared at his friend for a moment. Then he burst into laughter - the kind BJ knew wouldn't stop any time soon. He rolled his eyes again and got another drink.

"Okay, enough already, Hawk."

The older doctor now had tears rolling down his face and he was rocking back and forth on his cot. He bumped his cast on the edge of the still table and howled in pain.

"Serves you right."

"You sadist."

"I knew you'd react this way. I should've just kept it to myself."

"So, your theory is what? That Radar, through just touching your arm, 'saw' that you were dreaming about having sex with me?"

"Yes, that's what I'm saying."

"That's insane."

"Is it?"

"Yes, it is."

"Think about it for a second, Hawk. The one time I'm having a dream about you, Radar's there to wake me up. He tries to shake me awake, and his ESP or whatever it is sees what I'm dreaming. He freaks out, hollers and gets out of the Swamp as fast as he can. Then, a few days later, you are dreaming about having sex with me, the slamming door wakes you up and …"

"We find Radar's teddy bear on the floor next to my bed."

"Not so crazy now, is it?"

"But why did he come back the second time? To see what I was dreaming? Or who I was dreaming?"

"I'd say probably both."

Hawkeye sat and reached for the gin. He filled his glass, swallowed the entire drink, then refilled it.

"Do you think he suspects anything?"

"I don't know," BJ said, taking a long sip of his own drink. "Just because a person dreams about another person, doesn't mean that those two people are involved with each other."

"You need to stop drinking. You're starting to remind me of Frank."

"Hawk."

"I know what you're saying. But in this particular situation, the dreamers and the dream-ees are actually involved with each other."

"He couldn't know that though, right?"

"I doubt he'd make that assumption, Beej. I mean, I adore Radar, but it's not like he's a candidate for Mensa or anything. Besides, we've been really careful."

"Do you think we should talk to him?"

"No! Definitely not. Let's wait a week or two and see if things go back to normal. Then, if he's still acting goofy, we can decide what to do."

"Okay." BJ stood and placed his glass back on the still table. "I'm going to head over to post-op. Do you need anything before I go? Aspirin? Water?"

"I could use a little TLC - BJ Hunnicutt style."

BJ leaned in and gave Hawkeye a quick kiss on the lips.

"That'll have to do for now. I'm late," he said and turned to leave. "I'll come back and check on you a little later. Try and stay off that leg. Oh and if you do have to go somewhere, use the crutches."

"Yes, doctor."

With a shake of his head, BJ threw on his lab coat and left the Swamp.

TBC