She looked so out of place in our tent: standing there fresh and new in a place where everyone was so tired and worn. Although distressed, she still looked pure and pristine.

I shook my head. It was terrible to watch someone disheartened about a failed affair and think of them as "pristine." I stood up and walked over to her, slipping my arm over her shoulders.

"You said yourself that Hawkeye is a complex person," I started, trying to console her. "You can never predict what he's thinking and if you ever tried your mind would probably cave in." She giggled and wiped away what looked like a tear. "Give him time, he may come around."

She looked up at me and smiled. Her eyes caught mine and I froze for a moment. My eyes were fixed on hers and I couldn't seem to tear them away. I studied her face with my medical precision: intelligent green eyes, light auburn hair that shone red in the light, smooth skin without a blemish or scar to account for, and a smile that could have stopped traffic. I came to the conclusion that she was a very attractive woman.

She finally broke the gaze and looked back at the table on the side of the tent.

She cleared her throat. "So, what's this thing?" she asked pointing at the still.

"That would be our gin machine," I said, pulling the spout out from under the glass vials. "Care for a sample of our fine work?"

"Your CEO lets you have a distillery?" she asked, amazed.

"Colonel Potter is a good guy, and isn't a stranger to the bottle," I laughed. "Most people here aren't into the whole military thing. We're just regular people who happen to wear the same clothes."

"The two Majors seem pretty GI to me."

"Well, Frank and Margaret are the only two people in this outfit who actually remember that we're in a war. The rest of us try to forget it, hence the booze." I handed her a glass.

"A toast?" I raised my glass and she followed suit. "To what?"

"New friendships forged in the heat of war," she said.

"And old ones renewed by fabulous coincidence," I replied.

We drank.

A voice behind us sounded in mid gulp, for Linda, mid sputter.

"Coincidence?" We both whipped around and saw Hawkeye leaning on the doorframe, looking much happier than he had when he left. "Why not fate?"

"You never believed in fate," Linda said, taking another sip and grimacing at the taste of the gin.

"I still don't," he said and crossed the threshold into the tent. "But don't let my cynicism rub off on you too, Linda. I've already made BJ here a genuine pessimist and I don't want that happening to you."

"I never intended to take anything you said to heart, Hawkeye." I knew she meant it as a joke but there was an edge of bitterness in her remark. Hawkeye had obviously hurt her; the worst part was he didn't know. I took one last swig of my gin before setting my glass down on the table.

"Well, I'm dead on my feet so I'm going to hit the sack," I said.

Linda stepped away from Hawkeye and extended her hand. "It really was a pleasure meeting you," she said. I grasped her outstretched hand and shook it.

"The pleasure was all mine," I replied. I let go of her and turned to make some sense out of my random arrangement of bedclothes. I heard Hawkeye and Linda talking behind me.

"It really makes me glad to know that I have someone here that will help keep me sane," she said sincerely.

"Well, you can definitely count on me to help. And if I fail, I'll be the first to visit you in the crazy house."

Linda chuckled. "You always knew how to make a girl feel special."

I heard a rustle and looked into a mirror by my bed. Linda gave Hawkeye a light kiss on the cheek.

Linda: "See you later, Hawk."

She walked out of the door and before the door had even shut all the way Hawkeye had collapsed on his bed.

I turned to him and tried to read his facial expression. But it was too mixed, so I decided to ask instead.

"A penny for your thoughts?"

"It'll take a lot more than that," he said. "I have so many feelings rushing through my mind right now that my head feels like Grand Central Station."

"Want to talk about it?"

He shook his head. "If it weren't for Carlye I would have easily gone for Linda. Now that Carlye's no longer in the picture and Linda's here, I can't decide whether to pursue her or run screaming when I see her."

"She's a lovely girl. Maybe you should see if it works out."

He screwed his face up in deep thought. "But I have an amazing friendship with her. Don't get me wrong, I'm incredibly attracted to her, but I feel like if I went for it we might lose what we have." He looked up at me. "What's happening to me, Beej?"

"It's called real friendship with a woman, Hawkeye," I said. "Not uncommon, unless we're talking about you."

He thought for a moment. "A relationship not based on sex. It seems so idealistic, so unrealistic."

"She seems to be that kind of woman," I said, turning back to my bed. "The kind that will change you and make you want to be a better man." I thought about what I had said and wondered why I had said it. "Kind of like my wife," I added quickly.

Hawkeye shifted and he walked up behind me. I turned to him and we stood, face to face.

"Are you interested in Linda, BJ?" All traces of joking were absent from his face. He wasn't angry, just confused, and maybe I heard just a little hint of worry. Outside of the OR, I had rarely ever seen him that serious.

"You know me, Hawkeye. I'm happily married," I replied. I turned back to my bed, straightening out my sheets for the fifth time. I could still feel him behind me, his eyes boring holes into my back. Finally he moved back to his cot. We undressed for bed and laid down in silence.

I listened to the sounds around me, and when I was sure that Hawkeye had fallen asleep, I quietly put my clothes and boots on and walked outside.

I needed to clear my head, but from what I didn't know. I knew it was because of Linda that I was so restless, but I didn't know why. Was it because she had a thing for my roommate? Did she remind me that I would never live up to Trapper John McIntyre as I had been told from the first day I arrived? Or maybe it was something else, something completely different, something more terrible. Maybe that moment we stood with our eyes locked on each other meant more to me than it should have.

I shook that thought away. I had been tempted before and I had always come out with my morals intact. This time it was different. I felt guilty and thought of how I'd apologize to Peg, until I realized I hadn't done anything or even thought anything that would condemn me.

My head was a mess, but I decided not to dwell on it anymore. I slipped back inside and tossed my boots and clothes off nonchalantly, hoping I wouldn't wake Hawkeye in the process, realizing later that he was awake anyway. I heard him stir and suspected he knew I had been out. But I didn't have the energy to explain myself to him and bedded down for the night.