Okay, readers! Here it is, the 29th chapter of this story!
Now I'm sorry to say this, but I'm afraid this'll be the last chapter that I'm doing for this story. The reason for this is because I've noticed a lot of the mistakes that I made with this story. While making Andrew Peterson a well-written and popular OC is something I'm proud of, there are too many other noticeable issues, such as making Margaret a little OOC for this point of the series, Andrew's friendship with Radar never getting fleshed out properly, and many other minor nitpicks that were pointed out.
However, that doesn't mean that I'm gonna give up on the series. I still love the concept, and I still love the pairing that motivated me to write this story in the first place. That's why I'm going to be doing a reboot of this story, except it'll take place during the first three seasons, preferably season 2.
Another thing I'd like to point out, the reason I tried to make this concept for this point of the series was that at this point, the main crew had become tightly knit and close, despite the disagreements and such. While the pairing would work better in the first three seasons, the main crew was not close, they were scattered, and there were conflicts between some of the members, not to mention that in the first 3 seasons, Klinger and Father Mulcahy were only supporting characters and not part of the main crew. I had no intention of making Margaret OOC for this point of the series, and for that, I'm sorry.
One last thing that I'd like to point out is that having the reboot take place in Season 2 will make the Andrew x Margaret shipping more possible, because despite having to compete with Frank Burns along with her most risque nature at the time, as long as Andrew keeps the same personality, strengths and weakness that he has in this story, it's likely Frank (or ferret face) might not stand a chance against him and might lose out. Other things that I'll fix with that is that Radar will be fleshed out more in terms of his friendship with Andrew, the characters Henry Blake and Trapper might be easier to write, Hawkeye won't be flanderized since there's no need for it (after all, Frank Burns will be present), and I think I'll have no trouble with handling Frank in the slightest.
With all that said and done, I'm gonna start the chapter right now. The final chapter shows a normal typical day at the M*A*S*H 4077, with the personnel going about their own business. How will this go? Find out now!
AT THE M*A*S*H 4077:
It was a seemingly normal day at the M*A*S*H 4077. The doctors and nurses were kept busy, the personnel were taking part in their usual daily activities, and things were running smoothly.
In the mess tent, we see Andrew sitting down at one of the tables alone, as he had an envelope, stamp, a piece of paper, and a pencil in his hands. Because he had some free time on his hand, Andrew decided to write a letter to someone that he hasn't seen in a long time. The person he was writing to was Radar O'Reilly.
He surely missed the former company clerk at the 4077. And he hasn't written to him since he left. Then again, consider all the stuff that took place, he didn't have the time to write a letter to him. But now that he has some time on his hands, he was finally able to write a letter to him, telling him about all the changes that occurred in the M*A*S*H 4077, and how he's been doing since he left. Not to mention he wanted to find out how Radar's been doing on his end since he left.
Andrew had complete confidence in what he wanted to write in his letter towards Radar, as he was shown writing away on the paper with the pencil in his hands. As he was writing away, Colonel Potter walked into the mess tent, likely to get himself some coffee for a coffee break that he was on. It took him a couple of minutes before he got his mug of coffee and tried to find a place to sit down at.
In an instant, his sight was caught onto Andrew, who was writing that letter. Getting curious by this motive, Colonel Potter approached the table and got his attention.
"Hey Andrew," he started to ask him. "What are you writing a letter for?"
"Oh. Hey sir," Andrew looked up and answered him. "I was just writing a letter to Radar."
"Is that so," this got Colonel Potter a little interested, as he encouraged Andrew to continue.
"Yes. I'm just writing exactly how I've been doing, how everyone's been doing, all the changes that happened since he left," Andrew explained. "On top of that, I've been asking how life has been for him since he left our compound, and what it's been like living back in Ottumwa, Iowa. Being a civilian again and all that."
"I understand," Colonel Potter took a seat across from Andrew. "To be honest with you, Major, I miss having Radar around too. I'm just happy that he's back in the states, and not here."
"I feel the same way Colonel," Andrew agreed with him as he stopped writing the letter for a minute.
"You know Andrew," the Colonel decided to share something with him. "I don't mind sharing this with you, but when I first got here, the boy broke my trusty pocket watch. I chewed him out something fierce. Poor fellow felt so bad, he ran into my office every 15 minutes to tell me the time. Almost drove me cuckoo. Especially at 4:00 in the morning."
"Yeah," Andrew tapped his chin. "I believe Radar told me about that at one point when I was still getting situated into this M*A*S*H unit. He also told me about how before the C.O would call out for him, he had already entered the office right as his name was called. The C.O would give him the direct order, and Radar would finish the sentence as if he knew what he had to do."
"Yes," Colonel Potter said. "Radar was one of a kind."
"Truly remarkable to the 4077," Andrew remarked before he resumed writing that letter to Radar, which only took a couple of minutes.
After he was finished, he put the pencil down and folded up the paper. From there, he stuffed it into the envelope, licked the flap so it can be sealed shut, closed it up, put the stamp on it in its proper place, and wrote out the sending address to where Radar lives in Ottumwa, Iowa. Satisfied with this, Andrew put the pencil into his pocket and then got up from his seat.
"Alright Colonel, if you'll excuse me, I'm gonna mail this letter out to be sent to the US," Andrew said. "I'll see you later."
"That's fine by me," the Colonel shrugged. "I hope we can talk some more later on. son."
"Sure," Andrew nodded before giving his farewell to him for now and then went out the door to mail out that letter...
As soon as he was done mailing that letter out, Andrew decided to head for the company clerk's office to see exactly what Klinger was doing. It didn't hurt for him to check out how the company clerk was doing, did it?
Unfortunately, the moment he entered the office, instead of it being cleaned up, there were a whole line of dresses and outfits that Klinger wore since he's been drafted into this M*A*S*H unit. This actually caught him by surprise, as he hasn't seen Klinger wear any of these dresses or uniforms since he gained the position as company clerk; with the recent one being his Cleopatra outfit.
His sight fell onto Klinger himself, who was setting up something to make what would appear to be a museum for all of his Section 8 outfits that he wore, preferably the most memorable ones. Shaking his head at this, Andrew cleared his throat and got Klinger's attention.
"Hey, Klinger!? What are you doing in here," Andrew hollered. "It looks like a twister stormed this office and had scattered all of your dresses and outfits that you've worn!"
Klinger heard him speak as he turned around and faced him. "Oh, hello Major Peterson. I'll have you know that I was working on setting up a museum for all my Section 8 outfits and dresses."
A thoughtful look emerged on Andrew's face. He wasn't expecting Klinger to make what seemed to be a museum for all of his Section 8 outfits and dresses that he used since the Lebanese-American was assigned to this unit.
"Wow, Klinger. This is a rather interesting setup you got here," Andrew admitted. "But why are you doing something like this?"
"Simple. I just want to show everyone at the 4077 all of the Section 8 schemes that I've planned since I've been here," Klinger answered truthfully. "Here's one that I'd like to show you."
Andrew got to look at the first one Klinger was showing him. It was a pilot hat and goggles, a light blue pilot uniform, and fuzzy pink slippers. Parts of what was a big red hang glider were shown in the pile too. This got Andrew rather curious as he felt like asking.
"Hey, Klinger? What's this from?" Andrew queried.
"Oh, that? That was from this one time where I tried to use a big red hang glider to fly out of the 4077," Klinger told him. "I'd like to call it a big red bird with fuzzy pink feet."
Andrew couldn't help but crack a smirk at this. Who would've thought that Klinger would have flown himself to a discharge?
"That's pretty interesting," he complimented.
"You think that's interesting. Take a look at this one," Klinger then showed him what appeared to be a furry scarf, coat and gloves, a dark red turban, and a white purse. There was also a note that Klinger wrote that seemingly came from his mom about something. "This one was from when Colonel Henry Blake ran the uniform. It was when I showed him a letter from my mom about how my father was dying."
"And?" Andrew raised an eyebrow. "How did that go?"
"It didn't work because Colonel Blake pulled out a folder of similar letters that were given previously," Klinger told him. "One of them was half the family dying, the other half pregnant. I then told him that I don't deserve to be in the army. He didn't buy it."
Major Peterson found himself having trouble with keeping a straight face at that Section 8 stunt. It seemed rather dark, but at the same time, amusing. He couldn't place his hand on what was amusing about it.
"Okay Klinger, what other ones do you have?"
"Allow me to show them to you," Klinger showed him a nun outfit. "This is a nun suit that I once wore when I was trying to sneak off to Seoul. But an MP caught me sneaking off, and it didn't work. And this," he picked up what appeared to be a wedding dress. "Is the wedding dress that I wore when I got married to Laverne."
"Laverne?" Andrew queried.
"Yeah," Klinger gave him an explanation. "She was this girl that I married, whom I had been dating since high school. She sent me this letter telling me she agrees to get married to me and we were wedded."
"Wait a minute," Andrew pinched his nose. "How did you get married to her if you weren't able to leave the 4077?"
"It goes like this; after being unable to go back to Toledo, Colonel Blake had arranged the wedding to take place by radio through a ham operator BS2XYZ in Des Moines, Iowa. So I called her to patch her phone into the radio, and Father Mulcahy conducted the wedding ceremony and wedded us through the radio."
"Wow. That must've been nice," Andrew smiled at that.
"Yeah, it was," Klinger then frowned before dropping the wedding dress. "Sadly, she'd end up divorcing me later on for a sausage maker Mority."
"Gosh," Andrew frowned sympathetically. "I'm sorry that that happened to you, Klinger."
"It's okay pal," Klinger insisted. "It's all behind me now."
"Well alright. So what other ones do you have?"
"Ah, here's another one," Klinger showed him a robe of some kind. "This here was what I wore to try to convince General MacArthur that I was insane, even kissing his cork pipe before being dragged off by the MPs."
"Wait, General MacArthur visited the 4077," this got Andrew interested.
"Yes, but who I was pestering before was only Radar dressed as MacArthur," Klinger explained. "By the time the real General MacArthur showed up, I was dressed like the Statue of Liberty."
"Now that's something that I would've loved to see," Andrew admitted with a smirk.
"Anyway, here's another one," Klinger showed him another Section 8 outfit he wore once. "This one was worn this one time where I tried to dump gasoline onto me, which was really water. After Colonel Potter talked with me, I dumped it onto me, only to find out that it was emptied and replaced with real gasoline. Sometimes I still ask myself, who put gasoline in my gasoline? Though judging by how the Colonel talked with me, it was likely Radar who did it."
"Wow. I don't believe it," Andrew expressed shock.
"Yeah," Klinger them pointed to a winter outfit. "This is what I wore that one time I was sitting on top of the basketball pole to get discharged. It didn't work, but I managed to break the record of the 4077 as to who can sit on the pole the longest."
"Gosh. I guess that while you weren't discharged, at least you beat the record," Andrew told him.
Klinger only nodded at that as he then picked up what looked to be a large blue and white striped keffiyeh. "This is what I wore when I tried to convince Colonel Potter that I was a camel rider with Habibi."
"Uhhhh, Habibi?" Andrew raised his eyebrow.
"She was a camel that was imaginary that I tried to bring all around the 4077," Klinger answered. "I can still remember waiting for lunch with two trays, and when I got my mashed potatoes, I told Habibi 'stop curling your lips, you'll get your potatoes'."
"And? What happened to Habibi?" Andrew fought off a couple of chuckles that were coming out.
"Well, Colonel Potter said he got a Section 8 discharge form from Seoul," Klinger told him. "Only for him to tell me that it was for the camel."
Andrew really had a hard time keeping himself from laughing at that. Eventually, he pulls himself together, before noticing what appeared to be a bucket of salami and breadstick. This caught him by surprise as he looked confused.
"Uh, Klinger? Why do you have a slab of salami and breadstick in a bucket," Andrew pointed to it.
"Oh yeah, that is to remind everyone of the time that I tried to eat myself to a discharge," Klinger told him. "It was when we were holding an event similar to the Olympics."
"Yeah, I remember hearing about that one mishap," Andrew rubbed his chin. "Didn't the Colonel once called it [suicide by salami]?"
"Yes. But I called it food for freedom," Klinger proclaimed.
"I see," Andrew was quite intrigued. "Looks like you had pulled a lot of Section 8 schemes just from what you showed me."
"Yeah. There's a lot," Klinger then counted. "There was the bathtub fiasco. The time I tried to bribe the Colonel. And there are so many others that I can't list off the top of my head."
"Well, in any case, Klinger, I think this is a terrific idea," Andrew said before bringing up. "I do have to point out one problem though. Your office isn't big enough to set up this kind of museum."
"That's true," Klinger spent the next minute thinking. "But where could I relocate all of these dresses?"
Andrew was about to give him the appropriate answer but was unable to when Sherman Potter stepped in and saw the mess for himself.
"Holy hemostat! Is this a company clerk's office?! Or is this a dress parlor?!" Colonel Potter wondered.
"Actually sir, it's supposed to be a museum for all my dresses and outfits," Klinger told him.
"Klinger wants to make a museum showing all the Section 8 schemes he pulled," Andrew elaborated. "And he wants to use the outfits and dresses he wore as a way of showing them off."
"I see," Colonel Potter then yelled. "Well in case you forgot, this is a company clerk's office! Not some dress museum!"
"Oh, sir-"
"Get it out of here Corporal, pronto," the Colonel demanded, interrupting Klinger. "The company clerk's office is no place for a Section 8 dress museum!"
"Beside Klinger, there's not enough room for it here," Andrew brought up. "But I do know where you could relocate it."
"Really? Where?"
"How about the mess tent," Andrew suggested. "There should be plenty of room for this stuff there, without blocking people from entering."
"Huh, I haven't thought of that," Klinger seemed interested by that. "Alright. Let's relocate it to the mess tent."
"It doesn't matter where you take it," the colonel stated. "As long as you get it out of here! Now go!"
"Come on Klinger. I'll help you get it to the mess tent," Andrew offered to help out.
"That would be nice, sir," Klinger said. "Thank you."
Without another word, the two of them got the dresses, uniforms, and stuff out of the company clerk's office, and planned on relocating the museum to the mess tent. This would take a while for them, but at least they were being kept busy...
DOWN AT THE SWAMP:
While they were doing that, the three swamp rats were doing their own things. The mail had already arrived at the 4077, and Charles was busy looking over the package that he got. Meanwhile, BJ was looking through some of his stuff in his area of the Swamp to see if there was anything there that wasn't needed. And then there was Hawkeye, who was sprucing himself up and making himself look good as if he had a hot date tonight. He was singing out loud, which didn't go unnoticed by BJ.
"Hey Hawkeye," he started to ask. "Is there a reason why you're getting yourself all tidied up?"
"I thought you'd never ask BJ," Hawkeye answered. "I happen to have a hot date tonight with Nurse Baker. We're going to spend our date in the supply tent with the door closed, and we'll engage in some drinking, and kissing."
"Yeah," BJ didn't sound surprised by this. "I just don't get why you are always like that when it comes to dating one of the nurses."
"I'll have you know that I've been doing this since I've been here," Pierce remarked. "And I haven't stopped since."
"Yeah Hawk, I don't see the excitement," BJ shrugged. "Then again, I'm faithful to my wife."
"Well Beej, it might have everything to do with the fact that I've been a bachelor," Hawkeye exclaimed. "In fact, when Trapper was stationed here, the two of us would take one of the nurses on a date together."
"Wait, Trapper was alright with dating one of the nurses?"
"Yeah! I'm telling you, Trap was a magnet with some of the nurses," Hawkeye didn't hold back on gloating. "He managed to remain faithful to his wife and go out with one of the nurses."
"I guess it has to do with how I'm not Trapper," BJ rolled his eyes at that.
"And I don't expect you to be, BJ," Hawkeye huffed. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have to finish sprucing up for tonight."
And so Hawkeye went back to getting prepped up, as BJ continued to sort through his stuff. By this point, Charles had opened his package and was astounded by what he saw upon opening it up.
"My goodness. It's finally here," Charles expressed relief. "And to think that I thought that it'd never get it!"
"What are you talking about Charles?" BJ queried.
"I'm talking about the new records that I had ordered to be delivered," Charles proclaimed. "These are the Mozart records that I've been desiring for weeks. And now that they've shown up, I shall take the pleasure of listening to every single one of them."
"Charles, you aren't thinking of listening to those on your record player," BJ wondered.
"Indeed, I do Hunnicutt," Charles scoffed. "And I will be listening to these fine works of art on my record player until I've heard every single note come off from these records!"
"Well Charles, I won't be here for long," Hawkeye told him. "So feel free to listen to those records all you like. I have a date with Nurse Baker."
"Do whatever you must Pierce," Charles snorted. "It makes no difference to me. Just as long as I get to listen to these records."
"With pleasure," Hawkeye retorted. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go pick up Nurse Baker."
Charles shook his head at this as he was getting ready to listen to his record player, while BJ rolled his eyes at this, before sorting through more of his stuff. Unfortunately, before they could do anything else, that announcement on the intercom spoiled all the arrangements that were made.
"ATTENTION ALL PERSONNEL! INCOMING WOUNDED! LOOKS LIKE A SIX-HOUR SESSION AND A FULL HOUSE LADIES AND GENTLEMEN!"
"Ah no," Hawkeye tried to get out of this. "Ah no! I don't have time for this! I have to get ready for my date!"
"Sorry, Romeo. Your date will have to wait," BJ insisted as he and Charles dragged Hawkeye out of the Swamp.
"Yes. If I have to wait to listen to my records, then surely you can wait to go on this rendezvous," Charles agreed.
And with that, the three of them went to OR along with the other doctors and nurses to get ready for surgery. They were going to be in for a long session with this batch of wounded...
IN POST OP - AFTER A SIX-HOUR OR SESSION:
It had been a long dreadful six hours in OR, and at the moment, most of the patients were placed in Post-Op to rest. Sadly, Captain Pierce was being held up with treating one of the more severely wounded patients in Pre-Op, who had a severe chest wound. It was clear that he wasn't going to go on his date anytime soon.
Meanwhile, Andrew was in Post-Op looking at the patient that he treated. He had helped Klinger get his Section 8 material to the mess tent before the announcement being made on the intercom. Fortunately for the surgeon, Klinger insisted that he can handle the rest from here and that he can go treat the wounded. Andrew decided not to object to this as he thanked him, and then went to get ready for OR.
Currently, he was looking at the clipboard with info on the wounded patient in the bed in front of him. And judging by the name that was shown on it, it was clear that this solder is called Greg. Seeing that he was being silent, Andrew decided to start by getting his attention.
"Hello there, Greg. How is your stay going at the 4077," Andrew said. "You should be lucky. You only got a couple of open wounds that were patched up and treated. You should be ready to go back to the line in no time. You'll only have to stay here for a couple of days."
Andrew was about to walk away after putting the clipboard back when Greg started speaking to him.
"Excuse me, doc," he said, getting Major Peterson to turn around. "I was wondering if you could do me a favor."
"Oh? Well, if it's medical-related, I just want you to know that I'm not the best surgeon in this unit," Andrew told him modestly. "But I'll see to it that I can treat you and get some of the medical staff members to help out."
"Oh no, doc. It's not medical-related," Greg shook his head. "It's something personal."
"Hmm," Andrew was growing curious by this. "How personal is it?"
"Well, I know this girl who I've seen back in the states, and we are pretty close," Greg explained. "And I don't have the courage to tell her that I have a crush on her. And I was wondering if you could give me advice on how to write back to her, telling her how I feel about her."
Andrew was shocked by the personal favor he was being asked. Did this guy just ask him for some advice as to confessing to this girl how he feels? Was he being serious about this? And what made Greg think that he was the one to go to for help? With these questions clouding his head, Andrew shook them off and managed to comment on this.
"Uh, did I just hear you correctly? You came to me for help with your feelings for a girl," Andrew questioned. "You sure that you're asking me and not Doctor Pierce? Because I can tell you that Doctor Pierce knows more about this than I do."
"I already asked him," Greg revealed. "But I don't like what he suggested to me, and I need some real advice."
"But why me? I'm not that good when it comes to girls," Andrew muttered modestly. "For the longest time, I never even had a girlfriend."
"That's not what I've been told," he said, shaking his head.
"Wait, who told you?"
"The blonde head nurse sitting at the desk over there."
Andrew turned around and saw Margaret was at the desk, filling out some forms.
I should have known. Andrew gulped before turning back to face Greg.
"Well Greg, if you want my advice, just write to her exactly how you feel about her," Andrew advised. "It can be anything you want. You can tell her how much she means to you, why you have feelings for her, and anything you can think of. Just make sure that it comes straight from the heart and that it's absolutely genuine. But don't take my word for it. You write what you feel towards her, and it should be hunky-dory."
"Yeah. That does help," Greg smiled. "Thanks for that, doc. I appreciate it."
"It was my pleasure Greg," Andrew nodded. "Now you write that letter the way you want it and take it easy."
"Sure thing doc. It was nice talking with you."
"Same here."
After giving his farewells to the patient, Andrew walked away and was heading for the door leading outside. Before he could walk out, he took one last glance towards his girlfriend, still filling out those forms. He could only smile and shake his head at the suggestion she gave towards the patient he had treated.
I really have to owe it to her for making me out like a good person. Andrew thought before he walked out the door...
IN THE OFFICER'S CLUB:
Sometime later, in the Officer's Club, we see Father Mulcahy sitting in front of the piano, trying to think of a new ballad to play on it. Aside from being the Chaplin, and taking boxing as a hobby, he was also skilled at playing the piano. The thing was, he was having trouble with coming up with something good that hasn't been done already. He was good at it, but he was no composer.
He spent the next few minutes trying to come up with something when Andrew came into the Officer's Club. He saw the Father sitting in front of the piano, and was curious as to what he was doing.
"Hey Father," he got his attention. "What are you doing?"
"Oh, Major," the Father turned to face him. "I'm just trying to come up with a melody on the piano."
"Really? Have you had any luck?" Andrew asked.
"I'm afraid not," Father Mulcahy shook his head. "I just can't seem to come up with something that I'd like to go with."
"I see," Andrew mused. "You know, I used to play the piano when I was 10. Sadly, I could never learn pass knowing which keys are which, so I stopped playing it."
"That truly is a shame," the Chaplin expressed his sorrow. "I wish there was something I could do."
Andrew was about to tell him that it's nothing to worry about and that it's no longer important. But before he could say anything, the door opened again. This time, it was BJ who came in and saw Andrew and Father Mulcahy.
"Hey Andrew, Father," he greeted. "What are you guys doing?"
"Well, Father here is trying to come up with a ballad on the piano," Andrew pointed out.
"Yeah," Father Mulcahy revealed. "I'm just having trouble coming up with something that hasn't been done yet."
"I see," BJ then came up with a great idea. "You should listen to Charles' records that he got today. They might give you some inspiration."
"Wait. Charles got some new records today," Andrew queried.
"Yeah," BJ nodded. "They were some new Mozart records that he has been waiting for."
"I see," Andrew was amused. "At least they are a step up from those opera records."
No one bothered to comment on that, knowing that Andrew couldn't stand the opera records that belong to Charles. It was then Andrew came up with a terrific idea.
"I'm going back to the Swamp to check this out for myself," Andrew turned to face Father Mulcahy. "You are more than welcome to join me if you like Father."
"Thanks, Major, but I'm gonna pass," he told him. "I'd like to figure this out on my own if you don't mind."
"Sure. That works for me," Andrew shrugged before heading out the door, leaving BJ and Father Mulcahy in the Officer's Club to think things over...
BACK AT THE SWAMP:
It turns out Charles was back in the Swamp, as he was listening to one of his new records on his record players. The composition that was playing at the moment was Symphony No. 40. As that was playing, Charles was just lying down in bed, enjoying some downtime after having gotten down with performing surgery.
Just then, Andrew entered the Swamp as he heard the composition being played from the record player. It was just as BJ told him. After closing the door, Andrew turned to face Charles.
"Well," Andrew commented. "It looks like Hunnicutt was right. You are playing those new records that you got today."
"Yes. And if you think you're gonna stop my record player as you did before, think again." Charles warned him.
"No. I just came in here to see if what I was told was true," Andrew remarked. "I must say that this is at least better than those opera records."
"Well, I suppose I do appreciate that comment, I guess," Charles then told him. "Now would you kindly vacate from the Swamp for a bit? I'd like to listen to my Mozarts records in peace."
"Right," Andrew nodded before heading for the door. "I'll be back later."
With that, Andrew opened the door and walked out the door. As soon as Andrew closed it, he walked away, only to encounter Klinger again, who was heading for the Swamp.
"Oh. Hey Klinger," Andrew greeted. "Did you finish that Section 8 Museum?"
"Just about sir," Klinger confirmed. "I have to talk with Winchester. Is he in there?"
"Yeah, he is," Andrew nodded. "Just be aware that he's listening to those Mozarts records."
"I know," Klinger said. "I was the one who gave them to him in the package."
"Yeah. I'll leave you to talk with him alone," Andrew gave his farewell before walking off.
With Andrew gone, Klinger went to the door and entered the Swamp, seeing Charles on his bed with the record player still playing.
"Hey Major," Klinger hollered over the music, resulting in Charles turning the music down.
"What could it be this time, Klinger," Charles asked rather impatiently.
"Listen, sir, do you remember how I told you that I was making the museum?"
"Yes. The one that shows all of your Section 8 hair-brained schemes," Charles nodded. "Why do you ask?"
"I need a favor," Klinger got to the point. "I was wondering if you could come up with a quote to go with the museum, one that is a dedication to me."
"Hmmm...I think I can come up with something," Charles then bargained with him. "On one condition."
"Right. I was afraid of this," Klinger sighed. "What do you want from me?"
"Simple. Once I provide for you a quote and have you present it at your silly museum, you have to make sure that no one bothers me in the Swamp when I'm listening to Mozart."
"Is that it?" Klinger raised an eyebrow.
"Wait, that means anybody. If somebody needs me for something, you'll have to fill in for me," Charles told him. "And..."
"There's something else, is there?" Klinger moaned.
"Yes, there is. The other favor I must request from you is that for the next three mornings, I would like to be given breakfast in bed," Charles said. "I would like you to get breakfast from the mess tent, and deliver the tray to me."
"Seriously?" Klinger was getting a little annoyed.
"Yes, seriously," Charles retorted. "And by the way, I prefer to eat my breakfast at 7:45, on time. So be sure to keep that in mind, and do not forget."
"Alright, fine," Klinger groaned. "Can you just help me with this?"
"I thought you'd never ask," Charles turned off his record player. "Shall we get started?"
Klinger only nodded, as they got underway with figuring out a quote for Klinger's Section 8 Museum...
IN THE MESS TENT:
Sometime later, in the mess tent, the Klinger Section 8 Museum was up for display. It should be worth noting that Colonel Potter told Klinger that it can stay here for now, but it'll have to be taken out of here afterwards. Klinger promised him that he'll find a new place for this stuff once he has to take it out of here. For now, Klinger showed the museum to the main crew who was there, with Charles right beside him to display the quote that he decided to help Klinger with for two favors.
By the look on his face, Hawkeye looked exhausted from those long tireless hours in OR and Pre-Op. And on top of that, he still has that date with Nurse Baker. He could only wonder if he'll be awake enough to make it. As far as Father Mulcahy is concerned, he came up with something for a ballad. He just had to wait to write it out later on in his tent.
Aside from them, the others had nothing important to attend to right now, so they decided to stop here to see what Klinger had to show them regarding this Section 8 Collection Museum. Andrew already knew about it and saw a good chunk of it, but the others haven't.
"Alright Klinger, what the beaver biscuits have you been doing in here," Colonel Potter commented.
"Is this the museum that you've been working on?" Andrew queried.
"That's right Major Peterson," Klinger exclaimed. "Before I show the museum, Major Winchester had helped me with coming up with a quote that is dedicated to me. Isn't that right, Winchester?"
"Yes. That is correct," Charles got their attention. "Gentlemen, and Major Houlihan, if you could direct your attention over here, this is the quote that I came up with for Klinger."
Turning their attention over, they looked towards Charles and he proceeds to read the quote that he came up with for Klinger.
"Ahem," Charles began to read. "Dedicated to Maxwell Klinger: a rare individual. Not only is he honest, trustworthy, and font of loyalty, he is also the cement that binds our unit together."
No sooner after he read that did he receive some rather confused looks. Most of them were smirking at what was just read about Klinger, finding the sheer irony behind it all. However, out of all of them, Andrew and Margaret found themselves laughing at what Charles came up with for a quote for Klinger. They were unable to contain themselves as they continue to cackle. This laughing got Charles a little annoyed.
"I hardly find the quote that I came up with to be funny," he retorted.
"We're sorry Winchester," Andrew laughed, speaking on his behalf and Margaret's. "But this is the same guy who once tried to make us think he was a camel rider with an imaginary camel who didn't exist or the guy who tried consuming a slab of salami just to eat himself to a discharge."
"Yeah," Margaret agreed with him. "It's nothing personal. It's just silly."
"I must admit," Father Mulcahy remarked. "The quote does seem rather...peculiar."
"Oh, but it's something alright," Hawkeye commented. "It definitely shows us how much Klinger means to us."
"We couldn't have had a better company clerk," BJ said to him.
"What the others are trying to say, Klinger is that we like it," Colonel Potter told him. "No matter how much horse hockey is in it."
"Yeah," Klinger had a small smile. "Thanks for that."
"Now, for the museum," Andrew told him.
"Oh yeah. This is the Maxwell Q. Klinger's Section 8 Museum," Klinger directed them. "These are the dresses and outfits I wore in many of the schemes I've pulled since I've been drafted into this outfit. I hope you enjoy them."
At that moment, the others decided to look at the dresses and outfits Klinger was referring to, some more interesting than others. This would only go on for a little while until it was time for Klinger to find a new location for the stuff...
LATER THAT NIGHT...
It was now nighttime at the M*A*S*H 4077. A good portion of the personnel were in their own respective tents and were doing their own thing. Hawkeye was unable to keep his date due to being so exhausted from OR and performing meatball surgery. So it was safe to say that Nurse Baker had to forget her little date with him.
BJ was fast asleep in his bed, while Charles tuned down the record player to avoid waking everyone up. In addition to that, Winchester looked forward to having Klinger give him breakfast in bed, right on time.
Speaking of whom, Klinger had relocated his museum to a different location. He decided to leave the museum outside where it wouldn't be destroyed or dismantled. As soon as he did that, he went back to his office and went to bed for the night. And as for Father Mulcahy, he had spent some time writing out the ballad that he came up with. He would try it out in the morning, but for now, he needed to get some sleep.
And that leaves the two remaining Majors, who were currently in Margaret's tent. And as one could guess, they were kissing standing up, while embracing. They were enjoying themselves, and they were treating it as if it were their last. They did this for a couple of minutes before their lips separated.
"Margaret, I always enjoy these kissing sessions with you," Andrew admitted.
"Me too," she agreed. "It's always a pleasure doing it with you, darling."
"I feel the same way dear."
They resumed kissing for several more minutes. As they did so, something came into Andrew's head. He was wondering if had he been drafted here when Henry Blake was in command, would he and Margaret become a couple? Then there was something else that he wanted to know, and it involved a certain 'ferret face'.
"Mmmmmmmmm...h-hey, Margaret," Andrew got out of the kiss before asking.
"What is it, honey?" Margaret gave him a curious look.
"I need to ask you," he started. "How did Frank Burns make out with you?"
"Hmmm...he always kissed my neck, nibbled on my earlobes, and the rest of me," she told him thoughtfully. "In addition to my lips."
"Wow," Andrew was shocked. "That's...something."
"Yeah. But you're different," she told him. "You are sweet and tender with how you kiss me."
"I know," they walked over to Margaret's bed and sat down. "There's something else that I'd have to ask you. If I was to have been drafted into this unit when Colonel Henry Blake was in command, would we become a couple?"
"Well, that depends on how you'd approach me," Margaret mused. "You'd probably get lucky, provided that I'd ditch Frank and move onto you."
"Yeah. I could picture that."
"Me too," she whispered as they lied down. "Things would be different if we were to have met and become a couple at that point."
"They sure would," he muttered. "It wouldn't change the fact that I have feelings for you."
"I know," she smiled warmly before kissing him. "I love you, honey."
"And I love you too, sugar plum," Andrew said happily.
From there, they resumed kissing as if nothing even happened. It doesn't matter if they were to meet back then and become a couple when the former late Colonel Blake was in command of the 4077, and even if it did happen back then, how they would become a couple would be different, but they'd still wind up together.
Regardless, they continued to kiss, as things were alright with the two of them. It couldn't have gone better for either of them, and they couldn't have had it any other way...
THE END!
Yeah. That's it for this story. It took me two days (one of which was when I gave myself a day off from exhaustion) to get this written. It's like I said, that one review wiped me out from writing this. And even if I didn't get that review, I was already growing exhausted from this due to running out of ideas. Plus, I've been coming up with ideas for the reboot anyway. Still, I hope that you enjoyed the story.
Now I want you to know that even though I'll be focused on the reboot, this story will stay up for those who enjoy this story. Not to mention parts of this story will be incorporated into the reboot, at least in terms of the OC Andrew Peterson. And as I said before, the reboot will be focused on the first 3 seasons, particularly season 2. And a lot of the mistakes made in this story will be corrected in that reboot, along with keeping in mind the way the dynamics worked in those seasons, with how the main crew wasn't tightly knit together.
Either way, I do hope you'll look forward to that reboot, and I apologize for how this story came out and whatnot.
Now you can leave a review only if you like. Only leave constructive criticism if it's necessary and polite. And please no bashing the pairing focused here since I've learned about the mistake I made with it. And leave positive reviews at any time.
Aside from that, I got nothing else. So until I get started on the reboot, I hope you tune in again, take care of yourselves readers, and on that note, goodbye for now readers!
