In the VIP tent, Hogan brewed tea. "So how's the 'Sun' been treating you?" he asked casually.

"Good. Busy." Newkirk stretched. "Cor, I hate hospitals."

#"Why are you in Korea?"# Hogan asked.

Newkirk blinked at the switch to German. #"I go a lot of places, gov. I am here to scout out the Chinese. I can tell you that."#

#"War correspondant?"#

#"Who else gets to roam around without drawing suspicion? I can't ruddy say 'hey, I'm MI-6, tell me everything."#

#"Your German is even better," # Hogan blurted. #"You've been practicing."#

#"I'm a frequent visitor. You should hear my Russian."# Newkirk grinned wider, sipping the tea. "Good job. We'll make an Englander out of you yet."

#"Maybe I can join MI-6 as well."#

Newkirk's eyes gleamed. #"Love to have you. Why are you here?"#

"Honestly, I'm checking up on a few of our planes and pilots. That's it."

Newkirk nodded. Hogan eyed his friend. "I spoke to your doctors," he said.

"And what do the leeches 'ave to say?"

"They told me you're dying."

Newkirk sighed. "I'm not dying, gov. I do have a few scars."

"I came into the exam room."

Newkirk froze. "Bleedin' hell," he murmured. "It's not as bad as it looked."

#"Electric fence?"# Hogan asked. #"Who got friendly with electric current?"#

#"You know I can't tell you that, gov."# Newkirk finished his tea.

Hogan rubbed his eyes. #"Peter, you've been in MI-6, what, seven years?"#

#"'Bout that."#

#"And three years with me. That's ten years as a spy."# Newkirk nodded, watching Hogan closely.

"I'm ruddy good at what I do."

#"I know you're terrific. Ten years, however, is a long time in the intelligence field. Especially as an active agent."# Left unspoken was the fact both knew. Most agents never survived ten years active. Of course most didn't have saboteur training.

"What are you saying, gov? I should quit?" Newkirk teased.

"Not quit." Hogan inhaled. "Join me."

Newkirk jerked. "What?"

"I need an aide, a smart one. You can do it."

"You're blooming daft!"

"It's perfect."

"Gov, we're not even in the same army!"

"I can wrangle it."

"An aide?"

"You know how I like my coffee, can keep track of my schedule, and keep me up to date."

"I don't think my bosses will just let me go," Newkirk said.

"We can work it out. And you won't be bored."

Newkirk leaned back, eyes glinting. "You've been keeping your 'and in, 'aven't you, mate?" Hogan merely smiled. Newkirk bit his lip. For a moment, Hogan saw the stress Newkirk carefully kept hidden. It helped confirm what he'd been wondering, if his old friend was exhausting himself. "It's awful tempting, gov."

"So do it."

Newkirk looked at his hands. "Even if we work it out military wise, there's another problem, Rob." Hogan tilted his head at the rare usage of his first name.

"What?"

"Do you remember that night before you left London?"

Hogan leaned back and smiled. "Oh, yes," he softly said. Newkirk's neck began reddening. "And I remember those few nights we managed to catch."

"That's the problem. I remember, too." Newkirk's voice tightened. Hogan studied him. "Gov, you 'ave kids."

And?"

"I--I can't just forget those nights." Peter's cheeks blazed red.

Hogan cocked an eyebrow. "I'm flattered. After all, you've had an incredible array of women."

"How would you know?" Newkirk demanded, face still red.

"Newkirk, I do keep track of my friends. And I know something of your escapades. I meant what I said. Your female conquests are impressive. Germans, Russians, Americans, French--you have had a United Nations of women."

"Look in the mirror, gov," Newkirk said sourly, flicking his eyes up briefly. "Every nurse here is talking about you." Hogan smiled wider. "They've been asking me all about you. And what about you and the head nurse?"

"She's lovely. But we're not involved."

"I didn't think you were. Anyway, you know my problem then."

"What?" Hogan asked, lips quirking.

Peter glared at him, finally staring at him in the eye. "I don't think I could handle being so close to you all right?! Maybe it was the alcohol and the fact that there were no birds in Stalag 13, at least not often, but that's not the problem now! You--you ruddy well enter my dreams! Still!"

"You're an idiot, Peter."

Hogan stood up and loomed over his former subordinate. Newkirk stared at him with wide eyes yet the rebellious spark Hogan knew so well blazed bright. Hogan grabbed Newkirk's chin and kissed him hard. Newkirk carded his fingers through Hogan's hair and yanked the older man down.

--------------------

Hawkeye trailed a hand over BJ's sweaty back. The taller man yawned and wrapped his arms around Hawkeye's bare waist. "We should get dressed," he mumbled.

"Um." Hawkeye cautiously stood up and dressed. "Damn, Beej."

BJ chortled throatily and stood, yanking his clothes on hastily. "Problems?"

Hawkeye admired BJ's body as he dressed, feeling a bittersweet ache in his chest. Being in love with BJ could be difficult. Yet, loving BJ was easy. "I just need a week to recover."

"Are you saying the camp casanova can't keep up?" BJ grinned.

"Just hit the showers," Hawkeye ordered.

BJ laughed and left. Hawkeye waited patiently for five minutes then left. He walked to the showers to find BJ soaking under hot water and humming quietly. Hawkeye took the second stall. BJ smiled at him as he rinsed lather from hair. "You took your time," BJ said.

"I was tired," Hawkeye said. "And Klinger said he had news for us."

BJ nodded. He rinsed and toweled off. He looked at Hawkeye. "Meet you at the Mess Tent," he said.

"You got it."

BJ met Klinger at the Mess Tent before Hawkeye. "Got you some news," Klinger said. "That reporter is legit. The London Sun has numerous articles by him."

"Any of them say how he got so scarred?"

"Just that he likes to travel with the troops. And he goes everywhere."

Potter walked in and sat by BJ. "Where's Pierce?"

"Showering. Why?"

"Flagg's in camp."

"Hell," BJ swore. "Why?"

"He's just here. Say, I see your patient is gone."

"He's with the General," BJ yawned. He waved lazily at Hawkeye as he came into the Mess Tent.

"Is it true they were in a POW camp?" Klinger asked.

"According to the General," Potter said.

"There's more." BJ waited until Hawkeye sat down beside him, quivered as Hawkeye squeezed his thigh under the table. "Those whipmarks?" Potter nodded. "It appears our reporter ran into the Gestapo."

Potter's eyes widened and Klinger stared. "As in Nazi Gestapo?" Klinger demanded.

"Jackboots and all," Hawkeye said.

Potter shook his head. "That explains those scars."

"The Gestapo whipped him?" Klinger whispered.

"And probably did more." Potter drank his coffee. "Those boys played for keeps." He looked at Hawkeye. "Flagg is here, Pierce."

"Now there's something to darken my day," Hawkeye said.

Winchester entered the Mess Tent. "Colonel, I hear General Hogan doesn't have an aide," he said. "Does he have a physician?"

"No and forget it, Winchester. I need you here." Potter glared at him.

"He doesn't have an aide? Quick, Beej, pinch me. A General without a staff?"

"How long will he be here?" Winchester asked, clearly miffed. Hawkeye jerked as BJ pinched his leg lightly.

"Probably two more days. Why do you care?"

"He's disturbing the patients. "

"In what way, Winchester?"

"Staying all night in Post Op for one thing." Winchester sipped his coffee. "He sat beside his man all night."

"And?" Potter asked. "How did he disturb the patients?"

"By being there," Winchester said.

"If simply being there disturbed our patients, they'd go crazy when you were there," Hawkeye said.

Winchester glared at him. "And when is the reporter leaving, Hunnicutt?"

"He's going with the General," BJ said. "Hogan said he'd take him to Kimpo."

"It must be nice to be so privileged. And where is he now?" Winchester said.

"With Hogan," BJ retorted. "Newkirk is a survivor, Winchester. Lay off."

"All our patients are survivors," Charles reminded. "What makes him special?"

"He wasn't just a POW, he was also a Gestapo guest, Charles. Do you want that privilege?" BJ snapped.

Charles blanched. "It appears I spoke out of turn," he said. "I'm sorry."

"Hunnicutt, how are your other patients?" Potter asked.

"All doing well. Benson is running a fever but I'm on top of it."

Potter nodded. "The general complimented me on our work. Good job, all. And I'm still trying to get something done about the snipers."

"Do we get a raise?" Hawkeye wolfed his potatoes.

"Ask Hogan." Potter drank his coffee and flinched. "Ask him for better coffee, too."

----