Radar came back as promised after supper, and again before bed. Hawkeye figured he was trying to make an impression, a show of gratitude in return for letting the cat stay in the Swamp.

Hawkeye told him he didn't have to worry about coming during the night. "If she has an accident we'll take care of her."

"Well if you're sure…" Radar agreed hesitantly.

***

It was pitch black when a soft, sing-song voice woke Hawkeye that night. He rolled onto his back and looked over towards BJ's side of the tent and smiled.

BJ had a towel-wrapped bundle held in one arm like an infant while he made the crate up with fresh toweling. The bundle was making catty protests and BJ was talking back to her. "You'll be fine, your uncle BJ is making your bed up all clean. Uncle Hawkeye fixed your foot up and in a few days you'll be almost as good as new…"

"Uncle BJ?"

BJ jumped and the cat squeaked in protest. "Sorry, did I wake you up?"

"It's okay. It was worth it to hear all that. How's out patient?"

"Conscious."

"Good."

"Her kidneys are functioning."

"Good again."

***

In the morning, Radar was at the Swamp even before Hawkeye was out of bed.

Hawkeye yawned and stretched and swung his legs out of bed, reaching for his pants.

"How is she? Oh," Radar started as he peered into the box and the cat opened her eyes and peered back out at him.

"She and BJ had a lovely conversation during the night," Hawkeye informed him.

The sound of BJ drawing two full lungs' worth of air made the both of them look over at him. "She thinks this place stinks just as much as we do."

Hawkeye poured a bit of gin in a basin and dipped his hands into it, then picked up the cat and laid her on a towel on his lap.

She blinked up at him, her fur pricking a little. He petted her head and the back of her neck, tickling her between her shoulder blades. In a minute or two a breathy little purr began emanating from her.

"I think she likes you," Radar said happily.

"I have that effect on women." He petted a little more, till her prickles went down. "Beej, since you two hit it off last night, wanna come over and help me?"

BJ came and knelt in front of Hawkeye, placing a gently restraining hand on the cat, and petting her with the other. Radar sat down on Hawkeye's cot beside him and watched with somewhat nervous interest.

Hawkeye took the dressing off the foot, and although he was careful the cat whimpered, a sound that until then he didn't know a cat could make.

There was a small rusty stain on the bandage but it was dry and and the wound did not weep.

"Give me the disinfectant and some gauze from my bag," Hawkeye said to Radar. He cleaned the wound, re-wrapped it and then checked over the others.

The cat was rather put out by the time they were finished and BJ was a little nervous to let go of her. She merely glared up at them, though, and her stomach began to rumble.

"I think she's hungry." Radar supplied.

"She won't be when she tastes the food."

"She eats mice," BJ protested.

"I'm not entirely sure we don't." Responded Hawkeye.

"There's liver in the mess tent."

"Of course there is."

"Could she eat that?" Radar continued as if Hawkeye hadn't said anything.

The two doctors looked at each other. "We could mince it up and it might work," BJ said.

"All right, let's try it."

The tortie stared at them all as if to say, get moving.