Thank you to everyone who read chapter 1, and a special thanks to the reviewers! Only two, but even just those comments really make my day. I know it was a short chapter without much serious content, but I had to start somewhere, so I appreciate any positive thoughts. Now let's really start getting into some plot!

Disclaimer: I do not own *M*A*S*H or any of the affiliated characters

Chapter 2: A New Surgeon in Town

Later that night, long after the sun had set and Hawkeye and Trapper had collapsed on their beds after hours of surgery, an army jeep pulled into the M*A*S*H 4077th base. On the driver's side was a fit young man with a stoic face. He got out of the jeep and grabbed the bag of medical supplies from the back.

The woman on the passenger side, slender and of medium height, her dark hair pulled back, got out and took the other bag, pulling the strap onto her shoulder.

They started walking towards the center of the camp where most people and lights were. The woman looked around her, summing up the 4077th and trying to figure out where she was supposed to go.

"Here we are," she said to herself, finding a post with multiple arrows that she assumed were directions for the camp. When she had read them all, she still didn't have a clue as to where she should go, but she did know how far she was from Burbank and Boston. She ran her fingers over the letters etched in wood and smiled, unsure of why why she liked the idea as much as she did - probably because it wouldn't have gone over too well at the 58th.

"San Francisco? What is this rubbish?" the man said in a way that would have met the approval of Major Frank Burns.

"Oh, come on, Rick. Laugh a little. I promise it won't kill you," she said as they walked away.

"I'm not the one who's staying here," he reminded her, sticking his chin out and his nose up as he surveyed the unit. "All I want to do is get back as soon as I can, like the colonel asked me to. Let's just figure out where you have to go. Ask one of those men."

She followed his pointing finger. "You mean the ones running around looking worried, doing things ten times more important than giving me the time of day? Yeah, sure. Why didn't I think of that?"

"Andrea, please," he almost begged. Almost. She knew he would never deign that low.

She held up her hands. "Fine." Running over to catch up with one man, she said, "Excuse me!" If he heard, he didn't respond. She turned to another. "Sorry, could-" This one walked away too. The third at least cast her an apologetic glance, but hurried on his way as well. She looked back at her companion, arms crossed. "Great plan," she said as he came closer.

"What do you want me to do?"

"Ask around, look around, do something. You're not very good at just standing there and looking pretty."

"Um, excuse me?" a small voice inquired from behind her. She turned to face the newcomer, a very short young man with round glasses. But she quickly realized that he wasn't talking to her. Instead, he was addressing Rick. "Are you the surgeon from the 58th?"

Rick didn't smile at the mistake. "That would be her."

The young man looked shocked for a moment when he turned to face Andrea, but he recovered. "Sorry." He looked back at Rick and seemed to shrink, probably from the stony gaze he was receiving. He quickly regained his composure and cleared his throat. "Corporal Walter O'Reilly." He stuck out his hand.

Andrea took it, acknowledging the way he seemed disregarded her gender. "Lieutenant Andrea Lennox."

Rick cleared his throat and opened his mouth, but Andrea cut him off. "Yes, fine, go. Give my regards to Colonel Hollis." With a condescending look, Rick stood, waiting for the salute he should get from the corporal. But this corporal only wondered what was going on; he hadn't given a salute in a while. "Oh, Rick, I thought you wanted to leave! Just go!" With a scowl, Rick gave up, turned, and walked back to the jeep. The corporal's eyes were still wide as he watched the intimidating man leave. "Don't mind him. He's been cranky ever since the war started," Andrea said. She gestured to the bag Rick had left with them. "Do you think you could give me a hand?"

He nodded and picked it up, finding it lighter than he had expected. He looked inside. "Oh, you didn't have to bring any supplies."

Andrea shrugged. "That's what Rick said, but I thought they might be useful, and the satisfaction of doing the opposite of what he says is even better."

The young man smiled, grateful that she seemed to be the complete opposite of the tall, mean, and unhappy one. "I'll take you to the colonel."

"Colonel Blake?" Radar asked as he entered the room with Andrea.

Henry was using one hand to press a glass of scotch to his forehead. The rim of the glass fit just underneath a tattered, well-worn fishing hat. His eyes were closed. "Radar, am I going to need another drink for whatever you're about to tell me?"

Andrea smiled at Colonel Blake. Things were much more laid back at the 4077th than they were at the 58th.

"Uh, no, Sir, I don't think so," Radar said, looking from Andrea to Blake. Andrea held back a laugh. "The surgeon from the 58th is here."

Andrea surprised herself by keeping a straight face while the colonel's eyes popped open and he failed to hide the liquor. After a moment, Andrea couldn't take it anymore. She smiled and saluted. "Lieutenant Andrea Lennox, Sir. It's nice to meet you."

The colonel stood, smiling sheepishly and blushing, but returned her salute and extended his hand. "Lieutenant Colonel Henry Blake. Welcome to the 4077th, best care anywhere. Thank you for coming, and, uh...sorry for the, uh..." He looked at the bottle on his desk and rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. He cleared his throat and glanced at the clock on the wall. "Anyway, it's getting late, so I'm just going to ask Radar here to show you to your tent. Tomorrow morning you can meet the other surgeons. They had a long day, and knowing them, they're dead to the world right now."

Radar led Andrea out of the colonel's office and outside. Feeling more comfortable with her new situation, Andrea asked, "Why does he call you Radar?"

"Oh, everyone calls me Radar. Hawkeye started calling me that because I know what's gonna happen before it happens. I'm always the first to hear the choppers. My eyes are so bad that I have sonic ears." He laughed at his own joke. "Hawkeye is one of the surgeons. You'll meet him and Trapper tomorrow. And you can call me Radar if you want, Ma'am."

Andrea stopped walking. Radar slowed when he realized she was no longer beside him. He turned, looking at her quizzically. "Radar, you can call me Lieutenant, Doctor, Lennox, Andrea, Andi, or anything else you want. Just don't call me 'Ma'am.' It's what we called Mrs. Fitz, our ninth grade advisor." She shuddered. "It makes me feel old."

Radar smiled. "Okay...Andi. Here's your tent. You have it all to yourself."

"Thanks, Radar," she called as she closed the door and collapsed on the bed. A long car ride with Rick could make anyone exhausted.

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