In Carlye's hotel room, Hawkeye watched her pouring him some wine and wondered what the hell he was doing here. He'd only planned to drop her off in front of the building, bid her a fond farewell, and get on home.

Somehow, he instead found himself in her room, agreeing to have a drink with her… the two of them, alone, still laughing and smiling over the memories of their shared past.

He went to the window and looked out over San Francisco. Such a beautiful city… his home now. His home with B.J. Sometimes he did miss the east coast, it was true, but he'd started to think of California as representing his new life… his post-war life… the one where he finally put to rest all of his adolescent behavior and decided to be a man.

An honest man. Which meant living with the person he loved, regardless of what the rest of the world might think of that.

Carlye came up behind him and he turned, accepted his glass of wine from her. She smiled at him but said nothing. She was gorgeous, this woman. He'd always had a soft spot for blondes, no doubt about it. And Carlye had such an unusual look about her, he'd always thought… stunning without any apparent effort. She didn't need makeup, and it never mattered how she dressed. She just always took his breath away.

And she did now.

Perhaps sensing what was going through his mind, she took a small step closer to him. She didn't touch him, but he could feel her aura and smell her perfume. His heart began to pound. He gripped his glass a little tighter.

"Hawkeye…" she murmured, her smoky voice sending a tingle down his spine. But she didn't say anything more.

He took a deep breath and stepped away from her, needing distance. He sipped his drink to buy time, then he faced her again, asking, "Am I crazy to be in this hotel room with you?"

She was standing very still. "Crazy?" she echoed.

He looked into his drink, gathering his thoughts. "I'm in a relationship—a really great relationship with a man I love. And here I am, with you… and in such close proximity to a bed." He gestured at the offending piece of furniture. "After all, you've always been temptation personified to me."

"I have?"

"You know you have. From day one, pretty much."

"Hawkeye," she said slowly, taking a step toward him, "if I'm tempting you, then maybe your relationship isn't as wonderful as you seem to think it is."

His throat was dry, his heart was hammering. Shaking his head, he said, "I'm in love."

Moving another step in his direction, she said, "You miss women, don't you? I know you, Hawkeye… you adore women. You must miss them. The softness of a woman's skin… the smell of a woman… having a breast to fondle…"

"I find things to fondle, thank you," he retorted. But she had him off-balance. She was conjuring up images in his mind that were making him feel warm and lightheaded.

"I would think," she said softly, "that you'd welcome the idea of a more normal life."

"Normal?"

"Traditional. More acceptable."

He waved the hand not holding his wine. "I don't care what the hell people think about me and my lifestyle."

"It never gives you pause? You never wonder why you do it… why you need to lie to some people, or hide your true self? Do the people at the hospital know?"

He shook his head. It was a bit of a sore spot. He'd wanted to tell their colleagues that he and B.J. were together, but B.J. had nixed the idea. It was easier, Beej had said, if they just let their coworkers think they were a couple of carefree bachelors who were nothing more than good friends.

Carlye said, "I have to tell you, Hawk, I don't think it's who you really are. It's a phase, maybe—"

He cut her off, angry. "It's not a phase. I found the person I want to spend my life with, and he happens to be a man. B.J. and I have been together for years now, and I haven't strayed, not even once."

"And yet here you are." She swept her arm around the room. "With me. And I don't see you leaving."

"Maybe I should." He put his wine glass down on the desk and had every intention of heading to the door, but she stopped him, putting her hand on his arm.

"Don't," she said, moving smoothly into his arms. "Don't go, Hawk." She kissed him then, and he was so caught off guard that he kissed back, and didn't pull away from her even as she began to blindly unbutton his shirt.

It was the first time he'd kissed a woman in years. She was right, he missed the softness, the way a woman's mouth melted under his, the flowery smell of perfume. For a second or two, he simply savored the sensations as he kissed her, feeling nostalgic and tempted and a little sad.

But then he suddenly stepped back, out of her reach, saying, "Carlye, I can't." His hands went to his shirt, his fingers buttoning it up again. "I'm with B.J., and I'm lucky to have him. I love him. It may not be the easiest relationship in the world, but it's the one I want."

He could almost see her deflate. But she accepted his words, nodding at him as she brushed her hair away from her face in that subconscious gesture of hers.

"I'm sorry," he added.

"So am I." Her voice was shaky, filled with emotion. She seemed like a woman who was very lost, very much alone, and he felt for her.

"I hope you find someone who makes you happy, Carlye," he said, putting his hands on her arms. "You deserve it."

She gave a weak smile in return. "Goodbye, Hawkeye," she practically whispered, now anxious for him to be on his way. He could see the pain in her eyes. Rejection was best dealt with in solitude; he knew that from past experience.

So he obliged. "Bye, Carlye," he said, giving her a peck on the cheek and making a swift exit from the room. The smell of her perfume seemed to follow him down the hall.

Out in his car, Hawkeye sat behind the wheel and took some deep breaths, trying to get his equilibrium back. The whole thing seemed a little surreal.

It'd been a hell of an afternoon.

He shut his eyes for a moment, picturing B.J. in his mind, picturing that beautiful smile of his, and he smiled himself.

He started the car and headed for home.