References to "That's Show Biz." And, I'm going to jump decades musically here. The song is "Angel" by Sarah McLaughlin (as if you won't recognize it or something). And, I don't own any rights to it, either. You know the drill.

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The USO tour was a welcome respite from the drudgery. Not only were they new faces, but they could entertain, too!

Jessie was able to take a few minutes to enjoy the show they put on in post op, surprised to know that Major Houlihan could sing better than Radar had said she could.

One of the women heard Jessie singing along and insisted she perform one number for the wounded with them. Jessie couldn't help herself, choosing a lighthearted number that entertained the wounded and staff alike.

But, one was all she could manage, especially when she caught sight of Charles sitting with his arms crossed on the other side of the room. She recognized that look.

She saw it in the mirror everyday. Sadness, longing and anger, all rolled into one.

Glad to escape, Jessie returned to her duties, humming to the music faintly heard from post-op.

Later that evening, she followed the sound of the piano to the O Club. The USO accordion player, Justine, was pounding away at the worn keys, apparently relieving pent up aggression using Beethoven.

"Hey, you're pretty good," Jessie said, pulling up a chair.

"Not good enough to keep a crowd." Justine motioned around the empty building.

"Too early. They're still recuperating from the previous evening's festivities."

Justine stuck out her hand. "Justine Middleton. Pleased to meet you."

"Jessie Callahan." Jessie shook her hand firmly.

"I have to say, Jessie, you were fabulous in post-op today. You had those boys eating out of the palm of your hands."

Jessie blushed. "I've been singing since I was four. It's almost like second nature to me. Or, it used to be, at least. Before . . . well, before here."

"This place has that affect on you after awhile. Hell, I'm not even a nurse, and I can tell that!"

"I've always wanted to be able to play the piano, but my sister inherited all the instrumental talent." Jessie told her about her and her siblings' performances.

Justine noticed the look in her eyes. "Hey, let's try something together!"

"Oh, I don't know . . ."

She plunked a few keys. "C'mon! It'll be fun!"

Jessie sighed. "OK. Maybe just one.

"Do you know 'Angel'?"

Jessie inwardly cringed. Not exactly a mood lifter, that one.

Justine began playing. Dutifully, Jessie sang along. With her back to the door, she didn't hear him enter.

Spend all your time waiting for that second chance, for a break that would make it OK; there's always some reason to feel not good enough, and it's hard at the end of the day . . .

He had watched her walk across the compound and for some reason, had followed. She had that affect on him, making him do and say things before he cautiously thought them through.

. . . In the arms of the angels, far away from here. In this stark cold hotel room and the endlessness that you fear. . .

He stood quietly behind her, his hands in his pockets, hanging onto every word.

. . . The storm keeps on twisting, keep on building the lies that you make up for all that you lack. It don't make no difference. Escape one last time. It's easier to believe in this sweet madness, oh this glorious sadness that brings me to my knees . . .

Charles closed his eyes. God, how he'd missed this! How he'd missed her!

Justine looked up briefly from the keyboard as he watched Jessie, startled by the pure longing in his eyes. Once, he removed his hand from his pocket and almost touched her shoulder. He pulled back inches away, letting his arm fall limply to his side.

. . .You were pulled from the wreckage of your silent revelry. You're in the arms of the angels. May you find some comfort here.

As the last notes faded, Justine looked at Jessie. "OK, Miss 'Not That Good'! You should be performing with us, not lounging in this lovely piece of Korea!" She glanced behind Jessie. "What do you think, Major?"

Jessie's smile froze. She didn't need to turn around to know who Justine was speaking to.

Charles cleared his throat nervously.

Abruptly, Jessie stood. "Uh, I better go. Thanks, Justine." She maneuvered around him, praying he wouldn't stop her.

He touched her arm.

"Charles, please . . ." She felt too vulnerable, cursing his timing. "Please, don't. Not here. Not . . . anywhere."

He watched her a moment, understanding dawning. O'Reilly! I should have known!

A million retorts ran through his mind. Instead, he let her go, turning away from her quiet retreat into the dark compound.

"Whoa."

Charles had forgotten Justine was there. He certainly didn't want to discuss this . . . this whatever it was with a stranger.

So, he did what he did best. He changed the subject.

"Tell me, why do you play that wretched traveling show monstrosity when you can play the piano like you can?"

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Jessie stared at herself in her mirror. She looked old. Hell, she felt old!

She missed him, more than she thought she could. Not just his touch, but his ability to help her find strength and solace in this place.

In some ways, he was better at it than Radar, coming from maturity, she supposed.

How could she care for a man who could be so unforgiving with himself and others, yet be so tender with her that it brought tears to her eyes? Why didn't he show that side more often?

She didn't know he was behind her, listening to her sing, seeing her emotions so raw and exposed. And, he had the nerve, the gall to touch her like he had that night in his tent, then be so . . . so hostile the next moment!

Damn him!

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"Jessie, wake up!"

Jessie swiped at the obnoxious noise. "Go away. Margaret gave me the day off."

Frustrated, Klinger shook her harder. She opened one eye. "I'm going to hurt you if this isn't important."

Klinger waved a piece of paper under her nose, obviously excited. "You're going home, Jess! You're going home!"

She shut her eyes, the news not quite registering. "Great. Now let me get some sleep," she mumbled.

"Jessie! Home!"

Her eyes opened wide, realization dawning. "You're kidding, right? This is one of Hawkeye's jokes, isn't it?" Jessie snatched the paper out of Klinger's hand and scanned it. "Oh my God, you're not joking! I'm going home!"

She stood on the middle of her cot, practically jumping up and down. "Oh, Klinger, I'm going home!" He joined her as they jumped up and down around the room. "I have so much to do! I've got to call my family and pack. . ."

"Attention, all shifts! Report to the compound. Buses and choppers arriving in camp! All shifts to the compound!"

They stopped celebrating. Carefully, Jessie folded her orders and placed them in her pocket.

Klinger shrugged. "That's the way it goes, sweetheart."