Author's note: I do not own M*A*S*H. Rights and material belong to CBS. Please R&R if you think this story should continue. Enjoy!


War. A man's game where boys were injured and killed. No one probably knew this better than Chief Army surgeon Benjamin "Hawkeye" Pierce. Despite their reputation for being the best, they still faced casualties. It was the harsh reality of tensions between the Korea's.

"Someone hand me that suction"

Came Hawkeye's somewhat muffled voice behind his surgical mask. Head nurse, Margaret "Hot Lips" Houlihan, without looking up, proceeds with passing him the instrument. The patient was in dire straits. Bits of shrapnel lodged in his right side. Suffice to say the surgical staff of the 4077 didn't think he'd pull through.

Father Mulcahy passes through, somberly surveying the injured in their beds. He proceeds into the OR area. Bible in hand. All-the-while trying to ready himself for the unfortunate, probable outcome. He had just about neared the table when Trapper let out an abrupt, sharp growl.

"Dammit"

He cursed. In the blink of an eye, their patient's vitals had dropped from stable to nonexistent. Hawkeye could feel his heart sink. He hated this part of the job, however inevitable. He pats John on the back in a hopeful attempt of comfort. Regardless of the occasional petty spat and some differing opinions, their friendship was solid. One could almost say it was an essential, particularly when faced with a surgery not swaying in their favor. An assisting nurse calls time of death.

"He's all yours, Father", Pierce's brisk tone a mix of agitation and contrite. Letting his surgical mask hang lazily around his neck as he once again, rejoins with McIntyre. "C'mon, pal. There's a large martini with your name on it"


Back at the tent, the skillful surgeon went to work on priming the still. Just as the grain alcohol was about to meet the bottom of a pair of cocktail glasses, the naive and oftentimes officious, Major Frank Burns, came bursting through the front door. Nearly knocking the dartboard off its nail.

"The last thing you two need is more alcohol"

Hawkeye spares an irked glance in the bootlicker's direction.

"Frank, I think the last thing you need is an emergency proctectomy when they remove my boot from your.."

"Alright, alright, I've got the message". He interjects sheepishly with raised palms as he slowly backs away back out the door. Trapper cracks a grin and chuckles.

"Hey, you think they'll find his license while they're in there?"

The duo exchanged amused looks, inadvertently snorting, before their tent erupted into a fit of laughter. It seemed the floor soaked up more gin than they had. Nonetheless, Hawkeye's mission proved successful. His sidekick was smiling again. They were halfway through their third martini when both Hot Lips and Frank barged in. Typical, he went crying to Houlihan about how "unfairly" he was treated.

"What's the meaning of this?!"

She demanded with a sharp tongue. Burns with his head low, right by her side. Smirking like a proverbial sibling that had just tattled on the other. The men, once more, start chuckling. This is immediately followed by Hawkeye's classic malapert response.

"Well, I tried telling him no but he kept supplying me with alcohol"

"Don't get cheeky with me, Pierce. You know what I'm referring to"

Again, he catches Frank with that unabated satisfied smirk plastered across his face. Suddenly, it was Trapper that decided to reply.

"Funny choice of words. Especially for someone who was showing a lot of cheeky in the supply tent with Major Burns, here"

Hot Lips' eyes go wide and face immediately flushes a rose red with embarrassment. Frank no longer finding the situation amusing. Hawkeye vainly attempting to suppress his laughter. The poorly "secretive" couple stumble over themselves trying to regain a sense of order and failing tremendously.

"You haven't heard the last of this. I'm taking this up with Colonel Blake!"

"Ooh.."

Came the feigned, frightened sound in unison. One hand splayed to the side of their face, the other still grasping the glass stem. Frank continuing to remain silent, surprisingly. The pair soon left in a huff, it was unlikely Henry was going to take the matter seriously. If at all. He wasn't exactly a fan of Frank's and found him to be quite unbearable at times. And as much as, well, anyone would care to admit. His surgical skills were vital to the MASH unit.

"Gotta say. Maybe the first time I've envied a supply tent"

Trapper wittily chimes between sips of his martini. Hawkeye gives a low chuckle, his tone reflecting the regret behind the words that soon tumbled from his lips.

"It'll be the first time I've ever envied Frank Burns"