Title: Not Leaving Till You Smile
Fandom: M*A*S*H
Pairing: Hawkeye Pierce/BJ Hunnicutt
Rating: Gen
Word Count: 600
Summary: “I’m not leaving you till you smile, y’know?” There’s a gentle squeeze of his hand and BJ looks up at Hawk through heavy eyelids, his eyes red. (hurt/comfort; tw for animal death.)
A/N: Part 4 of my Daily Fanfic Chocolates calendar :D Another fic that I wrote for a prompt writing challenge I did with my friend @onekisstotakewithme a couple of months ago. ^^ Please enjoy ❤
(links to AO3 and the DFC masterpost are in the reblogs!)
“I’m not leaving you till you smile, y’know?”
There’s a gentle squeeze of his hand and BJ looks up at Hawk through heavy eyelids, his eyes red. Hawkeye crouches down and pulls him into a hug before the movement even registers to BJ. It’s a soft, warm hug and BJ wants to bury himself in the steadiness that is Hawk’s body against his.
He almost starts crying again, but he feely silly about it – and the next second, silly about holding back the tears.
***
Yesterday evening, a little kid had stood at the entrance of the Swamp, one hand in Radar’s, one hand deeply buried in a brown dog’s fur. The dog hadn’t been alright; they had been able to tell so at a glance. Hawkeye had gone and asked Potter if anyone would be able to help the animal, but upon taking a look at the dog, Potter had only shaken his head sadly. “Nah, son. I may know little of animals that aren’t horses, but this one, we can’t help anymore except by giving him a nice last couple of hours.”
BJ had been devastated to hear that the colonel’s assessment was the same as their own assumption. He offered to run a few blood tests, mostly for the kid’s sake, but with none of them a veterinarian and no clues regarding what was wrong with the animals but its heavy, rattling breath they were at a loss of what to do.
They did run the blood tests (as painlessly and quickly as they could) but it was hard to give the young kid any real hope regarding the animal’s chance of survival. Radar stayed by the boy’s side the entire time, trying to calm him down. BJ felt like Radar was the only one accomplishing anything, whereas he and Hawk were grasping at straws.
It was a mere hour or two later that the dog – named Bomi as they had learned from Radar – passed away.
Hawkeye ushered BJ outside, when he saw that Radar was doing a good job at comforting the kid and Colonel Potter was coming to help him.
“You’ve been shaking for the past hour, Beej,” he stated matter-of-factly. It didn’t have the sound of a question but BJ knew that it was one.
“He.. The dog reminded me a lot of my own dog, from back when I was a kid,” BJ eventually replied. Then, suddenly unable to hold back tears: “He got hit by the neighbor’s car when I was nine.”
Hawkeye led him toward the Officer’s Club and ordered him a drink.
***
“Tell you what, you’ll crawl into my cot with me and I’ll read you some of that novel my dad sent to me last month.”
“You’ve already lent me that one twice.” BJ’s defeated voice makes Hawkeye pull him even closer to himself.
“Yes, but Charles is in post-OP all night and you need some snuggling and a terribly bad crime novel to keep your mind off things for a while.” He pushes himself up from where he is crouching, pulling BJ up with him.
“Alright?”
There’s a tear running down BJ’s cheek and Hawkeye carefully swipes it away before giving him a peck on his cheek.
“Come ‘ere,” he asks him as he gently pulls BJ toward his cot and down.
BJ snuggles up closer when Hawk places a hand on top of his head, fingers running calmingly through his hair as he begins reading the story, and the smallest of smiles finally starts forming on BJ’s lips as he allows his eyes to fall shut.
BJ turns his hand and catches Hawkeye’s wrist, presses until he can feel the catch of the scaphoid. He wants to shake him, or hit him, or hurt him in some way that equals the howling loss let loose inside him. Because he knows Hawkeye Pierce and Hawkeye Pierce will lie through his teeth for him in this moment to try and make things better. And he doesn’t want any more lies.
“You fucking idiot,” BJ says. “If you won’t listen to me—”
And he pulls Hawkeye across the table and kisses him.
drawing for the fic we're all an indigo hue by monsterbate on AO3
Title: Stellar
Fandom: M*A*S*H
Pairing: Charles Winchester/Donna Marie Parker
Rating: Gen
Word Count: 4174
Summary: The year is 2530. A hum coming from beside him on the bench startled him and made him look down. Pierce’s digipad was still unlocked. He must have checked it only seconds before the new patient had been brought in. Charles didn’t mean to look; it was something only someone way below his station would do. But he had already seen the message before the lockscreen had turned the digipad’s screen dark. Charles quickly glanced away. I need to talk to you. I think I’m falling for Chuck. Someone... was falling for him? *** Sometimes it takes a crashing ship (not theirs) for two people to admit their feelings for each other. Space AU. :D
A/N: Part 21 of my Daily Fanfic Chocolates calendar :D I got the wonderful prompt "Overhearing they have feelings for you" for Donna and Charles from the wonderful @blue-ravens, who also helped tons with editing this fic - thank you so, so much, my friend, for everything <3333 Please enjoy ❤
(links to AO3 and the DFC masterpost are in the reblogs!)
It was approximately 9.45 am on the Gromea system’s moon Delta V when his latest patient was pushed out of the operating room on a hoverbed and Charles allowed himself a breather for the first time that morning. He had been up and working for six hours already and while he had been on Delta V for almost two years by now, the shorter day cycles still messed with his sleep pattern.
His gaze was drawn to the window. It wasn’t the lush blue grass outside that caught his attention mere seconds later though, but a tiny dot in the sky above them, lighting up for a single moment before fading. He quietly cursed under his breath. Unless they had seen the attack coming and had evacuated the ship in time, neither the hospital station on Delta V or any of the emergency shuttles would be able to help this ship’s crew anymore.
For a moment, Charles pondered the “what ifs”. What if there weren’t a war between two of Earth’s closest allies – friends, in fact? What if the tension between the Allea and the Onae had lasted longer than the 320 Earth years it had, but no war would ever have started? What... what if humanity was actually drawn into this messy war in the end, despite both warring parties having pledged to leave them unharmed, permitting them to help both their wounded? ...what if there were no war at all and there was no need for a doctor again?
But he knew that the 320 Earth years long tension were merely very short forty years to the Allea and the Onae and that the tension between both species had always pointed into the direction things would develop. Peace negotiations had been attempted by several allied species but to no avail. And no need for doctors? He briefly closed his eyes when he remembered.
The HealthBox disaster of 2314.
The doctor-replacing boxes, controlled by AIs, had been introduced area-wide after a very long and successful testing phase. They were used for daily check-ups, medicating and even surgeries, when there was a need for it. All that was needed was a HealthBox and its patient. Several weeks in, a network-wide system failure occurred, however, killing several thousand people who were, at that moment, inside the HealthBoxes. Charges were brought against the company that had developed the system, and while the idea of the HealthBox hadn’t been a bad one, per se, the idea was never taken up again, even as technology advanced.
Other species who used similar health systems, such as Earth’s first extraterrestrial ally, the CO2-breathing Elosians, agreed that the decision was a wise one. Humans were considered physiologically far too complex and more vulnerable to damage than other species.
Charles’s attention returned to the operating room as a new hoverbed was pushed into the room by one of the Elosians working on Delta V’s hospital alongside the human staff. The young Allea was Pierce’s next patient however, so Charles decided to check the wall terminal for news. It seemed like they were nearly done for the morning. He almost sighed when a thought occurred to him. So no one aboard the ship above Delta V had made it.
He shook his head to himself and had just returned to his part of the operating room, when the door opened and Hunnicutt walked in.
“Hawk?”
The tall doctor met the chief surgeon’s eyes and gestured toward the hallway with a movement of the head.
“Potter need any help with the young nel in the decontamination room?”
Hunnicutt nodded.
“Kid started bleeding really bad and Potter needs some swift fingers to fix ‘em.”
“Shit.”
Pierce was already running past Charles as Hunnicutt started moving in the opposite direction to fill in for his patient. Charles briefly considered pointing out that he could have taken over the patient, as well, but Pierce and Hunnicutt were PierceandHunnicutt and one better didn’t get in the way of the well-practiced team that they were. It had taken Charles not long to learn that they knew very well what they were doing, communicating without words at times, as much as he would never admit it out loud.
A hum coming from beside him on the bench startled him and made him look down. Pierce’s digipad was still unlocked. He must have checked it only seconds before the new patient had been brought in.
Charles didn’t mean to look; it was something only someone way below his station would do. But he had already seen the message before the lockscreen had turned the digipad’s screen dark. Charles quickly glanced away.
I need to talk to you. I think I’m falling for Chuck.
Now, he could be sorely mistaken. Maybe Pierce knew someone who knew a Charles they and Pierce knew. Maybe a Chuck. But Pierce had never mentioned anyone of this name besides Charles himself, and they had both been stationed on Delta V since the beginning of this war. Also, he kept insisting on calling Charles “Chuck” or “Chuckles”.
His heart... did something funny. He couldn’t put it in words, not exactly, a potentially fatal mistake for a surgeon, but he was distracted and those were in fact his emotions messing with him.
Someone... was falling for him?
But then he considered the nameless sender of the message, someone Pierce had only saved as a knife and a blood drop emoji in his contacts, and he shuddered. Did he actually want to know who that person was, should it really be him they were falling for?
He was still thinking about this while watching Hunnicutt fix up Pierce’s patient when the door to the operating room swung open and in walked Donna Marie Parker. Dubbed “helping angel” by him and many of the staff and – jokingly – “knife Donna” by Pierce, who claimed that it couldn’t be possible to legally collect as many blood donations as her team always managed to supply them with. (“Jealous?” was what she would always ask with a grin when he mentioned it, and ruffle his hair. Pierce’s disgruntled facial expression never failed to make Charles laugh quietly. Once, Donna had bowed after leaving a spluttering Pierce behind and Charles had applauded, feeling a smile spread across his face when their gazes met.)
With Donna came some of her crew, all of them carrying supplies. Her independent help organization was the one who provided them with the most supplies, which was even more impressive when one considered the size of her team. But a team’s success, especially when it came to collecting supplies and donations from others, was only as successful as its leader, and as Potter once had put it: “That woman can convince so efficiently and intuitively, she could start wars and end them. We can count ourselves lucky that she’s dead set on ending this one.”
Charles had only just stood up to offer his help when she was already speaking up, clearly scanning the room for what would have been the equivalent of, some centuries ago, their commanding officer. Thankfully, it wasn’t 1950 anymore, though with the interstellar wars still breaking out every once in a couple of centuries, it did occasionally give off the impression.
“Where is Potter? He’s going to be overjoyed, we got almost twice the donations this time than last time round.”
She was smiling, justifiably proud of her team and herself, and it was as if someone had placed the sun in the middle of the room, she was radiant.
Charles startled when he caught himself thinking about her like that. When had this started?
“He’s in the decontamination room, fixing up a young nel. I wouldn’t expect him back any time before noon.”
She nodded at Hunnicutt, who was just putting away his gloves. “We’ll just leave what we got you guys next to the shelves, along with a list.”
The surgeon nodded and gazed at the hoverbed with the patient he had just fixed up being pushed out of the room.
Charles, meanwhile, was busy looking at Donna curiously. One of the nurses helping with stashing the new supplies away apparently had made a joke that had her laughing, a deep, hearty sound – he could hear it clearly where he sat and he found that a smile was tugging on the corner of his lips.
Hunnicutt turned toward Charles, a light, tired smile on his face himself, glad about one more patient that had made it. Allea or Onae, it didn’t matter to him who was brought into the operating room. He just wished, like all of them, that it would end, and soon.
“We should use the midday calm to hit the mess in a few, don’t you think, Charles?”
Charles startled at the question directed at him. He was just about to agree when Potter’s voice sharply rang through the hospital’s speakers.
“Everyone, gather up the patients and the CO2 supply masks for the Elosians among us and leave the hospital right now. Orbit Control gave us a Code 9 warning – there is a ship coming down and it might just hit us if we don’t move quickly.”
There was some cursing coming from Pierce, who must still have been in the decontamination room with Potter, and then the message ended.
They were trained for emergency evacuation procedures. Some noise broke out as everyone on their own feet started to hurry, knowing that they had mere minutes, but some voices loudly and calmly demanded only necessary communication. It quieted down a little afterwards, but the shuffling of feet on the floor and the cries of worried patients still pulled on everyone’s nerves, the staff’s faces tense as they worked.
Charles helped Hunnicutt and the nurses, pushing patients on their hoverbeds outside, through doors and windows alike. That was the hardest but also the easiest part. The patients were restrained to the hoverbeds by their gravity control system and wouldn’t float away once outside, and the nurses could click several beds’ ends together to pull as many patients at once into safety as possible. Charles could see Donna out of the corner of his eye once. She was helping with the evacuation but also instructed her team to save a good amount of supplies. He wished he could tell her how grateful he was for her thinking this far. Should the hospital be destroyed, they’d be without supplies for at least a week.
They had just evacuated the last of the patients, Hunnicutt already heading for the door to join Pierce, Potter and their patient, whom they had hastily put into one of the bubble hoverbeds they had for contamination emergencies, when another noise became noticeable, much louder than the original jumble of noise after Potter’s announcement.
It grew louder by the second until, for a blinding moment, everything turned white and too loud to make running possible. The next seconds, debris started falling and dust started to rise. Then, the sound of a spaceship, small as it might have been compared to the fleet ships still warring up in space, falling slowly to its side, the outer hull tearing in the process, filled their ears.
Charles couldn’t see anything and there were shouts coming from all directions, several nurses clearly having hurried back to help them. He wanted to speak up so that they could find him, but there was too much dust in his throat. He stumbled forward, one step at a time, and a silent scream escaped him when a hand suddenly touched his nose and cheek.
The “Help” was so quiet he could barely hear it, but it was there. And as the dust started to finally settle a bit, he could make out where he was and that the person behind the fallen parts of wall and roof and shelves and other debris could be none other than Donna.
He hastily began shoving aside what he could move, glad to be mostly unharmed, several nasty gashes aside, and some minutes later the hand was followed by an arm and another hand and Donna began shifting what she could from where she was trapped to help him.
Finally, she was able to free herself and climb through the opening they had created. She stumbled forward toward him, feet catching on the obstacles strewn all across the floor, and he stepped forward, catching her with a hand holding each of her arms.
“Thank you, Chuck.” It was quiet, her voice clearly as affected by the dust as his, but he could hear her without effort, anyway.
Her eyes met his, and for a moment, all the noise around them seemed to have faded away.
“Of course,” he managed to croak and neither of them was looking away and–
“Charles! Donna!”
The noise came crashing back in.
“They’re here, Pierce!”
Margaret, the hospital’s head nurse, became visible and Pierce soon after, as well. Charles and Donna found themselves ushered out of the nearest door while Pierce quickly began explaining.
“We need to hurry, there are still patients aboard the ship and a mechanic among our patients gave us an estimate of–”
He automatically looked for his digipad and realized that, as it had been in the operating room at the time of impact, it was probably lost for good. Margaret checked hers as they kept moving toward the ship as fast as they could.
“We have about twenty minutes left before this ship’s core goes up. And it likely will go up, with a crash like this.”
They left the hospital and ran toward the nearest port the other staff had been able to find. The ship’s engines might have been heavily damaged, but some systems aboard were still running. The noise outside was nearly unbearable. For a moment, Charles wondered if space would also constantly be this loud, would the vacuum of space carry sound.
Hoverbed after hoverbed of Allean wounded was being pushed out of the ship. The four of them joined the already assembled staff and helped move the patients as fast and safely as possible. It was more strenuous now that they were outside, however. The Elosian staff had to constantly wear CO2-masks, and even though they all were wearing gravity controlling boots that kept them from gently floating with every step they took, moving felt slower. Margaret kept giving them updates on the time every minute and after seven minutes, at last, the last of the fifty patients had been saved. On Potter’s instructions, the staff began to hurry through the blue meadow, hoping to gain as much distance from the ship as possible. Charles and Donna found themselves in the rear of their procession, pushing the last chain of hoverbeds together with some of the nurses.
There were approximately eleven and a half minutes left, when Donna suddenly stopped walking. Charles startled and, after indicating to the nurses to keep walking, stepped closer.
“What is the matter?”
Donna looked at him earnestly and he knew that something was very wrong.
“Nobody looked for the pilots in all this mess.”
She was already running back toward the ship as fast as she could and he hurried along.
“They are most likely going to be dead, but we still need to try to save them, yes.” He held his side as they kept running, the talking and an atmospheric oxygen pressure lower than that of Earth’s making it hard for him to breathe properly.
“Don’t you understand?” Donna looked over her shoulder briefly. “If they die – or are dead already – and the ship explodes, leaving us without a clue of what exactly happened?” She halted to pick up a long piece of metal lying on the ground near the ship. “This whole incident will most likely end up being misused as war propaganda.”
Charles blanched when the realization hit him. “You’re right.”
Donna handed him another long piece of metal, likely planning for it to be used as a lever should they need it.
Then, they entered the ship.
They had left with the patients only some two minutes ago, but now there were already noticeable differences. For one, it was hotter inside than before – the core was close to overloading. They would have to get the pilots and themselves out of there, and quickly. The noise level, too, had increased over the course of the past few minutes.
“C’mon, Chuck, it’s not far to the bridge from here.” Donna’s voice was shaky, but her gaze was determined, and Charles knew that he would have followed her anywhere. He trusted Donna with his life – and if that wasn’t a realization requiring some thinking over. But he shook his head lightly and followed her deeper into the ship.
There were close to no lights on anymore the further they went, and the walls were occasionally bent from the impact, blocking parts of the hallways they wove their way through. It felt like they were taking forever when really, only two minutes had passed when Donna shouted, “There! I can see the door to the bridge at the end of the hallway!”
Charles was climbing over something that blocked the hallway to catch up, but just when he wanted to agree, a piece of ceiling paneling came loose and hit the back of his leg. Donna came running the second he yelled in pain and helped him back onto his feet. He looked up to give her a grateful smile and thank her, but the words died on his lips. Because for the first time, he saw her looking worried, scared even. And then she was turning away again already and he isn’t sure if he imagined the murmured, “Shouldn’t have let him come along.”
Charles wasn’t able to make up his mind on what to make of her utterance, so he pushed the questions aside for the moment. He evaded further dangers from here on, loose cables and other wall fragments, trying to ignore the pain in his leg as he followed Donna onto the bridge.
The pilots, much to their surprise and relief, were still alive. They were badly hurt and unconscious, trapped between their chairs and flight consoles, but once they’d have them out of there, they would be able to treat them.
The way back, once they had freed the pilots from their traps with the help of their makeshift levers, felt like it took them twice as long as the way in, but Donna had her digipad’s countdown set on speaker, informing them of the time they have left every minute. They had four minutes left by the time they made it out of the ship’s port, a pilot each slung over their backs.
And Charles felt like sobbing with relief because Pierce and Potter were there, having returned to the ship with hoverbeds and worry etched on their faces.
“One minute later and we would have left!” Pierce shakily commented as he took Charles’s charge off him and heaved her onto the hoverbed.
“Off we go, kids!” Potter commanded, taking a last look at the ship, the humming now growing louder.
And they ran.
They ran until breathing hurt and they couldn’t run anymore, but kept running anyway. Then, Pierce and Potter pulled the hoverbeds down as near to the ground as possible and they all lay down, covering the pilots and their heads as well as they could.
The next twenty seconds were some of the loudest any of them had ever experienced.
The ship exploded. They held their breath.
And then the debris started to hit the ground.
They were far enough away to be out of immediate danger, but the heavy thuds of ship parts hitting the ground made them flinch as much as the original explosion had done.
As they finally scrambled to their feet, they saw that the majority of the hospital had gone alongside the spaceship.
“Holy moly.”
They could only nod in agreement with Potter’s silent exclamation.
“Let’s hope they’ll send shuttles to fight the fire soon. For now, we need to find the rest of the gang and try to help these two, posthaste.”
Potter and Pierce took over pushing the hoverbeds again, Potter not allowing Charles to help since he had very well noticed his limp, as well as the blood staining parts of his pants leg.
That was how Charles found himself slowly trudging down the field alongside Donna. He kept trying to think of conversation starters, desperately wanting to say something, but came up with nothing every time round.
Her hand brushed against his after some minutes and he turned his head to look at her, ash in her hair and on her face, looking tired but... relieved.
She didn’t meet his gaze right away when she spoke up.
“Thank you, Chuck. For–” She looked up then, and Charles’s breath caught. “For trusting in me and coming along. I mean–”
And now that all the adrenaline was abating, she let out a slightly hysterical laugh.
“I mean – we could have died, Charles!”
And he looked at her blankly, because yes, he had come to the same conclusion much earlier already and he had followed her lead despite the impending danger.
“Chuck–” And she was looking at him with big eyes and he didn’t understand why she was looking so sorry for what had been a remarkably rational decision and – she pulled him into a hug that was so tight that it took his breath away.
“Donna,” he coughed. “Donna, dear, you’re asphyxiating me.”
And she let go as if stung by a bee, yet didn’t move away. Her breath was warm on his cheeks – alive – and below the dirt on her face she was blushing. And Charles thought that maybe, maybe he could be bold about his feelings for once, maybe say or do something silly, such as taking her hand in his, but then Potter’s voice cut through the air and interrupted the moment they were having.
As they continued walking, still a good hundred meters behind Potter and Pierce, it hit Charles. “You are the knife and blood drop emojis in Pierce’s contacts.” The words were out before he could hold it back. She turned her head towards him and gave him a funny look, surprise mixed with disbelief. Charles would have laughed if he weren’t so embarrassed to have taken so long to figure it all out.
“I am?” she asked, and he realized that she didn’t know, but he was one hundred percent sure somehow all of a sudden and he was grinning like a fool.
He stopped in his tracks and she instinctively did, as well.
“What is it, Chuck?”
He shook his head for a moment, wondering how it had taken him so long to realize that in this whole damn war, the best thing that had happened to him? Was meeting her. And he had been a fool for not letting her know how much he had grown to like her before.
There were dirt and ash and blood all over their faces and clothes and his hands were shaking as he took hers into his. But it was okay, it was okay now. They had saved everyone and likely had prevented a war turning worse than it already was in the process. They had time now.
And Charles’s thoughts were a jumbled mess as he watched her looking down at his hands holding hers gently and then back up at him. A smile blossomed on her face as their gazes met. She lightly squeezed his hands and rubbed her thumbs over them, waiting for him to form the next words.
And he wished he had more to offer than a meal at the canteen on the next moon they were going to be stationed on, but maybe, when the current situation was over and dealt with, they could both take some time off, just a few days and–
“Would you care to go out to dinner with me?”
And it was silent for a moment, as silent as it could be on Delta V with a huge fire burning nearby and the sound of shuttles approaching to put out said fire. If Charles weren’t so sure by now that she was returning his feelings, he might have excused himself and left as quickly as he could with his newly acquired limp. But she liked him. She had told Pierce that she was falling for Charles, in fact. And the looks and conversations they had exchanged over the course of the past two years... he had been so blind.
Before he could even start worrying after all, however, she took a step closer and nodded.
“Yes. Yes, of course,” Donna answered with a tremble in her voice and the beginning of a smile on her lips.
“Splendid,” Charles replied with an equally shaking voice and placed a hand on her check, brushing some of the dirt away.
Title: Roger Knows Best
Fandoms: Queen; M*A*S*H
Relationships: Hawkeye Pierce/BJ Hunnicutt; Roger Taylor & Hawkeye Pierce; Roger Taylor & BJ Hunnicutt
Rating: Gen
Word Count: 693
Summary: It is a rule universally accepted that exchange students from the same country will find each other within an astonishingly short amount of time.
A/N: Part 7 of my Daily Fanfic Chocolates calendar :D This is a fic I wrote as an in-universe short for my Deacon twins (John & Ritchie) AU some time ago! Please enjoy ❤
(links to AO3 and the DFC masterpost are in the reblogs!)
It is a rule universally accepted that exchange students from the same country will find each other within an astonishingly short amount of time.
It takes Roger's new American friend Ben - an exchange student from Maine - only a rough two weeks to spot a tall, sun-tanned blond in the crowded lecture halls of their Medical Ethics II class and drag Roger along to go find the guy again after class.
This is how Roger finds himself listening to the guy introduce himself patiently. BJ, as the guy is called - which got a loud bark of laughter and an eyebrow waggle out of Ben -, is a genuinely nice guy whose thrown-in funny remarks make Roger hope he'll be able to strike up a lasting friendship with him, as well. He is from the sunny state of California and training to be a surgeon. He is just as far with his studies as Ben, meaning that some of the quick back and forth chat between the two of them are like hearing a familiar-sounding but unknown language to Roger as a dentistry student. At one point, the three of them marvel at the fact that they all know Professor Potter, who is to hold a lecture in next week's Medical Ethics II class- he apparently travels the world a lot, being a much asked for guest lecturer.
It is when BJ's and Roger's stomachs rumble almost in unison that the group decides to head for the canteen. "I can't tell you how much better the food is over here than back in the States," Ben says to Roger as they wait in line to get a helping of today's main dish. BJ nods understandingly and lists several unsalvagable cases he has encountered at his university's canteen before and Roger shudders. Ben just laughs.
There's a sparkle, just a little one, in Ben's eyes a few times when he looks at BJ over lunch. Roger would never admit aloud that he absolutely loves playing matchmaker (God knows what comments that confession would get him from Deaky or Brian. He knows he'd have a partner in crime with Freddie, though), but he is tempted. He decides that BJ is a cool guy and probably won't hold a grudge for what Roger is about to do. He only hopes Ben will see he only means well, too.
"So. Have you got anyone back home who's waiting for you?" He asks them both, after (smoothly, he thinks, patting his shoulder mentally) changing the topic to relationships by commenting on a fellow student, a fierce-looking blonde, telling off a guy who clearly didn't know his boundaries. She then had walked away arm in arm with one of the nursing students Roger had talked with at a few campus parties before.
"No, can't say I have," BJ admits and Roger isn't imagining the tiny rise of his eyebrow when Ben agrees. It's now or never. His inner child is rubbing its hands together gleefully. He flips his finger against his tray once, then looks up, grinning. "You should ask Ben out, y'know? I think you two would be a great match." The last bit comes out rather fast, because Ben is turning to him with a facial expression that is both disbelief and panic at once.
"What the–" Is the only thing he manages to say though, because Roger is already pulling out his phone, looking at his notifications and continues talking. "Oh, it's twenty to two already, gotta go or I'll miss band practice, haha! See you, guys!" And off his is, his phone quickly pushed back into his pocket and the tray already in his hands, making his way to the tray return station.
Well, he never said that he was a professional matchmaker, did he?
He gets two text messages from Ben later though, telling him that his embarrassing stunt has been worth it.
I got a date this Friday. I can't believe this.
I owe you one.
Roger just grins to himself and pockets his phone again, making his way to the band practice room with a little spring in his step.
Title: A Winter Night
Fandom: M*A*S*H
Pairing: Hawkeye Pierce/Charles Winchester
Rating: Gen
Word Count: 4094
Summary: The last person Charles expected to find on his front door steps at 9pm during a Boston snowstorm had to be Hawkeye Pierce, wrapped up in a thick coat and scarf and looking like he was about to pass out. Aka Utter Fluff with all the Good Tropes: clothes-sharing, conversations over hot beverages, bad pick-up lines and slowdancing :D
A/N: Part 22 of my Daily Fanfic Chocolates calendar :D I got the lovely prompt “slowdancing” for Hawkeye and Charles from the wonderful @blue-ravens! <3333 Thank you so much for this prompt, because this fic ended up being one of my favourite things I’ve written this year! ^-^ Please enjoy ❤
(links to AO3 and the DFC masterpost are in the reblogs!)
The last person Charles expected to find on his front door steps at 9pm during a Boston snowstorm had to be Hawkeye Pierce, wrapped up in a thick coat and scarf and looking like he was about to pass out.
Charles was literally rendered speechless for a moment – a moment that Hawkeye used to hoarsely mutter, “Had nowhere else to go, Chuck.”
And Charles doubted that Hawkeye had no other place to go, at least, generally speaking. But before he could utter his incredulity, Hawkeye was already stumbling forward. Charles managed to catch him just in time, because as he looked down to ask him what the heaven he thought he was doing, he realized that Hawkeye had passed out.
Charles’s predominant reaction was worry and, after shifting Hawkeye in his arms somewhat, he pulled him inside the house as carefully as he could, given that he was handling a grown adult of no little height.
After a short trip, he put him down on the couch in the living room. He took a long look at the thin, lanky man in front of him, his hair even grayer than it had been the last time Charles had seen him. There were still lots of snowflakes all over his hair and coat, only slowly starting to melt now that he was in the warm. Charles shook his head in wonderment. Then, he got to work.
Hawkeye was regaining consciousness by the time Charles had spread a warm, cozy blanket over him and moved his head to rest against a soft cushion. The smell of tea and warm pastries already filled the room, as he slowly blinked his eyes open and was met by the sight of Charles, who sat in an armchair opposite of him, wearing a cozy-looking sweater and a concerned expression.
“I passed out, didn’t I?” His voice seemed to surprise him with its scratchiness, and Charles silently pushed a mug of tea over the coffee table between them and toward him.
“Thank you, Charles.” Hawkeye smiled at him, but his smile was met by a raised eyebrow.
“I have to admit that I have some questions. The most important one, as you can probably imagine, concerns your being here.”
Hawkeye took a slow sip from his tea and closed his eyes for a moment, savoring the warmth of the hot drink running down his throat. Then he opened his eyes again and looked straight at Charles.
“I think I managed to tell you before Morpheus got the better of me.”
“That’s one way to put it. But it doesn’t explain why you are here, in Boston during a snowstorm, of all places.” He paused and looked at Hawkeye, whose gaze wandered down to the floor for a second. “Please, do go on.”
Hawkeye took a deep breath, holding onto his mug of tea with both his hands like a lifeline. “Alright. But the story isn’t as dramatic as you might expect it to be. Sorry if I disappoint you.”
Charles didn’t let it on, but he felt relieved somewhat. The humorous Hawkeye Pierce he had known in Korea wasn’t a pale, cold icicle anymore, but thawing instead and crossing his legs as he made himself more comfortable on Charles’s couch.
“You know, there was this medical conference at the Boston General that ended earlier today.”
It was a question and Charles nodded. “I gave a lecture there today.”
“I know.” Hawkeye gave him a little smile. “I was there, in fact. In the back.”
The room had been rather large, so Charles didn’t feel bad about not having seen him. He was surprised though.
“You came down all the way from Maine to attend a two-day conference in Boston?”
“I heard you were giving a talk and I didn’t wanna miss it.”
Both of Charles’s eyebrows rose of their own accord, and he blushed. Then, rationality returned, and he shifted in his armchair, hands interlocked as he looked Hawkeye in the eyes.
“I’m not sure if you’re planning to play a very strange, very elaborate sort of practical joke on me five years after we last saw each other, Pierce, but–”
Hawkeye sighed.
“I am not.”
He didn’t meet Charles’s gaze as he raked his hands through now his slightly wet hair for a moment.
“I will gladly explain everything to you, but... ah.” He looked at Charles sheepishly. “Could I perhaps borrow some dry clothes from you first?”
Charles was beginning to itch to know more about Hawkeye’s sudden arrival, but, after a closer look at Hawkeye and his damp-looking clothes, he relented.
“Give me a few minutes, Pierce. You can already discard your damp clothes in the bathroom; we can wash them and put them in the dryer later.”
After showing him where to leave his wet shoes, he pointed Hawkeye, who was looking around the house in badly hidden curiosity, toward the bathroom and left to select some clothes his visitor could wear during his stay.
Charles found himself rummaging through his closet for a good couple of minutes until he settled on an old but soft beige sweater and some warm, black pajama pants that he hadn’t worn in ages. He also picked out a warm pair of socks – he had no idea how long Hawkeye had spent outside in the snowstorm, but judging by his boots’ state it must have been a rather long time. As unexpected as his visit was, Charles wouldn’t let anyone coming into his house get sick due to a lack of care on his part.
He knocked on the bathroom door and placed the folded clothes on Hawkeye’s outstretched hand. Then, the door closed again, and Charles turned around to return to the living room.
“Thank you, Charles.”
Charles paused and turned around halfway.
“Don’t mention it, Pierce.”
Somehow, Hawkeye’s last name came out softer than he was used to saying it.
Charles made for the kitchen and placed the croissants he had been warming up in the oven on the table in the living room, as well as two glasses of red wine, and waited.
About ten minutes later, a much more comfortable-looking Hawkeye returned to the living room. He had his hands stuffed into the pants pockets awkwardly and gave Charles a smile when their gazes met.
“Thanks again, Charles. I don’t think I’ll turn into Frosty now.” The joke fell flat somewhat as Charles gave him a court nod and indicated for him to sit down on the couch next to him.
“Wine, Charles?”
Charles nodded as Hawkeye sat down on the other side of the sofa.
“I thought you might enjoy some later. Now, how about you finally explain to me what had you come to my house of all places?”
Hawkeye nodded slowly, then turned slightly toward Charles, not quite looking at him.
“I booked a hotel in the outskirts of the city... I had only heard about the conference pretty late, and most hotels in the city center were either full already or overpriced.”
Charles nodded, even though he kept wondering what had Hawkeye make such a last-minute decision. It couldn’t have only been his lecture.
“Anyway, as you surly noticed, the snowstorm outside kicked in some time after the conference ended. Just when I was about to return to my hotel.”
Hawkeye still wasn’t looking at him, fiddling with his fingers instead.
“I, ah–” he started. “I looked up your address in my address book and saw that your place would be closer. I thought I could make it before the storm got too bad.” He laughed drily. “Well, I miscalculated.”
Charles didn’t notice that he was leaning in closer, interested in hearing how Hawkeye’s story continued.
“I realized halfway here that my money wouldn’t be enough for the entire cab ride, so I walked the rest of the way. The storm caught me and I spent the last forty minutes or so outside in the lousy weather. ...the end.”
Hawkeye gestured to dramatically underline the end of his story. He blinked in surprise when Charles caught one of his hands in his own hands and carefully ran a thumb over it.
“May I?” Charles said, then shook his head in embarrassment. “Sorry, I should have asked in advance.”
Hawkeye mirrored him.
“No, no, it’s alright, Chuck. Nothing warms me up more than a little hand-holding.”
“You could have gotten serious frostbite on your hands, Pierce,” Charles commented with a hint of worry in his voice. “Your hands are still cold and red, despite how long you have been in the warm already by now.”
He let go off Hawkeye’s hand and looked into the distance pensively for a moment. When he spoke again, Hawkeye was quietly staring at his own hands as if he was trying to figure something out.
“How long are you staying in Boston?”
Hawkeye looked up and shrugged.
“I don’t know. Depends on a couple of things, I guess.”
Charles looks at him, disbelieving.
“Such as the snowstorm out there. I obviously can’t fly back as long as it’s still wreaking havoc across the city.” His answer sounded almost defensive and Charles leaned back again a little.
“How long have you booked your hotel room for, then?”
“...two more nights.”
Charles nodded, not knowing what to add, or rather, how to ask what Hawkeye was planning to do in Boston the next two days. For some reason he wanted to know if there was anything else to Hawkeye’s visit besides a medical conference and perhaps some sight-seeing.
“You can stay here for as long as the situation outside remains this bad,” Charles found himself offering without thinking.
Hawkeye’s answer was a soft smile.
“Thank you, Charles.”
Charles wondered what prompted the occasional shift from Hawkeye’s nickname for him to his given name, then chided himself for feeling an odd warmth in his chest at considering the question.
This wasn’t Korea anymore. They were two doctors who weren’t colleagues anymore, but they also weren’t strangers anymore. A lot of their differences had been circumstantial. And the remaining ones...? Charles found that they didn’t matter even half as much as they used to anymore.
Trying to think of something to do or say, Charles spotted the wine glasses on the table next to them and picked them up. He handed Hawkeye his glass and smiled a little tightly.
“You worried me earlier, Pierce. The way you passed out on me without warning...” He took a sip of his wine and watched Hawkeye over the rim of his glass.
“Sorry about that again.” Now Hawkeye was hiding behind his glass. He looked... pensive and a little sad and Charles wasn’t sure what to do about it.
“It’s not like I don’t appreciate the company. But you could have called in advance. I could have sent you a cab.”
The thought had apparently escaped Hawkeye before and he looked up at Charles, his cheeks flushing.
“I might not have thought that far when I saw the heavy clouds after the conference. Sorry, Charles.”
“You don’t have to keep apologizing, Pierce.” Charles turned away a little, looking out of the window in front of them. “Lousy weather, that. I haven’t seen a snowstorm this bad since I was a young boy of about five years.” He looked into the distance, making a mental note to check in on Honoria as soon as possible. Perhaps they could go on a walk through the snowy Boston Common park sometime in the next few days.
He felt the couch dip slightly and saw Pierce turning around to look outside the window, as well. Somehow, he was sitting closer to him than before, and the tingling warmth inside Charles’s chest returned.
“You have a lovely home, Charles,” Hawkeye commented, looking outside and sipping slowly on his wine. They both looked at each other out of the corner of their eyes, and Charles nodded gently.
“Thank you.” Sometimes, however, a big house like this does feel lonely, is what he wished he could add but gulped down instead.
“I mean,” Hawkeye said, turning his head more toward Charles. “It’s not the house I mean, or not only the house. Ah–” He looked a little helplessly at Charles for a moment. “It’s clearly your house. It’s cozy and warm and just. Really nice. It’s not what I expected your house to be like but... I like it a lot.”
Charles could hear the sincerity in his voice and felt the warmth in his chest grow even further.
“I changed some things around here when I returned.”
Hawkeye nodded in understanding.
“A lot changed for all of us when we returned.”
He looked at Charles, and a smile spread on his face as he remembered something.
“Hey, did you know that BJ and Peg have a little son now?”
Charles looked at him in surprise.
“No, I didn’t. I’m afraid I haven’t been keeping in touch with many people from Korea. I never found a good enough reason to write.”
Hawkeye laughed softly.
“Charles, sometimes simply wanting to say ‘hi’ is a good enough reason. ...Peg let me know in confidence that she and Beej are working on organizing a reunion meeting next year.”
“That’s... really sweet.”
“I know. That’s just... how they are.” He fell quiet for a moment, then looked at Charles with slightly watery eyes.
“They named their newborn son Ben, you know?”
Charles didn’t know what to reply for a moment, he was rather touched by the gesture himself. Then he smiled.
“Congratulations on being the little Hunnicutt’s namesake then.”
“Thank you.”
“You... look rather sad – what’s the matter, Pierce?”
Hawkeye didn’t reply at first and put his glass of wine down instead.
“I just haven’t seen them in a long time. It must have been over a year now – last summer, when Ben was born. Erin has grown older and taller every time I see her. Did you know she calls me ‘uncle Hawk’?”
“I can’t say I’m surprised that the Hunnicutts have taken you into their family. They seem like fine people.”
Charles looked at Hawkeye for a long moment, hoping his attempt at making this conversation a little lighter and less sad was going to work. Somehow, Hawkeye looking sad even now that the worst was long over felt awful, and Charles wanted to fix it.
“The finest kind.”
“What about you?”
“Huh?”
“You mentioned your father a lot – how is he doing?”
Hawkeye smiled.
“He is well and still working more than he probably should at his age. But his hands are as steady as ever, and... he smiles a lot. I’m glad I came back and could give him that. He sounded older than he is over the phone back then.”
Charles turned a bit more toward Hawkeye.
“I’m glad.”
Charles genuinely was. He wondered, however.
“Did you ever settle down?”
“No, still as free as a bird. How about your sister, is she well?”
Charles pretended not to notice the swift change in topic.
“She is, thank you for asking. I see her at least once every week when we take walks through the city’s parks together.”
Hawkeye smiled again, and Charles felt oddly proud.
“I, ah,” he started. He might just tell Hawkeye now that he was here. “I did try to... make some friends at the General since I came home.”
“You did?” Hawkeye looked surprised, then somewhat ashamed. “Sorry, I didn’t mean–”
“I know,” Charles said, reassuringly. “And you’d be right with your assessment. I didn’t have a lot of friends before Korea. And I must admit I still have some trouble striking up friendships as fast as you do, but... Your and Hunni– BJ’s friendship taught me that it’s good to have someone to talk to who understands.”
Hawkeye looked at him rather intensely, and Charles soldiered on.
“I haven’t found anyone who quite understands what we saw in Korea, but... I did make some work friends, at last.”
He smiled at Hawkeye, who was still looking at him silently.
“So – thank you, Pierce.”
Hawkeye just shook his head lightly. Charles wasn’t sure if he heard correctly but Hawkeye muttered something sounding suspiciously like “You keep amazing me, Charles” under his breath. Then, Hawkeye looked away and nodded.
“It’s good that you’re meeting people, Chuck.”
“Work colleagues, but... yes.”
“I know how hard it is to find someone who understands.” Hawkeye’s voice was quiet, and he picked up his wine glass again. “There are some other things... most just don’t understand. Still not, sadly.”
The non-sequitur made Charles hold his breath for a moment. He didn’t want to misinterpret what Hawkeye was saying but...
Charles realized that Hawkeye had noticed his wondering look and was staring back at him. And, all of a sudden, something in the atmosphere shifted.
Hawkeye laughed hoarsely, and Charles knew that it was his nerves. He knew he was expecting something to happen, but just what it was, he couldn’t tell.
“You should be a cardiologist, Charles.” Hawkeye’s eyes darted away for a moment but found Charles’s again when Charles froze.
“You do some very odd things to my heart...”
Charles’s stomach did some funny things at that, but, despite his open mouth, he didn’t know how to reply. His face felt hot, but he couldn’t look away from Hawkeye’s almost hopeful expression.
“I’d specialize in you, you know?”
“Pier–”
“I know all the causes for heart attacks, but... I can’t explain why I feel about you the way I do. Still.”
Still?
Charles’s own heart did something he couldn’t quite explain either, and Hawkeye was going to have to stop soon or Charles might just end up having a heart attack himself.
“Maybe...,” Hawkeye started again, shifting a little bit closer to Charles. “You should take my temperature?” He was seemingly starting to regain his nerves, while Charles was on his way to lose all of his. “Because I’m feeling rather hot right now.”
He was smirking, oddly proud of what was perhaps the cheesiest pick-up line Charles had ever heard.
“This is horrible, Pierce,” Charles couldn’t help but reply, his trembling hand covering his eyes for a moment and the laughter evident in his voice. There was an appreciative sparkle in Hawkeye’s eyes when he looked back at him. “What, did you lose all your charm back in Korea?”
The second it was out, he already regretted what he had said. The smile on Hawkeye’s face had faded for just a moment, then it was back again, but Charles wanted to, needed to apologize.
“Pierce, I–”
He hadn’t wanted to break the moment they were having.
But Hawkeye was much closer all of a sudden and Charles could feel the ghost of his breath against his throat.
“I beg to differ. How about you... let me prove you wrong?”
And Charles’s gaze escaped to wherever Hawkeye’s didn’t meet his, and his breathing hitched. Then Hawkeye laughed, his hand resting on Charles’s chest warmly – grounding – for a moment.
“I didn’t think you were this easy, Chuck!”
And Charles flushed and glared at him. Tilted his head and moved closer than Hawkeye had and countered in a much quieter, meaningful voice: “I think it takes more than whispered words to prove one’s charm.”
And he about smirked more than Hawkeye had ever seen him do and leant back against the couch again. Inside, he was shaking with nerves, but the result was more than worth it: Hawkeye was left staring at him with his mouth slightly open and his gaze full of confusion and awe.
“Pierce, I–”
“It’s ‘Hawkeye’, Charles.” Hawkeye’s voice was soft.
“Hawkeye, I–”
He didn’t know what to say, where to start. Hawkeye did, however. Of course he did.
“I already liked you six years ago, Charles. Back in Korea.” Hawkeye scooted closer, and their knees touched lightly.
“I always assumed you were flirting with everyone because that was your... ‘Thing’.” Charles shook his head, not looking away. “I... didn’t think you could have been serious, not about me.”
“You never reacted to any of my attempts at getting something out of you.”
“Did you think I would, back then?”
“You never said ‘no’, either.”
“But I avoided your hints, as you well noticed.”
“Would you do so now?”
Charles noticed Hawkeye’s hand resting between their legs only then; an offer, perhaps. And, suddenly and with a surprising certainty, he just knew that this was going to be alright and that he could finally let go of the burden he had carried all of his life.
The moment he did, his hand covered Hawkeye’s softly, and Hawkeye’s eyes were wide open like he was still unable to comprehend that Charles was not avoiding him any longer but was actively reaching out for him.
Charles smiled, and he couldn’t help himself, his eyes kept flickering down to Hawkeye’s lips once or twice before they returned to the most gorgeous set of blue eyes he had ever seen.
“No, not anymore.”
And yes, he knew very well that Hawkeye was expecting a kiss, it was written all over his body language, and Charles would have complied happily, but something inside him made him stand up slowly, telling a confused Hawkeye ‘wait here for a moment, please’, and put on one of his favorite calm records.
He smiled down at Hawkeye as he returned to the couch and offered him a hand up.
Hawkeye looked at him in surprise but followed him to the middle of the living room, his hand holding gently onto Charles’s. And Charles’s heart started beating even faster when Hawkeye moved to stand in front of him without a single word from Charles.
“You are one of a kind, Charles. And I mean that in the best way only.”
Charles didn’t reply, but he felt color rise to his cheeks as he reached forward and carefully pulled them closer together.
The first steps around the room were awkward, Hawkeye moving far too stiffly and neither of them sure where to hold the other, but then Charles placed his hands on Hawkeye’s waist and steadied him.
It went more smoothly from there on. Yet, Charles could see the great vulnerability Hawkeye was feeling in his eyes, could feel it in his still somewhat stiff posture.
Charles felt brave enough to continue acting as the more confident one and reached out and placed Hawkeye’s hand over his heart.
“Relax.” He felt his own heart hammering against Hawkeye’s fingertips. “I feel it, too.”
The sweet smile Hawkeye gave him in return was worth it.
They continued dancing around the living room slowly. Hawkeye eventually moved closer and rested his head on Charles’s shoulder, and Charles could feel that he was starting to relax at last. He considered the vulnerability Hawkeye was openly letting him see and vowed to never betray his trust.
“Charles, I–”
Hawkeye broke the silence and lifted his head slowly. Charles turned his head to look down at him, and, for a moment, they both hesitated, simply breathed into the air between them. Then, Hawkeye closed his eyes with a shaky breath and kissed him.
Charles found himself kissing back without needing to think about it, and he started to gently run his fingers through the back of Hawkeye’s hair as they kept kissing. He felt the urge to close his eyes and savor the feeling as well, but he kept them open to savor the sight of Hawkeye right in front of him, instead.
It took them several minutes until they managed to break apart, slowly. Hawkeye held onto Charles’s arms as if to steady himself.
“I came to Boston to see you.” Hawkeye looked at him, his gaze urgent. “But I didn’t plan on coming here to take shelter from the storm.” He gulped. “I didn’t think I’d ever get to kiss you, Charles.”
He turned his head, looking out of the window, but kept holding onto Charles’s arms as he added, with a chuckle and in a much quieter voice: “But maybe, I was hoping for a chance after all. Maybe that’s why I came here all along.”
Charles reached out and gently turned Hawkeye’s head back toward him, smiling at him happily.
“If so, please let me know how I can offer my thanks to you for following your heart.”
Hawkeye just smiled and kept his eyes open as he leaned in again and kissed Charles softly.
Title: Snow Kisses
Fandom: M*A*S*H
Pairing: Charles Winchester/Donna Marie Parker
Rating: Gen
Word Count: 1186
Summary: She is smiling widely and there’s laughter that is barely contained in her voice and he melts at the sight in front of him. Tooth-rotting fluff. ❤
A/N: Part 12 of my Daily Fanfic Chocolates calendar :D This is a fic that I wrote for a prompt sent to me by my dear friend @onekisstotakewithme a couple of weeks ago. ^^ Many thanks to @blue-ravens for checking the fic for grammar etc., and both of you for the support! <3333 Please enjoy ❤
(links to AO3 and the DFC masterpost are in the reblogs!)
He doesn’t have to reach out for her – actually, he’s pulling back his arm the second he realizes what he’s about to do – because she is turning around before he has the chance to do anything. Anything that might pull him in deeper than he already is. He is certain she hadn’t seen him before – if he hasn’t figured her out all wrong, it isn’t in her nature to run from anything, anyone, and he can’t think of anything he might have done to warrant her running away from him – and he hasn’t even uttered a word when her hand reaches out and takes hold of his.
His heart stutters and the cold betrays him, making his breath come out in small, white clouds.
“Chuck! I didn’t expect to–”
Her eyes are wide and oh-so-full of fondness and he might have let his gaze linger longer, but he noticed that her hands are red and they must be cold, so he gently slips his own hands out of her grasp and takes off his gloves. He has to switch the bag that he was carrying from one hand to the other, but he does it quickly, and then he is already pulling his gloves over her hands.
Hands taking hold of him anew the second he is done.
“Chuck.”
She is smiling widely and there’s laughter that is barely contained in her voice and he melts at the sight in front of him. He can’t help but return the smile, likely making a fool of himself, but he has learned to accept exceptions in his life (it all might have started with allowing Pierce to make him show the sillier side of himself more often, but that’s of no importance right now) and he is being pulled into a fierce hug before he is able to say a single word to her.
When he does, it is breathed out silently, reverently, and for a moment, it is as if the world around them has disappeared.
“Donna.”
And then her smile is blossoming into a full-on grin and she is laughing, but not mocking him in the slightest, he can tell, and then she’s on her tippy toes and kissing his nose and alright, maybe there are some things that still embarrass him in public but it’s not her and he is consciously trying to get over those old habits and–
She is kissing him and laughing and suddenly he can’t help it, a chuckle escapes him, and then another and another. And soon they are both laughing and kissing and he doesn’t even think about looking around to see if anyone’s watching them, he’s so entranced, so enthralled by her.
And he doesn’t notice the first light, cold touches against his cheeks and hands but she does and she looks at him with a twinkle in her eyes and he knows that, beside her, he will never age. Time has already proved as much to him, but he revels in the moment, and he can tell and knows she can as well, and it’s all he could have dreamed of and more.
And she’s smiling, still, as she asks: “You are going to let a lady get wet?”
And he splutters and it only worsens when she winks in a very over-the-top way and he knows she’s messing with him and he loves her for it, but he also realizes only then that the light wet snowfall has started to increase, beginning to turn patches of their coats to a darker color.
When he doesn’t respond, she laughs and it warms the entirety of him, he loves her so much, how was it possible to adore someone so ardently, and she places her hands on his cheeks, cupping his face softly. She presses her nose gently against his and it’s cold but also makes warmth spread through him, and for a moment, he has forgotten about the cold, wet weather again. He closes his eyes and feels himself on the verge of saying something he’s been meaning to for a while.
Then her hand is taking hold of his again and his eyes snap open, and she’s pulling him along through the wintry streets of Boston, like two silly teenagers in love, and at a moment he can’t pinpoint, they start laughing. And they’re out of breath, but they keep running and laughing, the latter becoming harder by the minute because of the former, and he should stop, because what if they get sick, but he doesn’t.
When they reach the house, the snowfall has become a wild flurry of big, wet snowflakes and there are water and icy flakes in equal amounts on both their clothes, on both their hair. And she’s pulling him in by the lapels of his winter coat, like the magnet she feels like, oppositely polarized so that she matches him, and kisses him, longer now that warmth is close-by.
It is several minutes before they break apart and one of them manages to open the door, only to find that inside feels just as warm as outside had started to, and Charles knows that, while it won’t be today after all, he will soon ask the question that has been on the tip of his tongue for a long time now.
Much as he is trying to overcome some of the prejudices and bad habits encouraged by his upbringing, some values remain, and one of these is that some things, such as a good wine, take a long time to become what they are. And she’s above any good wine – he shudders at that thought, she is so much more, she is everything –, anything his upbringing could ever have presented him with. And maybe it took them some years to find each other again after the war, as well as a lot of reorganizing their lives after that, but falling in love was easy, oh-so-easy, and if she were to ask, he’d say that he was falling more and more deeply every day, still, after all this time.
“Chuck?”
He can see her curly head peeking out of the kitchen.
“Hmm?”
Then he remembers that she took both their shopping bags there, which includes the other smaller but more significant purchases he made earlier. He is about to start panicking – it’s only too bad that he can hide that from anyone but her – when she turns around and shows him the pictures of the get-together she had printed, and his breath catches again at the memories of last month. Much talking, pointing at pictures smilingly and reminiscing later they call it a day and head to bed.
His purchases are hidden for now and he can’t help but smile at her sleeping form beside him, always beside him, as the street lights outside shine their warm, orange light through their bedroom curtains. He falls asleep with a smile tugging on the corner of his lips and a hand soon covering his own, and in the soft light of the street lamps outside, a flurry of snowflakes is waltzing.
Title: I Spy a Spy Spider
Fandom: M*A*S*H
Pairing: Charles Winchester/Donna Marie Parker
Rating: Gen
Word Count: 1755
Summary: Nothing helped more in a dire situation than having the support of a beloved co-worker after all. Zoo AU; they’re dating and Flagg is being his usual insufferable self. ❤
A/N: Part 18 of my Daily Fanfic Chocolates calendar :D This is a fic that I wrote for a prompt sent to me by my dear friend @onekisstotakewithme a while ago- “Did you just propose to me?” ^^ Please enjoy ❤
(links to AO3 and the DFC masterpost are in the reblogs!)
There was a spider in her lab.
In and for itself, that wouldn’t have been much of a problem. She was used to spiders, almost something sort of friend with them, seeing how so many lived next door to her. She wasn’t afraid of most of them either.
But this was a big one – a familiar one.
“Chuuuuuck!”
Nothing helped more in a dire situation than having the support of a beloved co-worker after all.
He came running through her lab’s door only moments later, safety glasses in his hand.
“What is it, Donna, dear?”
She just pointed at the wall and its recurring occupant quietly.
“Oh, hell no.”
Charles seldom swore, but they had been in this situation far too often by now for the two of them not to slowly but surely get annoyed by it.
“Is that one of Flagg’s spy spiders I spy?” He said it with a rise of the eyebrow and a critical glance at the spider in question.
Donna couldn’t help it, she snorted.
“Okay, that was awful but true, and you get a lab point for that.”
“Allow me to get another one and aah–” He was already standing on the tip of his toes, an empty big glass vessel from her workbench already in his hand.
“Come here, spidey spidey.”
Donna chuckled and watched as Charles stretched his arm out some more.
“Aaaaaaa–”
Both Charles and Donna gave a jump at the sudden shout.
“ –ha!”
They turned around in unison to stare at–
Flagg.
“I knew you weren’t actually supportive of my spiders! I betcha don’t approve of my plans for the new big terrarium either! But now I have proof–” He held up his phone. “And I will go to the zoo administration in the morning! What? Did you think you’d just get away with trying to hurt Amelia?”
Flagg marched toward the wall, pushing a baffled aside Charles as he did, and held out a gloved hand for the spider to climb on. To Donna and Charles’s surprise, the spider immediately started crawling toward him.
“There we go. Hello, my dear.” Flagg held up the spider at eye level to inspect it more closely. “You better be glad that she is unharmed, y’know?”
“What the hell, Flagg?” Donna just stared at him, however more angry than perplexed by now. “You let a poisonous spider escape that you blame us for wanting to catch- and bring back to you?”
“Now, listen here, Miss Parker–”
“No, Sam, you are going to take that spider and get it back to where it belongs. And then you’ll stop ‘accidentally’ letting them escape. God knows we’re busy enough as it is trying to work, but do you know what would happen if Amelia or one of her friends would have fallen into one of our chemical solutions, for example?” She stared at him firmly. “Do you want your spy spiders to dissolve? I don’t want that for them, Chuck doesn’t want that for them–” Charles nodded. “And I’m sure you don’t want that for them either.”
Flagg was silent. But just for a moment.
Then he pointed at Donna with his spider-free hand.
“This isn’t over yet, Miss Parker.”
Flagg turned around sharply to leave the room, when suddenly, Charles felt something on his leg.
“Oh good god.”
He said it so quietly that not only Donna looked into his direction immediately, but Flagg paused and turned around, as well.
A long brown snake, a jararaca, was currently making its way up his pants leg.
“Flagg, this has gone too far. Take it back. Now.”
But Flagg didn’t move.
“Do you want me to die at this animal’s whim?” Charles’s voice was starting to sound somewhat high-pitched. He wasn’t entirely sure how venomous the snake was, but he knew that it belonged to those that they were considering to be at least somewhat dangerous.
“Don’t move, Chuck!” Donna suddenly instructed him, coming toward him from the supply shelves at the side of the room. She wore thick protective gloves, a determined expression and quickly took hold of the jararaca.
Then she marched toward the door, quickly.
“Flagg, move!”
Flagg... moved?
“Door.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Now let’s hurry to get this one back behind glass again, asap.”
Charles walked toward the door and stared after them, Donna giving Flagg short and sharp instructions on what to do to help get the animal back to its terrarium safely and quickly.
He remained standing in the doorframe for several minutes, trying to regain his composure. He wasn’t certain but perhaps he could have died, and all of that only because Flagg was hell-bent on ‘proving’ that everyone (and especially the lab team, for some reason) was against his plans for a new terrarium by documenting situations – that he had created himself – that allegedly showed them treating his animals badly.
Charles considered writing the man a letter and telling him that what he really needed for his plans to get approved was an actual financial plan, crucial but lacking in Flagg’s requests so far. Maybe then they’d finally get some peace in the lab once again. At least for a while.
Donna returned after a few minutes, shaking somewhat, and Charles took one glance at her before pulling her into a hug.
“It almost bit me when I put it back.”
Deadly or venomous or not – Charles considered going to Flagg right this instant and telling him off for today and all the other incidents over the course of the last few months. But Donna was still in his arms and had just rested her head against his chest. He could very badly leave her now. Weren’t he so concerned for her (and the rest of the team’s) workplace safety due to Flagg continuing to breach it, the thought of letting go would never even have occurred to him.
Donna started laughing shakily, making his attention return to the present situation.
“Chuck?” She looked up at him but didn’t let go of him as she kept talking. “You do realize that you owe me another dinner now? That should certainly count as the two lab points I was still missing.”
Charles just nodded softly and slowly ran a hand over her hair as she leaned her head back against his chest, shaking it lightly.
He would have asked her out on another date soon anyway, silly lab points or not. They had only been an excuse for the first time she had wanted to be able to ask him out on a date anyway.
He remained quiet as he looked at her with a fondness that had long been going beyond words already. Donna...
She was clever enough to take it up with anyone at the zoo, including Hawkeye when he was feeling extremely witty, tough and strong-minded enough to take it up even with the nuisance Flagg, a splendid conversation partner, including when they were discussing classics, and the unquestioned champion of the science section’s bi-weekly Friday evening trivia quiz game. Add to that her charming personality and endearing sense of humor and–
“Donna, please marry me.”
He had said it quietly, under his breath, but the moment the words escaped his mouth he knew that he meant it, wants this, from the bottom of his heart.
The next second, he began to lose his nerves. Donna let go of him and moved a step back, looking him into the eyes with an intensity that made him gulp nervously.
Had he really just proposed to her?
“Chuck, we’ve been on... what. Ten dates so far?” Her voice was soft, but...
Charles felt like he was mere seconds from running away. And two more seconds from realizing that it would be pointless, as they both knew the zoo better than their own lab coat pockets.
In the end, he let out a deep sigh and looked away for a moment, before moving to place his hands on her arms and dropping them again the next instant.
When their gazes met, he suddenly calmed down enough to tell her what he had been thinking about for weeks already. On the one hand, ten dates seemed like very little to him, as well, but they had known each other for five years already, worked together, gone on weekend trips together... He was sure she was the one for him. He took another steadying breath and smiled at her.
“What can I say?” He took hold of one of her hands. “I love you.”
If red lories were red, Donna’s cheeks turned redder after his confession.
She moved to hide her face behind her hands but Charles wouldn’t have any of it.
“Donna? Donna, dear, please – talk to me?”
When she moved her hands down again slowly, Charles saw that there were tears running down her cheeks. Charles stared at her in shock for a second. Had he just ruined the best thing he had in his life? How was he going to fix this? What–
“Charles, calm down.”
And Donna was laughing despite the tears that were still running down her face. “It’s alright.”
“Alright?” Charles kept staring at her, unsure of what to do next.
How was this alright? He had accidentally proposed to the woman he loved and she had started to cry and now she was laughing and–
“Charles!”
She suddenly closed the distance between them and held him tightly.
“Does it calm you if I tell you I’ll say ‘yes’ if you just give me a little more time?” She paused when she noticed that he had stopped breathing. “I’m not going to say ‘no’, alright? I just need a little more time. But I’d... I’d love to marry you, Charles.”
She looked up and smiled at him, bright as the sun that he secretly liked to compare her to.
“Oh.”
She chuckled quietly and stood on her tippy toes to kiss him gently on the nose.
“I love you, Charles.”
And, realizing his unfounded worries, he simply knew that she wouldn’t say ‘no’, no matter when he would ask her again.
He put his arms around her and rested his forehead against hers.
“And I love you. Donna.” His voice was nearly inaudible, he said her name so softly.
Then, he smiled at her, almost grinning.
“Our future grandchildren won’t hear that spiders and snakes were involved in this proposal.”
Donna just grinned back at him and couldn’t suppress a chuckle.
