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1963 – 10 YEARS AFTER END OF HOSTILITIES IN KOREA
Grand Central is bustling as always, BJ craning his neck to see over the crowds.
Normally the masses of people would make him nervous – and occasionally he catches a glimpse of kids in uniform, the hair on the back of his neck standing up at the sight – but he’s singularly focused.
Somewhere, in this madding crowd, is Hawkeye.
And BJ, clutching a crumpled letter in his hand, smearing the ink with nervous sweat, is hanging on to a promise they made years ago, a throwaway joke for a throwaway love.
He’s scanning the crowd for the sight of salt and pepper hair that he’s sure has trended more towards salt by now, has one ear cocked for the sound of that terrible, wonderful laugh, sure that the sun coming through the windows will make a crown of silver in Hawkeye’s hair, the same way it did the first day they met.
What if he doesn’t come?
What if he’s at home, with no cares in the world, not knowing that BJ is waiting under the clock in Grand Central Station, waiting for him?
BJ has broken so many promises.
And there are so many more unspoken ones, ones they haven’t even made yet.
But this one, at least, he can keep.
“Don’t worry, darling,” Peg murmurs, squeezing his hand, before extricating the damp letter from his hands and smoothing it out, before returning it to BJ’s shirt pocket. “He’ll be here.”
“You have a lot of faith in him.”
“And you don’t?”
“You know I do. I just… what if it’s too much to hope-?”
“In New York?” Peg asks, amused. “It’s the city to be hopeful, darling. ‘Always it believes that something good is about to come off, and must hurry to meet it.’”
“Are we in a hurry?”
“No,” she says, and her smile is like the sun coming in through the window, the light turning her hair into a halo of gold as it falls around her face. “We have all the time in the world.”
BJ can’t resist tucking a stray lock of hair back behind her ear. “We do.”
“And we’ll figure it out.”
“You’re quite the optimist.”
“Part of my charm. We will figure it out, darling, I know we will.”
“You’re very brave.”
“Or very naïve,” she teases back. “What’s worrying you?”
“What isn’t?”
“He’ll be here.”
“C’mon Peg, it’s not just if he shows up. It doesn’t… it doesn’t mean anything.”
“It means plenty, and you damn well know that. He wants to see us, darling. He said as much.”
“We haven’t made any promises-”
“There’s still time,” she says again. “Let me have a little faith?”
“One of us has to.”
She smiles, thoughtful, before asking, “Is Hawkeye much of a dancer?”
BJ blinks at the segue. “I don’t know.”
“You never saw him dance?”
“Well sure I did, but I wasn’t grading him. I’m not Arthur Murray.”
“No, you’re not.”
“We didn’t exactly have a lot of time for dancing in Korea.”
Peg almost smiles. “I don’t know, darling, from what I hear you had quite the two-step in the operating room.”
“It’s even more impressive, considering I have two left feet.”
“So Hawkeye would be an improvement. Or at least, compared to you, he’d be all right.”
BJ groans at the pun, as Peg squeezes his hand. “You’re a menace.”
“I do try.”
“He’s late.”
“I didn’t think you specified a time, darling, beyond ‘ten years after the war ends.’ That leaves it a bit open-ended.”
BJ glances back down at her, unflappable in the face of everything the two of them have been dreaming of.
But as she raises her wrist to check the time on her battered silver watch, BJ can see that her hand is shaking – and he feels a little better.
“Uh, honey…?”
“Yes?”
“You know we’re standing under a clock. You can check the time there.”
Peg shoots him an annoyed look, but it makes him laugh, easing some of his nerves as she cranes her neck to look up at the huge clock above them.
“Hm. It’s a few minutes fast.”
“That’s not reassuring.”
He still feels like he’s swallowed an entire hive of bees, jittery and anxious, and it’s nice to know that Peg is as nervous as he is.
And then, across a crowded room, he hears someone calling his name, his head whipping up.
His eyes land on Hawkeye, who grins when BJ meets his gaze.
It’s the kind of grin BJ had forgotten about, the kind that gets you through the cold nights and bad food and long OR sessions.
The kind of grin that feels like everything you’ve been missing, filled with possibility and promise.
And now he’s striding across the station, dropping his suitcase at BJ’s feet before pulling him into a tight hug, squeezing all of BJ’s breath and nerves out of him.
“Beej,” he breathes into the fabric of BJ’s shirt, and despite every way BJ has imagined him in the past few months, since concocting this crazy plan, it still doesn’t live up to reality.
“Hey Hawk.”
“Don’t hog him, BJ,” Peg murmurs.
Hawkeye pulls away, beaming at BJ, and despite the momentary hesitation, it’s like they were never apart.
And then he turns to Peg. “Peggy.”
“Hi Hawkeye.”
“I guess BJ’s not worried about me stealing away with you.”
She laughs. “Only if he can steal away with us.”
“I’m told you’re a hell of a dancer.”
“Some things are better kept a mystery, darling,” she says, smiling. “But it’s good to see you.”
“The Big Apple of my eye – I swear you’ve only gotten prettier in all the time I’ve known you. I’m starting to see what’s appealing about New York. ‘All the mystery and beauty in the world,’ and all.”
“He’s been here for five minutes and he’s already quoting The Great Gatsby,” Peg says teasingly to BJ, who is grinning so hard his entire face hurts. “Rein him in, won’t you, darling?”
“Sorry, honey, but nobody ever has.”
“And believe me,” Hawkeye says with a grin. “Many have tried.”
“Do you always flirt like this?”
“Who said anything about flirting?” When Peg raises an eyebrow, Hawkeye gives in. “I like to think I have a certain flair.”
“Oh, definitely.”
“I’m… glad you made it, Hawk,” BJ says softly, and Hawkeye’s raucous grin turns softer as he turns to look at him.
“It’s good to see you, Beej. Both of you.”
“BJ didn’t think you’d be here.”
“Peggy!”
“I always keep my promises,” Hawkeye says, looking between them. “I think I even swore on a pair of clean socks.”
“The most solemn vow you could make in Korea.”
“Besides,” Hawkeye says cheerfully, picking his suitcase back up before looping his arm through Peg’s. “BJ promised he’d buy.”
“Did he now?”
“He did. But then again, I think I agreed that he could lead…”
“That’s a pretty rotten bargain. He lets me lead sometimes.”
“I’m willing to be democratic about it. We’ll put it to a vote. Who leads?”
“Peggy.”
“Me,” Peg says at the same time.
They grin at each other, so natural together in their conspiracy of mischief, before turning to BJ.
“Will you two be ganging up on me a lot?”
“As often as we can.”
“Is that a promise?”
“Life’s more fun that way, darling. C’mon.”
“So,” Hawkeye asks, as they step out of the station. “Where to first?”
“I believe I promised I’d take you dancing. Both of you.”
“But we can go anywhere,” Peg says, grinning. “We have all the time in the world.”
“Do we?”
“Or at least until whenever the train takes you back to Boston,” Peg says, straightening the collar of Hawkeye’s shirt.
As BJ watches, Hawkeye covers Peg’s hand with his own, his expression tender. “I’m here as long as you’ll have me.”
“Good.”
“Where’s Erin? I thought she’d be here, all gangling and moody like any other teenager.”
“She’s back at the hotel.”
“And she won’t mind that we’ve gone out dancing?”
“Oh, I don’t think so.”
BJ hails a cab, and when one pulls up, he holds the door open so Peg and Hawkeye can squeeze inside.
“Tell me, Hawkeye,” Peg says cheerfully. “Know any good steps?”
“A few. But I’m willing to learn.”
BJ crams himself in beside them, Hawkeye stuffed in the middle of him and Peg as the cab pulls away from the station.
“Where to?” The cabbie asks.
“The nearest ballroom, and step on it,” BJ says, his fingers lacing through Hawkeye’s. “We’re going dancing.”
Hawkeye’s eyes are gleaming. “And then?”
“And then, darling… the world is our oyster.”
Hawkeye smiles, glancing shyly between BJ and Peg as the cab carries them through the streets, the building climbing towards the heavens around them.
And BJ thinks, if only to himself, that he doesn’t care who leads – him, Hawk, Peg – because wherever these two are, he’ll gladly follow.