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Summary
“You know, you don’t have to pick me up and throw me around to make me crazy about you,” Hawkeye said, the pitch of his voice dropping to his non-glib honesty register: twenty years on, BJ had Hawkeye’s tones catalogued precisely.
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In 1976, BJ has a crisis of confidence. Hawkeye takes it upon himself to make him feel better. Of course, nothing ever goes precisely to plan.