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Under the camp lights in the wee hours of the morning, Major Winchester walked around the sleepy MASH unit, stretching his legs after a long night of post-op duty and catching up on paperwork. It had been, in fact, a long few days. Both BJ and Hawkeye were enjoying leave in Seoul, meaning Charles had been filling in. As he passed the officers club - typically empty by now - he noticed the door ajar and heard a dull, faintly rhythmic noise coming from inside. He stood there a few moments, trying to clear the fog from his brain long enough to parse what it might be. The odd pattering sound faltered and Nurse Kellye’s voice came clear from inside.
“Whoever that is, you might as well come in and say hello instead of standing by the door like some creep.”
Effectively jolted from his daze and a bit embarrassed, Charles poked his head in.
“Apologies, I didn’t mean to, ah, ‘creep.’”
”Oh, hi Major. Do you know anything about tap dancing?”
Kellye was standing alone in the middle of a clear section of floor; chairs and tables crowded the sides of the room. A quick glance around also showed Igor on a barstool, slumped with his head on his arms, apparently asleep. Charles stepped all the way inside.
”No, not as such. Why do you ask?”
”I’m practicing, see?” She demonstrated a half-hearted time step, although she obviously wasn’t wearing tap shoes. That would explain the noise. “There’s not enough room in our tent, so I come in here sometimes after hours. I could really use some feedback though. This one’s no help,” she jerked a thumb at Igor.
”Hey, I kept it open for ya,” he mumbled sluggishly into his elbow, still unmoving.
”I see,” said Charles. “Well, I much prefer the measured dignity of a foxtrot, but of course Winchesters are famed for their grace in all terpsichorean endea-“
”Oh, forget it, I’m tired anyway,” she waved a hand to cut him off and headed behind the bar. Charles, needing a drink and figuring he could do worse for company, settled on a stool.
”Anything decent back there?” he asked. Igor snorted and dragged himself almost upright.
”By your eminent standards, Major,” he drawled, “there’s nothing decent this side of Tokyo.” He turned to Kellye.
“Get out the top shelf stuff for our top shelf -” he patted Charles’ head “- friend here.”
Charles already regretted sitting down. He glared and slapped Igor’s hand away. “And what exactly would that be?”
Kellye held up a bottle of the same cheap whiskey they always had in here. “Sorry, Major. This will have to do, unless you care to indulge a little closer to home.” Charles shuddered at the thought of the so-called gin stewing in his tent.
”I’m not quite that desperate this evening, Lieutenant. Pour away, if you’d be so kind.”
A few drinks later, they were both pleasantly tipsy and Igor was once again flirting with unconsciousness.
“Looking forward to the captains coming back tomorrow?” Kellye asked. Charles snorted.
”Hardly.”
”Aren’t you tired from picking up all that extra work?”
”Well yes, but at least I can trust that it’s getting done correctly.”
Kellye rolled her eyes. “They are good doctors, you know.”
”Oh sure, sure, but they’re more trouble than they’re worth,” he slurred. “You know what happens when either of them gets to go off for a bit? He comes back all rested up, all full of renewed zeal for…” he searched for the word.
”Fun?” Kellye supplied.
”Foolishness,” he corrected. “Insipid wi- wisecracking and…and the unending noise and the pranks.” He poured himself another two fingers. “It’s more than civilized people like you and me should put up with.”
Kellye swirled her drink in her glass contemplatively.
“They certainly can be obnoxious.” Her eyes narrowed. “’specially Hawkeye.”
Charles mm-ed in agreement. “Mind you I’ve given them a taste of their own m-medicine a time or two, mind you.”
Kellye giggled at his repetition, though Charles didn’t know what was so funny. She perked up a little. “Why don’t we set up a little something for them for when they get back? Make the first move.”
”No time,” Charles replied. “They’ll probably pull in in in just a few hours.”
”I’ve got an idea. Something we used to do at summer camp…come on, let’s take Igor home and then I’ll show you.”
Between the two of them it took a good ten minutes to drag Igor to his tent. Once they’d [literally] dropped him off, Kellye grabbed a now-swaying Charles’ wrist and pulled him along to Klinger’s tent. She knocked on the door several times, whisper-shouting “KLINGER, Klinger wake UP.” Finally, a groggy vision in pink came to the door. From the depths of his fluffy bathrobe they heard, “Who goes there? I mean whadya want?”
”A seam ripper,” Kellye demanded.
”My what?”
”Your seam ripper,” she repeated. “For a prank. I’ll bring it back, I promise.”
Klinger rubbed his eyes and registered Charles for the first time, who was standing there looking for all the world like he might keel over any moment. Too sleepy to bother wondering why this pair out of the whole camp was at his door before dawn demanding sewing implements, Klinger rummaged for a moment and handed the little tool to Kellye.
”Now this is my good one, she’s almost as sharp as you are. I’d better see her back in my kit tomorrow, I got a hem I gotta take down.”
”You’re the best,” Kellye said, and still gripping Charles by the wrist, led him to the Swamp.
“What on earth are you going to do with that little…whatsit?” he asked as they entered and turned on a lamp.
”Just watch,” she grinned. She went to Hawkeye’s cot, gingerly moved the sparse bedding to the floor and flipped the whole cot over. Charles leaned down and squinted to try and see what she was doing. A few moments later he was giggling uncontrollably.
”You know they, hoo, Hawkeye in particular, just throws himself on that thing-”
”Exactly,” she said gleefully. She replaced Hawkeye’s cot to its usual position and moved on to BJs. When she was done they both looked perfectly normal, but she’d undone most of the stitching that held the canvas onto the frame. The few key stitches she’d left in were enough to hold it all together for appearances, but definitely wouldn't take the weight of a grown man dropping his whole weight into it. Charles took her hand and shook it gleefully. “You, my good woman, are a genius. We must work together more often.”
”Tell me something I don’t know,” she teased, and followed with a deep yawn. “I’m going to bed.”
”You’re not sticking around for the show?”
”Something tells me I’ll hear all about it.”
And indeed, as the first rays of light showed over the hill and Kellye was drifting in and out of sleep, the anticipated sound of a jeep pulling into camp woke her. 30 seconds later the deafening cacophony of Hawkeye’s yelping, BJ’s hollering, and Charles’ guffawing woke everyone else.