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You'd been at the 4077th for three months now, and for three months, you'd been making your interest in Charles Emerson Winchester III abundantly clear.
"Morning, Major," you said brightly, catching him on his way to the mess tent. "You know, that uniform really brings out your eyes."
Charles barely glanced at you, adjusting his cap with practiced precision. "Yes, well, the Army does occasionally get something right, even if by accident." He continued walking.
You fell into step beside him. "I was thinking, maybe we could have dinner together sometime? I make a mean cup of coffee, and I'm told I'm excellent company."
"I'm sure you are," he replied, his tone suggesting he was sure of no such thing. "However, I have a rather full schedule."
"Tomorrow then?"
"Also full."
"Next week?"
"Booked solid, I'm afraid."
At first, it had been fun. Charles Winchester was handsome, brilliant, and completely immune to your charms - which only made him more intriguing. You'd never met a man you couldn't at least get to smile, and his indifference felt like a challenge you couldn't resist.
But three months of constant rejection was starting to wear on you.
It was a quiet evening in the mess tent. You'd tried again that morning, telling Charles you thought he had the most wonderful hands you'd ever seen on a surgeon - strong, capable, elegant. He'd looked at you like you'd sprouted a second head and walked away mid-sentence.
You were pushing your mystery meat around your tray when Klinger sat down across from you.
"Rough day?" he asked, his usual cheerful expression tempered with genuine concern.
"Is it that obvious?"
"Well, you've been stabbing that Salisbury steak like it personally offended you." He grinned. "Want to talk about it?"
You sighed, setting down your fork. "Do you think there's something wrong with me, Klinger?"
His eyebrows shot up. "Wrong with you? Are you kidding? You're smart, you're funny, you're beautiful - what could possibly be wrong with you?"
"Then why..." you trailed off, glancing across the tent where Charles sat alone, reading a book while he ate. "Why won't he even give me a chance? Not even one date. Not even coffee. I know I've been forward, maybe too forward, but I've made it clear I'm interested. At this point, I'd settle for him just acknowledging that I exist as an actual person."
Klinger followed your gaze and understanding dawned on his face. "Oh. Winchester."
"I just don't understand. At first, I thought it was fun, you know? A challenge. But now I'm starting to wonder if maybe I'm just... not good enough for him. Not refined enough, not educated enough, not from the right family..."
"Hey, stop that right now," Klinger said firmly, reaching across to still your hands. "There is nothing wrong with you. You hear me? Nothing."
You managed a weak smile. "You're sweet, Klinger."
"I'm serious." His dark eyes were earnest, warm in a way that made your chest ache a little. "You want to know what I think? I think Winchester is an idiot."
That surprised a laugh out of you. "An idiot? He's probably the smartest person in this camp."
"Book smart, sure. But people smart?" Klinger shook his head. "The man wouldn't recognize genuine affection if it hit him over the head with his own polo mallet. He probably thinks you're pulling some kind of prank on him."
You blinked. "A prank?"
"Think about it from his perspective. He's used to people here making fun of him - Hawkeye and BJ give him grief constantly. A beautiful woman suddenly throwing herself at him? He probably thinks it's a setup, that everyone's going to jump out and laugh at him if he says yes."
You'd never considered that. Charles always seemed so confident, so self-assured. But there was a certain defensiveness to him too, wasn't there? The way he kept everyone at arm's length, the way he sometimes seemed to be waiting for the other shoe to drop.
"I never thought about it that way," you said quietly.
"Of course you didn't. Because you're genuine." Klinger squeezed your hands gently before letting go. "Look, you want my advice? Stop wasting your time on someone who can't see what's right in front of him. You deserve someone who pays attention to you, who appreciates you, who doesn't make you question yourself."
"Someone like you?" you asked, and you were surprised to realize you weren't entirely joking.
Klinger's smile turned a bit bashful, a hint of color touching his cheeks. "Well, I wasn't going to say it, but since you brought it up..." He leaned forward, his expression turning sincere. "I've always thought you were something special. From the day you got here. And if Winchester is too blind or too scared to see that, that's his loss."
You looked at Klinger - really looked at him. The warmth in his eyes, the genuine smile, the way he'd sought you out because he'd noticed you were upset. How many times had he done that over the past three months? How many conversations had you had, how many times had he made you laugh, how many times had he simply been there?
"You know what, Klinger? I think you might be onto something."
His smile widened. "Yeah?"
"Yeah." You felt lighter suddenly, like something heavy had lifted off your shoulders. "So, about that someone who pays attention to me..."
"I'm all ears. And eyes. Completely focused right here." He gestured to the space between you with a theatrical flourish that made you laugh.
"Would you want to have dinner with me sometime? Real dinner, I mean. Not this mess tent mystery meat."
"Are you asking me on a date?"
"I am."
Klinger's grin could have lit up the whole tent. "Then I accept. Enthusiastically. With no hesitation whatsoever. See how easy that was?"
You laughed, really laughed, and realized you felt more seen in this five-minute conversation than you had in three months of chasing Charles Winchester.
From across the tent, Charles glanced up from his book, his eyes narrowing slightly as he observed you laughing with Klinger, your hands almost touching across the table. Something flickered across his face - confusion, perhaps, or the faintest hint of regret. But then he returned to his book, and the moment passed.
You didn't notice. You were too busy planning your date with Klinger, with someone who'd been paying attention all along.