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eddysocs · 2 years

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Home Sweet Toledo (Max Klinger x OC)

Summary: Klinger is feeling particularly homesick, and Cynthia comes up with an idea that may be just the remedy he needs.

Word Count: 1,334

Warnings: None

Homesick was a word anyone would use to describe Klinger. It seemed to be his defining personality trait at times, and usually he dealt with it well, one crazy scheme after the next. But sometimes it really showed in a far more serious and somber manner. And Cynthia understood it. Hell, she felt that way herself every now and again. Who wouldn’t in a war torn country like Korea? But for as long as she’d been with the 4077th, she’d never seen him quite like this.

He was quiet, keeping to himself, and didn’t do much more than kick rocks around with the toe of his high heels unless something was asked of him, and even then his task wasn’t done with its usual muster. Cynthia couldn’t see him go on like that any longer. Maybe he’d given up trying to go home on a Section 8, but that didn’t mean a bit of home couldn’t come here to him.

Naturally, as her plan started to form, she saw no better option than to recruit Hawkeye and Trapper to help make it happen. "So, it’s like this," Cynthia began, barging into the Swamp.

"Oh no, Bugs, what’s Daffy gonna get us into this time," Trapper cracked, making Hawkeye laugh.

"Very funny," Cynthia deadpanned, clearly not amused. "I'm trying to do something nice, and if anyone can help me convince everyone to buck up and join, it’s the two of you."

Seeing the serious look on her face, Hawkeye replied, "Alright, what’s the plan?"

Cynthia outlined her idea to the two of them, telling them how she wanted to make a sort of mock Mud Hens game for Klinger to make him feel like he’s back in Toledo.

"Sounds fun," Trapper said when Cynthia finished explaining.

"A lot better than sitting here knitting," Hawkeye agreed.

"Then you’re in? I can count on you?"

"Can’t say we can whip a professional baseball team into shape overnight, but yeah, we'll get you your players. Just as long as you promise us that you get some of the nurses to be our cheerleaders," Hawkeye bargained.

"Cheerleaders? In baseball," Cynthia questioned.

"It'll boost morale," Trapper reasoned, with an impish grin on his face.

"Fine. Cheerleaders. Got it. Shouldn’t be too hard."

So Cynthia began her recruitment for cheerleaders, stopping off first at the nurses tent. There was a good few of them that were on board as soon as she’d pitched the idea. The ones who weren’t so keen agreed to be spectators, so all in all, she fared pretty well with her end of the deal. It’d be a bonus if she could get Margaret as well.

To her utter shock, her visit to Margaret's tent went surprisingly well. Cynthia figured a game of baseball was hardly military enough for her to approve of, but she got on board with the idea rather quickly. "I haven’t worn a skirt in what feels like ages. Sure, I’ll be a cheerleader." With such a satisfactory reply, Cynthia had merely thanked her and went on her way.

The following morning Cynthia checked in with Hawkeye and Trapper. "Got me my teams yet?"

"Still working on it. A few people are being rather stubborn about playing their role." Hawkeye shot a sidelong glance over to Frank, making sure that he knew he was talking about him. Frank only harrumphed.

"We got a lot of spectators though," supplied Trapper. "And Radar offered to be the announcer. We're participating, of course, and we got Henry and a few other guys to fill the field. We just need a catcher."

"Frank, you mean," Cynthia surmised.

"That’s what we were hoping," Trapper confirmed.

"I think I can persuade him." Cynthia gave a knowing wink, having just the ace up her sleeve to get Major Burns in on the game, whether he wanted to or not. And with that it was back to Margaret.

"Game's set for Friday afternoon, bearing in mind we don’t get a surge of casualties. We’ve got enough cheerleaders and almost two whole teams. We just need one catcher. Any chance you can convince Major Burns?"

"Like you even have to ask. I’ll have him suited up and on the field before you can say ‘home run'."

"Thank you, Major."

Finally, with everything in order, Friday afternoon had arrived. Cynthia made sure everyone was in position, save for Colonel Blake, who was set on his task of keeping Klinger busy and unaware of the surprise that awaited him. It was Radar's announcement to kick off the game that was Henry's cue to take Klinger back outside.

"What’s all this, sir," he asked, taking in the makeshift baseball diamond drawn in the dirt.

"It’s a little taste of home. A certain nurse noticed how much you were missing old Ohio and set this whole thing up just for you."

"You mean…Cynthia did all this?"

"She had a little help, but yeah. All her idea. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to get on the field. And I think there’s a front row seat with your name on it."

Klinger went over and grabbed the empty chair in the front as he took in the spectacle of the game. There were the 'Indianapolis Indians', which were just white shirts with the lettering written on with black markers. And then his team, the Toledo Mud Hens. Only one real jersey was on the field. Cynthia, who stood at the pitcher's mound, was wearing it, and had probably taken it from his tent earlier. The rest of the team was in gray, again with the team name handwritten, in red this time. Messy as it was, he had to admire the effort.

As the game played on, Klinger found himself as caught up in the action as if he were at a real Mud Hens game. It was far from professional, as the strength of Cynthia's pitches sometimes knocked Frank over or made him scream in fear as he attempted to play his role of catcher. But the rest of the participants proved to be adequate at the game.

Cynthia found herself thankful that they’d made it a whole nine innings without interruption from choppers. She really couldn’t have asked for anything better when she’d envisioned her plan coming together. And one last swing was going to determine if the 'Mud Hens' won or not. Cynthia sent the pitch flying towards Frank, counting on Hawkeye striking out. God love him, but he wasn’t the most athletic. Though that worked out in her favor as the pitch sailed into Frank's glove.

Cynthia cheered, as did the rest of her makeshift team as they claimed the win. After a moment of celebration, Cynthia locked eyes with Klinger and waved him over. As the team disbanded after a group hug, Cynthia and Klinger were left alone in the middle of the improvised baseball diamond. "You pulled all of this together for me?"

"Of course I did," Cynthia replied, as if it were obvious that she’d do such a thing, and Klinger supposed that it actually was. "I know it’s not really Toledo, or the Mud Hens, but I hope it brought you a little taste of home."

"Oh, it did, but uh, I’m not sure I've ever wanted to kiss a Mud Hens player before?"

"First time for everything," Cynthia teased, before enveloping Klinger in her arms, dipping him low and kissing him. The rest of the 4077th that had stuck around whooped and hollered, egging them on. Klinger had to hold onto his hat to keep it from falling off his head. Cynthia kept him balanced by grabbing onto his thigh before she eventually let him up on his own two feet again.

"Next time you’re feeling homesick, just talk to me, okay? I don’t think I can get everyone to do this again."

Klinger grinned and Cynthia smiled back at him, happy to see the cheerful look return to his face. "You got yourself a deal."

Cynthia Swanson: @borg-queer, @sicktember

#oc: cynthia swanson #fc: cheryl ladd #fd: m*a*s*h #cynthia x max #max klinger #max klinger x oc #m*a*s*h #mash #mash 4077 #sicktember 2022

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