#max klinger x oc

[shmaptainwrites]

[CH. 6] New Doctor on the Block

Chapter 6: Enemy Fire I

Pairings: Hawkeye Pierce x fem!Reader

Characters: Hawkeye Pierce, Max Klinger, Mr. Park (OC), Sherman Potter, Father Mulcahy

Summary: Reader, Hawkeye, Klinger, and Mr. Park are sent to the front to operate on soldiers that can't be brought to the 4077th

Warnings: general wartime violence/injuries, light angst

Notes: I'm just gonna be criptic here and say this won't be the last time you'll see this

Series Masterlist - NDotB Masterlist

When you heard the news to report to Colonel Potter’s office you had a feeling in your gut it wasn’t going to be for a pay raise. 

You gave Hawkeye a look as you entered along with Klinger and one of the male orderlies that helped in the OR, trying to figure out what in the world this group was called for. 

“Colonel, if you don’t mind can I ask why we’ve been called here specifically? Are we in trouble?” you asked. 

“Not particularly,” he shook his head. “One of our battalions is taking heavy fire in the front, they have a lot of wounded, but no choppers can safely get in to bring them out to us. It makes more sense to try and fix them up as best as we can where they are and send them to a unit afterwards.” 

“Are you sure we’re not in trouble?” Klinger asked. “Cause that sounds like a punishment if I know any.” 

“I’m sorry, but we drew names. Two surgeons, one enlisted man, and one nurse or orderly.” 

“When do we leave?” you asked. You hoped the fear wasn’t too evident in your voice. You hoped once you got on the scene your medical brain would go on autopilot and block out anything unpleasant. 

“This afternoon, you should all pack a small bag and whatever materials you might need.” 

The group of you nodded your heads and ran off to get your things sorted. Once all of your stuff was packed, you opened the drawer in your nightstand and pulled out a letter, something you’d drafted a while ago. 

You asked around the camp for Father Mulcahy and found him sitting outside his tent, tending to some potted plants. 

“Father, do you have a quick moment?” 

“Yes of course my child. What is it?” he asked. 

“This letter,” you handed it to him. “In case I don’t make it back can you see that it gets to my children?” 

The Father was a little taken aback, but he nodded his head. 

“I will, but I have faith that you and the rest of your company will make it back safely.” 

“Thank you, Father, I appreciate the sentiment.” 

“I will be sure to pray for your well-being while you’re away.” 

You smiled and shook the priest’s hand. “I’ll be praying right there with you.” 

You took a deep breath and swallowed your nervousness before making your way to the jeep that was going to take you out. 

You tossed your things in the back and sat in the front with Hawkeye while Klinger and Mr. Park sat in the back. 

You hated the army’s jeeps. You thought they were the most uncomfortable car in the world. You missed driving on regular paved roads, in normal cars, but you knew that was a luxury you weren’t going to have for a while. 

You tried not to talk, afraid it would give away how nervous you were. Instead, you took out the most recent photo your father had sent of Grant and Julia, smiling at how much they had grown since you last saw them. Apparently, Julia had asked your dad to teach her how to read and in exchange, she agreed to learn to play poker. You’d probably have some pretty hefty competition between the two of them when you got back. 

You tried your best to keep it in your mind. When not if. 

Around thirty minutes later you arrived at the camp and the Colonel wasn’t exaggerating when he briefed you on the number of wounded and the amount of fire they were facing from the North Koreans. 

“I’ll do triage,” you told Hawkeye. “You get started on the worst ones and I’ll join you once we’ve determined some level of priority.” 

You had to yell to be heard over the constant sound of shells going off, by the end of this your throat would be raw. 

You agreed that was the best first course of action. Klinger and Mr. Park set up some sort of makeshift OR for you both, giving penicillin when needed and cleaning everything with as much ether as they had. 

Before you knew it you were elbow deep in a soldier digging as much shrapnel out of him as you could. 

You could hear the faint whistle of some sort of bomb or missile and your eyes went wide. 

“Cover the patients!” you yelled and it was a good call as dust and rubble fell from above. Whenever that happened you did your best to irrigate the open wounds, but it felt like it was almost useless. 

Considering there were just the two of you surgeons it took you a while to attend to all the patients and by the time you did it was dark outside, but the shelling seemed nonstop. 

You were walking with Hawkeye, trying to check in on all of the patients as best as you could, identifying symptoms if there were any when another bomb went off causing whatever was left over of the structure above you to crumble down. 

“Look out!” Hawkeye grabbed you and pulled you out of the line of the debris, thankful it wasn’t on top of one of the wounded. You shrieked when you saw the cement fall in front of you, gripping tightly onto your fellow surgeon. 

It took you a moment to recover from your shock, but when you did you blinked a few times and looked over at Hawkeye. 

“You saved my life,” you whispered. 

“It’s in the job description, don’t mention it,” he shrugged, trying to lighten the mood, but all you could do was hug him, thankful he saved your babies from losing another parent. 

You tried to compose yourself, but you were a bit shaken for the rest of the evening. You couldn’t even rest as you sat and ate dinner out of a can, your hands carrying a tremor with them. 

While Klinger and Mr. Park went to sleep, you stared up at the blank sky, wondering where all the stars had gone.

“It’s been a long day,” Hawkeye said quietly from behind you. “You should get some rest.” 

You were silent for a moment before speaking, “This is where my husband died,”  your voice was reflective. “On the front I mean.”  

Hawkeye was quiet, he listened to you carefully. 

“I knew it was bad from his letters, but this…” 

“I know it’s not much of a consolation, but I’m sure there are a few wives who will be very happy with the work you’ve done here,” he reminded you. “Isn’t that why you came?” 

You nodded your head. 

“But what about my kids,” you asked. “Was it selfish of me to come out here? To risk orphaning them?” 

“I-” he shut his mouth. “I don’t know. I’m not sure I could ever know. I haven’t been a husband, or a father, and definitely won’t be a mother.” 

You chuckled at that comment. 

“Have I ever shown you a picture of them?” you asked and Hawkeye shook his head. You moved back to sit next to him and pulled out the picture from your pocket. 

“My dad tells me Julia doesn’t go anywhere without the doll you bought her,” you told him. 

“You said it was from me?” he asked and you nodded. 

“Yes, and they’re already very determined to have you visit us once we’re all back home,” you chuckled. “I miss them so much, Ben.” 

“I can only imagine,” he gave you a small smile. “Now come on, you’ve worked hard today. Let’s get some rest so we can go home tomorrow.” 

You finally agreed and were about to grab a blanket and lay down against your backpack when you saw Hawkeye motion for you to come closer. 

“I can grab my own blanket,” you remarked. 

“I know, but it’s not just for you.” 

You understood what he meant and laid with a part of your back against his chest, the side of his face pressed gently against the top of your head and his hands coming to steady your shaky ones. 

“Ben?” you whispered. 

“Mhmm?” His voice sounded groggy and quiet. 

“I-” you squeezed your eyes shut and decided against saying anything. “Goodnight.” 

“Goodnight,” he mumbled against your hair, a thumb rubbing against the back of your hand. 

You took a deep breath and closed your eyes, hoping you’d at least be safe for the night. 

Tags: @montyfandomlove

[eddysocs]

OC Wedding Board: Cynthia Swanson x Max Klinger

Send 💒+ an OC for a wedding board!

Forever Tag: @arrthurpendragon, @baubeautyandthegeek, @atjsgf, @kmc1989, @curious-kittens-ocs, @fanficanatic-tw, @kissykissymouth

Cynthia Swanson: @themercuryqueen

[shenanigans-and-imagines]

O’Pierce question. If there was a camp betting pool for will they/won’t they, before they got together, who’s the bookie?

Klinger

You look me in the eye and tell me he would pass up an opportunity to make some extra cash while also being knee deep in drama. The man would be living for it.

[incorrectbandofbrothersquotes]

You’re Still You - Chapter 1

Trapper John McIntyre x Hana Chigusa

Summary:  A nurse with a complicated past is plucked from her peaceful life by the draft and dropped into the 4077th. After everything life has put her through already, how will she adjust to this new, shocking setting? Especially with the kinds of characters in this M*A*S*H unit?

Tag List: None so far, let me know if you’d like to be added!

Word Count: 2.3k

A/N: So, I’ve decided to post my M*A*S*H fic on here. It’s with my OC, Hana Chigusa, and I hope you’ll enjoy reading her as much as I’m enjoying writing her! Dear Heart (Remastered) is still in the works, though, no worries there! 

Warning(s): None :)

Read on AO3

Chapter 1 here we go!!!

Kimpo Airport was dry. The thin air in this part of Korea brought back memories that Hana would rather forget. Which explained her being at the bar now, a mouthful of warm vodka burning her throat, because even the chatter of the other personnel around her and the rumble of vehicles outside couldn’t drown out the reminders the heat and dust brought to the forefront of her brain. 

She took another sip of her drink. Unfortunately, it wasn’t easing her bitterness either. Fresh out of nursing school, she had expected to get orders to serve in a hospital in Seoul or Tokyo. Somehow, she ended up being assigned to a MASH unit just miles from the front. They were throwing her right to the wolves.

War didn’t necessarily frighten her. But the Army certainly did. As the bar disappeared behind her eyelids, she vividly recalled her mother’s face when the draft notice came through. The tearful, horrified look. The disappointment in her voice when Hana said she would go.

“How can you join these people?” her mother questioned. “After everything they did to us?”

“Mama, you know I can’t refuse,” Hana returned. “You saw what happened to Shinji.”

“You think I’d forget that?” her mother challenged. “My own son! And now they want to take you too!”

“Even if they let me live, I’d be sent to prison,” Hana shot back, choking on the lump in her throat. “I cannot be locked up again, Mama! I won’t!”

Her mother’s lip trembled and she thrust the summons into Hana’s hand. 

“You disgrace yourself serving them,” she spat. 

Hana tried to blink away the tears, but they fell anyway. “Mama…”

Her mother turned her back on her, and that was the last they saw of each other.

“Lieutenant - uh - Cheeg - uh - nurse - um -” 

A stammering corporal pulled Hana out of her thoughts. She opened her eyes and turned to the side, certain he was looking for her, judging by his frantic glances around and the struggle to pronounce the last name. That usually meant her.

“Chigusa?” she called irritably.

His eyes found hers before looking at the paper and then back at her face. He nodded.

“Yes, ma’am,” he said. 

She took pity on him. He was just a kid, after all. Barely five feet tall with a knit cap topping off his baby face. His round glasses added to his wide-eyed, innocent look.

“That’s me,” she said, sliding out of her chair to stand on her feet. “Nurse Hana Chigusa.”

“But your paper says -”

“Hana’s fine.”

She hardly ever went by Hanako anymore. Hana - which she pronounced like the western name “Hannah” - allowed her to blend in with people outside her own community. That was another fight she had with her mother, more than once, but she couldn’t let herself go there now.

“And what’s your name, corporal?” she asked. 

“Radar O’Reilly, ma’am,” he replied, saluting her first with his left hand before quickly correcting it to the right, only to drop the paperwork he carried. 

She giggled, picking it up for him. 

“At ease, Radar,” she said gently. “And for future reference, remain at ease around me. I’m not regular Army.”

“Oh, good,” he sighed, relaxing. 

She handed him the paperwork and he took it gratefully.

“Are you ready to go, ma’am?” he asked.

“Sure,” she said. “I’ll just pay my tab.”

She dropped what was probably too much money on the counter beside her empty glass, but she didn’t care. She was ready to get where she was going. Then, she followed Radar outside where a jeep was waiting. In the passenger seat sat a man wearing a bright orange day dress and a wide brimmed straw hat, secured by pink ribbon around his chin. He had white gloves and white pleather shoes, which also matched his belt. The handbag in his lap was black satin with a pearl button clasp.

Hana blinked, not wanting to stare since it was rude, but she couldn’t take her eyes off of him. He smiled kindly at her and wiggled his fingers. 

“Hi there,” he said. “Max Klinger. Nice to meet you.”

“Hana,” she replied, still stunned, her eyes roving over him to make sure she was seeing him right. She stopped at his legs. “What no stockings? And with unshaved legs?”

He chuckled. “It’s my face or my legs, sweetheart, and I can’t cover my face.”

She smirked as he held out a hand. He helped her up into the jeep while Radar put her bags in beside her. Then he climbed behind the wheel. 

“Say, Radar, are you old enough to drive?” she teased, and Klinger laughed. 

“Oh, yeah,” Radar replied earnestly. “My uncle taught me when I was seven. I’m nineteen now, so I’ve had lots of practice.”

She looked at Klinger for confirmation, but he only shrugged. Then, Radar turned the engine and stepped on the gas, and they were off into the Korean countryside. 

The further they got from the airport, the more stranded Hana felt. She was stuck here for an undetermined amount of time. To once again be bossed around by the Army. Only this time, she was a part of it. 

“So, lieutenant…” Klinger trailed off, realizing she hadn’t told him her last name.

“Spare me the Army stuff, call me Hana,” she replied.

He smiled at that. “So, Hana, where are you from?”

“Newport Beach,” she told him. “It’s about forty minutes south of Los Angeles.”

“Sounds glamorous,” he returned. “I’m from Toledo, myself.”

“Is that where you learned how to dress?” she asked. 

“I never dressed like this back home,” he admitted. “I just need the Army to think I’m crazy enough to get me back there.”

She chuckled. “I see. So, how far is the hospital?”

“Not far at all,” he said. “We’ll be there before you know it!”

Klinger wasn’t lying. Barely an hour had gone by before they were rolling up to the cluster of buildings that made up the hospital and camp. Once again, Hana remembered Heart Mountain, but pushed it down. She was not a prisoner here. Well, not technically. If there was anything to appreciate, it was the lack of barbed wire.

They were met at the jeep by a blonde woman whose sternness betrayed her beauty. Hana climbed out of the jeep - with help from Radar - and then the woman stuck out her hand. 

“Lieutenant Chigusa, right?” she asked.

Hana nodded, shaking her hand. “That’s right. Hana is fine, though.”

“Not in the Army it’s not,” the woman returned. “I’m Major Houlihan, head nurse here at the 4077th.”

Hana resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Though she supposed it was about time she ran into someone like this. Houlihan ordered Radar and Klinger to drop off Hana’s bags at the nurses’ tent, so they could begin a tour of the facilities. Hana nodded to the corporals to give her permission, before following the major. 

“I’ll take you to your quarters last so you can rest once you get there,” she said. “We’ll start with the mess tent.”

The mess tent was typical. The food even more so. Nasty Army stuff any regular person would turn their nose up at. But Hana had eaten worse. Major Houlihan next took her to the hospital and walked her through pre-op, the scrub room, the OR, and post-op, where there were just two patients at the moment.

“Don’t get too comfortable,” Major Houlihan warned. “We can have incoming casualties any minute, and you’ll need to be prepared.”

“I understand, Major,” Hana replied. 

From the hospital, they moved on to the CO’s office, where Hana said hello again to Radar before meeting Lieutenant Colonel Henry Blake. He was a friendly guy, who was definitely not regular Army. He wore a fishing vest with a matching hat loaded with hooks. And he was reclined in his chair, a glass of whiskey in his hand. He didn’t even care that Hana didn’t salute him, and he shook her hand warmly. She liked him right away.

They went to the officer’s club next, which was evidently misnamed. A couple enlisted men were coming out just as Houlihan and Hana were going in. Hana couldn’t help but notice the major’s disapproving glare, though the enlisted guys ignored it. The two women had barely crossed the threshold when two men descended upon them. Both were tall, one had a head of thick, dark hair and blue eyes, while the other had curly, sandy hair and hazel eyes. Both had smiles that indicated mischief.

“Hello, there,” said the dark haired one. “I’m Hawkeye. You must be new here.”

“Trapper,” the other said. “Can we get your name, sweetheart? Buy you a drink to welcome you to Korea?”

Hana glanced between them in disbelief. Did they really think themselves impressive in their mismatched Hawaiian shirts and goofy grins?

“Yes, I am new here,” Hana replied coolly. “And I’m not interested.”

“Not Interested, that’s unique,” said Hawkeye. “What is that, Italian?”

Major Houlihan rolled her eyes. “Ignore these two, Lieutenant. They’re two of our surgeons, Captain Pierce and Captain McIntyre. Unfortunately, they’re very talented or they’d be out of the Army for their disgraceful behavior.”

“I’m sure the patients - despite their gratitude at being alive - are as disgusted as you, Major,” Hana replied, voice dripping with bitterness and sarcasm. 

Hawkeye and Trapper snickered.

Houlihan rankled at that. “Oh, don’t tell me you’re one of them!”

“I have no love for the Army, Major, make no mistake,” Hana said seriously. “I’m here because the alternative was prison. Now, are we done with this tour?”

“I’d say so,” Houlihan said, tossing her hair over her shoulder and storming out. 

Hana breathed a sigh of relief and, ignoring the giggling surgeons, made a beeline for the bar, hoping to leave Pierce and McIntyre behind her as well. But she wasn’t that lucky. The pair followed her and took seats on either side of her. She bit back a groan. Being “fresh meat” wasn’t her style. And she didn’t care for the attention of men. At least, not here.

“Sure we can’t get you that drink, Not Interested?” Hawkeye pressed. “It’s on the Army.”

She smirked and pointedly ignored him. She could see this guy thrived on attention - good or bad - so giving it to him was the last thing she would do. She looked at the bartender.

“Vodka soda, please,” she said. 

He got right to work. 

Trapper tapped her on the shoulder and she spared him a glance.

“Don’t you want to make friends here?” he asked. “Could be a long war.”

“Your eyes have been on my chest since I walked in, forgive me if I don’t believe friendship is what’s on your mind,” she returned. 

The bartender placed her drink in front of her. In Korean, she thanked him and asked his name. He appeared surprised to be addressed by someone fluent, and happily told her his name was Kwang. She offered a slight bow of her head, he bowed back, and then, beaming, starting polishing glasses.

“You speak the local?” Trapper questioned. “Where’d you learn that?”

“I learned as a child, we had Korean neighbors,” she said. 

“That’ll be helpful,” Hawkeye said. “We end up with a lot of Korean casualties here.”

She blinked. “Really?”

He nodded solemnly. It was the first honest expression she’d seen from him. 

“A lot of locals end up in the wrong place at the wrong time,” he said.

“So do a lot of North Koreans,” Trapper added.

Hana’s eyes widened as she looked at him. “You mean, you treat the enemy?”

He nodded. “Of course. We’re doctors.”

Hana almost smiled. If it weren’t such a gruesome subject, she would have. She looked between these two men whose first impression had so turned her off. What a front they put up. She wondered why they hid their decency. The fact remained that it existed, and she wanted to acknowledge it.

“Hana Chigusa,” she said. 

“What?” Trapper asked.

“My name,” she said. “It’s Hana Chigusa.”

He grinned. “Nice to meet you.”

“So, Chigusa,” Hawkeye said. “That’s definitely not Italian.”

She chuckled. “I’m half Japanese.”

They remained at the bar a while, and they got to know her better. She told them about growing up in Newport Beach and her mother’s tea shop there. She told them she went to nursing school at Columbia in New York City, just to experience something new. She told them she was drafted, like them, and came reluctantly to Korea. 

“So, is the surgery really intense here?” she wondered. 

She was pretty nervous. She only had infrequent practical experience post-nursing school. Though, she had graduated at the top of her class.

Hawkeye shrugged. “It’s meatball surgery mostly.”

“Pretty basic extraction of junk,” Trapper said. “Things get more complicated if a limb’s gotta be removed or something, but we just do whatever we can to keep them alive.”

Hana nodded. It sounded about as brutal as she expected. She hoped she’d be able to endure what she would witness. She wondered if she would end up more like Trapper and Hawkeye, with a façade to cover up the ugliness of it all. Then again, she realized she already had one up. What was one more?

Suddenly, a voice came over the loudspeaker. 

“Attention!” it called. “Attention all personnel! Incoming wounded! All personnel report to the OR!”

Hana, Hawkeye, and Trapper all got to their feet. She swallowed. This was the moment to prove herself to her new co-workers. She pushed the nerves away. 

“Scared?” Trapper asked. 

She looked him in the eye with every ounce of confidence she had. 

“Nothing scares me anymore,” she told him.

Her answer perplexed him, but he didn’t have time to analyze it. All three of them jogged out of the bar and across the camp to the hospital. 

[eddysocs]

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

[shenanigans-and-imagines]

How does the rest of the 4077 feel/react about Elizabeth and Hawkeye being together?? Even Trapper and Henry after they leave what would their reactions be??

I love this! Let’s do it!

In no particular order:

B.J. Hunnicutt

Practically doing hand stands.  He’s been wanting them to get together every since he realized they weren’t. The moment Hawkeye and Liz break the news, he just tells Hawkeye he’s going to be his best man.

Margaret Houlihan

Accepts it well enough because for some unknown reason Hawkeye, of all men, makes Liz happy.  But, he’s on thin fucking ice.  One slip, and she’ll strangle him in his sleep.

Charles Winchester

Says he doesn’t care, but he’s mostly just sore he lost the bet.  He thought it’d take them until the end of the war.  Just so long as they keep the saccharin sentiment behind closed doors, it doesn’t effect him one way or another.

Maxwell Klinger

Happy as a clam.  He didn’t make as much money on the pool, (he thought they’d get together sooner), but being the camp bookie, he still takes a percentage.

Father Mulcahy

Already has their wedding vows saved in his note book. Didn’t make much money on the pool, but is still happy for them; love is a wonderful thing and to find it in a place of such destruction is nothing short of a miracle.

Colonel Potter

Is the one who won the camp pool. He’s certainly happy for them and wishes them the best.  He also will sit Hawkeye down and tell him in no uncertain terms that O’Neil is a mighty fine young lady and that if Hawkeye screws the pooch on this one, he’s about the dumbest man he’s ever known.

Radar O’Reilly

Happy, but feels a little weird about it.  It’s like seeing your big brother, who you idealize get together with your baby sitter.  Sure, it makes sense, but it also feels a little awkward.  He’s also practically the only one in camp who gives Liz a talking to about Hawkeye.  He saw how devastated Hawkeye was when she first rejected him and knows that’s she’s just as capable of hurting Hawkeye as he is of hurting her.  He might not say it in the most articulate way, but he gets his point across. 

Bonus:

Trapper McIntyre

Is a little taken aback.  Sure he likes Liz, a little wound tight for his taste, but nothing to complain about.  It more just surprises him that Hawkeye would even want to settle down with just one girl. He knew Hawkeye started to have a little crush on her, but he didn’t think it would get that far.  He’s happy for him, but it would take him a little longer to adjust.  If he were still around, he would also give Liz the, “you break my buddy’s heart, there will be consequences, I haven’t thought of them yet, but it will happen”.

Henry Blake

Not nearly as surprised as Trapper, but it does take him a minute to realize this is actually happening. He’d call Hawkeye into his office to basically ask his intentions towards Liz. He does like her, but mostly he doesn’t want Hawkeye doing something stupid causing one of them to transfer if things get too awkward. They’re both some of the best surgeons he’s know and doesn’t want to lose either of them. But once he gets the message that they’re both 100% serious, he lets it go and wishes them luck.