Chapter Text
“Sir,” Hawkeye and BJ burst into Colonel Potter's office and Hawkeye didn't wait to be greeted before speaking, “I have just got word that there will be a medical conference in Tokyo next month and, as Chief Surgeon, I think BJ and I should be the ones to go this time.”
Potter sighed and looked up, “I don't know Pierce, I hear there's a thoracic guy coming to talk and from what I hear he's got experience in a MASH unit. Winchester is our main chest guy, he should probably hear what the guy has to say.”
“But Potter, I'm a chest guy too! And-and BJ should hear this stuff! What if me and Charles are busy and another chest wound comes in? What then huh?” Hawkeye started sounding a little panicked at the prospect of being told no.
BJ touched his arm and stepped forward, “I'd really like to learn this stuff. Besides, Charles already knows it all, he's either done it himself, watched a colleague do it, or has read the paper on it before it was even out in the journals.”
“Hmm, I don't know boys, this guy is from Boston and it would do Charles some good to hear a little bit of news from home and I think Margaret might find it useful as well…” he sat back in his chair looking thoughtful.
“I'll tell you what,” Hawkeye put both hands on the desk, “we'll get you two bottles of Scotch and a new set of paints.”
“And brushes!” BJ added.
“Yeah, and we'll throw in a kimono for Mildred!” Hawkeye hit the desk to punctuate the offer.
Potter hummed thoughtfully.
“Please, Colonel.” BJ didn't have much fight in him and was losing hope, “it's Trapper.” He did his best to keep the whine out of his voice but didn't quite succeed.
“Aw hell, I'm not gonna string you along any more boys. I had Radar draw up the passes as soon as I saw the name.” Both doctors practically collapsed in relief, “But with you coming in here all gung-ho like that I wanted to see how far you would go. I'm not gonna prevent either of you from seeing your mate. Especially not when you might get something useful out of it.” He leaned so he wouldn't be yelling straight in their ears, “Radar! You got those passes ready yet?”
Radar was walking in before Potter was done with the first syllable of his name. “Right here, Sir.” He handed the passes over, “and I've already called Tokyo to make sure they know that Trapper won't need his own room since he will be staying with BJ and Hawkeye.”
“Good thinking. No need for the Army to pay for two hotel rooms when only one is going to be used.” He signed the passes and gave them back to Radar, “Put these somewhere that you'll be able to find them.”
“Yes Sir.” He turned to the filing cabinets and filed it under “M”.
“Good, ‘M’ for medical conference, right?” Potter asked.
“Uh, no Sir. ‘M’ for mates sir.’
“Well, whatever works. Dismissed.”
Hawkeye smiled at him, “you know Sherm, if my mate wasn't standing right next to me right now I would kiss you.”
“Then we can all be grateful that you have sewn all of your pants together at the hip.” Potter looked back at his paperwork. “Go make yourselves useful somewhere else.”
BJ and Hawkeye went back to the Swamp and as they stepped in Hawkeye said, “Can you believe it Beej? In three and a half weeks, we'll be in Tokyo, in a real bed! With clean sheets! And food that doesn't come from a can!”
Charles lowered his newspaper, “excuse me gentlemen, but am I right in believing that you two will be going to Tokyo for the conference?”
Hawkeye grinned, “you betcha.”
“Hmm, yes, well don't you think it more appropriate that I, a thoracic surgeon from Boston go to hear what another thoracic surgeon from Boston has to say. I mean you'll hardly understand the accent.” He gesticulated as he spoke.
“Oh, I'll translate for Beej, I did my residency in Boston.” Hawkeye flopped onto his cot and tried to pull BJ down with him but his mate easily resisted and stepped over to the still.
BJ smiled and poured himself some gin, “besides, I think you'd have a worse time understanding him. I hear he's from the wrong side of town.”
Charles folded up his newspaper, “Hmm. Yes. Well, I shall just have to have a conversation with Colonel Potter to rectify this mistake.”
BJ shook his head, “I wouldn't do that Charles. He's already made his decision. Besides, you might want to see something first.” He picked up the box that Trapper had sent with a couple of shirts recently for their regular scent trade and grabbed the pamphlet for the conference. He flipped to the page where Trapper's talk was announced and held it next to the shipping label for Charles to read.
“Why are you showing me this? I have already seen the pamphlet, and you don't need to show me that you got another package from your mate, I saw that already too.”
BJ just smiled, “you ever taken a look at the name on all our mail, Charles?”
“No, why would I?”
Hawkeye gestured to the package, “take a look, and maybe play a matching game with the words on the page.”
“Fine, I will humor this silly game of yours.”
Carefully printed, at the top of the return address, was John F. X. McIntyre, MD. In the pamphlet, in much more official font, was the same name.
Charles stood up and straightened his clothing, “Ah, I see, well I suppose you may actually get something valuable out of the trip after all.” He sat back down on his cot.
BJ gave a small bow and tossed the two items aside, “why thank you Charles. I knew you would see sense.”
“Mm, of course. You two would be unbearable if you didn't go anyway.”
“Oh you bet we would be.” Hawkeye said and smiled at BJ as he gave him a glass of gin. “It's been a year, and seven months ago he thought I was dead for a week.”
Charles looked up in surprise, “why ever would he have thought that?”
BJ sat down, “because the army told him Hawkeye had died.”
Charles looked more confused.
Hawkeye shrugged, “the paperwork machine did some of the paperwork wrong and declared me dead. And then they cut the phone and telegram lines so Eisenhower could visit.”
“Couldn't he feel you? I mean you are true mates yes? He should have been able to feel that you were alive.”
“You can convince yourself of a lot when both your mates are on the other side of the world.” BJ explained, “he convinced himself that we were too far away and what he was feeling was just denial.”
Hawkeye nodded, “yeah, but as far as I can tell there is no such thing as too far away and for a week, Beej and I felt all of his grief and pain and anger and confusion.”
Charles considered what they were telling him, “oh my, that- that is horrible, I'm sorry.”
Hawkeye lifted his glass in mock cheers, “that's war, baby.”