Letters Home From Korea: From Quijonbu to Mill Valley, Letter #4
Letter #3
TITLE: Letters Home From Korea: From Quijonbu to Mill Valley, Letter #4
FANDOM: M*A*S*H (tv series)
PAIRING: BJ/Peg (Guest starring Hawkeye)
GENRE: Het
TABLE: #11: Song Titles A
PROMPT: 08. If I Could Be Where You Are @ 12_stories
RATING: PG
WORD COUNT: 1,523
SUMMARY: It's now winter in Quijonbu. BJ still misses Peg and longs for the mundane of ordinary life. Hawkeye temporarily steals the letter to include a comment from himself.
WARNINGS: Brief references to sex.
NOTES: All my M*A*S*H fics
DISCLAIMER: This is all for fun. I own nothing.
My dear family (Peg, Erin & Waggle, too),
Thank you all for your dear letters. They mean so much to me. I’d say you have no idea how much, but I can just hear you Peg saying, “I don’t know? Honey, your letters are the only way I know you’re alive.” I suppose for all of us letters are a means of survival. Please forgive me for only writing one letter, but as you can imagine, paper is a bit of a (what’s the word for a non-edible delicacy?)
Peg, I’ll admit your list made me cry a little (I admit this only because you’re my wife). The things I miss are:
1) Peg
a. The smell of your hair
b. The taste and feel of your kiss
c. The way you look
d. Your smile
e. Your laugh
f. The way you crinkle your nose when you’re disgusted
g. The way you nuzzle my nose
h. Holding you in my arms
i. Falling asleep on the couch with you
j. Making love to you (can’t you just imagine Erin getting a hold of these letters when she’s older, grimacing over the lovey-dovey parts and freaking out about this bullet point?)
k. Having you make my morning coffee
l. Your cooking
m. Our bed
n. Our house
2) Erin
a. Being around her (I feel like one of those bum dads)
b. Having her crying waking me up in the middle of the night (Peg, when I get home, I promise I’ll see to her night time cries for a month)
c. Giggles and gurgles I have never heard (but hope to soon)
d. Kissing her
e. Her baby smell
3) Waggle
a. How cuddly he is
b. The smell of his wet fur
c. How he tracks mud through the house
d. How he growls when we start kissing on the couch.
4) California
a. Summer
b. Beaches
c. Swimming
d. Fishing
e. Golfing
f. Reading in the hammock (it’s best with you)
g. Winter
Yes, I said I miss our winters. It’s so cold here. You can’t imagine. It hurts because all the cold makes me want to do is hold you under a bunch of blankets (real blankets, not these army issued ones). Hawkeye offered me one of his nurses (strange how I think of them as such), but I declined.
The work just keeps coming. If this was a pay by the hour job, we’d be rich.
I worry about you all the time Peg. I worry about you all.
I had a dream last night: we were in our kitchen dancing. You had on your white sundress with the blue flowers. And the room smelled like roses. And Hawkeye was there and he said he could tell how I could stay loyal to you. Hawk was ecstatic to learn he was in my dream (he’s strange sometimes, I swear, but I can’t help but love him). He said that he would probably have been begging to cut in though.
You know what else I miss? A real martini. With an olive, preferably. And taking a real, private (two people at most) shower. Speaking of showers: I’ve never taken so many self-induced cold showers as I have over here.
I feel like I’m breaking my wedding vows by being so far away from you. And I know you think I’m being silly. But I know you and Erin need me. I need both of you too. Unfortunately, these boys over here need me too. I say it’s unfortunate, because if it wasn’t for the war, these boys wouldn’t need me. (I call them boys, because most of the soldiers are about 18. Some of them are younger. The other day, Hawkeye had to turn in one kid because he was only like 15 or 16 [he had used his cousin’s information to get in]. I don’t understand boys like him. They’ll do anything to get in, while the rest of us want nothing more than to get out.) Of course there’s also women and children we work on. In some ways it’s the civilians that are the hardest to work on, because you know they just want a regular life.
I talked with Fr. Mulcahy and asked how he can keep such faith in such a seemingly godforsaken place. He said (I wish you could hear his voice; you’d love listening to him), “BJ, my son, I see all the wonderful work you all do in the operating room, and I know I’m seeing God work through all of you. And I see how many patients are saved that logic says should have died. And I watch you all, and I see how no matter how awful things get, it’s only a matter of time before someone has us all laughing - usually it’s you or Hawkeye. I look at how close we’ve come to being bombed, and not one of us has lost his life,” Mulcahy paused here, and by the look that came over his face, I wondered if he was thinking about Col. Blake (I’ll explain when I come home; I don’t want to scare you right now). He whispered, “God rest his soul” before continuing, “I look at you and Colonel Potter and how seemingly effortlessly you both stay faithful to your wives. It has to be more than just human will.”
Peg darling, do you know how much I wish I could just hold you and not let go? I miss you so much it hurts. The funny thing about missing someone is no matter how much it hurts, we don’t want it to stop, because if it does, it means we’ve gotten used to not having that person in our life, and I don’t want to have to think about my life without you or Erin (or Waggle) for a very long time.
Hawkeye’s bothering me to tell you he thinks you’re beautiful and doesn’t know why you’re wasting your time with me. He said he’s better looking than Errol Flynn. I told him blond is more your style, and he offered to borrow some of Margaret’s hair dye.
Hi Peg! Hawkeye here! Don’t worry I didn’t read the letter; mainly because it’s too long. However, judging by the fact that he only ever reads abridged copies of your letters out loud, I’m sure there’s plenty of good stuff in here. (Okay, I read the part about me. My name was mentioned, I figured that gave me every right. He got it all right.) Unfortunately I need to get my note to you finished before BJ comes back. I don’t know if BJ told you how cold it is here, or if he is trying to be strong for you, but if you knit, I’m sure he’d love a blanket from you. If you don’t, then I’m sure he’d love just as much a blanket that you bought. Anything you can find a way to send over here, we’d both appreciate it. (His constant shivering is getting annoying). I offered that he could always cuddle with a nurse for body heat, but he said even fully clothed he’d feel like he was cheating, and he’d never forgive himself for doing that. Peg, I don’t know where you found a man like BJ, but my experience with women says that every woman would love to have a husband like him. You really lucked out. Though I’m sure you don’t need me telling you that. Oh, and if you want to send me a blanket too, I wouldn’t begrudge you. Big kisses! Hawk!
Peg, I came back from eating and found out why Hawk had been so quick to get back to the Swamp -I don’t know if he thought I wouldn’t see his message to you, or what, but I’ll leave it because then you can see just what exactly I have to deal with (he really is the greatest tent mate a guy could ask for). I wasn’t going to ask for you to send a blanket, but since he brought it up, I can’t take it back because it does sound nice. Although, all I really want is you. I wish you could pack yourself into a box and ship yourself to me. No I don’t, because I don’t want you exposed to this.
It’s funny, you complain about every day things, every day chores, until they’re taken away from you. Now there’s nothing I’d rather do than mow the lawn, clean the gutters, fix the washing machine. I miss my beautiful darling wife. I feel like a lovesick kid, and I probably sound like one too. For that I apologize. It’s just so hard to be away from you. I wish I could hold you while I tell you I love you; somehow it’s not just the same writing it down. I love you more than anything in the world Peg. I hope you know that.
Hawkeye’s snoring signifies it’s time for me to get some sleep, so I bid you a fair adieu, sweet maiden (matron?)
Until we meet again,
BJ
Letter #5
TITLE: Letters Home From Korea: From Quijonbu to Mill Valley, Letter #4
FANDOM: M*A*S*H (tv series)
PAIRING: BJ/Peg (Guest starring Hawkeye)
GENRE: Het
TABLE: #11: Song Titles A
PROMPT: 08. If I Could Be Where You Are @ 12_stories
RATING: PG
WORD COUNT: 1,523
SUMMARY: It's now winter in Quijonbu. BJ still misses Peg and longs for the mundane of ordinary life. Hawkeye temporarily steals the letter to include a comment from himself.
WARNINGS: Brief references to sex.
NOTES: All my M*A*S*H fics
DISCLAIMER: This is all for fun. I own nothing.
My dear family (Peg, Erin & Waggle, too),
Thank you all for your dear letters. They mean so much to me. I’d say you have no idea how much, but I can just hear you Peg saying, “I don’t know? Honey, your letters are the only way I know you’re alive.” I suppose for all of us letters are a means of survival. Please forgive me for only writing one letter, but as you can imagine, paper is a bit of a (what’s the word for a non-edible delicacy?)
Peg, I’ll admit your list made me cry a little (I admit this only because you’re my wife). The things I miss are:
1) Peg
a. The smell of your hair
b. The taste and feel of your kiss
c. The way you look
d. Your smile
e. Your laugh
f. The way you crinkle your nose when you’re disgusted
g. The way you nuzzle my nose
h. Holding you in my arms
i. Falling asleep on the couch with you
j. Making love to you (can’t you just imagine Erin getting a hold of these letters when she’s older, grimacing over the lovey-dovey parts and freaking out about this bullet point?)
k. Having you make my morning coffee
l. Your cooking
m. Our bed
n. Our house
2) Erin
a. Being around her (I feel like one of those bum dads)
b. Having her crying waking me up in the middle of the night (Peg, when I get home, I promise I’ll see to her night time cries for a month)
c. Giggles and gurgles I have never heard (but hope to soon)
d. Kissing her
e. Her baby smell
3) Waggle
a. How cuddly he is
b. The smell of his wet fur
c. How he tracks mud through the house
d. How he growls when we start kissing on the couch.
4) California
a. Summer
b. Beaches
c. Swimming
d. Fishing
e. Golfing
f. Reading in the hammock (it’s best with you)
g. Winter
Yes, I said I miss our winters. It’s so cold here. You can’t imagine. It hurts because all the cold makes me want to do is hold you under a bunch of blankets (real blankets, not these army issued ones). Hawkeye offered me one of his nurses (strange how I think of them as such), but I declined.
The work just keeps coming. If this was a pay by the hour job, we’d be rich.
I worry about you all the time Peg. I worry about you all.
I had a dream last night: we were in our kitchen dancing. You had on your white sundress with the blue flowers. And the room smelled like roses. And Hawkeye was there and he said he could tell how I could stay loyal to you. Hawk was ecstatic to learn he was in my dream (he’s strange sometimes, I swear, but I can’t help but love him). He said that he would probably have been begging to cut in though.
You know what else I miss? A real martini. With an olive, preferably. And taking a real, private (two people at most) shower. Speaking of showers: I’ve never taken so many self-induced cold showers as I have over here.
I feel like I’m breaking my wedding vows by being so far away from you. And I know you think I’m being silly. But I know you and Erin need me. I need both of you too. Unfortunately, these boys over here need me too. I say it’s unfortunate, because if it wasn’t for the war, these boys wouldn’t need me. (I call them boys, because most of the soldiers are about 18. Some of them are younger. The other day, Hawkeye had to turn in one kid because he was only like 15 or 16 [he had used his cousin’s information to get in]. I don’t understand boys like him. They’ll do anything to get in, while the rest of us want nothing more than to get out.) Of course there’s also women and children we work on. In some ways it’s the civilians that are the hardest to work on, because you know they just want a regular life.
I talked with Fr. Mulcahy and asked how he can keep such faith in such a seemingly godforsaken place. He said (I wish you could hear his voice; you’d love listening to him), “BJ, my son, I see all the wonderful work you all do in the operating room, and I know I’m seeing God work through all of you. And I see how many patients are saved that logic says should have died. And I watch you all, and I see how no matter how awful things get, it’s only a matter of time before someone has us all laughing - usually it’s you or Hawkeye. I look at how close we’ve come to being bombed, and not one of us has lost his life,” Mulcahy paused here, and by the look that came over his face, I wondered if he was thinking about Col. Blake (I’ll explain when I come home; I don’t want to scare you right now). He whispered, “God rest his soul” before continuing, “I look at you and Colonel Potter and how seemingly effortlessly you both stay faithful to your wives. It has to be more than just human will.”
Peg darling, do you know how much I wish I could just hold you and not let go? I miss you so much it hurts. The funny thing about missing someone is no matter how much it hurts, we don’t want it to stop, because if it does, it means we’ve gotten used to not having that person in our life, and I don’t want to have to think about my life without you or Erin (or Waggle) for a very long time.
Hawkeye’s bothering me to tell you he thinks you’re beautiful and doesn’t know why you’re wasting your time with me. He said he’s better looking than Errol Flynn. I told him blond is more your style, and he offered to borrow some of Margaret’s hair dye.
Hi Peg! Hawkeye here! Don’t worry I didn’t read the letter; mainly because it’s too long. However, judging by the fact that he only ever reads abridged copies of your letters out loud, I’m sure there’s plenty of good stuff in here. (Okay, I read the part about me. My name was mentioned, I figured that gave me every right. He got it all right.) Unfortunately I need to get my note to you finished before BJ comes back. I don’t know if BJ told you how cold it is here, or if he is trying to be strong for you, but if you knit, I’m sure he’d love a blanket from you. If you don’t, then I’m sure he’d love just as much a blanket that you bought. Anything you can find a way to send over here, we’d both appreciate it. (His constant shivering is getting annoying). I offered that he could always cuddle with a nurse for body heat, but he said even fully clothed he’d feel like he was cheating, and he’d never forgive himself for doing that. Peg, I don’t know where you found a man like BJ, but my experience with women says that every woman would love to have a husband like him. You really lucked out. Though I’m sure you don’t need me telling you that. Oh, and if you want to send me a blanket too, I wouldn’t begrudge you. Big kisses! Hawk!
Peg, I came back from eating and found out why Hawk had been so quick to get back to the Swamp -I don’t know if he thought I wouldn’t see his message to you, or what, but I’ll leave it because then you can see just what exactly I have to deal with (he really is the greatest tent mate a guy could ask for). I wasn’t going to ask for you to send a blanket, but since he brought it up, I can’t take it back because it does sound nice. Although, all I really want is you. I wish you could pack yourself into a box and ship yourself to me. No I don’t, because I don’t want you exposed to this.
It’s funny, you complain about every day things, every day chores, until they’re taken away from you. Now there’s nothing I’d rather do than mow the lawn, clean the gutters, fix the washing machine. I miss my beautiful darling wife. I feel like a lovesick kid, and I probably sound like one too. For that I apologize. It’s just so hard to be away from you. I wish I could hold you while I tell you I love you; somehow it’s not just the same writing it down. I love you more than anything in the world Peg. I hope you know that.
Hawkeye’s snoring signifies it’s time for me to get some sleep, so I bid you a fair adieu, sweet maiden (matron?)
Until we meet again,
BJ
Letter #5