A Broken Rib
Feb. 18th, 2004 01:12 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
niqThis is late, I know. It's also not a full 1000 words. Sorry, ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
gamesiplay. But it's something, and it's even on the topic you asked for. Mostly. ^^;;
M*A*S*H yulefic
A Broken Rib
There were only two white people at the funeral. They made a beautiful couple.
Both carried small bouquets. His were plain, sturdy flowers, clearly picked from the side of the road. Hers were quite lovely, a stunning selection of lilies. They left their flowers seperately, under the baleful glares of the family.
When ge quietly stepped outside the small chapel, the woman caught his elbow. “I couldn't help but notice you,” she said.
He looked up in startlement. “Hello? Do I know you?”
“Probably not,” she said, with a smile. “I just was wondering how you knew Mr. Freemont?”
“He was a friend to me when I was a child. You knew him?”
“Not really. My parents just moved here, and he came by to greet us with a good luck charm. I can't believe no one else in the neighbourhood came. He was very kind to me.”
“Dennis was a good man,” he said, shortly. “And a friend to a young boy, when no one else would be, but he was blind, old, and black. I'm only surprised that anyone other than his family came, really.”
“Well, I did, and you did, and that's something, isn't it?”
“I guess it is,” he said, and managed a ghost of a smile. “Who are you?”
“Oh, I'm Peg. Peg Chesterson. And you?”
“BJ. Hunnicutt.”
“Well it's nice to meet you, BJ, although I suppose circumstances could have been better.”
“They could,” he said. “But it's nice to have met you, Miss Chesterson. Goodbye.”
Peg caught his hand before he could turn away. “Wait, let me give you my address. You can write me a letter and tell me more about Mr. Freemont.”
She took a slip of paper and a pencil out of her purse and quickly scrawled down an address in a beautiful looping script. “I'd really appreciate it, BJ,” she said sincerely as she handed it to him. Her eyes crinkled a little when she smiled.
“I can do you one better,” BJ said. “I'll take you to lunch at Leon's and tell you a little about him.”
“You live around here?” She was surprised. She'd tried to meet all her neighbours in the past few months.
“No, but my parents still do. I'm attending premed in San Francisco, right now,” he said, and took her out to lunch at Leon's. She laughed at his jokes, and her cornflower blue eyes crinkled even more when she did.
BJ tried to remember where he'd seen those eyes before and couldn't think where. It didn't seem to really matter, anyway. They were lovely, and he loved them.
They made a beautiful couple.
--
They were very happy. Soon enough, BJ was in med school and then in Residency and the two had a child on the way, all wonderful things.
He kissed his wife passionately in the morning after looking in her eyes. At night he would stroke her growing belly.
But all things pass, and he was drafted. Drafted, doctored and sent to hell. Shipped off like so much meat, he tried to remember her eyes more than anything else.
He never had figured out where he'd seen her eyes before, until he reached Korea and saw them staring back from under a mop of dark hair, same as he'd seen them for the first time, in the bowl of dark water Dennis had said he wasn't to disturb.
BJ never had disturbed it, but he'd peered into once, with Keir in his arms, and been amazed to see another little boy with bright blue eyes dancing around a dark woman with a paintbrush in her hands. When she turned around, Keir jumped out of his arms and the magic was broken.
Mr. Freemont had clucked at them both, and sent BJ home to his dinner. The little boy promptly forgot it, of course. There were other toys and things to occupy his attention.
There were other things to occupy him in Korea, pranks and jokes, and so many people to patch up, too, but magic that might not frighten a little boy frightens a grown man and it is difficult to forget something when you're afraid of it.
After awhile, he couldn't remember Peg's eyes anymore, the way they were framed with wheatblond hair. Nobody ever really could figure out when or why he stopped looking Hawkeye straight in the eye, though Hawkeye himself might have had an idea. He tended to see things he shouldn't be able to, same as his mother.
Peg never figured out why he kept brushing his hands through her hair when he returned. But they were very happy to be reunited.
BJ tried not to remember that he'd become a doctor because of Mr. Freemont, and he tried not to remember that he'd loved Peg's eyes first.
fin
[ETA: At some point I may post the three false starts this fic had. It might be interesting reading, if you're interested in the writing process, or mine at least. But not now. Now I am going to debate sleeping vs. writing more kittenfluff to reward myself.]
gamesiplay. But it's something, and it's even on the topic you asked for. Mostly. ^^;;M*A*S*H yulefic
A Broken Rib
There were only two white people at the funeral. They made a beautiful couple.
Both carried small bouquets. His were plain, sturdy flowers, clearly picked from the side of the road. Hers were quite lovely, a stunning selection of lilies. They left their flowers seperately, under the baleful glares of the family.
When ge quietly stepped outside the small chapel, the woman caught his elbow. “I couldn't help but notice you,” she said.
He looked up in startlement. “Hello? Do I know you?”
“Probably not,” she said, with a smile. “I just was wondering how you knew Mr. Freemont?”
“He was a friend to me when I was a child. You knew him?”
“Not really. My parents just moved here, and he came by to greet us with a good luck charm. I can't believe no one else in the neighbourhood came. He was very kind to me.”
“Dennis was a good man,” he said, shortly. “And a friend to a young boy, when no one else would be, but he was blind, old, and black. I'm only surprised that anyone other than his family came, really.”
“Well, I did, and you did, and that's something, isn't it?”
“I guess it is,” he said, and managed a ghost of a smile. “Who are you?”
“Oh, I'm Peg. Peg Chesterson. And you?”
“BJ. Hunnicutt.”
“Well it's nice to meet you, BJ, although I suppose circumstances could have been better.”
“They could,” he said. “But it's nice to have met you, Miss Chesterson. Goodbye.”
Peg caught his hand before he could turn away. “Wait, let me give you my address. You can write me a letter and tell me more about Mr. Freemont.”
She took a slip of paper and a pencil out of her purse and quickly scrawled down an address in a beautiful looping script. “I'd really appreciate it, BJ,” she said sincerely as she handed it to him. Her eyes crinkled a little when she smiled.
“I can do you one better,” BJ said. “I'll take you to lunch at Leon's and tell you a little about him.”
“You live around here?” She was surprised. She'd tried to meet all her neighbours in the past few months.
“No, but my parents still do. I'm attending premed in San Francisco, right now,” he said, and took her out to lunch at Leon's. She laughed at his jokes, and her cornflower blue eyes crinkled even more when she did.
BJ tried to remember where he'd seen those eyes before and couldn't think where. It didn't seem to really matter, anyway. They were lovely, and he loved them.
They made a beautiful couple.
--
They were very happy. Soon enough, BJ was in med school and then in Residency and the two had a child on the way, all wonderful things.
He kissed his wife passionately in the morning after looking in her eyes. At night he would stroke her growing belly.
But all things pass, and he was drafted. Drafted, doctored and sent to hell. Shipped off like so much meat, he tried to remember her eyes more than anything else.
He never had figured out where he'd seen her eyes before, until he reached Korea and saw them staring back from under a mop of dark hair, same as he'd seen them for the first time, in the bowl of dark water Dennis had said he wasn't to disturb.
BJ never had disturbed it, but he'd peered into once, with Keir in his arms, and been amazed to see another little boy with bright blue eyes dancing around a dark woman with a paintbrush in her hands. When she turned around, Keir jumped out of his arms and the magic was broken.
Mr. Freemont had clucked at them both, and sent BJ home to his dinner. The little boy promptly forgot it, of course. There were other toys and things to occupy his attention.
There were other things to occupy him in Korea, pranks and jokes, and so many people to patch up, too, but magic that might not frighten a little boy frightens a grown man and it is difficult to forget something when you're afraid of it.
After awhile, he couldn't remember Peg's eyes anymore, the way they were framed with wheatblond hair. Nobody ever really could figure out when or why he stopped looking Hawkeye straight in the eye, though Hawkeye himself might have had an idea. He tended to see things he shouldn't be able to, same as his mother.
Peg never figured out why he kept brushing his hands through her hair when he returned. But they were very happy to be reunited.
BJ tried not to remember that he'd become a doctor because of Mr. Freemont, and he tried not to remember that he'd loved Peg's eyes first.
fin
[ETA: At some point I may post the three false starts this fic had. It might be interesting reading, if you're interested in the writing process, or mine at least. But not now. Now I am going to debate sleeping vs. writing more kittenfluff to reward myself.]
