Athena Project [ M*A*S*H ]

S*E*V*E*N*T*E*E*N

It surprised her very little that BJ and Hawkeye stood outside her tent. As she forced herself to straighten up, her head spun a little and she found it difficult to fully focus. "Can I help you?" she managed to sputter out.

They barely flinched at her snap. Hawkeye spoke up first, glancing beyond her and then back. "We're heading over to Rosie's. Coming?"

"I'm good here."

BJ's mouth inched up in a small smile. With a quick gesture to the desk just visible beyond her, he shrugged. "You know, Rosie's is a long walk. Could we grab a drink here?"

"What happened to people talking if you come in?"

"What happened to you not caring," Hawkeye countered back. His smirk grew as she just stared at him, adjusting her stance ever so slightly. "Come on, you worried about their gossip?"

Nellie snorted. "I live for the gossip." Nellie took a seat on her bed near the door, folding her legs under her. The sudden movement made her wobble ever so slightly. She caught herself. "One of you pour though. I'm not playing host."

With a light laugh, BJ nodded and grabbed the scotch bottle. But as he went to pick up one of the glasses, Nellie's breath hitched. She scrambled off the bed and grabbed it. "Actually, give me that." Her hand shook involuntarily as BJ poured the scotch.

"Hawk?"

"Why are you even asking? Give me the good stuff!"

With Nellie resettled on her bed, and Hawkeye taking a spot at the other end, she downed half the glass. Her eyes closed as the tangy liquid coated her mouth and throat. It spread like fire.

"Good?"

She cleared her throat. "Yeah." Nellie's fingers trailed over the top and engraved edges of her shot glass. Her mind wandered away, way back to Baltimore, to the brother she understood now better than she ever thought would be possible. Then she glanced back to the others. "You going to drink those or stare at them?"

Hawkeye laughed and downed his own in one drink. BJ followed but spent more time with his own, not seeing a reason to be rid of it quickly. "You were quiet in the OR today," he ventured.

Her hand stopped shaking as she grabbed the glass tight. "I thought you two were a little loud."

"That's our job," Hawkeye joked. "Forty percent to stitch back together a bunch of kids, fifty percent to cause trouble."

"You left out ten percent."

BJ answered for him. "Ten percent to complain about it the whole time!"

"Or to drink."

A small smile crept onto her face. She held out her glass and BJ filled it part of the way. "That's it?"

He shrugged. But Hawkeye jumped in. "Trust me, having more will mean pain tomorrow."

"He knows what he's talking about. And more wounded should be on the way in the next twenty four hours," BJ added.

She felt her throat tighten. Nellie couldn't lift the shot glass to her lips. The amber liquid just sat there, shaking ever so slightly in her glass.

"It's not easy losing one."

Nellie glanced up at BJ. She had so much she wanted to explain, so much to say. But she couldn't. The words refused to form. She could see the boy's dog tags in her mind, and the words there morphed into Jack's own. He'd survived the war, but not by much. Tears threatened to spill over. She couldn't allow that. With a deep breath, she forced down the rest of the scotch.