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.

Hawkeye hesitated. After a moment, he asked, "How many did you save today?"

When she scoffed, they both looked at her in surprise. But she just shook her head, shaking in anger. "Saved? I saved their lives for now, but the battle's only half done! What happens to them when they go back home? What happens to their families, to themselves? It doesn't end here!"

"Speaking from experience?" BJ ventured.

"Yes, actually, I am!" But she stopped herself from going further. "I already regret saying anything. I haven't had enough alcohol to make me say more." The last little bit of alcohol dripped from the upturned glass into her mouth.

Hawkeye laughed. "Have you had any food since the shift ended? Cause I'm starving."

"Hungry enough to eat food from the Mess Tent?" asked BJ.

"That comment just ruined my appetite."

Nellie's frown broke. She looked over at Hawkeye and just shook her head. Putting her glass at her side table, she forced herself to stand with a slight wobble.

BJ opened the door. "I wish I could say I was excited."

As they walked out, Nellie blinked back from the sunlight. Her window covers had been down. But now the late afternoon sun beat down on them harshly. BJ and Hawkeye flanked her. Her heart constricted thinking about that; they really were quite kind. She wondered if Jack had helped anyone like they tried with everyone in the 4077th.

To her surprise, the Mess Tent had already filled when they got there. BJ guided the way through the mass of bodies over to a table with Father Mulcahy, Colonel Potter, and Margaret. "Mind if we join," he said, but didn't hesitate.

"Nellie is always good company," Margaret replied. She winked at her. "These two, on the other hand."

She cracked a smile, but before she could respond, Hawkeye interrupted. He gestured to the food. "I'm going to get her food. I can be a gentleman when I want to!"

"That'll be a first." But Margaret just shook her head and chewed at her food.

Nellie laughed. "If Hawkeye wants to do my work for me, I'm not going to say no."

The whole table broke into chuckles. Hawkeye disappeared, consumed by the line. Nellie's attention turned to the others.

"You know what I could really go for right now?" said BJ. He rubbed his hands together thoughtfully. "A big, greasy slice of real pepperoni pizza."

The entire table moaned as one. Colonel Potter shook his head. "Good grief, Hunnicutt, why would you say that!"

"I could eat a whole pizza," Nellie added.

"Sorry! I'm sorry! But I can just smell it."

Margaret scooped up a few noodles on her fork. With a look of disdain, she put them back down. "Here. You eat this." She pushed her tray in front of BJ.

"Here, one tray of Pernelli's finest courtesy of Hawkeye Pierce."

As he slid in next to Nellie, she nodded her thanks. Then she smirked. "Next time, I expect pizza."

While the others laughed, Hawkeye just looked around in confusion. But BJ continued. "Hey Hawk, I bet if you get her a pizza, she may let you sit next to her at the next movie."

Nellie grinned. She leaned closer to Hawkeye and dropped her voice to a whisper. "You get me a pizza, you get yourself a date with me."

"Oh boy, oh boy, oh boy." Hawkeye's grin spread across his face, even as he turned away.

"Don't forget about the rest of us, Hawkeye," Father Mulcahy quickly added. He smiled.

"O'Hara!"

Nellie turned to see Klinger carrying a handful of letters. She out down her fork. Taking the letter he handed over, she smiled to find it was from Jack.

"Pierce! Potter!"

"Gimme that." Hawkeye grabbed his with unbridled enthusiasm.

"Don't hurt him," Nellie said with a laugh.

"Glad to know somebody cares."

Mulcahy shook his head. "We all do. Don't let them pretend otherwise."

"You're like our own, loveable golden retriever."

"Hawkeye!" Though she couldn't repress her own laugh at the image, she still scolded him.

BJ didn't let up either. "Is he a golden retriever though?"

Margaret just shrugged. "Poodle?"

"Hot dog?"

"Okay, okay, you three simmer down." Potter shook his head. "Klinger, go finish the mail."

He left with a flourish. As they finished dinner, talk turned to the next movie night. Father Mulcahy didn't have any idea of the title of the next one. Secretly, Nellie hoped for a Disney Pictures film. As the conversation devolved, she turned to her letter.

"Dear Nellie..."

Jack's letter spoke of various matters of back home. His state department job kept him relatively busy, but he told her about her John's Hopkins colleagues too. Janet, the supervising nurse, sent her regards. Robert from the night shift wanted to know how Tokyo was. Even Deborah, the older woman who ran the front desk, asked Jack to send her own greetings.

"Marjorie Hutton's Maltese had puppies. She wants me to take one. Nothing against those things, but they're so white and fluffy and small. Not my idea of a dog for me," he wrote. "But anyways, she's convinced I need one since you left. Doesn't want me to get lonely. I appreciate her concern but I'm fine."

"Good letter?" BJ asked, interrupting her. Between bites, he tried to glimpse the envelope across the table.

Nellie shrugged. With a nod, she just tucked it back away to finish later. "From Jack. That must be from when I was in Tokyo."

"Least we know your mail will find us now," said Potter.

Hawkeye snorted. "For once the Army didn't foul up."

"I'll see you guys later. Enjoy the food." Nellie carried her tray out to the garbage and dumped what was left. Feeling a bit better, she pulled out her letter and restarted. As her door closed behind her, she rolled up the windows and plopped on her bed.

"You know Cindy downstairs? She asked me to tell you that she's going to college for pre med. You know how much her parents are against it, but she saved enough money from housework and borrowed the rest from her uncle."

Her smile grew with each word she read. The image of Jack with a Maltese nearly had her in stitches. Trust Marjorie to offer, she always tried to get a little too close with Jack for her liking. A knock interrupted her twenty minutes later as she began her reply. Margaret stood at her door.

"Some of the nurses are organizing a poker game at Rosie's. You want to join us?"

"Oh, sure!"

"Bigelow's getting everyone together."

Nellie grabbed her wallet. Joining Margaret outside, they made their way down the road towards the Korean bar. As they approached, Rosie's voice could be heard clearly yelling at some poor fool.

"I'm done with him! Get him out!"

When the two majors reached the bar, they found a girl herding Irving the dog out to the street. She said something to them in Korean before ducking back inside.

"One of these days, Irving is going to get himself hurt," Margaret muttered. She pushed aside the red door curtains went inside.

For a Friday night, Rosie's looked surprisingly empty. A few corpsmen sat at the bar and a well dressed Korean woman swayed to a jukebox, but not much else was happening.

Rosie nodded to them. "Majors, nice to see some responsible faces around here! Your nurses are setting up in the side room." As she cleaned glasses, Rosie gestured to a doorway.

Nellie followed Margaret. When they rounded the doorway, they found Gwen Adair, Peggy Bigelow, Shelley Lacey, and Jan Baker pulling a few tables together. A deck of cards sat off to the side.

"Hey! They're here!" Peggy grinned as they came in. "Pull up chairs. We can get started."

"I should warn you all, I got some pretty good hands last week," Nellie joked. She took a seat next to Shelley and Margaret.

Margarate scoffed. "You only came up big in the last round. You got lucky. Deal." She handed the cards to Nellie.

As they all put in a dollar to ante, Nellie shuffled. The edges of her mouth tugged up into a smirk as she eyed her competition. Peggy chewed on a pretzel, but Nellie had learned enough about the spunky nurse in a week's time not to underestimate her. On the other hand, Gwen and Jan tended to stay on the quiet side. Dangerous, potentially. Shelley seemed more like Peggy Bigelow than the other two, outspoken, but Nellie didn't know her well enough to make a full judgement call.

"Ready?"

"Just deal."

Nellie laughed at Margaret but did as she was told. "Five card draw. Let's make it interesting... Deuces are wild." With each snap of her wrist, another card flew across the wooden tables. Finally, all six women had their hands full. "Margaret?"

"One dollar."

By the time the bets reached Nellie, she had to put in five dollars. Everyone matched, and she turned back to Margaret.

"Three."

Nellie slid three cards to her. "Gwen?"

"Two."

Jan took three, Peggy took two, and Shelley took one. Nellie looked at her own hand again and grimaced inwardly. She had a pair of threes, a jack, a ten, and a seven. Not much to speak of except the pair. "Dealer takes three."

After discarding her unimportant cards, she drew three more. A queen, another seven, and an ace. Nellie quickly decided not to risk anything further.

"Margaret, your bet."

"Two." With a quick flash of her hand, she laid two bills on the pile in the center.

Gwen quickly matched her bet and raised one. Jan kept going but didn't raise. When it came to Peggy, though, she smiled and upped it three.

"I don't trust you." Shelley furrowed her brow and glanced between her own cards and Peggy next to her. She carefully ran her fingers through them. "Fine. I'll meet your raises, and raise you two."

Nellie shook her head. "I am definitely out."

"How much is it to me?" Margaret asked.

"Six more to stay in."

Margaret huffed. But she didn't back down. Moments later, six more bills joined the center. In the end, Jan also folded, leaving Peggy, Shelley, Margaret, and Gwen in the running.

"Call," Margaret ordered.

As the four women revealed their cards, Shelley grinned and whooped for joy. "Sixty dive dollars to me, please and thank you." She grabbed the pot with both arms and pulled it close.

"How did you end up with a straight!" Peggy groaned as she sat back in her chair. "I need another drink before I keep playing."

Nellie chuckled. "I agree. What do you ladies want?"

Orders for three beers, two scotches, and a glass of wine were called out. She ducked into the main room and walked to the bar.

"Whatdya want?" Rosie asked. When Nellie gave the order, she nodded. "Give me a minute."

She stood against the bar and faced the red curtained doorway. Korean music filled the room from the jukebox and made for a pleasant atmosphere, if anywhere in a warzone could be referred to as pleasant. It was almost peaceful.

And then Hawkeye and BJ walked in. Loud as ever, they were arguing over some indeterminate small thing. Before long, they caught sight of Nellie and headed over.

Hawkeye slid next to her. "Looking for company?"

"No, actually. I have company already."

"Who did what I could not?"

Nellie just shook her head. With a quick smile, she gestured to the side room. As Rosie placed the six drinks on the counter and she paid up, Nellie turned to the two men. "Here. Carry something."

Hawkeye and BJ both ended up staying around for hours. They watched the women play poker with enthusiasm, and played the part of drink fetchers admirably. In the end, Shelley came out with the most money, but all of them had done moderately well to not lose too terribly much.

At 0200 hours, Klinger wandered in with a yawn to let them know the Colonel wanted everyone back to camp. Apparently wounded would be arriving again sometime before daybreak. Grudgingly, they all headed back.

Nellie lingered by the bar in Rosie's. She ran her hand along the wooden top. Cracks and holes marred the surface. Stains from alcohol and maybe even blood only made it look worse. Gone was her good mood of only an hour ago, replaced by a rare feeling of utter dread.

"You coming?"

She looked up to see Hawkeye standing inside the door. The others had all left. With his hunched shoulders and hands in his pockets, she didn't think he was in a much better mood than she. "Yes. Sorry."

"Henry, our old CO, he told me something once. One of his few moments when he was sober. He told me, there are certain rules about war. One is that young men die, and another is that doctors can't change that."

Nellie looked up at him as they crossed the road in the dark. He didn't make eye contact. Instead he looked ahead, miles and miles away. She didn't have answer to his statement. But then, neither did he.