They finished in the OR at about 0400 hours. For the first time in a month of sessions, Nellie didn't leave falling over from exhaustion. She had too much to think about. If she remembered correctly, the shoulder patches from the wounded were 187th. Rakkasans, if she remembered their nickname correctly. Jack had talked all about the various Airborne units in World War Two.

She spent an hour in her tent. At 0600, she tired of not being tired, and pulled on her robe and shower shoes. The sun hadn't quite started to rise yet. But the crickets were out in full force, and the stars and moon had all disappeared. It couldn't be much longer.

The water at 0600 steamed up the whole shower tent. Nellie breathed in deeply, relishing the rare hot water. Truly remarkable. She scrubbed every inch of her body with soap and a cloth. Her hair took a bit longer, but eventually she felt clean enough to slip back into her robe and meander back to her little tent home. As she did so, she heard a jeep pull up.

It didn't take long for her to change into her fatigues for the day. With laced up boots and her hair pulled back into a messy, wet, bun she moved back outside. Even in the five minutes since being in the compound, the sky had lightened. She decided to go check on the wounded Airborne infantry.

To her surprise, Post Op only had Kellye on duty. She sat at the Nurse's Desk, frowning. Nellie moved over to her, keeping as quiet as possible so as not to disturb the wounded. "Kellye, what's wrong?"

"Oh, Doctor. Some Airborne major stormed in here and dressed down Hawkeye for being asleep at the desk." She shook her head. "Then Hawkeye started yelling back, so the major demanded to see Colonel Potter. They're waiting in Klinger's office."

"Of course they are," she muttered. Nellie sighed. She had no reason to get involved. But it irked her a bit that the major had come into the hospital and tried to give them reprimands. So against her better judgement, she put on her lab coat and slipped into Klinger's office.

Klinger was nowhere to be seen, but Hawkeye leaned against his desk with a glare that could've murdered someone. The object of his fury, the Airborne major, stood tall with dark hair and arms crossed over his chest.

"I expect you to carry yourself with some goddamn self-respect, Captain," he snapped. "You may not like it here, but you're here anyways." He shook his head. "Jesus Christ, Captain. I expect you to at least carry yourself with respect for the men if not the uniform."

Hawkeye went to bite back but caught sight of Nellie. "Ah, Major, I see you're here to meet our newest arrival, he's a real Major Problem."

Nellie arched an eyebrow as the Airborne major turned to look in her direction. His thinly veiled surprise at her presence and Major clusters paused his arguing briefly. She nodded at him. "Major. With all due respect, it can be difficult after an entire night in surgery to be on our best behaviors. This close to surgery, they're all still asleep anyways."

"Who are you?" He demanded.

"That's Major O'Hara, M.D.," Hawkeye said. He stood up from the desk and pointed her way. "You may not listen to some dumb captain, but she's your rank. So listen to her, unless of course, you wouldn't want to listen to a woman."

"Listen, Captain, and I'm using that term loosely," he snapped, "I suggest you remove yourself from this building or I will."

"Oh I'm so scared," Hawkeye teased. "The US Army. Making the world safe for truth, justice, and bodily threats. You know you've got real nerve waltzing in here and complaining about our operation. If you real army men could care enough to stop the war none of us would have to be here."

The Major straightened up. "Get out. Now."

Nellie felt her body heating up in anger. She'd been defending Hawkeye, but she'd never quite been able to get behind his hatred for the army. And somehow seeing him badmouth an Airborne officer made her more furious than usual. "Hawkeye, get out," she agreed. "Go cool off in the Swamp. That's an order."

He looked at her in surprise, was that hurt too? But he just scoffed, and slammed the door with his palm as he left. As the door swung on its hinges, she clenched her fists.

"Did he say your name was O'Hara?"

Nellie turned back from the door. She'd almost forgotten about the Airborne major in her internal argument over Hawkeye that never seemed to leave her mind. But he seemed to have calmed down some with Hawkeye's absence. She nodded. "Major Nellie O'Hara, surgeon."

"You wouldn't happen to be Jack's sister, then?"

Her eyes widened. Words failed her. How the hell did this man know her brother? After a moment of silence, he spoke again, smirking a bit.

"Major Ron Speirs, formerly of the 506th PIR." He nodded. "I served with your brother in World War Two, in-"

"Dog Company." She grinned. "Yes. He's mentioned you."

"That so? He mentioned quite a bit about you as well." Ron shook his head, smiling a bit. "How'd you end up in the army as a surgeon?"

"Long story-"

The doors burst open and Klinger returned with Colonel Potter in tow. At his entrance, Speirs straightened up and saluted. "Major Ronald Speirs, 187th Airborne Infantry Regiment."

"At ease, Major. Colonel Sherman Potter." He yawned, still with his red and white striped robe around his ODs. "What did you need me for at this ungodly hour?"

"Sir, I needed to inform you that any and all records of my men here need to be classified," he said. "Orders from General Trapnell. No one but your staff is allowed to know of our presence here."

"And that couldn't wait until later this morning?" Potter muttered to himself. But he nodded, and beckoned Speirs to follow him. "Come in here, son. We'll discuss this in my office."

But Nellie narrowed her eyes. She saw a stain on the side of Speirs' fatigues. "Hold on, Colonel. Major, were you hit?"

"It's nothing serious," Speirs insisted. "What is serious is this order."

"Now hold on, Major. If you've been hit, that comes first."

Potter moved over to him as Speirs pulled his shirt out from where it had been tucked in. Nellie crouched down, and examined the cut on his side. She touched the skin around it and saw him flinch. Potter saw it too.

"It needs to be cleaned and stitched up," He ordered. "Major Speirs, when you've done that, then we'll discuss your secret mission. Until then, go with Major O'Hara and get that wound looked at. The last thing we need is for you to get an infection and potentially get all your men sick too."

He made a face, frowning, but didn't argue. "Yes, sir."

"Come on, Major."

Nellie gestured to the door to Pre-Op. He nodded back to Colonel Potter one more time before joining her. She buzzed with questions. Jack had told her so much about Ron Speirs. He'd been Second Platoon's Leader while Jack had been in First. From what she could tell, they'd gotten along fairly well. Jack had certainly spoken highly of him.

She'd heard stories though. Apparently Speirs had quite a temper, and during World War Two and even shot his own sergeant for being drunk. Jack told her the sergeant had drawn his weapon on Speirs first, but then also said that Ron had fanned the rumors amongst his men, and the men of other companies. He also had quite a love of cigarettes.

"How is he? I haven't heard from him in about a year," Speirs said.

Nellie looked over at him as they pushed into the OR. "He's doing much better now. Wait here, I need to go scrub."

Leaving him sitting on one of the tables, she went into the scrub room. SHe pulled on the basic whites and set to work on her hands and arm. The cut wasn't too bad. But it definitely needed stitches. She grabbed the materials she'd need and then went back inside, mask on.

"Take your shirt off," she ordered. Then she frowned. "Lay down too. This cut's at an odd angle."

He did as instructed. Narrowing her eyes, she looked at the cut that went diagonal across his side and stomach. It looked like a knife wound.

"How'd you end up in the army, O'Hara?"

As she grabbed the rubbing alcohol and some gauze to clean the wound, Nellie glanced up at him. "Not wondering how I ended up a surgeon, first?"

"Your brother talked about you," he said. "Mentioned you were pre-med. So no, I'm not surprised." His body flinched involuntarily as she started cleaning the wound. Through gritted teeth, he continued on. "But the army doesn't have female surgeons."

"It didn't, until about three months ago," she told him. Nellie looked closer at the wound. It didn't appear infected. The skin was still a normal temperature, the color pale and not flushed. "Now I'm one of the first." As Nellie grabbed the thread and the needle, she looked at him. "You, Jack, you had the paratroopers. I have this." She started the stitches.

"Shit," he hissed.

Nellie frowned. "I'm sorry about Hawkeye. He doesn't understand." Shaking her head, she bit her lip beneath the mask and tried to explain. "If he knew what you all went through back in World War Two..."

"While he was studying for exams we were freezing our asses off in Bastogne," Speirs snapped. "I know his type. Too many of you surgeons act like him. Better than the rest of us, above the Army. It means jack-shit to me. He wouldn't last five minutes in the Airborne."

"I know," she agreed. "He's an idiot. But he's an incredible doctor," she said. "And that's what he's here for."

Ron flinched every time she pulled the needle through his skin. It was delicate work, and she stopped talking. He seemed content to lay in the silence as well. By the time she'd finished and cleaned and wrapped the area, the sun had come out and shone bright through the OR windows. Nellie nodded.

"You can sit up." She handed him his shirt back and sighed. As he did so, pulling his shirt over his well-toned body, she just shook his head. "Hawkeye's an idiot. But he's worth a lot to this unit. Please don't report him."

Speirs eased himself off the table and looked at her. Then he shrugged. "Fine. Only because I owe Jack about ten favors." He looked at her and nodded. "Now I've got to report to your Colonel."

"Right." As Nellie threw her scrubs into a laundry basket, she led the way back through Pre Op and into Klingers office. "Oh, and then would you want to grab breakfast?" She smiled at him. "Jack talked a lot about you. I'd like to get to know my brother's friend."

He nodded. "Yeah, sure. He said I'd like you," he added.

"Funny," Nellie laughed. "He said the same to me."

Speirs wasted no time ducking into the Colonel's office. For a moment, Nellie couldn't move. She felt closer to Jack than she'd felt maybe ever. Even closer than when he'd been standing in front of her, refusing to discuss the war. This was a friend of his. Ronald Speirs, Platoon Leader in Dog, Company Commander of Easy. Finally a connection to her brother.