They walked side by side across camp. The late afternoon sun beat down hot, and Nellie shifted off her button down, exposing her light tan tank top beneath. When they approached the Swamp, they found BJ knitting something pink, while Margaret and Charles sat staring forward furiously.

Nellie took a few deep breaths. Calming her last few nerves, she moved inside when Hawkeye opened the door. Everyone turned to look.

"Well, screwballs, what's the plan?"

"Pierce there is no plan. We're going to be court martialed." Charles took a deep breath.

Nellie wandered over to the Still. She poured herself a martini glass of gin. Leaning against the table, she took a sip. Margaret sat against the furnace on a chair they used for poker. She had one hand on her chin, deep in thought. Nellie found it funny that BJ had seated himself on Charles's desk. If that wasn't proof of how despondent Charles was, then the man's somber seated position, hands folded across his chest, gave her all the proof she needed.

Hawkeye picked up BJ's bright pink yarn and sat down on Charles's bunk. His silence reigned. Only the occasional clicking of the knitting needles broke it. Finally, just as Nellie's fears started to return, Hawkeye spoke up.

"You know...there is not one more free than those with nothing to lose."

BJ just shrugged. "Catchy, but irrelevant."

"Now is not the time to wax philosophic, Pierce. Especially not when one's address is to be changed to Leavenworth." Charles paused and then gaped. "Oh, my God, that's in Kansas..."

Nellie had to suppress a chuckle at his reaction. Fitting that Charles's fear would come not from the fact that they'd end up in prison, but that the prison they'd end up in was found in Kansas.

"Look, we're already getting busted for insubordination. Why not go out in a blaze of glory?"

Nellie choked on her gin. But she smiled. "Let the crime fit the punishment?"

BJ looked up. He stopped his knitting and nodded. "I love it."

"Let's get that twerp," said Margaret.

"Charles?"

"Pierce that is a childish and altogether immature and petulant suggestion. When do we nail the swine?"

Hawkeye grinned and rubbed his hands together. Then he turned. "Nellie, are you in?"

She didn't respond right away. Her initial reaction had been a resounding yes, but her brain forced her to stop. With what had happened so far, she could potentially dispute the charges. Maybe they'd be rescinded in court. If she joined them in this quest for revenge, all hope for that was gone. Helping the others had already cost her her commission and potentially freedom. Was she prepared to do that again? But then, could she live with herself if she didn't?

"Let's make it a good one," she said. Nellie met Hawkeye's gaze and nodded. His smirk back made her wink.

"Right. What does Tucker like most?"

"Being a jackass?" suggested Margaret.

"Not wrong, but what else."

BJ put the knitting on the desk beside him. "A shot and a beer."

Hawkeye smirked. The troupe spent an hour planning their attack. In the end they decided on simple, but dramatic. BJ went to find a barrel, and Hawkeye collected money around the camp.

In the end, Nellie had a shift in Post Op, so she left the others to set up their revenge. As 1700 hours rolled around and most of the camp went for dinner, she grabbed her lab coat and stethoscope. She entered Klinger's office.

Nellie laughed out loud. "What the hell are you wearing?"

Klinger lay in bed, dressed in what could only be described as a Cleopatra costume. A gold dress, it had cones of shiny silver as a bra, and a full beaded headdress as well. Klinger's dark chest hair did not complement the outfit.

"I am the queen of Egypt! Hail my servant!"

Nellie raised an eyebrow. She chewed on her lip to try and stop from laughing again. "Find a different servant, Cleo. I'm here with a telegram."

"What is a telegram? Is that a way to commune with the gods?"

"Klinger, Tucker isn't even here-" She paused when Klinger pointed to Colonel Potter's office. "Right. Then I'm going to leave this telegram on your desk. Whenever Tucker isn't here, send it." She put the folded paper near the phone and continued on into Post Op.

"Hey doc!"

Nellie turned from the Nurse's Desk, where she'd been checking in with Jan Baker. The man who had called her lay on the right side of post op, about three beds down. "What's wrong, Sergeant?"

"We was wondering if that Colonel guy did anything crazy to yah guys?" He gestured to the other patients near him. "We heard him blowing up outside earlier."

With a sad smile, she shrugged. Suddenly she realized she had the attention of the entire room, about fifteen beds.

"Well." Nellie turned herself to the whole room. They hung on her words. "Colonel Tucker has decided to bring the whole medical staff up on charges for insubordination and conduct unbecoming of an officer."

The whole room started arguing, with varying exclamations of disbelief. Jan looked at Nellie in shock. She just shrugged in reply, trying to force a smile.

"Calm down. It's not good for you all to be getting this excited," Nellie urged. "We're handling it."

"That's just not fair!"

"I know, Sergeant. But he's a Colonel."

Nellie started checking their charts. She stayed quiet, asking only a few questions of each patient. Finally she got to the patients who were going to be released in about an hour. Connor glared ahead of himself.

"How's your leg feeling, Connor?"

"Fine, ma'am." He paused, and then continued, glancing up at her. "You're going to be court-martialed?"

Nellie smiled, but her heart wasn't in it. She stood at the end of his cot and hung up his chart again. "We'll see what happens."

"I hope you don't."

Tears sprang to her eyes. She smiled again, and nodded. "If I don't see you before you're shipped back to your unit... best of luck Connor. Remember that it's okay to be scared."

As she said the words, she could feel in her heart how hypocritical it was coming from her. She tried everything to avoid real fear, real emotion. But there was no reason this eighteen year old needed to follow her example.

"Thanks, Major."

Nodding, she left post op. Her stethoscope went in her coat pocket, and she didn't even bother to take that off. 1800 hours had rolled around, but Nellie still didn't feel like eating. Hawkeye and BJ crossed the compound and joined her where she stood outside the hospital.

"How much money did you collect?" she asked.

Hawkeye grinned. "Enough to fill half a barrel!"

"It's a shame to waste the beer on him."

BJ and Hawkeye both laughed. They strolled together back to the Swamp. Nellie considered following them, but in the end she returned to her own tent for a nap. They had been up quite early for surgery, and it was starting to catch up to her. She set her alarm clock for 2030 hours.

It ended up being a knock at her door, and not the alarm that woke her later. She found BJ and Margaret at her door. Nellie nodded, saying she'd be along to the Officers' Club momentarily, and they left.

She put on her Hawaiian shirt and a pair of khaki shorts. If Tucker had issue with her clothing, he could take issue with it again. The walk over to the club didn't take long, and when she slipped inside, she smiled. The jukebox played swing in the background. Most of the tables were occupied, and she had to step around various patrons to reach the bar. She slipped in next to Hawkeye and Margaret.

"Rizzo's holding the table for us," Margaret told her.

Nellie looked over her shoulder. The Sergeant in question lay his head on the table, sleeping, a thick brown cigar stuck in his mouth. Her gaze then traveled up to the ceiling, where a small barrel had been suspended precariously over the chairs. A tan rope had been connected to it, hung across the ceiling to where it could be pulled in the Officers' Club corner. She couldn't stop a small smirk from forming.

Suddenly BJ came rushing over from look out at the door. "They're coming!"

"Right. He's had his dinner, now he's going to get his just desserts." Hawkeye moved over with BJ to Rizzo. "Hey Rizzo, we need the table now."

"What's," he drawled. "S'it lunch time?"

BJ stopped himself from laughing. "Uh, yeah."

"Good. I could use a meal."

They placed Rizzo at a table with Troy, Straminsky, and Vanderhoven. The three orderlies had to make room best they could. Just as Hawkeye and BJ scooted back over to the bar, Tucker and Potter came in.

Nellie watched, a shot of whiskey on her lips, as Hawkeye moved over to the pull rope. Listening to those around her, she heard Margaret and Charles muttering about other plans to get back at Colonel Tucker. The man in question continued to complain to Colonel Potter.

Goldman came over. "What'll it be, sirs?"

"Just a beer for me," said Potter.

"A shot and a beer."

"Uh, Colonel, could we see you over here for a moment?" BJ gestured to him.

Potter apologized to Tucker. When he reached BJ, he leaned against the bar between him and Nellie. "What's the matter, Hunnicutt?"

"Something's come up. Tucker's number."

Even as Potter looked at him in confusion, Goldman handed a drink to Tucker. But the other Colonel sneered. "I ordered a shot and a beer! Where's my beer?"

"Beer's on you, Colonel!"

At Hawkeye's shout, they all looked over with varying levels of laughter. Nellie kept her expression as straight as possible, but even she couldn't keep the smirk off her face. All at once, several things happened.

As Hawkeye pulled the rope, the half filled barrel of beer poured down on Colonel Tucker. Potter looked absolutely aghast, but the entire medical staff started cackling with glee. The nearby nurses and orderlies hopped away, shaking beer off their clothes and skin.

"You jackasses!" Tucker sputtered through the beer dripping down his face. His huge body rose from the chair. With a fury to rival anything she'd witnessed before, he shouted again. "You imbeciles!"

"Did you know you squish when you walk?" Hawkeye pointed at him. But he couldn't help himself from almost crying of laughter.

Nellie burst out laughing along with the others. The man walked forward, ready to kill someone. "Nobody does this to Daniel Webster Tucke-"

He collapsed. The room went silent. Only Colonel Potter reacted, rushing to the side of the drenched Colonel. "It's his heart!"

All mirth had drained from the room. Nellie covered her mouth in shock as the others rushed to help. Potter threw Hawkeye away. "You've done enough!"

She'd never seen the Colonel so angry. His eyes narrowed in hatred at the medical personnel. Her heart sank into her boot. No matter how much she hated the Colonel, she hadn't meant to contribute to his death.

"Pierce."

They all looked up as Colonel Tucker eeked out Hawkeye's name. The man came to the floor beside him as they waited for a gurney and blankets.

"What- what is it? I can't hear you."

The room went silent again. They could only hear the dripping of the beer off the table. Hawkeye looked torn apart.

"April fool's."

Silence.

"What?"

Colonel Potter and Colonel Tucker laughed so hard, Nellie thought they would burst. She looked at them in utter confusion. Potter helped Tucker off the ground, and they continued laughing their heads off.

"You were marvelous, Dan!" Potter grinned at his friend and then back at the surgeons. "We got all you jokers! Got you, and you, and even that hairy koo-koo who thinks he's queen of the Nile!"

All of the pranksters exchanged glances as Tucker straightened himself out and stopped crying from laughter. He sighed with a smile.

Potter just continued on. "I loved that line: 'Whaddya want, a medal?'" He cackled again.

"Like shootin' fish in a barrel!" Tucker put up his fists and pretended to punch them. "Wanna' step outside for a little four-letter word!"

Finally, Margaret cracked a smile. "You mean this whole time-"

"We set this up weeks ago!" Potter pointed at all of them. "I knew if Dan pushed you fool's hard enough, you'd pull a stupid stunt like this! Y'all went for it like a school of hungry carp!"

BJ, Hawkeye, Margaret and Charles started laughing along. But Nellie couldn't. Her shock turned to anger, a boiling rage that made her fists clench until her knuckles turned white. As the others started clapping, she turned back towards the bar and had Goldman refill her whiskey. She downed the new glass in one motion.

As Potter and Tucker started telling tales of their April Fool's Day pranks, she moved away from the bar. They'd been doing it all the time since World War One. The others seemed enraptured by their tales, but Nellie shook with anger. She put her glass down at the end of the bar. Leaving them to their antics, she left quietly.

Her feet took her away. After retrieving her journal, she moved away from the Officers' Club, away from the hospital. She found herself leaving camp. Lights flooded out of Rosie's bar as she approached. The big sign over the door welcomed her.

She found it surprisingly empty. Two tables had soldiers, but other than that, only Rosie, a couple comfort women, and a worker meandered about.

"Major, welcome! How you enjoying Korea so far?" Rosie walked over as Nellie came to the bar.

Nellie just bit her lip. "It's interesting. Anyone using the side room?"

"Not tonight. Got a couple tables in there also. Take a seat." As Nellie nodded, she added, "Whatcha drinking tonight?"

"Vodka."

"Right. I'll bring it in."

Nellie sat herself down at a table in the side room. She enjoyed the solitude it offered, while still being able to hear the rest of the bar. Taking her anger out on the page, she began composing a letter to her brother. She'd need to send out a telegram later to him to bring him up to speed that she wasn't being court-martialed, but she wanted to send a letter out as well.

As her hand scribbled across the page, the bar fell away. It became her, her anger, and her pen. Even the vodka was left untouched.

"Penny for your thoughts."

She glanced up to see BJ leaning in the doorway. Though he smiled, she could just tell his brain worked overtime. Nellie leaned back and shut her book.

"You left in a hurry."

"You're always the observant one, aren't you. I wasn't as amused as most of you seemed to be."

BJ chuckled. He moved into the side room and pulled out the chair across from her. With a shrug he just sighed. "Didn't appreciate their sense of humor?"

"I've got a lot to think about."

"Yeah, after you and Hawk-"

She sat straighter. "I kissed him, Hunnicutt. But yes, the fact that I'm not about to be thrown in jail makes this more complicated." Then she narrowed her eyes. "How did you find out, anyways?"

The grin on BJ's face widened. "I can read Hawkeye like a book. And his face when you two left your tent told me all I needed to know." He leaned back in his chair. "Besides, it was only a matter of time."

"Given Hawkeye's pursuit of all the women in camp-"

BJ stopped her. "No. Because he won't stop talking about you." When he saw her confusion he just laughed. "I don't think he realizes it. But you come up in conversation all the time. I'm starting to worry that my place as number one in his life is about to change."

"I've only been here a little over a week and a half, BJ."

"What can I say?" He shrugged. "When Hawk falls, he falls hard."

Nellie fell quiet. Her heart beat slowed from the angry, quick pace it had been going at earlier. Again, she had much to think about. Unbidden memories of a tall blonde man with sharp green eyes and a fun smile filled her head. She'd tried so hard to push those memories away. At the time, he'd meant the world. But slowly, she'd seen him grow more and more jealous. He couldn't be beaten by a girl.

"I'm not sure I want to commit."

"I'm not sure Hawk can commit yet, to be honest." BJ shrugged. "He got hurt by someone a long time ago. I met her once. Nice girl, beautiful."

"I know the feeling," she admitted. Nellie leaned back in her chair and played with the pen in her lap. Then she sat up straighter. "Looks like your spot as number one isn't changing any time soon, BJ."

He just laughed.

"You've been trying to play matchmaker since I got here, so don't complain about losing your spot." Her eyes narrowed. "What are you planning, Hunnicutt?"

"Me? Nothing?" He smiled innocently. "I'm not playing matchmaker. What are you talking about?"

Nellie watched him skeptically. After a moment, she downed the glass of vodka and picked up her journal. She paid Rosie. Together they walked back to camp in silence, both deep in thought. She had a lot to digest.