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Chapter 5 - A Kinda Sorta Magic

Writer's note: While the MASH episode, 'Change Of Command', has Colonel Potter arriving around September 15, 1952, my stories' timeline has that happening in February of that same year. This chapter is set directly after the events of 'Fallen Idol'.

M*A*S*H* 4077th, September 1, 1952

Hawkeye lowered his hand, while Radar stared. Pierce shrugged, wondering why.

"What? Have I picked up a second head, along with my cholera?"

Radar shrugged his own shrug.

"Its still odd, is all, Captain. Two years here, and I've hardly ever seen you salute anybody. Not the Colonels, or the Generals--heck, the only other time I seen you do it outside something big is when that nurse lost her towel in the compound. Ya know, since I never got to those geisha ladies--can I ask ya somethin' about her?"

Hawkeye smiled, more at the memory of those times than any towel-lost nurse.

"I'm not good with casual descriptions, Radar. She ended up with Trapper, anyway. I didn't really see much of her."

Radar nodded.

"Me neither. She was like a blur. But--nowadays, in camp, its like everybody's seen everybody's business. Nurses who used to scream if I saw their socks now just lie around in their tent, waitin' on the mail, and some of them got hardly nothin' on--some less than that. Me, too. I'm not anxious to show, ya know, but-uh I'm not so jumpy as to who might come in the office no more. But her--that nurse in the compound--her I remember. Why is all that?"

Pierce had a simple answer.

"Ok--lets say you walk into the nurses' shower."

"Uh-uh. Casual or no casual, they'd cut my head off--or somethin'."

Radar then shook and wondered why he had phrased it that way.

"No, no--this is just pretend. Now, you go in, and nobody opens fire."

"That's a pretty big pretend."

Hawkeye looked up wistfully.

"Tell me about it. But, you go in, you open the stall--what do you see?"

"A spray of hot water in my face?"

"When did we get hot water?"

"Hawkeye---"

"Ok. We're still pretending. What do you see?"

"A-a naked nurse?"

"Riiight. Now, you may like what you see--but did you expect to see it? Again, pretending."

"Well---sure I expect it. I mean, that's where you would see that kind of thing, in a pretend world, right?"

"Very good. Now, do you expect to see a nurse like that---in the compound?"

"Can I pretend some more? Oh, wait--I get it---we weren't expecting to see her, so what we saw stayed with us more. Wow---maybe those burlesque places oughta tell those girls to just run by and--that's not a very good idea, is it?"

"Point is, Radar, is that the unexpected is what gets you. Be it a shapely behind or my drunken stupidity right before surgery--its always the unexpected. Now, how's about something predictable? Let me check that wound."

Radar nodded.

"Predictable is soundin' really good to me about now, Captain. Check away!"

Hawkeye took a quick peek under Walter's bandages. His jaw dropped.

"Hey, is somethin' wrong?"

"Er, uh--Radar, I just need to take a little blood."

"I KNEW it! There's somethin' wrong."

"No--there's nothing wrong. That's what wrong. Here, I'm just gonna scrape your hand."

"Not too much, now--owwwww!!!"

In Post-Op, Colonel Potter heard Radar's yelp, and went to investigate. He saw Hawkeye re-scraping Walter's hand.

"Uh-Pierce? I thought you and the lad had made up? Don't make your Old Colonel send you to the corner!"

Radar sat with a blank, stunned look on his face. Pierce was not too much better.

"Colonel--I think you better see this."

Without checking first, Hawkeye pulled the bandages straight off of Radar's chest. Potter stood and shook his head. Not only did the wounds not reopen, but they were gone entirely--with no evidence that they were ever there.

"Pierce---do you remember a medic name of Duncan Burns? Well, Burns wasn't his name--it was...."

Hawkeye completed the words.

"It was Macleod. I know. I worked for his cousin Connor back in my med school days. You first met Duncan in World War One, didn't you?"

Potter was just staring at the lost soul that was once Walter O'Reilly.

"Sure did. Killed a German officer. With a sword. Cut his head clean off. Then, this storm came around, and nearly fried me."

Hawkeye saw that Radar was completely out of it.

"Yeah--its called a Quickening. Instant Fourth Of July. Boy, Radar's really gone, isn't he? Normally, I'd have you call Sidney, but...."

"Pierce?"

"Uh-huh?"

"Call Sidney anyway."

Hawkeye looked over in amazement.

"Our shrink? Geez, talk about antique couches! Puts a whole new spin on his letters to Sigmund Freud. Any other surprises?"

"Just one--but not the same one--call Father Mulcahy, too. The Padre has access to some info we might need. He's a Watcher---no cracks, please."

Hawkeye just couldn't stop looking at the badly shaken Radar.

"No cracks come to mind, here and now, Colonel."