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Chapter Text

It’s BJ’s birthday, and instead of spending it with him, Peg is sitting in a crowded theatre on a cool spring evening half a world away from him.

It’s the opening night of Singin’ in the Rain, and dinner and a movie is an old tradition of theirs, even if BJ can’t be here.

That’s enough for Peggy, enough that she doesn’t even care if the movie is terrible.

But when the lights go down, and the music starts, she’s enchanted.

From their first scene, Don and Cosmo make her think of her husband and Hawkeye Pierce, or at least, what she’s been able to construct of their relationship from BJ’s letters.

And there’s something about Cosmo Brown that feels familiar, right down to the impish gleam in his eyes.

Peg is captivated by the easy intimacy of the on-screen friends, by the playful banter concealing a deeper love, but doesn’t think much of it.

Until Kathy Selden shows up, and starts matching Don quip for quip, and Peggy’s heart skips a beat, because all she can see on the screen is herself and BJ.

It leaves her with a lump in her throat she can’t swallow, her eyes stinging with tears.

I miss you, she thinks, closing her eyes, and she’s not thinking of Gene Kelly.

She opens them again when the next musical number starts, Donald O’Connor leaping all around the screen, telling her to “make ‘em laugh,” and suddenly she gets why Cosmo feels familiar.

“Hawkeye,” she breathes, staring up at the screen, ignoring a dirty look from an older woman two seats over. “You’re Hawkeye.”

From what BJ’s told her, Hawkeye’s whole MO is to keep people laughing, although he clearly – if the party he helped organize is any clue – has something deeper underneath the prankster veneer. And maybe if people are laughing, they don’t look too closely.

And the impish gleam in Cosmo’s eyes is one she recognizes from the pictures she’s seen of Hawkeye Pierce.

But beyond the stray thoughts about her husband, and Hawkeye, Peg is content to just enjoy the movie.

Until.

Until the scene with the three of them, Cosmo and Kathy teasing Don in equal measures, bucking him up.

Until the song with the three of them arm in arm, holding hands, three points of a triangle.

And Peggy’s breath catches in her throat, watching the three of them laughing on the couch together, wanting so badly she hurts.

Then the unthinkable happens- Kathy kisses Don.

And then she turns around and kisses Cosmo.

Peggy thinks she gasps, her mouth falling open as she stares at the screen, because the way it happened- it was unconscious.

It’s a sweet scene, and judging by the fact that nobody else has made any noise, it’s unremarkable to everyone.

Everyone, that is, but her.

Because she is staring up at the screen and yet not seeing anything, her thoughts jumbled.

Kathy and Don. Don and Cosmo. Kathy and Cosmo.

All three of them, together, like it’s nothing special.

But to Peggy, it’s like the world has opened up.

She’s given herself worry lines thinking about how BJ, much as he loves her, is also so clearly in love with Hawkeye Pierce.

Hell, she likes Hawkeye well enough from the letters they've written each other, and could even love him given the chance.

But until now, she hasn’t let herself consider the possibility that BJ doesn’t have to choose – she’d never force him to, but all three of them wasn’t an option – and can just… be in love.

And Peggy, for all the worldliness she’s gained since moving out of Oklahoma, is still living in the year 1952.

And it won’t be easy.

And, and, and.

And it doesn’t matter, because now she knows there’s a chance.

Peg doesn’t remember much from the rest of Singin’ in the Rain.

There’s a fifteen-minute sequence of Gene Kelly showing off that she tunes out entirely, and a sweet ending, but Peggy has stars in her eyes.

She walks home, whistling one of the songs from the movie, stopping in at the neighbour’s to pick up Erin.

After she puts her to bed, she sits down, and writes to BJ, wanting nothing more than to share this discovery with him, ever mindful of the censors.

April 11, 1952

My darling,

Happy birthday! I know by the time you get this, your birthday will be long over, so consider this a belated present. Your real present is of course in the mail, and should be arriving around the time you turn thirty. I wish we could’ve been together, but instead you’ll have to hear about our celebration second-hand.

I went and saw this charming new musical- Singin’ in the Rain. It had Gene Kelly, Donald O’Connor, and a sweet new girl named Debbie Reynolds. I hope she sticks around a while, she seems a good egg- definitely held up her own against O’Connor and Kelly (I hope they weren’t too rough on her… I know how veterans get about rookie hazing)!

Darling, I don’t say this lightly, but you would’ve loved it. And you need to see it, somehow. Beg, borrow, steal, I don’t care. You need to see this picture. It’s imperative, darling. And I ask so little.

In response to your latest letter, I did end up fixing the car myself. I left Erin with the neighbour for a few hours, and managed to get it to stop making that funny knocking sound. I couldn’t bear bringing it in to the garage when I knew if I had the time, I could do it. That’s the good news. The bad is that regardless of the jam recipes and sage advice (why do we never hear of other herbal advice? Not enough thyme?) I am still burning it. I’m not sure what I’m doing wrong, but I’m on a first name basis with at least two firefighters.

Erin misses you. She’s been leaving little smudgy fingerprints all over your photo, which is now sitting beside her crib. She’s showing remarkable dexterity and grasping skills, she’s like a little monkey- and she enjoys grabbing my hair. If you don’t come home soon, I’m not sure I’ll have any hair left for you to enjoy.

I hope you had a good birthday, darling, and I only wish I’d been there to celebrate with you. I hope Hawkeye gave you your appropriate thumps, and the mess tent food was decent for once. Tell Hawkeye to buy you a drink for me, and I’ll pay him back after the war (be sure to tell him my credit is good). I love you so very much, darling, and I miss you. We both do.

Give my love to Hawkeye and Charles.

Love,

Peggy.

PS- Waggles chewed up one of your good shoes the other day. Do come home and scold him, won’t you?

Chapter Text

“Good morning, o maestros of medicine,” Max says, grinning as he walks in. “I bring you hymnals from the home front.”

“Odes to joy, no doubt,” Charles comments, not looking up from his book. “Anything for me, Corporal?”

“Nada, sir. Just a Crabapple Cove Courier for Hawkeye, and a letter for BJ- his wife, if my nose is any indication.”

“Who nose?” Hawkeye jokes, dodging the pillow BJ throws at him.

“Thanks, Klinger,” BJ says, and Hawkeye can’t help but grin to himself, watching him tearing open the envelope.

“I’ll be continuing on my appointed rounds,” Klinger says, before leaving.

A grin slowly spreads across BJ’s face as he reads his letter. “Aha, as I suspected. It’s my birthday card.”

“A couple weeks late, isn’t she?”

“Two weeks is pretty good turnaround for the army.” BJ’s grin only grows wider. “Says here she’s got a movie she thinks we should see.”

“Oh?”

“It’s called uh… Singin’ in the Rain.”

“Who’s in it?”

“Uh, Gene Kelly… a girl called Debbie Reynolds… and Donald O’Connor.”

Hawkeye pretends to be horror-struck. “Without Peggy Ryan?”

“Looks like it.”

“What’s it about?” he asks, leaning forward, clutching BJ’s thrown pillow to his chest like a teen girl at a slumber party.

“She doesn’t say, just that I absolutely have to see it. What are the odds of us getting that movie here?”

“Slim to none, unless it’s about VD.”

“Damn,” BJ slaps the letter down. “I hate to disappoint her.”

“Why’s it so important? I mean it’s just a movie, right?’

“I told you, she doesn’t say.”

“Bet she has a crush on Gene Kelly,” he jokes. “He’s got a big forehead, kinda like you.”

“I’m nothing like Gene Kelly.”

“You’re right, you’re not nearly enough of a show-off.”

“Besides, Peggy and I both prefer Donald O’Connor.”

Hawkeye grins.

“Does Mrs. Hunnicutt say anything about the plot, or only the players in it?” Charles asks, looking up. “Or is that confidential?”

“All I know is it’s a musical, and she wants me to see it, for some reason.”

“What else does she say?”

“Uh, let’s see… oh good, she got the car fixed.”

“The funny knocking sound?” Hawkeye asks, wracking his brain for what’s wrong with BJ’s car this time.

“Yeah.” BJ gets a dopey grin on his face. “Fixed it herself and everything.”

An indecent fantasy of Peggy Hunnicutt as a pin-up mechanic flashes into Hawkeye’s mind, making him flush, before he asks, “And Erin?”

“Apparently she’s grabbing hair now, and I should try and get home before Peggy has to be fitted for a wig.”

“You’re right,” Hawkeye says, reaching over and tugging on BJ’s mustache. “This is much more fun to grab.”

BJ swats his hand away, although he’s grinning. His smile is tinged with bittersweet nostalgia, and all Hawkeye wants is to stuff him in a mail bag and send him home.

Paradoxically, he wants to cling to BJ, wrap himself around him and never let go.

“If I write her back now,” BJ says, a bit humorlessly, “I should probably say happy anniversary.”

Hawkeye and Charles exchange a glance, and Hawk feels a guilty but pleased flush warming his cheeks, a small fire behind his ribs, because BJ is going to get an anniversary if Hawkeye has anything to say about it- and he does.

“Well don’t count your eggs before they’re laid,” Hawkeye says, cheerfully, unrolling his paper, pretending to scan his newspaper. “Huh. Apparently Crabapple Cove is experiencing a population boom.”

“New immigrants?” BJ enquires, setting down his letter, and Hawkeye is grateful to have distracted him.

“Nah. New rabbit warren.”

“I hate tourist season.” Hawkeye grins at the quip, as BJ stands up. “I’m going to lunch. You coming?”

“Yeah. Save me a seat?”

“Sure.”

Hawkeye waits until the door creaks shut before he tosses down the newspaper, and with it, his pretense of reading it. “Charles, I need a favor.”

“What.”

“I wanna do something nice for BJ.”

Charles sighs deeply, closing his book. “Pierce, did you forget I’m already loaning you my tape recorder for your anniversary schemes? What more could I possibly contribute?”

“Your secrecy.”

“Eh?”

“You can’t tell BJ what I’m up to.”

“Well that shouldn’t be a problem, because I have no idea what you’re up to.”

“I’m gonna get him that movie.”

“Oh? And how do you plan on doing that, Pierce?”

“How anyone gets anything around here.”

“Sex?” Charles asks, his mouth twitching at the irony.

“No. Klinger.”

“Whatever.” He picks his newspaper back up. “If you wish to grovel to that camel thief, it’s your funeral.”

“Charles, you’ve convinced me. Don’t tell BJ.”

“I shan’t, because I don’t care.”

Hawkeye cackles as he races out the door.

Only instead of heading towards where BJ is waiting in the mess tent, he jogs over to the office.

“Klinger!” he calls, opening the door. “I need a favor.”

“Those are never good words coming from you, Hawkeye,” Klinger says, hanging up the phone. “I’ve already told you, there’s no copy of the Anniversary Waltz to be had in Korea.”

“This is a different matter.”

“Oh?”

“I need you to get a movie.”

“Okay...”

“It’s new.”

Klinger’s face changes. “Not a chance.”

“Why not?”

“Do you know how hard it is to get anything released after 1945?” Klinger asks. “You might as well ask for the moon!”

“I don’t want the moon, I want a movie,” he says. “It’s for BJ.”

Klinger gives him a sideways look. “Captain, if you’ll pardon my saying so, a lot of your favors are for BJ.”

Hawkeye pastes on what he hopes is an innocent grin. “He’s my best friend.”

“Uh huh.” Klinger picks up the phone. “What’s the name of the movie?”

“Uh… Singin’ in the Rain.”

“How new is it?”

“A few weeks.”

“Swell,” Klinger mutters, holding up the receiver. “Hey, Sparky, can you connect me to that film distributor in Seoul? Yeah, uh… Phillips, that’s his name.”

Hawkeye doodles on the corner of one of Klinger’s forms, half-tuning out the phone call, too focused on the look Klinger gave him when he said it was for BJ.

BJ’s his best friend, why shouldn’t Hawk try and make his life a little more bearable?

“What’s the movie called again?” Klinger asks, jolting him from his reverie.

“Singin’ in the Rain.”

“Singin’ in the Rain,” Klinger repeats. “Yeah, Phillips, I know it’s new, but it’s… it’s for a friend. Yeah. A friend of a friend, really, it’s complicated.”

He listens for a second, and then shoots another sly glance in Hawkeye’s direction. “Yeah, I know. Wait, you’ll do it?”

Hawkeye sits up straighter. “For what?”

“For what? … Uh huh. Okay, thank you, sir. I’ll be sure to pass that message on. Just call as soon as you’ve got it. Ask for Corporal Klinger, MASH 4077. And Phillips? Thank you.”

Hawkeye waits with bated breath, until Klinger has set down the phone.

“You got your rain dance ready, Hawk?”

His heart skips a beat. “You’re kidding.”

“Nope, Phillips was very nice about it, said he’d be glad to pass it on as soon as it’s in.”

“But what about demand?”

“You’re the only one, so you get the supply.” Klinger grins. “Phillips is going soft, he said he’s retiring soon. But still, easiest trade I’ve ever made.”

“What did you trade for it?”

“You.”

“Huh?”

“His secretary needs a date to a party in Tokyo, so I volunteered you. I mean, you’re the one who wanted it, after all.”

“Thanks a lot Peg,” Hawkeye mutters, before remembering. “Hey, what was all that about?”

“What?”

“You said ‘you know’, but what do you know?”

“Well, after I explained the situation to him, he said you must love her very much. Only in this case, I’d guess the her is a him, and that him is BJ.”

“What?”

“Anyway,” Klinger says, ignoring Hawkeye’s bafflement. “He said he’d call as soon as it’s in. It’ll be a few months, and even then he’s pulling strings. Hawkeye?”

Hawkeye isn’t listening.

Only in this case, I’d guess the her is a him, and that him is BJ.

“Thanks, Klinger,” he says, absentmindedly. “Thanks.”

It isn’t that he hasn’t known, but this is the first time Hawkeye has had to confront the fact that maybe he does all these things for BJ not out of friendship… but love.

“Fuck.”

And still, he writes a letter to Peggy:

 

April 24, 1952

Dear Peg,

Anniversary plans are still going off without a hitch- I don’t think BJ suspects a thing, or if he does, he just thinks I’m being my usual self. Hope all is well on your end too, anniversary-wise. BJ was talking about it again today, and I could just see in his face how much he needs this.

In other news, your birthday greetings arrived today, and don’t tell BJ but given your favourable review of Singin’ in the Rain, I’ve set the wheels in motion to bring it to our humble little operating theatre. Hope you don’t think I’m raining on your parade by showing it to him before you can.

I hope you and Erin are holding up alright, and that the rest of the anniversary stuff works out. And Peggy? Thanks.

Yours,

Hawkeye.

PS- glad to hear you got the car fixed. BJ was keeping me up nights worrying about it. Love to you and Erin.

Chapter Text

It’s a rare cool night in early September, and BJ is sitting in a crowded mess tent doing a double act as a movie theatre, waiting for the show to start.

Hawkeye is practically bouncing in the seat beside him, eagerly awaiting the start of the movie, and shooting BJ sly looks every five seconds – not that BJ has any earthly idea why.

But after the stateside reunion and his anniversary present, he’s learned not to underestimate Hawkeye Pierce.

(He’s also learned that he loves him beyond all reason, but that’s the part he can’t say out loud).

“Did they say what the movie is tonight?” he asks, as someone passes a helmet full of popcorn. “Or are we supposed to guess?”

“We’re keeping you in suspenders," Hawkeye grins as he says it, tugging on one of BJ’s actual suspenders, laughing as BJ swats his hand away.

And then he hears the projector whir to life behind him, and Klinger’s call for someone to turn off the lights.

He soon forgets everything else, because when the movie starts…

“Hawk!” he whispers under the swell of the overture, grabbing Hawkeye’s arm so hard he must leave a mark. “Hawk, it’s-”

And Hawkeye, that crazy maniac with an impish gleam in his eye, just grins back. “Surprise.”

“Hawk-”

“Watch the movie,” Hawkeye says, pulling his arm from BJ’s grasp, grinning as he does.

His hand is resting next to BJ’s on the bench, and here in the darkness of the mess tent, even as BJ tries to focus on the movie, all he can think about is taking Hawkeye’s hand.

The movie is charming, but nothing especially remarkable at first glance.

At second glance, BJ gets it, in a way. Cosmo and Don remind him so painfully of himself and Hawkeye, of the friendship they’ve built on dust and blood, a friendship so deep that BJ feels he’s known him all his life.

Seeing the two of them onscreen, the chemistry between them, it almost makes BJ blush. Is this how the rest of the unit sees them?

He glances over at Hawkeye, to see if he’s enjoying the movie, only to find Hawkeye looking back at him.

His cheeks reddening, BJ turns back to the screen.

Between them, their fingers lace on the bench, like two kids sitting in the back of the theatre.

And BJ wonders not only about the unit, but if this is the reason Peg wanted him to see it, because she’s somehow picked up on the similarities-

Before he can follow that train of thought too far, he’s tugged back to reality with the arrival of Kathy Selden, likely the elusive Debbie Reynolds Peg mentioned in her letter.

Fierce, headstrong Kathy, trading barbs with Don in a way that makes BJ’s heart skip a beat and makes him feel guilty for sitting here holding Hawkeye’s hand when he should be doing this in a movie theatre at home, with Peggy.

But he also can’t let go now, he doesn’t know how.

He still doesn’t get it, doesn’t quite know who he’s supposed to be rooting for, Don and Cosmo the lifelong friends, or Don and Kathy, who clearly love each other.

He doesn’t know what Peg wants him to get about this movie- is it about a choice? Is that what’s waiting in the envelope back in the Swamp, the one marked “Open After Singin’ in the Rain?” A reminder that no matter what he wants, he cannot have it both ways?

And then.

And then instead of two sides of a triangle, Don and Kathy and Cosmo all team up, come up with a plan to save the show together, and BJ is starting to have an inkling of what Peg might be hinting at.

But it takes until Kathy kisses Don, and then kisses Cosmo right after for it to click, and when it does, BJ gasps, his hand squeezing Hawkeye’s in reflex, because-

It’s not a choice he has to make.

That’s the message, that’s what his marvelous, clever wife is telling him!

All three of them.

Arm in arm, he thinks, glancing down at where his and Hawkeye’s hands are joined with a swelling tenderness behind his ribs, and hand in hand.

“BJ?” Hawk whispers, leaning in. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he breathes back.

“Are you sure?”

BJ turns and looks at Hawkeye, and smiles. “Everything’s perfect.”

And it is, or at least it will be.

It’s his turn to be squirming in his seat, waiting for the movie to end, not nearly as invested in how it turns out as he should be, but he needs to talk to Hawkeye.

More importantly, he needs to know what’s in Peg’s envelope.

“Hawk,” he whispers, leaning in, “I’m gonna go to the latrine. I’ll meet you back at the swamp.”

“But the movie’s almost over!” Hawkeye whispers back.

“It can’t wait.”

“Fine.” Hawkeye relinquishes BJ’s hand with a half-hearted pout, but BJ’s sure his little white lie will be forgiven.

Once he’s out of the mess tent, he hurries back to the Swamp, digging through his footlocker for that little blue envelope, Peg’s good stationery.

When he finds it, he tears it open.

Her note is short and clever:

My darling-

I am just about to be brilliant.

It isn’t a choice, it’s a chance. So for both our sakes, take it.

All my love,

Peg.

“Yahoo!” BJ yelps, before kissing the note, once, and then again for good measure. “Oh, this is perfect!”

Peggy, his brilliant, clever wife, has figured it out, all without alerting the censors to her scheme.

“I married the smartest woman in the world,” he tells himself softly.

“Beej?”

“Hawk.” He whirls around to face him, unable to keep from grinning like a lunatic at the sight of his best friend. “Movie over?”

Hawkeye nods, and BJ wonders how much he’s cottoned on. “Yeah. Good news from home?”

“Yes.”

“I figured. Since you’re grinning like you just got your discharge papers.”

“It’s better than that.”

“Really…?”

“Hawk, I love you.”

He doesn’t plan to blurt it out quite like that, but he’s too distracted, too earnest, and he can’t stop himself.

Hawkeye stares at him. “… What?”

“I’m in love with you,” BJ says, his voice softer now. “You’re my best friend, and you’re the best thing I’ve got going for me over here, and I love you, Hawkeye Pierce.”

Hawkeye blinks – fuck, are his eyes wet? – but his voice is oddly flat. “You’ve got some pretty damn good things going for you over there too.”

“I know.”

“Then you know I care too much to let you throw that away for me-”

“I’m not going to,” he says. “Hawk.”

Hawkeye looks up, his eyes wide and wet, heartbreak and devotion wrestling for control of his features. “What?”

“Do you love me?”

“Of course!” Hawkeye freezes.

“You do?”

“Of course I do! You think I’d do half the crazy things I do if I didn’t? Yes. But we can’t-”

“Actually,” BJ says, his hand shaking as he passes the letter over. “I think we can.”

Hawkeye takes the letter, and reads it, and BJ waits, his heart pounding a tattoo against his ribs.

Hawkeye looks back up. “I don’t get it.”

“For a man so smart, you’re an idiot,” BJ says, his voice cracking dangerously. “How can I love someone so stupid?”

“The movie.”

“Hawkeye,” BJ says earnestly, stepping towards him, relieved when Hawkeye doesn’t move. “Hawkeye, think about it. Singin’ in the Rain. Did Don choose between Kathy and Cosmo?”

“No.”

“’It’s not a choice,’” BJ quotes Peg’s letter. “’It’s a chance.’ For all three of us.”

“All three of us?”

“All three of us,” BJ whispers. “You, and me…”

“And Peggy makes three?”

BJ nods.

“It’s not possible.”

“Hawkeye,” he says, before Hawkeye can protest further. “This isn’t me choosing between you and Peg. This is me asking you to choose me and Peg.”

“A package deal,” Hawkeye says, his mouth twitching, and BJ’s heart melts. “I buy you, I get the wife free?”

“Yes,” BJ breathes, cupping Hawkeye’s face in his hands. “So what do you say?”

“I love you,” Hawkeye says, and it’s answer enough.

“I love you, Hawk.”

BJ leans down and kisses him, Hawkeye’s breath warm against his mouth, his lips barely brushing Hawkeye’s.

It’s tentative and gentle, and so achingly sweet, Hawkeye leaning into the kiss.

When he pulls away, his eyes slowly opening, he stays close to Hawkeye, drowning in his eyes, their lips still so close. “Hawk?”

“I think we need to write to Peggy,” Hawkeye says, leaning into BJ.

“Are you okay?”

“Fit as a fiddle, and ready for love,” Hawkeye quips, and BJ has to kiss him again, darting in to taste his laughter.

And all he can do is hold him, and kiss him, and thank his lucky stars.