A/N: This was written for my 31 Days of Shipping prompt, A ship that makes you laugh. I know the premise of MASH is to talk about the war, but there always has to be a light.

Beta work was done by Grammarly. The only thing I own in this little tale is the plot.

Be sure to let me know what you think!

Love always,
~starr


It was the fifth straight day of meatball surgery, and Hawkeye was tired. He had been on his feet for twenty hours straight and running on maybe twenty minutes worth of sleep. It felt like every time he closed his eyes; the speaker announced that there was another chopper coming in. If he had to hear Radar's voice one more time, he was going to go insane.

Hawkeye stretched his arms over his head and let out a yawn. As tired as he was, Hawkeye wouldn't trade places with any of the boys that had been on his operating table. He hated the 4077, but he knew he was making some kind of a difference in the lives of the soldiers he saved and his companions at the camp.

He glanced around the operating room as he let out a sigh. His table sat empty, but he knew it wouldn't last long.

"Does anyone need any help?" Hawkeye called out, walking away from his table as he pulled his gloves off. He stopped just short of Frank Burns's table and stared at the open body for a few moments. He watched Frank fumble with the scalpel in his hands and gritted his teeth. "Is everything okay, Frank?"

"I'm fine, Pierce," Frank growled, glaring up at him for a split second before returning his attention back to his patient. "Go find someone else to bother."

"I'm just trying to help, Frank," Hawkeye replied, offering a smirk to Major Houlihan as she assisted Frank. "Margaret, is there anything I can do to help you?"

"Quit smirking at me," Margaret hissed, glancing up at him with a glare. She fought the urge she felt to roll her eyes when she noticed the giant smile on his face. "This is an operating room. It's a serious place!"

"I'm not smirking at you," Hawkeye laughed, shaking his head as he walked over to stand next to her, getting a better look at the operation Frank was performing. He noticed that it was going well, which for Frank was highly unusual.

"Well," Marget said with a huff. "Stop laughing at me."

"I'm not laughing," Hawkeye said, nudging her with his elbow. "At you, anyways. I can't say the same for Frank's version of meatball surgery."

"Pierce," Henry warned, glancing up from his own surgery. He shook his head when he noticed the large grin on Hawkeye's face and interrupted him before he could interject anything else. "Stop whatever it is you are doing to Frank and go make yourself useful."

As Hawkeye turned to triage, Trapper decided it was his turn to chime into the situation. "And make sure whatever it is you choose to do is done with a cheery disposition!"

Hawkeye tossed his head back with a laugh and nodded his head. "This is me with a cheery disposition," he teased, motioning to himself. "A ray of sunshine amid the bleakness of war! Don't put a cloud over my sunshine."

"Captain Pierce, please go find something to do and stop making a mockery of this situation," Margaret yelled, tossing her arms up in the air in frustration. She narrowed her eyes at him and fought the urge she felt to stick her tongue out at him for being so childish.

Hawkeye paused just shy of the door as a wicked grin pulled at the corners of his lips. Slowly he turned, leaning up against the door, and reached up to lower his mask. He pointed at Margaret and focused intently on her eyes. "Rain cloud! Stop trying to block my sunshine!"

"Pierce," Henry warned, watching as Hawkeye bowed his head and pushed back against the door, leaving the operating room. Henry shook his head, glancing around at the staff. "Everyone, get back to work."

Ten minutes later, Hawkeye returned to the operating room with a fresh patient being brought in behind him. "Father, say a prayer for this one."

"Absolutely," Father Mulcahy said, pulling his bible out of his robes and flipped to the middle of the book.

Hawkeye took a deep breath as he slipped his hands into the gloves being offered to him. He looked at the soldier on his table and shook his head. "They shouldn't be this young," he mumbled, glancing up at Margaret. "Margaret, I could use your help on this one."

"Of course, Captain," Margaret replied, nodding her head. She glanced up at Frank.

"Major," Frank whined, narrowing his eyes at her. "We're not done here."

"All you need to do is close up, Major Burns," she replied, wiping her hands off on a towel before pulling her gloves off. She motioned to another nurse to come to take her place. "Baker, I need new gloves, and then you can help Major Burns finish up."

"Yes, ma'am," Nurse Baker said, making quick work of getting the Major new gloves before taking her spot beside Major Burns.

Margaret took her place across the table from Hawkeye and offered him a scalpel. As arrogant and annoying as Pierce could be, Margaret would never deny he was a hell of a surgeon. He had saved boys that most doctors would have given up on long ago. She was lucky to be working so closely with him, no matter how infuriating she found him to be from time to time. The 4077 was lucky to have him.

Silence finally fell over the 4077 as the sun faded from the sky. The surgeons exited the operating room hungry, exhausted, and desperate for a stiff drink to help them forget everything they had seen over the last few days.

Hawkeye pushed open the door to the swamp and walked over to the still. "Hello gorgeous," he said, stroking the glass softly before reaching for two martini glasses. He glanced over his shoulder and nodded his head to Trapper. "Can I offer you a nightcap.?"

"You better make that a nightcap for four," Margaret laughed, walking into the swamp and taking a seat on Hawkeye's footlocker.

"Margaret, Henry," Hawkeye said, offering them each a glass with a smile on his face. "To a very long night."

"To a quick nod to the war," Trapper chimed in, raising his glass to the air before taking a long swig. He let out a hiss as the gin burned its way down his throat.

"Here, here," the rest of the doctors chimed in. They exhaled a sigh of relief, closing their eyes for the first time all day.

As their eyes flickered open, the door to the swamp swung open.

"I'm sorry to interrupt," Radar said, hanging his head. "Choppers."

"And so the battle rages on," Hawkeye chuckled, shaking his head.

"What happened to the ray of sunshine?" Trapper teased, patting Hawkeye on the shoulder.

"There's a rain cloud settling in," Hawkeye replied, laughing when Margaret's head snapped back to look at him. He replied with a wink as he ushered her out the door. "We've got work to do."

"You're infuriating," Margaret said, rolling her eyes.

"And yet you tolerate me anyways," Hawkeye replied, wrapping an arm around Margaret's waist and squeezed her tight.