The morning dawned warmer than the past few days. As Nellie pulled herself from sleep, she heard a group of nurses talking outside her tent. It sounded like Bigelow and Lacey, but she couldn't make out what was being said. With practiced ease, Nellie pulled on her fatigues.

By the time she left her tent, Bigelow and Lacey had wandered off. Roy Goldman shot a basketball while Klinger and Zale stood by. She passed them by with a quick nod hello. Her stomach growled, so she went straight to the Mess Tent.

The whole medical staff sat eating when she had her food. Nellie slipped in beside Margaret. "Good morning."

"Not for him it's not." Hawkeye gestured with his fork to the Colonel.

Nellie frowned. "What's the matter?"

"Mumps and mumpettes have invaded his greatness."

"Oh no."

Margaret stood from the table. With a steady hand, she moved Potter out of his chair. "Let me help you to your tent, sir."

"I better warn you, Major, I get a might crotchety when I'm battling a bug. And I make one ornery patient."

"Well, I make one ornery nurse."

As they left, Nellie dug into her food. The powdered eggs somehow tasted less horrible than usual, and the milk wasn't half bad. 

"We've got lots of wounded on the way," BJ told her. "Hill 403 again."

"Again?"

"They've gotta make a mountain of casualties out of a molehill. It's in their quota."

She huffed in agreement at Hawkeye's bitter joke. But then she frowned. "And now we're down a surgeon."

"Our faithful scrounger is doing his utmost to find us a replacement," said Charles. "Not that his utmost is much at all."

"Don't pick on Klinger."

"My dear, he is hardly worth defending-"

"Listen, Major. Klinger works as hard as any one of us, you included." Nellie put her fork down and glared his way. "Just because his way of working involves less surgery and more silk tongue doesn't make him any less important than me, or you for that matter. And don't even try a rebuttal. More pompous men than you have failed."

"I was done anyways."

BJ and Hawkeye laughed as Charles got up from the table, straightened himself, and took his tray to the garbage. The two other surgeons just smirked and watched him leave. 

"Watch it Charles. Those mumpettes are coming for you!" Hawkeye called after him.

"He's never had them?"

BJ shook his head. "Nope."

They finished up breakfast. As more people filled the mess tent, they left and went to play horseshoes. Wounded were expected by the end of the day, and the waiting made everyone antsy. Hawkeye and Nellie didn't even speak about the prospect of the agreed upon date. 

They'd been without wounded for half a week. She'd been starting to get used to it. Now the thought of the bleeding, broken bodies made a pit form in the deepest recesses of her stomach. Plus, if Klinger couldn't find them a surgeon, they'd be short handed.

"Major, Captains."

As Hawkeye grumbled over his most recent poor shot, Kellye came over. The deep frown she didn't even try to hide made them all turn serious instantly.

Hawkeye folded his arms. "What's up?"

"Three more nurses have the mumps. We're down to eight healthy. The VIP tent is full now."

"It's already almost noon," said BJ. He stroked his mustache. "Wounded should be here in another five hours. If they keep dropping like flies…"

"Sheesh." 

Kellye nodded. "I'll go check on them again, see if they need anything else." She left them just as depressed as she'd come.

"I bring good news, oh great and powerful swamp rats."

They all turned. Klinger had a smile on his face and all but slipped over to them. The door to the hospital crashed closed behind him. Nellie just smiled back.

"Watch your language, heathen," Hawkeye replied. "To call your faithful leader in times of struggle a rat is dangerously close to insubordination."

"Guess you'll have to sign those discharge papers for me then, captain."

Nellie laughed. "The news, Klinger?"

"I have acquired us a new cutter. He should be here in less than an hour."

"Hey! Great! Let's go to the Swamp and celebrate like rats."

Hawkeye led the way to their tent. When he opened the door, they found Charles moaning in bed. Nellie had to suppress a smirk. But Hawkeye didn't hold back.

"Hey, Beej, did you order us a new cow?"

"Chuck, do you have the mumps?" 

Klinger shouted in fear and scurried out of the tent. But Nellie and the other two surgeons just stared down at Charles with contempt. BJ told her to hang in the Swamp as they moved him to the Colonel's tent. With much objecting, they did so.

Her heart began to race again, as she stood alone in the Swamp. The camp felt deserted with the mumps epidemic putting half the staff in confinement, and the other half in hiding. She reached for a martini glass. Her hand shook. But it didn't stop her from pouring herself a glass of their gin.

Her throat tightened at the gulp and she hacked out a cough. Their stuff tasted truly awful. But the warmth that filled her body easily forgave the tang. Nellie sat herself down on Hawkeye's bunk. A few odds and ends lay about including a toothpick, a random sock, and a small stack of letters. 

After a good ten minutes of sipping the gin, BJ and Hawkeye strolled back in. The latter walked to the Still. "I see you found the fountain of youth."

A laugh escaped her before she had a chance to think. She raised her glass. "To your fountain of youth."

"That I'll drink to," said BJ. "Pass the glass, Hawk."

"Aye, captain."

Nellie relinquished her spot on his cot, and moved to the extra one. For the next half hour, she listened to the gentle banter between the other two surgeons. Over and over her thoughts drifted to the incoming wounded. The way their blood oozed from their wounds, the clammy skin, bloodshot eyes, the screams and groans and hasty prayers… 

"Your accommodations, complete with cellmates."

Nellie looked up. Klinger opened the Swamp door and brought in a newcomer. He stood as tall as BJ and Hawkeye, with medium brown hair and round glasses. It made her pause. She swore she recognized him from somewhere.

"Gentlemen, I give you Dr. Newsome."

"Hey! That was fast. I'm Hawkeye, he's BJ."

"That's catchy, I'm just plain-"

"Steve!" Realization dawned on Nellie as she heard his last name. Standing, she moved her way to stand next to BJ. "You went to Johns Hopkins, right? Nellie O'Hara."

"Ah yes! One half of the legendary feminine dynamic duo." He nodded and smiled. "I remember you. Didn't know they were drafting women, now."

"They're not. I volunteered."

Steve shook his head. "No accounting for taste.'

BJ laughed. He turned to Klinger. "How'd you get him here so fast?"

"That's a secret. If he asks you where the beach is, change the subject."

As Klinger ducked out of the Swamp, drinks were poured for all of them. Nellie took a new one from BJ. Glad for the drink, she went back to sit on the extra cot.

"This is quite a lovely spot you have here." Steve looked around. Gesturing to the Still, he nodded his approval.

"It's not much, but we like to call it hell."

"We just came for a weekend."

"Now we may never leave."

"You're probably here on the American plan."

Smiles all around. Hawkeye took a drink and then gestured to Steve. "Now, see here, Newsome, that remark shows a complete lack of respect for this man's army and all that it stands for. And I resent the fact that you beat me to it."

They talked for a few minutes. Steve told them he was stationed at H.Q. in Tokyo. For the past two days he'd been at a seminar in Seoul. When Klinger had called, he'd been the one available. Hawkeye and BJ made a few jokes about him being in such a cushy job. But Nellie didn't miss how his smile faltered, and he quieted down. As fast as he'd let his guard down, he'd forced the smile back up.

Then the call went up.

"Attention! Choppers. Don't think it's presents from home!"

The pit in her stomach consumed her entire chest. Nellie downed the rest of her martini glass as BJ and Hawkeye led Steve out of the Swamp. Quickly, she followed. BJ took a team to the chopper pad, and Hawkeye sent Nellie with Steve to get him scrubbed.

"This way." She had to jump out of the way as a pair of ambulances careened into the compound. It took great effort to tear herself away from the mania and head inside. But she did.

Nellie showed Steve the men's changing room. Crossing into the women's side, she nearly bumped into Kellye. She, Shelley, and Bigelow stood changing. Margaret left them to scrub. The butterflies in her stomach quieted. Pull off the fatigues, pull on the white scrubs. Her hair went under her scalp cap. She tied on the bottom part of her surgical mask.

When she pushed into the scrub room, Steve was using the left sink. His movements seemed practiced. Nellie watched him briefly before she started on her routine. Their paths had crossed a few times at Johns Hopkins, mostly because one of his friends had been Molly's ex-boyfriend. Steve had always been a funny guy, prone to jokes and light humor. He'd been a year ahead of them. At parties, he'd be the first one to volunteer to go grab drinks.

They'd only talked in depth a few times. Her opinion of him remained rather high, as he never seemed against her presence at the medical school. Any male surgeon who didn't look down on her stayed high in her books. But as she watched him scrub, his smile bothered her. She remembered his smile. It'd been warm, goofy. This smile was anything but. His hands shook ever so slightly under the rushing water.

But then, so did hers. Nellie focused on herself. Up, down, up, down, up, down, rinse. The soap lathered all the way up nearly to her shoulders. Once the washing ended, she used two fingers to grab a sterilized towel and pat dry her arms. Bigelow fastened the top of her mask and helped pull on her top scrubs. With a deep breath, Nellie followed Steve into the OR. Behind them, Hawkeye and BJ were finishing up.

"I need gloves!"

With a snap, Gwen put them on. Her emotions calmed. She knew this. This was normal. She'd been here a month. This was normal. 

Nellie took her place at the table. As she looked down at her first patient, the sound of surgical gloves being stretched and snapped onto someone's hands jolted her attention up. Steve took his own place. The shaking of his hands didn't stop until a scalpel lay between his fingers. Nellie turned back to her patient.

"Scalpel."