The mail brought her two letters, one from Molly and one from the staff of Johns Hopkins. Her mouth dried as she thought about opening the one from her friend. So Nellie stuck both in the corner of her drawer and only after dinner did she consider opening them.

Just as she went to open the one from her former colleagues, a knock interrupted her. "Come in!" She turned to see who it was.

Hawkeye, BJ, and Klinger all stood at the door. The foremost bowed dramatically. Behind them she could see dark clouds covering the sky.

"Mademoiselle, we have come to ask you to the beautiful home of the surgeons for a drink and a good time." 

Nellie smirked. "Oh? What for."

"Are we so uncouth that it would seem unlikely that we'd desire the presence of a beautiful young woman?"

"Uncouth?" Klinger looked between them in confusion.

BJ turned to him. "Lacking good manners."

"Ah."

"Hm," Nellie mused. Before she responded, she pulled on her fatigue button down over her tank top. Just in case rain hit. "Right then, lead the way."

Camp seemed deserted. Dinner had ended half an hour before, and the Mess Tent emptied. Thanks to the rain clouds, not much light lit the camp. Only the lamplight helped. Her watch read 21:00 hours.

Charles penned a letter as they entered the Swamp. He only looked up once at their entrance. "Ah, Major. Happy birthday."

"Thank you."

"Well if your little soirré is beginning, then so too does my shift in Post Op." He stood and nodded to Nellie. "Major."

She smiled back and waved, taking a seat on the end of Hawkeye's bunk. The others took their own seats. Hawkeye sat himself on the other part of his cot while Klinger took the chair and BJ his own bed. 

"You really are uncouth if you don't pour me a drink." Nellie turned to Hawkeye as he handed one to BJ. 

"Why do people have to use big words like that! Here, pass that to me." Klinger grabbed a drink and handed it to Nellie. He then took one for himself. 

Nellie downed a big drink. She coughed, scrunching her face up in disgust. "Wow." Holding it out, Hawkeye refilled it.

"We aged it well," said BJ.

"Well might not be the word I would use. This could murder someone if you aren't careful." 

Hawkeye laughed at her. "And yet you drink."

This time, the laugh came from Klinger. For several hours, they sat and played poker. At one point, Hawkeye pulled out the checkerboard and 
Set up little glasses of gin instead of pieces. At that point, Klinger had to leave, thoroughly buzzed and beyond exhausted. 

At two in the morning, BJ and Hawkeye were in the final round of their three person tournament of drinking checkers. To Hawk's right, Nellie had fallen asleep on his cot. 

"Crown me!" Hawkeye downed the cup and had BJ refill it. Then they stuck an olive inside.

BJ huffed. "You're better at this than chess."

"Fool, I was born to win this game." He rubbed his hands together. "Trap and I played all the time."

A pause hung in the air. Pieces traded places and the game continued on. After BJ made a move, he drummed on his knees. Then he gestured next to Hawkeye.

"So. Are you two…"

They both turned towards Nellie's sleeping form. Her chest rose and fell where she'd curled up planning to watch the game, but instead fell asleep. Hawkeye shrugged.

"My good fellow, the pursuit is half the game!"

"Game?" BJ's smirk grew as he stuck his toothpick back in his mouth. He jumped two of Hawkeye's pieces. "So that's what she is?"

"Focus on your pieces, Beej. This is the game."

"Right."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing!"

"Nothing. Right." Hawkeye drummed his fingers on his knee. He moved one of his drink pieces. "Of course it's nothing!"

BJ shrugged. "Just because you look at her like I used to look at Peg-"

"I hear what you're implying and I deny it. Forcefully."

Another two of Hawkeye's pieces got swallowed up by his jump. BJ smirked at him. "Focus on the game, Hawk."

"I'm strictly a one night man," Hawkeye added. "Maybe a second if she's good."

"Of course, of course. I'm sorry."

"Yeah."

"So why have you only been flirting with her and not the rest of camp?"

Hawkeye put his martini glass down and glared at him. "Listen, fella. I don't need you playing matchmaker. I need you to make your next move!"

"Hawk."

"What?"

"It's your turn."

The board was almost empty of his pieces. Somehow BJ had managed to crown most of his own glasses, and eradicate the rest of his. Hawkeye couldn't hide his surprise. After a moment, he moved one glass to the left.

"I can flirt however and with whoever I want. Sorry if you feel left out these days," Hawkeye bit back.

BJ just chuckled. "So whoever is Nellie, then."

"Yes. Because she's fun to annoy."

"And you get good kisses out of it and maybe more. You're both just afraid of commitment." BJ watched as Hawkeye drew himself up. Taking one of his crowned gin glasses, he jumped two of Hawk's remaining three pieces. "Checkmate."

"Wrong game, genius."

"I didn't mean the board."

Hawkeye stared across their board. His stupid smirk beneath his stupid mustache further irritated him. Moments later, the game was over as BJ finished him off. 

"She's out like a light," BJ commented.

Hawkeye gave a short laugh. "We filled her with enough gin, that's for sure."

Suddenly they saw the light in Klinger's office go on. Hawkeye looked at BJ. When Klinger himself marched across the compound in a pink fluffy nightgown, yawning and muttering to himself, they just chuckled. Hawkeye stood from the cot and wandered to the window. 

"Should we just leave her there?" Hawkeye turned back when Klinger entered the Colonel's tent.

"People might talk."

With a laugh, Hawkeye just shrugged. "When does she not inspire rumors already?"

"Fair point." Then BJ smirked at him. "And I don't think you have the heart to wake her up."

The glare Hawkeye sent him made BJ laugh. But Hawk didn't respond beyond that. So he just resigned himself to giving Nellie his bunk and taking the spare for himself. Moments later, when Charles walked in, they forced him to be quiet and accept the sleepover. No one stirred the rest of the night.

When Nellie pulled herself to consciousness, the pounding in her head reminded her everything she needed to know about the previous night. They'd had a mini birthday party for her. She'd played some poker, lost about ten dollars, and then lost again at the Drunk Checkers. But what did surprise her was that she woke up not in her quarters, but in the Swamp.

Across from her, Hawkeye slept with his arm over his eyes. She realized she'd taken his cot, and heat flushed her cheeks. Still, unlike college, she realized she felt no threat from these men. BJ was gone, probably in Post Op, if she remembered the schedule correctly. But Charles's red satin pillow lay very much occupied.

A groan escaped her as she sat up and looked outside. Damn the sun. The puddles from last night's rain had mostly dried, except for a few here and there. Nellie stood and grabbed her forehead, wobbling slightly. The room spun to the left for a moment. 

With a hiss, she stumbled to the door. At the same moment, Klinger rapped on it. Nellie groaned as he opened the door, holding her head like it was going to fall off.

"Major!" 

"Corporal if you say something loud one more time I will personally put you on report."

"Yes oh wrathful, hungover one." He lowered his voice. "Colonel wants Hawkeye in his office."

"Why?"

"Something about leaving him in charge? He called a chopper to Kimpo to go to Tokyo General. Or that's what I think I remember from my booze filled sleep walking."

"Right."

"Did you have fun, Major?" He winked. "Hawkeye looks beat."

"If by fun you mean I drank too much, lost money, and then slept till dawn, then yes. If by fun you mean extra fun, then the answer is no, and I suggest you get your head out of the gutter."

"Yes sir! Ma'am."

Nellie pushed past him, leaving Klinger to wake Hawkeye up. Nurses Betty Garlem and Shelley Lacey waved at her on their way to the showers. Though she returned the favor, all she could think of was changing and then grabbing a cup of coffee.

Her stomach tossed too much for food as she entered the Mess tent that morning. Bypassing the line, Nellie went straight for the coffee machine. The incessant chatter of the tent hurt her head immensely. She took up a spot at their regular table, the first one to do so.

"Good morning!" Mulcahy's voice echoed in her ears as he sat down moments later.

Nellie whipped out her hand, stopping him. Instead she took a long, deep drink of coffee. Today's batched tasted off even more than usual, but she needed the caffeine. It scalded the roof of her mouth. Finally, she nodded. "Sorry, Father."

He just smiled. "No apologies necessary, Major. Klinger told me you four were going to celebrate your birthday yesterday. If I had more of a stomach for anything but sacramental wine, I might have joined you!"

"Their gin is awful."

"And yet, people still drink it. Strange, isn't it?"

Nellie hummed in agreement. Another gulp of coffee down, still no less pained by her headache. "Say a prayer for my head, Father. It might fall right off."

Father Mulcahy laughed quietly. "Always. Just don't make getting this drunk a habit."

"I doubt she plans on becoming a nun."

They both looked up as BJ joined them. He still wore his white lab coat, a pencil in the right pocket. As Father Mulcahy laughed at BJ's joke, she just continued sipping on the drink.

"How'd you sleep," he asked.

Nellie snorted, putting her mug down. "You two didn't have the courage to wake me?"

"Hawkeye didn't have the heart." At Father's questioning look, he continued. "She fell asleep during our Drunk Checkers game and Hawkeye had to forfeit his cot."

"Can't wait for the newest rumors to spread."

BJ laughed. "You certainly do have a gift for creating conversation."

"How are you not hungover?"

"I guess I just hold my liquor better."

"Not true, but you can tell yourself that."

Father Mulcahy waved to someone across the Mess Tent. At the sight of blonde hair, they waited for Margaret to reach them. Unlike Nellie, her hair was perfectly set, curled at the bottom neatly.

"Good morning."

Nellie muttered into her mug. "Debatable." 

But Margaret didn't seem to catch her snark. As the table descended into discussion about Potter's sudden departure, Nellie closed her eyes. One drink, two, her head slowly began to recover. She hated hangovers.