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Angelo Greco - photo by Erik Tomasson
#Angelo Greco#Erik Tomasson#san francisco ballet#houston ballet#ballerino#dancer#danseur#bailarín#tänzer#boys of ballet#ballet men#dance#ballet
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Balanchine's Coppelia
In today's Times, Roslyn Sulcas has an article about the New York City Ballet's production of Coppelia, which celebrated its 50th anniversary this summer. It had its premiere at the Saratoga Performing Arts Center during the company's annual residency.
One thing that Sulcas fails to mention is that the role of Swanilda was originally supposed to have been shared by Patricia McBride and Gelsey Kirkland. But when Kirkland announced she was leaving the company, Balanchine gave all performances to McBride
‘Coppelia’ at 50: When City Ballet Took a Turn for ‘Fun and Funny’
Original cast members look back at George Balanchine and Alexandra Danilova’s staging of the 19th-century ballet. “Everyone knows when something is good,” one said.
By Roslyn Sulcas Sept. 23, 2024, 5:02 a.m. ET
George Balanchine’s decision to stage the 19th-century ballet “Coppelia,” in 1974, was a surprise. Although Balanchine, the co-founder and leader of New York City Ballet, occasionally created narrative ballets, like “The Nutcracker” and “A Midsummer Night’s Dream,” the company was identified with a lean, no-frills approach to classical dance. It was turned toward innovation and experimentation, rather than story, characters and elaborate costumes.
But the three-act “Coppelia,” with its lush, melodic Delibes score, fairy-tale set and extensive ensemble dances, was anything but experimental. City Ballet audiences were anticipating it “with a mixture of delight, incredulity and awe, and in some cases horror,” the critic Marcia B. Siegel wrote, shortly before the ballet’s July 17 premiere at the Saratoga Performing Arts Center in upstate New York. But Balanchine, who asked his Russian compatriot (and former romantic partner), the ballerina Alexandra Danilova, to assist him on staging the ballet, knew what he was doing. “Coppelia,” starring Patricia McBride as the heroine Swanilda, Helgi Tomasson as her swain Franz and Shaun O’Brien as the eccentric toymaker Doctor Coppelius, was a roaring success, and has been performed regularly ever since. This season’s performances—Sept. 27 to 29 and Oct. 5-6—are City Ballet’s 50th anniversary celebration of the ballet.
Above: Patricia McBride rehearsing Coppelia, 1974. Seated at left are Susan Hendl, who led the Waltz of the Golden Hours in Act 3 and Stephanie Saland, McBride's understudy, who also performed Swanilda. Standing, center: Lincoln Kirstein, Patricia McBride, George Balanchine. Leaning against the piano at right is Rosemary Dunleavy, the ballet mistress. Seated at right are Colleen Neary, who led the Discord & War divertissement in the third act, and Merrill Ashley, who danced the Dawn solo in the same act. Photo: Martha Swope via NYPL/NY Times
“Coppelia” was first choreographed by Arthur Saint-Léon for the Paris Opera Ballet in 1870, and then reworked by Marius Petipa in 1884 into the version we know today. The story is simple: Franz and Swanilda are happily affianced village sweethearts, until Franz falls for a pretty girl who turns out to be a life-size doll—the creation of Doctor Coppelius. By the end of the tale, which involves Swanilda impersonating the doll, Franz has learned a lesson about fantasy and Swanilda has secured her man. Cue wedding celebrations.
Balanchine asked Danilova, a famous Swanilda with a pitch-perfect memory of the Petipa version she had performed with the Ballets Russes de Monte Carlo, to set Acts I and II, although he added a few new dances. But Act III, omitted in many productions, is his alone, a series of divertissements that are a pure-dance coda to the story.
Megan Fairchild, who first performed Swanilda at 19, said she loved the character’s sassy personality. “It’s a more casual vibe,” she said. “She’s not a princess, and that resonates.”
“We do a lot of ballets that are sophisticated and intellectual, for highly developed dance watchers,” said Wendy Whelan, City Ballet’s associate artistic director. “This is lighthearted and warm and easy to watch. It’s a reminder of the beginnings of ballet: the storytelling, the classical dance, the pantomime.” Plus, Whelan added, “it’s fun and it’s funny.” In interviews, five original cast members talked about their memories of creating the ballet. Below are edited excerpts.
Above: Patricia McBride in Act I, 1975. Swanilda's friends in the background are Judith Fugate, unidentified, Delia Peters, and Debra Austin. Photo: Martha Swope via NYPL
Patricia McBride, Swanilda Madame Danilova’s memory was uncanny. She remembered every step for every character in the ballet, and she danced full out when she showed you the choreography. She wanted me to play it straight when I impersonated the doll, not for laughs, and she was very precise about the musicality and phrasing, and the intent of each step. We hadn’t done a lot of mime at City Ballet, but she was so clear, she made it easy to learn. I loved that beautiful Russian port de bras she had. You could see what a great Swanilda she had been.
Balanchine was very specific about the way I held my arms and body as the doll. He never spoke about characterization, or how he wanted it to look, but the musicality of the choreography was so natural and wonderful. He would show you the steps and it was done.
Madame Danilova and Balanchine would keep going all day long, moving from one scene to the next, talking together. It was like seeing history, the two of them in the room together. Mr. B never interfered with her staging. I think he really respected her knowledge and memory.
Sometimes I would feel quite choked up to think of their lives and history together. They were both in their 70s, but they had so much energy and vitality and love, and they had a lot of fun together. They were so young in spirit. I felt so fortunate to work with them, and to see their respect for each other and their love of dance.
Above: Helgi Tomasson in Act 3, Saratoga, 1974. Photo: Martha Swope via NYPL
Helgi Tomasson, Franz I was surprised and not surprised at Balanchine deciding to do “Coppelia.” He spoke about programming like creating a menu; he knew that he had to give the public varied dishes. And I think he loved those old Petipa pieces.
We were up in Saratoga when he started to choreograph my first-act variation. For some reason, he didn’t feel it was right. John Taras, the ballet master, was sitting next to him, and asked if I knew Balanchine’s “Sylvia” pas de deux, also to Delibes music. I had danced it with the Harkness Ballet, and Balanchine said, “Do you remember the variation? Let’s see it.” I did it, and he said, “Good, let’s keep that!”
For me, most of the dancing was in the third act. I loved the way Balanchine constructed the coda and how Patty and I came in and out of the group. He created speedy yet articulate steps that I think he felt suited me.
I remember that Patty and I did every performance of “Coppelia” in the first week, seven or eight in a row. At some point during that first week, I was so tired that in the scene where Franz is supposed to be asleep, I actually fell asleep. But the whole experience was a highlight of my career.
Above: Alexandra Danilova rehearsing Patricia McBride. Photo: Martha Swope via NYPL
Jean-Pierre Frohlich, Corps de Ballet I had been in the company two years and was just 19. I remember so well Balanchine and Danilova standing in front of the mirrors at the front of the studio. She was so elegant. I knew they had been an item in the Diaghilev era, and I was trying to see how those dynamics would have worked! You could see she still adored him.
Danilova loved to demonstrate steps. She wore ballet slippers with a little heel and ribbons. She had beautiful legs, and liked showing them off. She loved men; she was harder on the women than the men.
There was a very good ambience in the studio. They spoke in English, maybe occasionally in Russian, but I think they wanted the dancers to understand. She would never contradict him or say no to his suggestions. I felt she was very happy to be involved. But he was also very accommodating; he knew how much she had to offer.
Above: Gelsey Kirkland, originally scheduled to share the role of Swanilda with McBride, at rehearsal with ballet mistress Rosemary Dunleavy. Photo: Martha Swope via NYPL
Christine Redpath, Prayer Solo Madame Danilova was so charming. She would wear a gorgeous green sleeveless leotard, with a scoop neck and back, a belt and chiffon skirt, hiked up to show her fantastic legs, and her hair coifed with a little scarf tied behind her ears. You could see she still loved to dance, and it was very sweet to see she still loved Balanchine.
[In “Coppelia,” three allegorical female solos, Prayer, Dawn and Spinner, come near the start of Act III. ]
I learned my solo with Balanchine, but Madame Danilova was there because she had danced the Prayer solo in Russia. I think what he created on me was based on that. Balanchine never spoke about the meaning of the solo, but all the gestures are “up,” and the music seems spiritual to me. If you take what he has given you, it’s all there to tell you who you are and what this is.
At some point he showed me a picture of Marie Taglioni in a blue skirt and little top with puffed sleeves and a horseshoe crown with stars, and that’s what Karinska designed for my costume.
Danilova sent me a lovely card and flowers on the opening night. We were all very excited. Everyone knows when something is good.
Above: Merrill Ashley in the "Dawn" variation in Act 3. The costumes are the originals; they were replaced when the ballet was performed in New York the following year. Photo: Martha Swope via NYPL
Merrill Ashley, Dawn Solo The solo he made for me was fiendishly difficult, and it never became easier. There was fast footwork, lots of changes of direction and it ended in plié on pointe on one foot. I liked dancing it, but it scared me. There was one bit on a diagonal that was impossible, and it repeated three times. Eventually I said, I’m really struggling, would you consider changing it, and he said, “Dear, it’s yours, do what you want.”
Danilova choreographed the introduction to the solo, and that had more of a feeling of gentleness, awakening, offering something. Then the sun comes up over the horizon and, boom! Pyrotechnics!
You felt that Balanchine and Danilova were really friends and colleagues. He turned to her a lot; he really respected the knowledge and tradition she brought. I loved watching their interaction.
Above: Children from the School of American Ballet in Coppelia. The pink costumes replaced the golden ones used in Saratoga. Photo: Martha Swope via NYPL
Charlotte d’Amboise, Child Dancer David Richardson, a dancer in the company, was in charge of the kids, and to my twin sister and me he was God. We knew Balanchine was famous, but it was all about David. I was in the big dance in the last act, which I loved. We wore pink tutus and it was really dancey, and we had a whole section that was just us.
Balanchine really loved to have children involved and he could choreograph for them. He did it so easily, almost as if he didn’t think about it, just “go here, do this.” But he must have planned it.
At the first performance in Saratoga, one side of the elastic on my ballet slippers came off and was dangling while I was dancing. All I remember is thinking, David is seeing this—and he was so mad at me. I have never not paid attention to my shoes again!
I did pretty much all of the Balanchine ballets that had children in them, but “Coppelia” was my favorite. You felt like a ballerina, you had to have technique to dance it, and you felt like you were part of the corps de ballet. The best part of being a kid in these ballets was dancing next to these ballerinas and dancers who are goddesses and princes. To be surrounded by high art, to be part of it, affects you forever.
#Balanchine#Coppelia#Balanchine's Coppelia#Alexandra Danilova#Patricia McBride#Helgi Tomasson#Merrill Ashley#Christine Redpath#Jean-Pierre Frolich#Charlotte d'Amboise#Gelsey Kirkland#Saratoga Performing Arts Center#SPAC
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Dear footballing god...please let Rovers win this game and their next game please. Do you see Jon eyebags?! Don't you take a pitty on him? Thank you god ❤️
#manifesting hard for Rovers win 🤞🤞#blackburn rovers#jon dahl tomasson#i wanna see Jon in the Prem and competing with Jurgen#oohh him and Thomas Frank too! they can be Danish bestie!
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Since the 12th century, writers have been recording the history of Iceland. That literary history first took the form of sagas—rollicking, poetic accounts of Iceland’s earliest inhabitants and rulers that were composed centuries later by mostly unknown authors. Iceland’s initial independence—and the Icelandic Commonwealth that began when its Alþingi, or national legislature, was established in 930—ended in the late 13th century when it fell under Norwegian and eventually Danish rule. The stories its people composed and told each other of those early and relatively prosperous centuries were points of light in the darkness of the brutal colonial era that followed. The Little Ice Age, a catastrophic cooling of the North Atlantic region that caused crop failure, starvation and pandemics, and lasted for hundreds of years, decimated the population again and again. Resources were limited and scarce, and most families practiced subsistence farming in near solitude. “The very survival of this isolated people during the misery of the five centuries circa 1300-1800 has sometimes been attributed to the sustenance provided by their history, poetry and literature,” wrote sociologist and Iceland scholar Richard F. Tomasson in “The Literacy of the Icelanders,” a paper published in the journal Scandinavian Studies in 1975.
The sagas are particularly notable because they were written in the vernacular. “Icelanders’ dedication to writing—and reading—their own (hi)stories in their own language, even when they were an impoverished Danish colony in the hinterlands, is part of the reason the language flourishes today,” writes Larissa Kyzer, an Icelandic-to-English literary translator, in an email. Modern Icelandic is the living language closest to the Old Norse that Scandinavians spoke a thousand years ago, and an estimated 97 percent of Iceland’s population of around 370,000 people speak it as their mother tongue today.
After what scholars call Iceland’s “classical period,” or the early Middle Ages in which saga authors focused on early history and mythical tales of the Norse gods, literature began to reflect the growing influence of Christianity as well. Iceland adopted the religion by law in the year 1000. Missionaries began to teach Icelanders the Latin alphabet so they could proliferate religious texts in their own language, and the first book in Icelandic—a translation of the New Testament—was printed in 1540.
A healthy writing habit led to a culture of readers. Starting in the Middle Ages, Icelanders practiced something called the kvoldvaka (roughly, “night vigil”) in old farmsteads. During the long, dark, harsh winters, poor farmers huddled together in a single room in their turf houses to stay warm. “The kvoldvaka was the time between 6 and 10 p.m., roughly, when people would do their indoor work during the winter,” explains Alda Sigmundsdóttir, a writer and the founder of Little Books Publishing in Reykjavík. “They’d do their knitting, they’d make their tools, they’d work the wool—and during this session, there would be one person appointed to read to everyone else.”
In those evening hours, children learned to tell, recite and read stories (teaching children to read, in fact, was required by both the church and the government). As Tomasson noted in “The Literacy of the Icelanders,” by the end of the grueling 18th century—when a smallpox epidemic killed as much as a third of the population and a volcanic eruption that lasted for eight months killed another fifth of the population and most of the livestock—nearly every surviving Icelander could read.
— Iceland's Christmas Book Flood Is a Force of Nature
#lauren oster#history#languages#writing#education#literature#books#reading#children#authors#little ice age#iceland#norsemen#icelandic#old norse#alþingi#richard f. tomasson#larissa kyzer#alda sigmundsdóttir
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old man mormon yaoi if anyone still cares abt big love
trigger warnings in the tags 👇
#tw suicide#tw conversion therapy#edits#my edit#big love#big love hbo#alby grant#dale tomasson#hbo#hbo max#hbo original
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Blackburn Rovers Boss Identifies Key Reason Behind Sunderland Defeat
Blackburn Rovers manager Jon Dahl Tomasson believes that his team should have been ‘out of sight’ before Sunderland emerged victorious at Ewood Park last night. The two teams went into the tie locked on 10 points and Rovers started brightly as they looked to gain an early advantage. However, the deadlock was broken in the 28th minute when Ryan Hedges was adjudged to have fouled Black Cats’ winger…
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Patricia McBride and Helgi Tomasson in Dybbuk, 1974 ph. Martha Swope
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Blutreigen von Daniel Holbe, Ben Tomasson Buchkritik
Blutreigen von Daniel Holbe, Ben Tomasson Buchkritik
Mit “Blutreigen” gibt es einen neuen Sabine-Kaufmann-Krimi. Daniel Holbe hat sich erneut mit Ben Tomasson zusammengetan und das Ergebnis ist der fünfte Teil dieser Reihe. Ein eigenständiges Spin-Off der Julia-Durant-Reihe des verstorbenen Autors Andreas Franz, die von Daniel Holbe weitergeführt wird. Mit dabei ist auch Ralph Angersbach, der mit Kaufmann schon des öfteren ermittelt hat. Im Rahmen…
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John-Paul Simoens | San Francisco Ballet | Photo by Eric Tomasson
#john-paul simoens#balletphotography#ballet slippers#oregon ballet theatre#grey tights#san francisco ballet
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Jaime Francisco Diaz Gomez - photo by Erik Tomasson
#Jaime Francisco Diaz Gomez#Erik Tomasson#colombian ballet dancers#bailarín#danseur#dancer#ballerino#tänzer#boys of ballet#male dancers#ballet men#dance#ballet#jaime diaz
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“Principle dancers Joanna Berman and Yuri Possokhov dance the Second Movement of the world premiere of Helgi Tomasson's Criss-Cross at The Center for the Arts Yerba Buena Gardens.”
Photographed Michael Macor, 1997.
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Maria Kochetkova as Tatyana Larina and Pascal Molat as Prince Gremin, ballet "Onegin" choreography by John Cranko, based on the novel in verse "Eugene Onegin" by Aleksandr Pushkin, music by Pyotr Tchaikovsky and Kurt Heinz Stolze, set and costume by Santo Loquasto, San Francisco Ballet, War Memorial Opera House, San Francisco, California, USA
Photographer Erik Tomasson
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Blackburn Rovers and their awesome Eid content ❤️
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[CH.9] New Doctor on the Block
Chapter 9: Second Chance
Pairings: Hawkeye Pierce x fem!Reader
Characters: Hawkeye Pierce, B.J. Hunnicutt, Father Mulcahy
Summary: B.J. encourages Reader to talk to Hawkeye about how she really feels
Warnings: mentions of death, insecurity
Note: And that's it! The last chapter of the first installment! I hope you guys enjoyed this and stay tuned for book 2!
Series Masterlist - NDotB Masterlist - Two's Company Masterlist
“What happened to you?” B.J. asked, walking into the mess tent the next day for breakfast. “You look terrible.”
“I didn’t sleep last night,” you stared solemnly at your uneaten breakfast and coffee.
“That’s funny,” he said sitting down. “Neither did Hawkeye.”
“B.J. I’m not in the mood right now for any teasing,” you rubbed your temples and closed your eyes.
“Not teasing,” he said. “I’m serious, what’s going on with you two?”
“Maybe ask me later,” you mumbled, “Here take my food I’m not hungry,” you slid the plate over to him and got up to leave the tent when the door opened and Hawkeye stood in front of you.
You both stared at each other for a moment before you gathered your senses and stepped aside so he could pass. He did without much of a glance in your direction and you quickly scuttled out of the tent.
When Hawkeye came to sit at the table with B.J. and Father Mulcahy, who had since joined him, B.J. didn’t waste a second in interrogating his friend.
“What was that?” he asked.
“What was what?” Hawkeye picked at his powdered eggs and looked up tiredly at his friend and the priest who shared their table.
“I believe B.J. is referring to your interaction with Captain Tomasson,” Father Mulcahy interjected.
Good thing I’m not the only one concerned about this . B.J. thought to himself.
“It’s nothing,” Hawkeye said, placing a forkful of eggs in his mouth. “Just a very simple case of my actions coming back to haunt me. Now if you’ll excuse me,” he ate a couple more spoonfuls of breakfast before standing up. “I’m due in post-op.”
B.J. shook his head and sighed when Hawkeye left the table and turned to Father Mulcahy.
“Any ideas on what to do, Father?”
“None at the moment,” he shook his head. “Perhaps they both need some time and prayers. I know Hawkeye will come to talk to you about it.”
B.J. asked about you.
“That one you might have to corner, but give her some breathing room,” he suggested. “She should share when she’s ready.”
“What if she’s never ready?”
“That’s the million dollar question,” the Father sighed and B.J. ran a hand across his face, he had a feeling the next few days were about to suck more than they usually did.
—
As per B.J.’s assumption, the next few days were nothing short of hell. It was as if to you, Hawkeye had fallen off the face of the planet and Hawkeye was doing a pretty good job himself pretending you weren’t there when he wasn’t distracting himself with games, practical jokes, and booze.
The whole team could feel the shift, It had almost gotten to the point of affecting their work.
“Hey, what are you doing? You need to clamp that first,” B.J. remarked while he assisted you with a surgery.
“Oh, right, sorry,” you shook your head. “My head’s just not here.”
“Your head hasn’t been here for a while now,” he commented. “After our shift, we’ll take a walk. Just you and me and that’s not a suggestion.”
“Sure I can’t take a rain check?”
“You’ve been rain-checking me for over a week.”
“Alright,” you sighed. “Clamp, please.”
“Yes, doctor,” the nurse passed you the instructed tool and you managed to finish that patient with only a few minor hiccups.
There were still a few more wounded that needed to be tended to so you prepared to be an anesthesiologist for a bit while B.J. took the reins. You took one of the last patients and then washed up side by side with B.J. dreading your walk.
“You look like you’d rather be slicing open another soldier than out here with me right now,” he chuckled. “Am I really that bad?”
“No,” you shook your head, “but your questions are.”
“And what do you think I’m going to ask you?” he shoved his hands in his pockets as you trudged along the compound.
“About Ben,” you chewed your lip.
“Bingo,” he nodded and looked down at you. “What happened that night? I’ve tried asking but Hawkeye won’t talk to me either. You guys are my friends and this place is already lousy enough without you two not talking to each other.”
You stayed silent.
“So? Come on, spit it out.”
“He kissed me and I freaked out, okay?”
B.J. nodded his head. “Ah, I see.”
“What? That’s it? Just ‘ I see ’?” you asked.
“Well, why did you freak out?”
“I-I…It’s hard to explain,” you looked down at your feet.
“Try me,” he shrugged.
You thought about it for a minute, trying to see what words you could use for it to make sense.
“A terrible thought, but let’s say Peg passed away,” you started. “You have to take care of Erin, she’s your top priority and providing for her is the most important thing.”
B.J. nodded, following your train of thought.
“You’re heartbroken that Peg is gone, obviously, but over time your heart aches a little less, then a little less, then a little less, until finally, you think you start to feel something other than ache. But you can see right in front of you is that same situation that took Peg away from you in the first place. Would you risk it? Just because your heart felt something other than pain for a little while? Just because maybe, just maybe you thought she’d make you happy again?”
B.J. was thoughtful a moment before responding.
“I think I would risk it. And I’m not just saying that,” he assured you.
“Why?” you asked.
“Well, why don’t I put it this way,” he said, taking a turn in your seat. “If you could go back and change life so you wouldn’t have met your husband and wouldn’t have to go through losing him, would you do it?”
“No,” you didn’t hesitate to answer. “I wouldn’t trade the time I had with him for anything in the world.”
“So what you’re saying is if you love someone, or even think you could love someone, maybe the hurt is worth it because you’d still have whatever little time you were able to have together?”
You let out a shaky breath and chewed on your lip before admitting, “B.J. it scared the crap out of me. How the hell am I supposed to make up for that? He probably hates me now.”
“Why don’t you talk to him first and find out,” B.J. suggested. “Hawkeye Pierce is a stubborn man, set in his ways, but I don’t think I’ve seen someone more successful in getting him to change his mind. Unintentionally at that.”
You nodded your head slowly.
“Why don’t you go over to the swamp now? He should be there alone, Frank has post-op and I’ll stay out of your way for a while.”
“You sure Beej?” you asked. “We just pulled a long shift, you're probably exhausted.”
“I’m not as exhausted as I am hoping all this gets resolved. I’ll sit in the mess tent for a while and drink some coffee. Don’t worry about me too much.”
You nodded your head again and turned to go towards the swamp before turning around and tapping B.J. on the shoulder, causing him to look back and allow you to give him a hug.
“Thank you, B.J. You’re a good friend and I’m sorry I’ve been a bad one.”
“Don’t mention it, and you haven’t been a bad friend, just subpar,” he teased and you let out an airy chuckle.
He wished you luck before you turned off to go quickly get changed and head over to the swamp. It was late so you wore a pyjama shirt and pants and pulled a housecoat over yourself to keep warm from the slight breeze outside.
When you came to the door of the swamp you knocked three times on the door.
“Just a minute,” you heard Hawkeye inside. “Alright, come in.”
You opened the door and saw his back was turned to you, taking some laundry off a clothesline.
“Ben, can we talk?” you asked, stepping inside.
“Talk,” he nodded slowly. “We haven’t done that in a while.”
“No we haven’t,” you agreed. “C-Can I sit?” you asked, pointing to the stool.
“Please,” he nodded and sat across from you in his cot. “So what was so urgent you had to come and disturb my laundering?”
“I wanted to apologize,” you said simply. “For how cold I’ve been this past week, for…for the way I reacted that night.”
“Wasn’t exactly the standing ovation I was hoping for.”
You chuckled a little, nervously, and scratched the back of your neck.
“You were right, m-my worries and concerns didn’t have to do with my lack of faith in you. I think I was too caught up in my past to see what my future could look like.”
He raised a brow and you continued.
“And I think I like the look of it with you in it. I-If that’s still something you’d want,” you added quickly.
“What about all this fear of uncertainty? Unless I missed something we still can’t control everything that happens in this war otherwise I’d be in Maine and you’d be in New Hampshire.”
“A good friend made me realize that the time we have with someone, however short it might be, is still worth the hurt we might feel if it ends.”
“B.J.?” Hawkeye asked and you both laughed and nodded. “Yeah, that sounds like something B.J. would say.”
“Maybe we can start things out normally?” you suggested. “Set the scene, anywhere in the world.”
He thought about it for a moment before settling on, “Dover, New Hampshire. A bar off the corner of a street, near the hospital.”
You smiled and stood up to go and sit next to him.
“Hi, I saw you from across the bar.” You offered him your hand. “I’m a single mother of two, I work as a trauma surgeon in the ER at the hospital down the road. My husband died in the Korean War and I’ve been wondering if I’d ever get a second chance at what I had with him. I think you’re my second chance.”
Hawkeye smiled and took your hand. “Hi, I’m Ben Pierce,” he said, “and I’d love to be your second chance.”
“You sure? I’ve got a lot of baggage?” you joked.
“Don’t worry, I’ve got plenty of trunk space,” he assured you and you both laughed. “I’ll take you to the movies tomorrow and prove it.”
“You’ve got yourself a deal,” you agreed and shook on it.
You both stood up and Hawkeye walked you to the door, but before you left he asked you a question.
“Can I give you a kiss goodnight?”
“Why do you ask?”
“Oh no reason, just once a girl gave me a cup of tea and in return, I gave her a kiss and she freaked out on me. Just wanted to make sure,” he teased.
“I’m never gonna live that one down am I?”
“I dunno, let’s see how well you do with this one, then we can talk,” he took your face in his hands and you looked up at him with the first sparkle of hope in your eyes that you’d had since your husband died.
He leaned down and closed the space between you, your arms pressed against his chest.
When you pulled apart he looked at you with a cheeky smile on his lips,
“Now I’m really not going to be able to say no to lunch with your family when we get back.”
“Ben, you always know what to say, don’t you?”
“It’s a gift,” he shrugged.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” you stepped up on your toes and pecked his lips. “Your tip.”
He gave you a small peck back, “Your change. Goodnight.”
“Yeah, goodnight,” you smiled and stepped back, giving him a small wave before leaving the swamp and going to let B.J. know his tent was now danger free, but you were sure the lovesick smile on your face did more than your words ever could.
Tags: @montyfandomlove @robin-the-enby
#hawkeye pierce#hawkeye pierce x reader#hawkeye pierce fanfiction#mash#mashblr#mash fanfiction#hawkeye pierce x you
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