Love Thy Neighbor

"Sinners!" Ruth Kopperman yelled at them from across the street as they got out of their car and headed toward the house.

Erin looked up at B.J. "What does she mean, Daddy?"

B.J. shot a quick look over at Hawkeye, then focused on Erin. "Nothing, honey. Don't worry about it."

"Sinners!" came the cry again, this time louder, just in case they hadn't heard the first time.

Erin whipped her head around to look across the street. She seemed more than confused… she seemed maybe a little frightened. B.J. rubbed her back, gently leading her toward the house. "Just ignore her, honey."

Hawkeye added, "She doesn't know us very well, Erin. She's making judgments. People shouldn't do that."

As B.J. unlocked the front door for them, Erin said, "She should get to know us then. I bet she'd like us."

Hawkeye and B.J. exchanged smiles. If only adults could see things as simply as kids did…

Hawkeye was walking back down the street after mailing a letter when Ruth Kopperman stepped out of her house to water the tulips in her front garden. When she caught sight of Hawkeye, her posture turned rigid, her mild expression turned dark. She said nothing to him, but she glared from her front yard.

Hawkeye thought, Make some conversation… what the hell could it hurt? Maybe she'd relax a little if they actually tried speaking civilly to each other.

"Hello, Mrs. Kopperman," he said with a smile and a wave. "How are you doing today?"

She held up her watering can as if to ward him off with it. "Leviticus 18:22!" she barked. "Look it up sometime, doctor."

Hawkeye shook his head and continued on to his house. Well, I tried, he thought. Apparently there was no talking to some people. Intolerance was alive and well in Mill Valley, and clearly California wasn't as progressive as he liked to think it was.

One thing was for sure: he didn't need to look up Leviticus 18:22. This wasn't the first time somebody'd mentioned that verse to him. The idea that God cared about his sex life was kind of amusing to him.

Just before reaching his front door, he turned to see Mrs. Kopperman no longer paying him any mind, her back to him as she watered her tulips.

"Think whatever you want about us, I don't care," he muttered as he opened the door. "Just stop scaring our little girl, you old bat."

"I took a shot at trying to engage Mrs. Kopperman in conversation earlier today," Hawkeye said as he stepped out of his boxers and crawled into bed next to B.J.

"I'll bet that went well," B.J. snickered, stroking Hawkeye's forearm.

"She quoted scripture at me."

B.J. gave a laugh. "Why does that not surprise me?"

Hawkeye leaned in for a soft, brief brush of lips. "I don't get it, Beej. Why do you suppose God takes issue with two men being together? I mean, I can understand 'Thou shalt not kill' and 'Thou shalt not steal.' Those things cause harm to others. But who are we hurting by being in love?"

B.J.'s expression was a mixture of affection and amusement. "No one," he said firmly.

"So what's His reasoning?"

"I don't think He needs a reason. He's God." B.J. paused, then speculated, "But you know… maybe it's because we can't go forth and multiply, neither one of us having a uterus."

"You've already multiplied," Hawkeye pointed out. "And I'd think God would be positively delighted that I'm not multiplying. Look how screwed up I am… the world certainly doesn't need any miniature Hawkeye Pierces running around."

B.J. still had that sweet smile on his face. "You're screwed up in a good way," he reassured Hawkeye. Then he shook his head and changed gears. "Anyway, I thought you were an agnostic. Suddenly you care what the Bible says?"

"I'm just trying to figure it out. A lot of people believe in God, and a lot of people think what we're doing is wrong. Makes you wonder, that's all."

B.J. ran a hand through Hawkeye's hair, letting his fingers get lost in it. He was quiet a moment, growing more serious. "Hawkeye, the God I believe in doesn't disapprove of our relationship. He understands this."

Hawkeye pulled B.J. closer, dropping a kiss on his right shoulder, following it with a lick. "Not hard to understand," he mumbled. "It's just love."

B.J. grabbed the back of Hawkeye's neck, lifting his head up for a deep, satisfying, breathtaking kiss. After they parted, he put his mouth against Hawk's ear and whispered, "It sure is."

"C'mon, Beej, we're going to be late for work," Hawkeye called out, scrambling to get the breakfast dishes into the sink for washing later. "Erin? Are you ready to go?"

"Coming, Hawkeye!" came the little-girl voice.

"Coming, Hawk!" came the other-man-of-the-house voice.

Hawkeye smiled as he grabbed his car keys off the kitchen table. A typical manic morning in the Pierce-Hunnicutt household. Someday this family would actually get organized. Well, maybe.

There was a sudden banging on the front door and he rushed to it, the knock sounding frantic. When he opened the door, he was astonished to see Ruth Kopperman standing there, her eyes wild, her expression stricken.

"Doctor, please help my husband! Please!"

He looked past her and across the street, to where her husband lay in the middle of their driveway, unmoving.

"Beej!" he yelled back into the house. "Hurry up—across the street! Now!"

He didn't wait for a reply. He bolted out of the house and across the street to the Kopperman's, not knowing if Ruth was following him or not. She was, as it turned out, and she came up behind him just as he knelt down and felt for the man's carotid pulse. Mr. Kopperman's eyes were closed and he was very pale. "No pulse," he told Ruth without turning around. He leaned over and listened for breath sounds. "No respiration. I'm going to start chest compressions—go inside and call an ambulance. Hurry!"

She hesitated for a second, perhaps not wanting to leave her husband's side, but then she dashed into the house without another word. Hawkeye began CPR and didn't even hear B.J.'s approach until he was there. "What's going on, Hawk—oh shit."

"She's calling an ambulance," Hawkeye managed to say in between administering mouth-to-mouth. "Can you do the compressions?"

And then B.J. was on his knees next to him, assisting him, and they were efficiency in action. They'd seen every possible emergency situation in Korea; it was second nature to them to work as a tandem, and they were brilliant at it.

By the time the ambulance arrived, siren wailing, a few minutes later, Mr. Kopperman was breathing again and his pulse was faint but there. The paramedics took over, working quickly but carefully as they loaded Kopperman into the ambulance. Hawkeye got slowly to his feet, feeling a little dizzy after all that exertion. B.J. put an arm around him to steady him. "Great work, Hawk."

"You too, Beej."

One of the paramedics helped Ruth Kopperman into the back of the ambulance so she could ride to the hospital with her husband. Before the door closed, she looked at Hawkeye and B.J., her mouth quivering, and said, "Thank you both."

They watched in silence, their arms around each other, as the vehicle sped off, siren blaring once again.

A few days later, there was once again a knock on the front door. B.J. got there first, opening it just as Hawkeye arrived at his side. Ruth Kopperman stood there, looking a hell of a lot calmer than the last time she'd stood on their doorstep.

She held out a casserole dish, offering it to them. "Doctors, I made you a tuna-noodle casserole to thank you for helping my husband. Saving his life, I should say. I'm afraid he might have died if you hadn't…" Her voice cracked, but she got herself under control quickly. "Well, I can't thank you enough, obviously."

Hawkeye took the casserole dish from her, saying, "You're welcome. And this was very thoughtful of you."

She waved a hand. "Please, I… I don't know what to say. I was so rude to you both for so long, and yet you came to our aid without hesitation… I'm humbled. And ashamed…" She trailed off. She was clearly struggling to express herself, but that was all right. Her words were sincere, and it must've been difficult to say them.

B.J. put a hand on her arm. "Please, Mrs. Kopperman, don't worry about it," he said in his soothing voice. "How is your husband doing?"

She actually smiled; it might've been the first time they ever saw her do that. "He's doing well, thank you. He'll be home from the hospital soon."

"That's great news," Hawkeye said, returning her smile. "Keep us posted on him, would you?"

"Of course. I'm going to visit him right now. I just wanted to drop that off." She indicated the casserole with a tip of her head.

"Thank you, we'll enjoy it tonight," B.J. assured her.

Erin came bounding down the stairs, then stopped short when she saw Ruth Kopperman standing in their doorway. "Daddy?" she asked, uncertain, because after all, this woman had been the scary neighbor lady for as long as Erin had known her.

"It's all right, Erin. Say hello to Mrs. Kopperman."

Erin took the last few steps down and joined the adults. She politely held out her hand for Mrs. Kopperman to shake. "Hello," she said shyly.

Ruth Kopperman seemed taken aback at the youngster's manners. "Hello there, Erin. Your fathers did something wonderful for me the other day, did you know about that?"

She declared proudly, "They saved that man's life."

Ruth smiled at her. "They sure did."

Erin, becoming more confident, added, "And you like them now, right?"

"You bet I do," Ruth assured her. "They're terrific young men."

"Oh, I know," Erin told her, nodding emphatically. "I live with them."

Mrs. Kopperman laughed and briefly cupped Erin's cheek. With a wave goodbye, she turned and headed back up the walk. The three of them watched her go, then B.J. shut the door, saying, "Well wasn't that nice?" He gestured at the heavy dish in Hawkeye's hands. "You hungry, Erin? It's tuna casserole!"

"Yay!" she squealed.

"And Hawkeye didn't make it," B.J. added with a wry smile, "so it has a good chance of being edible."

"Hey! Thanks a lot," Hawkeye grumbled as he followed B.J. and Erin into the kitchen. He let out a plaintive sigh. Someday this family would actually learn to appreciate the culinary creations of Hawkeye Pierce.

Well… maybe.