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This was a tough one to work with! :) The only thing I could think of was to turn it into a missing/alternate scene from "The Trial of Henry Blake." Apologies for the lame ending and, as always, sticking to the "five-minute" rule is an ideal I can only dream about....

First line: "If for any--"

by iolanthe <iolanthe@cais.com>

"If for any reason you are not completely satisfied, your money will be cheerfully refunded." Having delivered the last line of his boilerplate pitch, Radar sat back and waited to see whether he'd be writing up his very first sale or hitting the pavement again.

He fidgeted nervously under the scrutiny of his potential customer, feeling his smile becoming more forced with each passing second. This was the first real test of his budding sales career. Had he convinced Hawkeye to part with $8.95 for a pair of two-toned wingtips made with pride by the Style-Rite Shoe Company of Storm Lake, Iowa? Or not?

"Well, Mr. O'Reilly," Hawkeye said, sticking to the formal tone Radar had set. "Those are very nice, but like I said, I already have a pair of black-and-white shoes."

Sensing that his fish was slipping off the hook, Radar dialed up the earnestness in his voice. "But, sir, you should really consider the...."

Hawkeye held up a hand, a grin spreading across his face. "Hold on, I didn't say no."

"Then...you'll buy a pair?"

The grin widened. "You said the customer has to be completely satisfied -- did I hear that part right?"

"Oh, yes. Satisfaction is guaranteed."

"Then here's my offer to you, Mr. O'Reilly: I'll buy a pair of those shoes, but only on one condition."

"Sir?" Suspicion was dawning. Radar recalled that he'd seen that grin before, and it usually meant trouble.

"You'll have to kiss me first."

"*What*?" Instinctively, Radar scraped his chair back an inch or two.

"You heard me," said Hawkeye, calm as an inland lake. "You'll still get your $8.95, but it'll be more for the kiss than for the shoes."

"No offense, Cap'n Pierce, sir, but are you *crazy*?"

He shrugged. "That's my offer, kid. Take it or leave it."

Radar pondered, running through the list of reasons -- and there were many -- to flee the tent right now. _Eww, disgusting!_ _What if someone sees us?_ _What if my mom ever finds out?_

The arguments on the other side were more quickly evaluated. His first sale -- that important first step on the road to success -- would be locked in. And would it really be so bad? He'd only have to kiss the guy, after all, not get into bed with him.

In the end, Radar bit the bullet for the sake of his future financial independence. "I'll take it. I-I mean, I'll do it."

Hawkeye's grin had never faltered, and now there was a visible twinkle in his blue eyes. "Good. You may find this more comfortable if you move a little closer."

Glancing over his shoulder to see whether they could be easily observed from outside the tent, Radar half-rose and scooted his chair back toward Hawkeye's. "Okay. Now what?"

Hawkeye leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees, and stared with unnerving intensity into Radar's eyes. "Radar, haven't you ever kissed anybody before?"

"Uh...only girls, sir. And not too often."

"Hmm. Then close your eyes and pretend I'm a girl. With mysterious five o'clock shadow."

That made Radar laugh, and some of the tension eased. He could do this. Just get it over with fast -- how terrible could it be? So he made his move, closing his eyes and leaning in to meet his paying customer halfway.

Their lips touched, brushing gently together, and Radar was surprised to find it really wasn't that much different than kissing a girl. Nice and soft. He started to draw back, figuring he'd fulfilled his end of the bargain, but something made him hesitate, and he opened his eyes to see Hawkeye smiling at him.

"See? I don't bite."

"No, sir."

"Want to try again? No extra charge."

Radar didn't bother to point out that Hawkeye was the one paying *him* for this. He simply moved in for another taste, longer this time and more exploratory. When he felt the tip of Hawkeye's tongue press against his lips, delicate and undemanding, as if seeking permission to proceed, the sensations seemed to travel straight from his mouth down to the more personal areas of his body.

The sudden surge of arousal Radar experienced was frightening. Too much, too soon for a young man who'd never had any reason to question his orientation. He broke the kiss, his eyes pleading silently for understanding. "I-I'm sorry, Hawkeye," he whispered. "I'm not sure I can.... I mean I don't know...."

Fortunately, Hawkeye didn't look angry. "Shh...it's all right. I thought I'd take a chance, that's all. Test the waters."

"Oh. Oh, okay."

Hawkeye's smile was reassuringly warm. "If you ever change your mind, though, you know where to find me."

"Thanks." Radar sighed with relief, returning the smile with a grateful one of his own. "I'll remember that."

"Don't worry, you can still put me down for a pair of those classy wingtips. A deal's a deal." Hawkeye already had his wallet in hand, counting out the proper amount of scrip.

"Yes, sir! And on behalf of the Style-Rite Shoe Company of Storm Lake, Iowa, I thank you for your patronage."

"It's been a pleasure doing business with you, Mr. O'Reilly. Come back anytime."

END

© November 2002