Minefields

May 11, 2002

Disclaimer: I have no Disclaimer. If you really believe I plagerized this plot from another source......well..........there's not much I can say to reassure you--may I suggest a professional? Harm is pretty much in character in this story--so I ask for no apology. However, for Bud, he's portrayed in a somewhat skewed vision--my apologies all around. Oh yes, this tale is based on the previews for Season Seven's In Country.

Harm rubbed his head and grimaced. Opening his eyes it seemed impossible to focus. In front of him were only waves of heat. He could have sworn he had heard Mac's voice yell out. Struggling to his feet he wavered and almost went down again. Pressing one hand to the back of his head where he must have hit the ground he also reached out his other to help sustain his precarious balance. Furrowing up his brow he thought hard about where he might be. He couldn't really focus on anything and the landscape seemed barren--except for the heat that shimmered and danced, as though it had life of its own. And then it did. A column of heat in front of him solidified. A figure stood before him.

"Mac?"

"Sir? This is Bud. Lt. Roberts?"

"I know who you are Bud." He put more pressure on his head.

"But, Sir? You just called me Mac."

"Bud," Harm would have shaken his head in exasperation, but pain was something he really wanted to avoid at this moment. "I know who you are. What I don't know is how you got here and why."

Bud considered this for a moment. "Sir, I haven't seen the Colonel in a while. I came here in a jeep, sir."

Harm was feeling the back of his head for any damage and was only half listening.

"It runs on gasoline."

There must be a lump, why else would Bud be here rambling?

"Petrol?"

"Natural Gas?"

"Fossil Fuel, sir!"

Harm took a risk and shook his head a bit.

Bud leaned forward a little, concern deepening on his face. "Vroom, vroom?"

Shoot. The head shaking definitely was not working. He blinked rapidly a few times hoping to make Bud disappear. Unfortunately, he only wavered a bit and then came sharply into focus.

Wearing a towel.

Harm was now feverishly searching for sign of a head injury. This was the only time in his life when he desperately wanted to experience brain trauma.

He did not want to go through this hallucination thing again. A towel was bad enough, he really did not want to see Bud in….

An evening gown.

Oh crap, Harm thought.

The green gown was bad enough. It was the fact that the original Towel Bud was still there that was truly frightening.

Harm asked himself that age old question, Why do bad things always happen to me?

"That's a good question sir. It's one I've really struggled with." Green Sequined Bud seemed to have heard his question.

"Because you're wearing a green sequined formal?"

Bud's skirt swayed a bit as he stood there.

"With heels?"

Bud looked down. "Cool! Look sir! I have nail polish to match!"

"This is all I need," Harm muttered and made a move to sit down on the ground. Except a voice stopped him. Mac's voice, which called out, "Don't move Harm! It's a minefield!"

You're tellin' me.

Outloud, "Mac?"

"Sir? She's really not here."

"You want me to believe Mac's not here, but there are two…" a shadow glimmered on his left, "no, three of you?"

To the new arrival he said, "Bud I think gold lame is definitely not your best color."

"You're probably right sir, but I love the back!" Gold Bud executed a pivot turn that would have had most men in strappy sandals on the ground, but Bud, Gold Bud, remained upright. He was right. The back of the dress had an impressive intricate design of fine gold cords.

"Geez, Bud."

Bud turned back around. "Now I know why girls really dig Military Balls."

"Girls, Bud?"

"Women. Females. The Fairer Sex."

"Enough Bud."

"Yes, sir."

"Bud, how long is this going to go on?" Harm addressed Towel Bud.

"I'm not sure sir. How long are you going to stand there?" he looked curiously to where Harm stood rooted.

A very good question.

"Sir, how about a game of 20 questions to pass the time?"

"Animal, vegetable, mineral, Bud?" Harm asked sarcastically.

"Oooooh, can I play? I'll guess mineral."

Harm looked over his shoulder. Black dress this time. With a hat.

A hat. Good God.

"It's never a mineral, " Green Sequined Bud said, "Nobody ever knows mineral names."

"Au contraire." Bud's gold dress sizzled as he wagged his finger back and forth. "It is indeed a mineral."

"Wow! I don't know if I've ever played where it's a mineral before!" said the newest arrival.

In Harm's opinion Bud was way too enthused about this for a guy with a fake bird on his head.

Muttering Harm said, "I don't know how long I can take this. Time to put the game out of its misery." Speaking louder, "Micaquartzfeldsparcalcitetourmalinesulfertalcpyrite…"

"Darn," Gold Bud looked shattered.

"Was it the tourmaline?" Green Sequined Bud asked him.

"No, the talc."

"Oh. That's a mineral?"

"Yeah."

Harm rolled his eyes and tuned back to Towel Bud, figuring the original model was probably his best way of getting information, and at least he's not wearing heels, "How many of you are there?"

"I think we're growing exponentially, sir."

"Great. Exponents."

"Yup, looks like it-see-there's three more over there. Hey! I think mauve is my color.

"Mauve? Bud, I think your heels are causing the blood to drain away from your brain. You're a man. You're not supposed to know about 'mauve.'"

"I'm not? Oh, well then…….is that pink? Or purple? How am I supposed to know?"

"Much better."

Bud swung his arm out to point at half a dozen new Buds arriving on the perimeter of their cluster. "This is so much fun Sir!" In his excitement, something unfortunate happened to the precariously hooked towel.

Harm threw his hand up in front of his eyes, "Geez Bud! Get a grip. Literally!"

"Whoops!"

"Whoops? Just get it fixed!"

"I'm trying sir, but I'm having problems keeping this up. I just don't have the right equipment for this outfit."

"Just tell me when you're decent and eliminate the commentary."

"Yes sir."

There was a brief period of quiet broken only by the occasional mutter, but then Bud gave the all clear and Harm squinted out from between two of his fingers before bringing his hand down.

"Women just have an easier time getting this tucked up right." Bud gestured with his hand, and then put it back on the towel at Harm's pointed look.

"They know how to twist it right, and it stays up because…..you know…..of their……."

"Breasts, Bud?"

Towel Bud blushed while the other Buds in hearing distance began to closely examine their fingernails. Gold Bud fiddled with the earrings dangling from each ear.

"Ummmmm, right sir, thanks."

"No problem."

"Right. So, anyway, this place is becoming more like a…."

"Minefield," Harm said morosely.

"That's it sir. A minefield. Can't go anywhere without stepping on one of me, that's kind of funny!" He chuckled to himself for a minute, then stopped when he saw Harm wasn't joining in.

"Hey look sir! I think I see something coming!"

Harm turned his head to the right, and sure enough, in the distance, a cloud of dust could be seen. It was definitely headed in this direction. Bud with the Bird Hat shaded his eyes and said, "I think it's a jeep sir." He squinted a bit and then added, "Looks like a lot of new arrivals. I guess just appearing was inefficient."

"Fantastic."

Towel Bud was coming very close to hopping up and down in excitement. "I think so too, sir. This is so much fun. Awesome! It looks like they brought a beach umbrella!"

It was too much for Harm, and apparently for Bud's towel. As Towel Bud gave his last joyful hop, the towel started to slip down unnoticed by everyone except Harm. Not able to take the stress any longer, he took three strides forward. His intent he wasn't sure of, it was either to rescue the towel or to strangle Bud. Maybe both.

But he never got the chance to make his choice. The world went dark.

A few hours later Harm awoke with a throbbing headache and felt heat radiating through him. Not wanting to open his eyes to a minefield filled with Buds, he decided he would just lie in peaceful oblivion, even if it were scorching and filled with throbbing pain.

Until he heard the voice beside him.

"Bud?"

"Bud? Harm? It's Mac…"

"Are you sure?"

"Am I sure I'm Mac? Yes, I'm sure!"

"Are you wearing a towel?"