Title : Sometimes The Bullet Lies To Me
Author : Rob Morris
Contact : gojirob@hotmail.com
Series : BTVS/MASH
Type : Dialogue Remix
Eps Remixed : Lie To Me; BTVS S2 - Sometimes You Hear The Bullet MASH S1
Characters : Hawkeye&Henry, 1950-51; Buffy&Giles, late 1997
Part : 1/1
Rating : PG
Summary : Surgeon and Slayer had part of their early runs defined by the brutal loss of an old friend. Those who sought to guide them tried to help with surprisingly similar words of harsh comfort. So a little dialogue swap seemed to be in order.
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Sometimes The Bullet Lies To Me
by Rob Morris
KOREA
Hawkeye looked at his CO, and for once the pleading was all in the eyes of the brash surgeon who had just lost a dear old friend.
"Henry, before I let this war go on its merry way, I have to know. At some
point, do we hit the easy part of this fershluginner test?"
Colonel Blake couldn't afford to let Pierce rest very long, and he could not
afford to let him lose his edge at all. He shrugged.
"That's a mite vague, Captain. We talking about just the war, or life?"
Hawkeye was holding the wall for support the way he never had, even when blasted drunk.
"Either. Both. Neither. All of it. Just tell if it evens out. It'd be helpful
in my continued breathing, not to mention caring about the same."
"Let me see if I've got this straight. The man who laughs at my sex lectures
and tells me I'm practically a Loony Tunes come to life wants me to say...what? Pierce, just what the hell do you want me to say?"
Hawkeye found that his tears were still flowing as he responded. Tommy Gillis was still gone.
"Lie. Lying would be nice. A really good corker of a lie. Something on the
order of Santa Claus and an honest Congress would do for starters. And then just keep on lying. I'll tell you when never to stop."
Henry looked, but was obviously not, amused, as he did what Pierce requested.
"Hell, I don't even need Radar to do that. See, its like this. Eventually,
every single patient who comes through here will live. All the boneheads at HQ and all the thieves in the supply chain will be stripped of commision or
arrested, to be replaced by enlightened and honest men. Our strong morals and ethics will convince the other side to give up without a protracted struggle, and the promises of world peace we've heard since Wilson will one and all come true, and no American will ever question another's loyalty, ever again. There. Does that help?"
Hawkeye looked back at the OR, and then at Blake. He prepared to go back in.
"You know what, Henry? Its no wonder you have trouble running this place. No offense, but you're a lousy liar."
"S'okay, Pierce. I get the same thing from Lorraine."
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SUNNYDALE
Buffy watched the empty shell of her childhood friend fall to dust. Her
tears were still coming out, ignoring her best efforts at self-control.
"You know what, Giles? It occurs to me, that, not long after I hit this burg,
one of the first vamps I dusted was Xander's pal Jesse."
"Your point being?"
Buffy looked down at the disturbed dirt of Lucas's grave and began to pat it
with her foot.
"Point being, Xander's been a good friend. But when he lost his bestest pal, I didn't with the waterworks make."
Giles tried to guide her away from what was sure to come.
"Your friendship was new, then."
"Yeah, but I knew they'd been buds. I could have at least told him more
forcefully how much that all sucked. But I didn't. I didn't cry over the kid
who became The Anointed One. My professor got his block lopped off by a horny mantis--but no tears from Buffy. Rough tough ole Slayer, that's me."
The Watcher offered what comfort he could.
"We have a problem. In order for me to competently and purposefully explain why you haven't cried for all those lost in this struggle, I would have to be a seventh-level initiate, my eventual place on the Senior Council all but reserved. Were that the case, though, I wouldn't be here with you. I'd be deciding twixt lemon or lime in my tea and buttering my biscuits with those flower-bud-shaped pats you see in fine hotels, this while watching the Thames from the Grand Solarium at our London headquarters. As you can see, its quite remarkable how England looks nothing at all like Southern California."
"So being stuck here with me, what do you know? What lower-level wisdom can you offer? I'm not picky."
Giles put a hand on her shoulder.
"All I can offer is what my grandmother told me. This is no game we play, but rather it is a war, and a total war at that. The first great constant is that the innocent, the guilty, the damned, the saved, the loved, the hated, the sinner and the repentant one and all will often drop like flies right before your eyes. This also ties with the second great constant, which
clearly states that the first constant endures, uncaring of the efforts of
Slayers or other champions."
"And you swear by all that?"
Giles threw his hands up.
"Swear by it? I wouldn't even say that I fully believe in it."
Buffy saw someone across the street, and resolved to act.
"So we take what we can get? That's cool with me. Because I see one I can get right straight ahead."
Shortly thereafter, Buffy walked into the Sunnydale Police Department almost carrying a very reluctant young woman she would not see again until
overwhelmed, she herself ran away from home.
"Let me go!"
"Hey, Officer. I don't know this girl's real name, but I'll bet she does. She
nearly caused really bad harm to herself and others, just last night, by
pulling a really stupid stunt with some of those people--you know, the ones on PCP? Yeah, *those* PCP stoners. Now, I'm going to be a major pain in your butts until you contact her parents and tell me they're on their way. Got me?"
After this was done and the appropriate limbs threatened with breakage should she run, the vampire wannabe sneered at the Slayer.
"I will never forgive you for this for as long as I live!"
Buffy shrugged as she walked out.
"Just be sure and teach your grandkids to hate me, too."
Buffy then walked back in.
"That's grandkids by way of childbirth. Not---siring."
Author : Rob Morris
Contact : gojirob@hotmail.com
Series : BTVS/MASH
Type : Dialogue Remix
Eps Remixed : Lie To Me; BTVS S2 - Sometimes You Hear The Bullet MASH S1
Characters : Hawkeye&Henry, 1950-51; Buffy&Giles, late 1997
Part : 1/1
Rating : PG
Summary : Surgeon and Slayer had part of their early runs defined by the brutal loss of an old friend. Those who sought to guide them tried to help with surprisingly similar words of harsh comfort. So a little dialogue swap seemed to be in order.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
--------------------------------
Sometimes The Bullet Lies To Me
by Rob Morris
KOREA
Hawkeye looked at his CO, and for once the pleading was all in the eyes of the brash surgeon who had just lost a dear old friend.
"Henry, before I let this war go on its merry way, I have to know. At some
point, do we hit the easy part of this fershluginner test?"
Colonel Blake couldn't afford to let Pierce rest very long, and he could not
afford to let him lose his edge at all. He shrugged.
"That's a mite vague, Captain. We talking about just the war, or life?"
Hawkeye was holding the wall for support the way he never had, even when blasted drunk.
"Either. Both. Neither. All of it. Just tell if it evens out. It'd be helpful
in my continued breathing, not to mention caring about the same."
"Let me see if I've got this straight. The man who laughs at my sex lectures
and tells me I'm practically a Loony Tunes come to life wants me to say...what? Pierce, just what the hell do you want me to say?"
Hawkeye found that his tears were still flowing as he responded. Tommy Gillis was still gone.
"Lie. Lying would be nice. A really good corker of a lie. Something on the
order of Santa Claus and an honest Congress would do for starters. And then just keep on lying. I'll tell you when never to stop."
Henry looked, but was obviously not, amused, as he did what Pierce requested.
"Hell, I don't even need Radar to do that. See, its like this. Eventually,
every single patient who comes through here will live. All the boneheads at HQ and all the thieves in the supply chain will be stripped of commision or
arrested, to be replaced by enlightened and honest men. Our strong morals and ethics will convince the other side to give up without a protracted struggle, and the promises of world peace we've heard since Wilson will one and all come true, and no American will ever question another's loyalty, ever again. There. Does that help?"
Hawkeye looked back at the OR, and then at Blake. He prepared to go back in.
"You know what, Henry? Its no wonder you have trouble running this place. No offense, but you're a lousy liar."
"S'okay, Pierce. I get the same thing from Lorraine."
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
----------------------------------
SUNNYDALE
Buffy watched the empty shell of her childhood friend fall to dust. Her
tears were still coming out, ignoring her best efforts at self-control.
"You know what, Giles? It occurs to me, that, not long after I hit this burg,
one of the first vamps I dusted was Xander's pal Jesse."
"Your point being?"
Buffy looked down at the disturbed dirt of Lucas's grave and began to pat it
with her foot.
"Point being, Xander's been a good friend. But when he lost his bestest pal, I didn't with the waterworks make."
Giles tried to guide her away from what was sure to come.
"Your friendship was new, then."
"Yeah, but I knew they'd been buds. I could have at least told him more
forcefully how much that all sucked. But I didn't. I didn't cry over the kid
who became The Anointed One. My professor got his block lopped off by a horny mantis--but no tears from Buffy. Rough tough ole Slayer, that's me."
The Watcher offered what comfort he could.
"We have a problem. In order for me to competently and purposefully explain why you haven't cried for all those lost in this struggle, I would have to be a seventh-level initiate, my eventual place on the Senior Council all but reserved. Were that the case, though, I wouldn't be here with you. I'd be deciding twixt lemon or lime in my tea and buttering my biscuits with those flower-bud-shaped pats you see in fine hotels, this while watching the Thames from the Grand Solarium at our London headquarters. As you can see, its quite remarkable how England looks nothing at all like Southern California."
"So being stuck here with me, what do you know? What lower-level wisdom can you offer? I'm not picky."
Giles put a hand on her shoulder.
"All I can offer is what my grandmother told me. This is no game we play, but rather it is a war, and a total war at that. The first great constant is that the innocent, the guilty, the damned, the saved, the loved, the hated, the sinner and the repentant one and all will often drop like flies right before your eyes. This also ties with the second great constant, which
clearly states that the first constant endures, uncaring of the efforts of
Slayers or other champions."
"And you swear by all that?"
Giles threw his hands up.
"Swear by it? I wouldn't even say that I fully believe in it."
Buffy saw someone across the street, and resolved to act.
"So we take what we can get? That's cool with me. Because I see one I can get right straight ahead."
Shortly thereafter, Buffy walked into the Sunnydale Police Department almost carrying a very reluctant young woman she would not see again until
overwhelmed, she herself ran away from home.
"Let me go!"
"Hey, Officer. I don't know this girl's real name, but I'll bet she does. She
nearly caused really bad harm to herself and others, just last night, by
pulling a really stupid stunt with some of those people--you know, the ones on PCP? Yeah, *those* PCP stoners. Now, I'm going to be a major pain in your butts until you contact her parents and tell me they're on their way. Got me?"
After this was done and the appropriate limbs threatened with breakage should she run, the vampire wannabe sneered at the Slayer.
"I will never forgive you for this for as long as I live!"
Buffy shrugged as she walked out.
"Just be sure and teach your grandkids to hate me, too."
Buffy then walked back in.
"That's grandkids by way of childbirth. Not---siring."
