Chapter Eight

They sat there for a moment, neither daring to breath in case the other would disappear in a haze as though it were a dream. Then Sally broke the silence with a sob as she dissolved into his arms in a flurry of tears. He held her so close he though he might break her ribs, grasping her to him and burying his face in her hair. They sat there for a long time, holding onto each other as though their lives depended on it, and it a way they did.

Mulcahy spoke first however, as he came to his senses at last – or what was left of them.

"But… you're… I don't understand. You're married. You wrote me and told me. I thought… I assumed…" his words ran out as he looked at her shining eyes.

"You got my letter?" she asked breathlessly. "I didn't think you'd… you never answered them and I…" her voice cracked with the hurt which pierced his heart once more.

"I read your letter too late. I was out of the country and I arrived back two days after you… oh no, it's true, isn't it?" his voice threatened to crack and give him away. "You're married and I'm too late." His chin dropped and he stared at the ground, afraid to let her see the tears which were threatening to flow at any moment.

She caught his face in her hands and gently brought it up to face her.

"I'm not married. I couldn't go through with it," she said.

He stared at her in surprise. "You couldn't…. you mean, you're not?"

"I'm not. I thought you'd come and get me, and when you didn't, I was devastated, but I just couldn't give up on you. I couldn't let you go."

He stared at her in shock for a few more moments, taking in what she had told him. And then he threw her completely.

Jumping up from his kneeling position he let out a whoop of joy, a cry of utter exaltation – and leapt straight into the lake. Standing in the ice cold water up to his waist he continued to shout and holler as he splashed around, much to Sally's amusement.

"Johnny!" she yelled over his shouting, "Have you lost your mind? I don't understand!"

He waded over to where she knelt by the water's edge and looked straight at her.

"You were right!" he said. "You were right and I was wrong, and God wanted us to be together. I was just too wrapped up in looking for the wrong things to do rather than just giving in and doing the right thing!" He looked at her in breathless excitement.

"Johnny!" she said, catching his shoulders before he could disappear again. "You're not making any sense. What do you mean I was right? What about your calling?"

"My calling," he said softly, "Is to be with you. Forever. That's what God wants me to do. He told me so, just now. I've left the church, Sally. I thought I'd lost you forever, and suddenly life just didn't seem worth living. But now you're here and you're real," he paused for a moment. "That's if you still want me," he said, his face suddenly serious.

Sally laughed. She laughed long and loud and hard. "Do I still want you? A year ago I turned round to a church of three hundred people and told them the wedding was off! I wrote you fifty letters without one reply! Five years I've waited! I've travelled halfway across the world to see you, and you ask if I still want you? Are you out of your mind?" Mulcahy's heart sank as he realised how much he'd let her down over the years. How could he possibly expect her to feel the same for him after all he'd made her suffer?

Then it was her turn to throw him.

"Of course I still want you, more than ever. I love you!"

He laughed now, as he caught her round the waist and pulled her into the freezing cold water. She squealed as it wrapped around her legs, and she struggled and splashed him in mock horror at what he'd done. And then, they found themselves wrapped around each other, standing in the freezing water, oblivious to its debilitating cold. They could only look at each other and marvel at how close they came to missing out on the best thing in their lives.

"I love you too, Sally. Marry me," he said quietly.

Sally choked on a giggle. "Did you just propose to me?" she asked.

The old, shy Mulcahy made an appearance then, as he cast his gaze around to think about what she'd said.

"Well, yes!" he replied, suddenly bold again. "I suppose I did! Who'd've thought it, eh?"

A voice rang out over from the direction of the bar. "Well hurry up and kiss her then!" Hawkeye bawled.

They immediately turned to see that they had drawn an audience. It was hard to make out what the look was on their faces, but the cheer which erupted as Mulcahy and Sally finally sealed their future with a kiss told them all they needed to know.

oOo

On way home they'd wrapped themselves up in a blanket on the backseat of Hawkeye's car and listened politely as the man himself had hooted and yelled about the fact that "The kids had finally made us proud." Neither Mulcahy nor Sally had said anything, preferring to simply sit and listen with their fingers meshed tightly together lest anything might try and pull them apart. Later that night, as they on the bed together in Hawkeye's spare room, they told each other what had happened in the five years since they had seen each other. And it was time for some apologies too.

"I'm sorry I didn't answer your letters, Sally." Mulcahy said, not able to look at her.

"It's OK, it's all in the past now." she said softly, kissing his forehead. She brushed his fringe away, noticing it was slightly greyer now, and thinner. "You know, I used to love to watch you sleep, you always looked so angelic, the way your hair falls across like that."

He blushed at these words, "When did you ever watch me sleep?" he asked with a smile.

"A few times," she said. "In that hut with the North Koreans. And the night I came to see you, before I left camp."

Mulcahy bit his tongue remembering the harsh way he had spoken to her that night, and once again thanked God that she had loved him enough to see what he hadn't.

Sally yawned and rubbed her eyes, and he realised that he too was feeling rather sleepy.

"I think we'd better say goodnight," he said softly, sliding off of the bed and drawing the blankets round her slight body.

"Mmm, don't go yet!" she said playfully, pushing a hand out and stoking his cheek as he bent over her.

"I'll be here in the morning, I promise," he said, kissing her softly and sweetly on the lips.

"You better had be," she joked, "You've proposed to me now, there's no going back!"

He gathered up his quilt and stood watching her from the doorway, smiling the same warm smile which she remembered so well.

"I promise you, I will never let you go again, Sally. Never. Not for as long as I live."

With that he turned out the light, closed the door softly and padded downstairs to the sofa in the den. As he passed along the hallway, he noticed that there was a light shining out from beneath the kitchen door. Dropping his bedding in the hallway, he made his way along the cold tiles to see who was still up at this hour. When he opened the door, he found BJ rummaging in the fridge. Mulcahy sat down at the kitchen table and BJ turned around and smiled.

"You've had quite a day, haven't you, Francis," he said, placing a bowl of strawberries on the table.

"Better than I ever imagined. I can't believe it was only this morning that I spoke to you about Sally, about how I thought that none of us would ever see her again."

BJ smiled sadly at him. "I'm very happy for you, Francis. Truly I am. You two were made to be together." He sniffed at a plate of cold meat before placing it back on the shelf. "Just a shame it took you so long to figure it out for yourself!"

He punched Mulcahy playfully on the shoulder, and they laughed. Mulcahy looked at him seriously for a moment.

"I'm sorry it's come at such a difficult time for you though, BJ. It was a little insensitive of me to go crashing on about marriage and happiness."

"Don't worry about it, I've got my own way of coping with these things," he said with a wink.

Mulcahy looked puzzled, until the door opened. Standing there was Margaret Houlihan, her blouse unbuttoned dangerously low, and with a smile of her face.

"Any luck with that midnight snack, BJ? I'm getting rather peckish," she drawled, her voice sounding unmistakably husky.

Mulcahy removed his glasses and began to polish them furiously as BJ brandished his plates in reply.

"Don't stay up too late, Francis!" he said with a wink as he breezed past him and into Margaret's waiting arms.

Mulcahy sat at the table and listened to them giggling their way upstairs, only moving when he heard their door close behind them. He walked through the hallway, picking up his abandoned sheets on the way, and made his way to the den, undressing and settling down on the couch. He lay there for a few moments before he made his decision, and rose again from his bed. Tiptoeing upstairs, he let himself back into Sally's bedroom and closed the door softly behind him. She stirred at the soft 'click' of the catch and sat up in bed asking "Is that you, Johnny?"

"Yes, sweetheart, it's me. I wondered… we could just cuddle, couldn't we?"

Sally smiled at him in the halflight, and held back the covers to allow him to slip underneath.

Fin

A/N: That's it, the end. This story has taken me a while, and has been through many different rewrites, especially when it came to the ending (one draft even has Sally ending up in California married to BJ!). But in the end, my soppy side came shining through, and because I've grown to love Sally and Mulcahy so much I couldn't bear to condemn them to an eternity of unhappiness – so there! Please forgive my sentimentality, and don't forget to tell me what you think! Thanks, Roo x