DISCLAIMER: If you think I own MASH...then you are crazy.

This is my attempt at MASH femmeslash featuring Lieutenant Gwen Farrell lusting over Margaret.

I believe Gwen has only ever had about one line in the entire show and that was in the episode 'The Life You Save'.

So anyway, read and let me know what you think.

I often wonder what Major Houlihan is like when she is alone in her tent; when she is free and uninhibited and can drop the Head Nurse persona and just be Margaret.

I wonder if she lets herself experience pleasure, the kind that is not talked about publicly.

Oh, I know that there is nothing wrong with it, God knows of done it a number of times and I'm almost sure I heard Bigelow once when she thought everyone was asleep.

I know that when Margaret is around the doctors she lets herself go a little, lets out her true personality. Once when she was talking animatedly to BJ, I had to ask her a question. As soon as Margaret saw me she closed down and acted as though she was expecting a General to walk through the doors of Post Op.

I'm not going to lie; it hurt me…a lot.

I know that they throw soldiers out of the army for homosexuality via a Blue Discharge. I'm not so sure what the rules are for lesbians. I'm hardly a soldier. I am a nurse that joined the army to help people. I wonder what MacArthur's reaction to seeing two nurses making out in a Supply Tent would be. Surely not one of delighted surprise as was Hawkeye's.

That was one of the worst experiences of my 31 years. I discovered that one of the temporary nurses was interested in experimenting and I decided to show her a good time in the Supply Tent. She was such a pretty little thing that had only just graduated nursing school when she joined the Army Medical Core. I know that I was just taking advantage of a poor scared teenager who was still trying to find herself, but in a situation like this, one must take what pleasures one can get.

I had forgotten the old 'coat hanger on the door' ploy and Hawkeye walked in just as I removed Nurse Reid's bra. He took one look at us, smirked and turned right around and left the tent as though nothing had happened.

He's never mentioned it since. But every now and then Hawkeye shoots me a suggestive glance whenever there is a mention of new nurses.

I wonder if Major Houlihan…Margaret…has ever kissed a woman. Ever felt how soft another's breasts are beneath her hands. I wonder if she pleasures herself at night, writhing on her cot as her long fingers slide over her wet folds and just brushing her throbbing clit. I wonder what she looks like when she finally comes. Her hips bucking with the force of the orgasm and letting out a blissful moan that sounds like the name of her imaginary lover. Her blonde hair sticking to her sweaty brow, blue eyes glinting and a soft smile gracing her pink pouty lips.

Margaret and I have never talked apart from her barking instructions at me. I don't know what she is truly like and yet I am madly in love with this woman. This woman I only address as Major, indicating that we are not on equal terms.

Occasionally Margaret calls me by my first name when we are in the Officers Club. My name sounds so musical falling from those lips. Gwen.

How I long for her to utter my name breathlessly as we make love on her cot, away from the nurses and away from the war. How I desperately wish to feel her lips on mine, tongues dancing and hands caressing soft tanned breasts.

How I wish to mutter 'I love you' into her ear and hear it whispered back with equal passion.

When I am called into Margaret's tent late one Friday evening I am greeted with a hardened 'Lieutenant Farrell' and I brace myself for the ensuing argument.

I am infinitely surprised when Margaret crosses the tent and pulls me into a long, passionate kiss.

Margaret parts from me, her face inches from my own and whispers softly,

'Did you really think I didn't know?'

I gaze into the Major's azure eyes and mutter,

'There are a lot of things I don't know about you, Margaret.'

But I'd really like to learn.

END

Please review!

Until next time, Abyssinia,

Lucy