Disclaimer: Not mine, I just like to let them out to misbehave

A/N: For Freakylady666. You asked, I delivered (eventually). Hope it lives up to your expectations!


"I could have really gone for you, you know…" Margaret's drunken shower confession wouldn't leave him alone, as Trapper tossed and turned in his bunk. It had been an exhausting night, in surgery 'til almost three in the morning and here he was unable to sleep, seeing her soaking wet every time he closed his eyes, feeling her damp body pressed into his.

It had taken all of his self-control not to strip Margaret naked in that shower and give her everything she was asking for, regardless of the fact that she was black-out drunk and Hawkeye was standing within arm's reach. Frustrated, he threw back the covers and tugged on his boots, grabbing his shower kit on his way out the door.

Lost in his own world, it took Trapper a moment to realize that he'd walked into the wrong shower tent; and a moment longer to realize it was occupied. It was Margaret's sharp gasp that brought him back to reality,

"Oh! Margaret! I'm so sorry!" Trapper yelped, doing a quick about-face and covering his eyes as he waited for the tirade she was surely about to unleash on him. As much as he and Hawkeye joked about peeking in the nurses' shower, he'd never actually dreamed of doing something so depraved and now here he was with the image of a glistening and naked Margaret, burned into his retinas.

"Trap?" her voice was soft, so unlike the anger he's expected it took him a moment to realize she was talking to him. He jumped as he felt the warm body press into his back, Margaret's arms wrapping around his chest.

"Margaret," he croaked, turning in her arms, "Are you still drunk?"

"Not even a little," Margaret hummed, pushing her fingers through the curly blonde hair she'd admired from afar for so long. She shivered, her towel slipping open a little, giving Trapper a heart-stopping view of her thigh.

"Cold?" Trapper asked, locking the door to the shower tent before taking Margaret by the hand and tugging her back to the stall. Letting go of the graceful, warm hand, Trapper began to slowly untie the belt of his robe. Margaret swallowed thickly as Trapper yanked off his t-shirt, exposing his broad chest, rippling with the muscle she'd always known was hiding beneath the boxy, shapeless fatigues.

"I was right," Margaret murmured, "You are built."

Trapper chuckled, pulling her close and fisting his fingers in her blonde hair, tugging her head back before lowering his lips to hers. Margaret moaned as he kissed her, her knees buckling as Trapper deepened the kiss. Trapper wrapped an arm around Margaret's waist and pulled her closer as they stumbled blindly into the shower stall, Margaret's towel slipping to the floor. Margaret shrieked with surprise as Trapper turned on the water, breaking the kiss to tip her head back and revel in the warm water sluicing down her body.

"So are you," Trapper hummed, stepping back to admire the beauty in front of him, "Built, I mean."

Margaret laughed, her hands straying to the last remaining piece of clothing in the shower with them, Trapper's boxer shorts.

"I think it's time we lose these," she whispered, pushing them off his hips with a mischievous smile. Trapper groaned as she dropped to her knees, taking him into her mouth without hesitation, the warm water of the shower adding an entirely new dimension to the experience.

"Margaret," Trapper grunted, his fingers tangling in her damp hair. After a few minutes, Margaret got to her feet, her Cheshire-cat grin widening,

"You have no idea how long I've dreamed about this," she whispered. Turning off the water, Trapper took her hand again and led her from the shower stall. Drying off quickly, Trapper donned his robe and helped Margaret into hers, pulling her from the shower tent.

"We're doing this right," he growled, leading her across the compound to her tent.

As the door thumped shut behind them, Trapper pushed the silky robe from Margaret's shoulders, watching in wonder as the fabric pooled in a peachy satin puddle at her feet.

"Sit," he whispered, turning her and pushing her gently towards the bed. Margaret was strangely nervous as she sat on the edge of her cot, eyes locked on her feet as Trapper untied his robe, once again leaving him naked before her. Kneeling before her, Trapper took Margaret's chin in his hand, "I want to make you feel better than you ever have before."

Margaret inhaled sharply, her eyes searching out his, body beginning to tremble with anticipation. Margaret lay back on the cot as Trapper moved over her, his lips seeking out hers again before straying down her neck. Trapper stopped to suck on the bounding pulse he could see in her throat before moving to her chest.

"Oh God," Margaret whimpered, "Please John."

Trapper released her breast and smiled that crooked smile she loved up at her,

"Since when am I John to you?" he chuckled, enjoying the way Margaret looked with her hair fanned out on her pillow, skin flushed crimson from his attention.

"Don't stop," she begged, needing to feel more of him. Acquiescing, Trapper lowered his head once again, slowly working his way down her body. "John!" she cried out as his lips trailed her inner thigh, leaving her squirming and all but begging for more. Sensing her need, Trapper stopped teasing, his tongue sliding over the bundle of nerves at the apex of her thighs.

"Fuck!" she screamed, her hips rising off the bed. "Oh John please," Margaret begged, needing release. It felt as though her entire body splintered into a million pieces as the orgasm washed over her, sending shockwaves from the top of her head to the tips of her toes.

Trapper moved back up her body, dipping his head to capture Margaret's mouth in a searing kiss. Margaret moaned as she tasted herself on his lips, feeling her arousal start to build again.

"I need you," she whispered, her small hands closing over him, guiding him to her. The anticipation of the moment made it all that much sweeter when the joining of their bodies was finally complete. Beginning slowly, Trapper moved above Margaret, showering her face with kisses as she writhed below him. "Harder," she demanded, her hips rising from the bed to meet him.


In the afterglow, they lay cuddled into one another, the cot not nearly big enough for two. Trapper's fingers played down Margaret's spine, causing her to shiver with pleasure as her over-sensitized skin responded to his ministrations.

"I meant every word I said you know," Margaret said, her fingers nervously drawing nonsensical patterns on Trapper's chest.

Yeah," he agreed, "I know."

"So what does this mean?" she asked nervously, "For us I mean."

Trapper shifted uncomfortably, unsure how to answer.

"I don't expect big promises," Margaret whispered, "I always pick the unavailable men, or hadn't you noticed? I just mean, is this a one-time thing, or can I expect a repeat performance?"

Trapper chuckled, "Oh I'd say there will be repeat performances," as he rolled on top of her once again.


At the breakfast table the next morning, Trapper's impassioned little speech, meant to goad Frank, held more than a little truth and Margaret had to work to hide her blush as he held her hands. And with a wink, he and Hawkeye sauntered off, leaving a blustering Frank and a blushing Margaret in their wake.