Disclaimer: Hey, I don't own MASH or any of it's characters etc, etc, etc. I also don't own this song. I don't really know who does. Nancy Sinatra sings it, though. Whenever Margaret Houlihan doesn't, that is.

"Hey, Margaret, I just heard Donald is coming. Are you ok with that?" asked Hawkeye Pierce, catching up to the pretty head nurse as she walked across the compound to her tent after a long stint in surgery.

"I don't really have much of a choice, Pierce. He's on assignment by I-corps to do something or another, and he has to come see Colonel Potter." she said.

"Well, let me tell you this. None of us are really excited about not being able to pound him after how he treated you." said Hawkeye sincerely. She stopped and looked at him.

"Thanks, Hawkeye. You're actually a good friend, you know that?"

"I'm just worried about you. The unit has orders to throw a banquet in honour of the man that broke your heart. Doesn't it upset you that your friends are going to be toasting to your lying, cheating ex-husband?"

"It'll only bother me if you're toasting him sincerely." she said.

"Why are you so calm about this?" he asked.

"You'll see." she said, with a grin. "I hear you've been put in charge of the entertainment for tonight. Do you think you can squeeze me in?"

"Sure" said Hawkeye, giving her that grin of his. "I wish I knew what you were planning, though."

THAT NIGHT

"And now, before we officially begin our entertainment, we have a special guest performance by our very own Major Houlihan!" announced Hawkeye that evening, standing in front of the whole camp that night. Donald looked slightly confused, but he didn't want to be rude, and he stayed where he was. Margaret came out on stage in her dress uniform, but instead of her high-heels that she usually wore with the outfit, she wore her usual combat boots. One of the young Corporals sat off to the side of the make-shift stage and as he started to play the guitar, Margaret began to sing.

You keep saying you've got something for me.

Something you call love, but confess.

You've been messing where you shouldn't have been messing.

And now someone else is getting all your best.

These boots are Made for walking,

And that's just what they'll do

One of these days these boots are gonna walk all over you.

You keep lying when you aughta be truthing

And you keep losing when you aughta not bet.

You keep saming when you aughta be changing

Now what's right is right, but you ain't been right yet.

These boots are made for walking,

And that's just what they'll do

One of these days these boots are gonna walk all over you

You keep playing where you shouldn't be playing

And you keep thinking that you'll never get burned

I just found me a brand new box of matches

And what he knows you ain't had time to learn

These boots are made for walking.

And that's just what they'll do.

One of these days these boots are gonna walk all over you.

"Donald, I don't care if you do out-rank me. One of these days these good old army boots are going to kick you in the ass." Margaret said, and then she turned on her heels and walked out, but not before grinning at Hawkeye's thumbs up.

Author's Note: Hehe again. Tell me that song didn't remind you of Margaret and Donald. Review if ya got the time. I always luv hearing opinions.