"Rob, can you check the carrots, please," Margaret asked as she opened the oven door and pulled out a medium sized roasting pan.
"I think they're finished," Rob told her as he poked a carrot with a fork.
"Great," she acknowledged as she checked the roast. "Could you drain them and then mix in a little butter, salt and pepper?"
"As you wish, my lady." Rob bowed slightly and lifted the pot to do as she asked.
"You nut," she laughed as she returned the roast to the oven and focused her attention back on the gravy she was making.
"So, when are you guests arriving?" Rob asked curiously.
Glancing at the clock on the wall she noted it was five-to-five. "Any minute," she replied. "Rad...I mean Walter...I still have to get use to that. Walter called about three to say that an unexpected errand had come up and that they would be here later than originally expected. They figured they'd probably make it by five o'clock."
A knock at the front door announced the O'Reillys' arrival.
"Come in!" Margaret shouted loudly, unable to leave the gravy to get the door. Upon hearing the front door open she called out again, "In the kitchen! Just hang your coats in the closest there."
A few moments later Julia poked her head into the room. "I found her Walter," she called to her husband before entering the room. "I knew there had to be a person behind that voice."
"Smart alec," Margaret retorted, as she gave her new friend a warm smile. "Sorry I couldn't get the door, but I'm kind of stuck at my post."
"Well, your effort is well worth it, it smells wonderful in here," Julia assured her as she approached her hostess with Lucy in her arms. Giving Margaret a hug she asked, "Is there anything I can do?"
"Just make yourself at home," Margaret told her as she added some spices to her gravy. "Supper will be ready in a moment."
"Want me to put these on the table?" Rob asked as he held up the pot of lightly buttered and salt and peppered carrots.
"Put them in that blue serving bowl that's in the cupboard first, if you don't mind, Rob," she instructed, pointing to the cupboard in question.
"Yes, m'lady." He shot her a teasing smile as he moved to do as bidden.
Margaret laughed and tossed a potholder at him, hitting him squarely in the back of the head. "I told you to stop that."
He grinned mischievously back at her and when she turned back to her gravy immediately felt the potholder bounce off the back of her head.
Picking it up off the floor she sent him a mock-angry glare and warned, "You're gonna get it, Mallet," before dropping the potholder back on the counter and focusing her attention back to her gravy and Julia. "So how was the trip up?"
"It was good," Julia replied, sending an expectant look to Radar, who was now standing in the kitchen doorway, a slightly nervous look on his face.
"Walter, I didn't see you standing there!" Margaret greeted eagerly. She turned from the stove and moved to give her old friend a warm hug.
"Hold it, Margaret," Radar held up a hand to stop her before she could reach him. "There's something I need to tell you."
"What is it?" Margaret gave him a look of deep concern mixed with mild confusion.
After casting an uncertain glance to his left, he finally regained eye contact with her. "I hope you don't mind, but we brought another mouth for supper."
"I see," she said slowly, raising an eyebrow in surprise. "Do I at least know this mouth?"
"Yes, you do," Radar quickly assured her. "In fact, it's a mouth you're very well acquainted with." When Margaret's brow dipped into a frown he quickly amended, "I mean you two have exchanged many words over the years."
"And what kind of words did we exchange?" she asked curiously. "Kind words? Heated words? Idiotic words?"
"Knowing this mouth probably all of the above," Radar informed her mischievously. "Especially the last one since those type of words is its specialty."
"Hey!" A familiar voice exclaimed from somewhere out in the hall. "I strongly resent that!"
At the sound of the familiar voice Margaret's heart suddenly started to race. She opened her mouth to speak, but no words would come out at first. Finally, after swallowing hard a couple of times she got her tongue to work.
"Yes, I do believe that idiocy is this mouth's particular specialty."
"That's not its only specialty," the voice of the invisible man added, mischief evident in his tone.
Margaret felt her cheeks grow warm at the memory of one other thing that mouth was particularly good at doing.
"Hello? Is anybody still there? Radar, is she still there?"
"Yeah, she's still here," Radar told him. "But she has this funny look on her face though and her cheeks are kind of red."
That snapped Margaret out of her daze. "Okay you two, you've had your fun. Now get that mouth and the body it's attached to in here so I can greet them properly."
A hand suddenly appeared and gripped Radar's left shoulder tightly. "Oh no, Radar. She wants to greet the mouth and the body it's attached to. What do I do?"
Radar gave the owner of the hand a droll look and teased, "If you don't know that by now than I'm thoroughly ashamed of you."
"What a big help you are," the invisible man retorted in mock-annoyance. Then in a louder voice he called, "Okay, I'm coming out. Please note that I am unarmed."
"I promise not to shoot," Margaret replied, her entire body trembling with expectation.
"Good, because I'm using Radar as a shield." The hand tightened its grip on the shorter man's shoulder.
"Oh no you're not!" Radar objected as he peeled the hand off his shoulder. "You're on your own, pal."
"Some friend you are," the other man retorted as Radar moved out of reach. Heaving a dramatic sigh, he said. "Okay, I'm coming out." Slight shuffling could be heard in the hallway. "Here I come." Some more shuffling. "I'm almost there."
"Will you get in here already!" Margaret cried impatiently, her expectation reaching unbearable levels.
"All right, all right I'm here!" Hawkeye Pierce exclaimed as he stepped out into the open of the kitchen doorway. "There's no need to shout."
He'd barely gotten the words out before an excited cry emanated from Margaret as she threw herself into his arms.
"I think the lady's glad to see me," he commented to Julia and Radar, a delighted look on his face.
Ever since Hawkeye had heard from Radar the weekend before that he'd found Margaret, Hawkeye had been picturing this moment. When he had returned home from Korea almost two years ago, he'd felt that several important pieces of his life were missing. But then slowly as his closest Korean War comrades became part of his civilian life, those pieces began to fall back into place. Only one piece had remained lost, but now that missing piece had finally been returned to his life.
"Why didn't you tell me you were coming?" Margaret demanded as she pulled back just enough to look into his face. "I would have stocked up on gin and poker chips."
Hawkeye chuckled slightly. "I wanted to surprise you. You always look so beautiful when you're surprised."
"Flatterer!" Margaret blushed slightly, giving him a warm smile. "Well, it's just a good thing that I made a big dinner. Oh, no dinner!"
She pulled herself out of his arms and focused her attention back to the stove, fully expecting to find her gravy either burnt or boiling over. Fortunately, Rob was more on the ball than she was. He was gently stirring the gravy as it thickened, all the while watching her and Hawkeye carefully.
"Oh, Rob thank you." She gave him a grateful smile. "I'm glad somebody was paying attention."
"Happy to be of service," he told her, his tone a little cool.
Just like the rest of them, he had been thoroughly enjoying the playful bantering of Margaret, Radar, and the unknown visitor. The verbal sparring had been quite entertaining, and it helped Rob understand why Margaret missed her 4077th friends so much. There was a certain level of camaraderie about them that he had never seen Margaret exhibit with anyone else, not even him, and it was nice to witness. But the moment the visitor had stepped around the corner and Rob had been able to put a face to the voice he'd felt his heart break into pieces and when she'd thrown herself into the other man's arms his heart had completely shattered. He should have realized from Margaret's first blush who was standing just around the corner of the doorway. The only time Rob saw her face light up like that was when she talked about the illustrious Doctor Hawkeye Pierce.
"Rob, I'd like to introduce to you Walter and Julia O'Reilly and their daughter, Lucy." Margaret's voice drew him out of his musings.
"Nice to meet you," Rob acknowledged, shaking hands with Radar and giving Julia a warm smile.
"And this is Doctor Hawkeye Pierce, surgeon extraordinaire."
Rob flinched slightly at how her eyes sparkled as she looked at Hawkeye. Looking back to Rob she added in a stage whisper, "In his opinion anyway."
"Hey, if it wasn't for my wonderful surgical skills you wouldn't be sporting that beautiful appendectomy scar," Hawkeye teased mischievously.
"What scar?" Rob frowned slightly.
"Exactly," Hawkeye exclaimed, his eyes dancing with laughter. Margaret chuckled and finished the introductions.
"Hawk, this is a good friend of mine, Rob Mallet. He runs the local hardware store."
"Nice to meet you, Rob." Hawkeye extended his hand to the other man.
"Doctor," Rob acknowledged, shaking the offered hand, his expression very guarded.
Hawkeye noticed the other man's cool demeanor but decided not to comment on it. Instead, he rubbed his hands together and said, "Well, I don't know about the rest of you, but I'm starved. Suppertime was a long time ago in Maine."
"Oh, you poor starving boy!" Margaret exclaimed with mild sarcasm. "We can't have you dying of famine, now can we?" Opening the oven door, she pulled out the roasting pan.
"Yum, yum, yum!" Hawkeye exclaimed eagerly as the aroma of the roast hit his nose full force. "That smells wonderful!"
Grinning slightly Margaret teased, "Nice to know my food passes the Pierce Nasal Appraisal."
"With flying colors," Hawkeye commented, licking his lips expectantly. "I'm drooling."
"Down boy." Margaret laughed with amusement. After lifting the roast onto a plate, she held out a carving knife to him. "Here, make yourself useful."
"Now that's what I call a scalpel!" He teased as he moved closer to the roast and took the knife that she held out to him. "I'll try not to leave a bad scar. Speaking of scars..." He gave her an impish look out of the corner of his eye. "I really should check to make sure that yours is healing properly. I never did give you that checkup." He gave her a wicked grin.
"Forget about my scar and concentrate on carving," she warned with mock sternness. "I don't want Crabapple Cove suing me because one of their surgeons cut his fingers off while carving my roast."
"Well than stand back, I'm going in." After delicately cutting into one side of the roast he cried in mock-horror. "Suction, I can't see anything!"
Margaret laughed and slapped him lightly on the back of the head. "Careful!" He cautioned in a serious tone, "You're going to kill the patient."
Rolling her eyes Margaret looked at Rob and commented with obvious amusement, "Didn't I tell you that he was an idiot."
"Yes, I believe you did," Rob acknowledged his tone a little sad as he added, "And I think he's a few other things that you didn't tell me."
None of the other's seemed to notice the wistfulness in Rob's expression as he watched the 4077th's former Head Nurse and Chief Surgeon banter playfully back and forth.
"Remember when Klinger decided to 'redecorate' the office," Margaret commented to Hawkeye, causing the two of them to roar with laughter.
Looking at Radar Hawkeye said, "Your former room looked like an Arabian harem. He had the gaudiest of the gaudy: statues with clocks, beaded door coverings, Persian rugs..."
"Persian rugs?" Radar repeated in surprise. "I thought they were considered fashionable. Like something Major Winchester would have in his house."
"They are and he does," Margaret agreed, looking at Hawkeye who looked ready to burst. "But as Charles himself pointed out, they aren't generally used as walls!"
"Walls?" Radar waited expectantly.
"He used them to make walls around his bed," Hawkeye explained sending the three war vets into an explosion of amused laughter. Looking at Margaret he asked. "Did you hear what Klinger did after Potter told him to take everything down?"
When Margaret shook her head, he related, "BJ stumbled across him in the middle of the night practicing Colonel Potter's signature. After a little prompting, Klinger finally confessed his master plan: to get out of the Army by forging a letter from his mother, a priest and Colonel Potter all stating that the Klinger family would be destitute if he didn't return to them."
"He actually thought he'd get away with it?" Margaret exclaimed incredulously.
"Apparently so, because despite BJ's best effort at convincing him not to, the crazy idiot sent the whole kit and caboodle to I-Cor," Hawkeye told her.
"How did that stupid lout avoid being sent to Leavenworth?" She asked in amazement. "I-Cor would have been furious when they found out it wasn't real. Forget I-Cor, Colonel Potter would have been furious once he'd found out what that idiot had done."
"Well, I don't know how he did it, but Beej said Klinger came to him the next day in desperate need of the jeep that Beej had signed out because he had to get to I-Cor." Hawkeye shook his head slightly as he added, "I don't know how he got himself out of it, but he obviously did because his mail didn't have to be forwarded anywhere."
"That idiot." Margaret shook her head and chuckled. "What he wouldn't do to get out of the Army." Her laughter grew as another memory suddenly came to mind.
"What?" Both Hawkeye and Radar asked expectantly.
"Five words," she said to Hawkeye, holding up one hand as she counted off the words. "Klinger. Colonel Daniel Webster Tucker."
As soon as the words were off her lips Hawkeye exploded into riotous laughter. "'I want to get home to see my mummy'!" He quoted with gasping breath.
"I still can't believe he thought he'd get away with that!" Margaret commented tears of laughter rolling down her face.
"Hey, he was no more outrageous than we were when you think about it," Hawkeye said, his own laughter increasing. "I still can't forget the look on Tucker's face when I dumped that bucket of beer on him. It was priceless."
"Probably not as priceless as ours were when Tucker and Potter finally told us what was going on!" Margaret remarked in amusement. "I still can't believe we allowed ourselves to be gotten so good."
"I was so proud of you, Margaret," Hawkeye admitted honestly. "You reacted the way a true United States officer should who was threatened with a court-martial."
She gave him a wry smile. "Somehow I don't think my father would have agreed with you if he'd known what had happened."
"Wait a minute!" Radar exclaimed in disbelief. "You were almost court-martialed? I never thought you'd ever do anything that would get you a reprimand let alone a court-martial! What happened?"
"This guy happened." She jerked her thumb at Hawkeye, an amused smirk on her face. "It was about April Fools 1953..."
Between Margaret and Hawkeye, they filled Radar and the rest of their audience in on the events that had led up to the three Swamp rats and the camp's Head Nurse being threatened with a court-martial. Then they related the story about how the four of them had retaliated by dousing the hot-tempered Colonel with a bucket of beer. Soon their audience understood the reason behind Hawkeye and Margaret's deep amusement and was sharing in their laughter.
"I didn't realize that there were so many Regular Army officers who appreciated a good joke," Julia commented. "I always thought they were all serious and stuffed shirts."
"A lot of them are," Hawkeye assured her honestly. Glancing at Margaret he said wickedly, "Some wouldn't know a joke if it jumped up and bit them in the funny bone."
"Some jokes just aren't funny," she retorted back, a slight clip to her tone.
"I think it's just that you Houlihans are born without a sense of humor," Hawkeye told her crisply. "You need someone like yours truly to help you develop one."
"I did not need you to help me develop anything," she replied haughtily, glaring at him in annoyance. "I was doing just fine without you, thank you very much!"
"Yeah right!" The exclamation came from a third party and caused both Margaret and Hawkeye to jump and look at him in surprise.
"What's that supposed to mean?" Margaret demanded in annoyance.
"That Hawkeye had a lot to do with you developing a sense of humor," Radar told her bluntly, surprising both Margaret and Hawkeye, not to mention himself by his boldness. "Just like you had a lot to do with him developing more of an appreciation for women and relationships."
"What are you talking about?" Hawkeye asked in confusion. "I've always had a very healthy appreciation for women."
"For how they look, Hawk, but not for how they felt," his friend told him seriously. "Face it, you have both changed a lot since we first met in Korea. If you hadn't let's face it, none of us would be here right now."
"He's right," Margaret finally admitted, looking at Hawkeye seriously.
"I know he is," Hawkeye agreed with a nod. Looking at their younger friend he asked, "How did you get so smart?"
Radar blushed and shrugged. "Must have been from hanging around you sirs so much."
"Good answer," Hawkeye teased as the mood lightened. "But there was something you forgot to mention."
"What's that, Hawk?" Radar asked curiously.
"When you were saying that I only appreciated women for their looks, that wasn't one hundred percent accurate," The surgeon remarked seriously. "I did appreciate their beauty, yes, but I also admired their skills." Looking at Margaret he boasted proudly, "And sitting right here beside me is what I would call the epitome of a good nurse." Margaret blushed slightly as he continued, "For not only is she a sight for sore eyes, but she is also one of the most skilled nurses at bandaging and caring for those eyes that I have ever met. And don't forget I speak from experience."
"Can she also leap tall buildings in a single bound?" Rob asked, enjoying hearing Margaret's praises being sung.
As the evening had progressed, he had found his initial dislike and resentment of Hawkeye Pierce slowly slip away. The other man was proving to be very pleasant and fun-loving, not to mention intelligent, all qualities that Rob appreciated in a friend. But what was really helping to improve Rob's opinion of the dark-haired surgeon was the fact that he wasn't paying any undue attention to Margaret. He wasn't treating her any differently than he was Radar or any of the rest of them, except for the odd flirtatious remark he made towards her. But somehow Rob got the feeling that Hawkeye did that with every woman he knew. He'd even thrown the odd one to Julia, just to get Radar's goat. No, somehow the great Doctor Hawkeye Pierce didn't seem to be as much of a threat as Rob had first feared him to be.
"Of course, she can," Hawkeye told Rob, replying to his question eagerly. "But only as long as she's hanging onto me, which she does frequently. Back in Korea I couldn't get her to keep her hands off me." He expertly dodged her slap that had been directed at the back of his head.
"I don't know, Hawk," Radar commented seriously. "I think she's pretty 'super' on her own."
Hawkeye gave Radar a mischievous grin. "Why Radar, you little devil you. Flirting with Major Houlihan...in front of your wife no less." Clicking his tongue, he added proudly, "I taught you well."
"Cut that out!" Radar exclaimed in embarrassment. "I'm not flirting! I was only thinking back to some of the times in OR that Margaret had to do some pretty impressive stuff. Like remember the time all the other doctors were sick with the flu and you and Margaret had to run everything, with a little help from everyone else of course."
"Make that a lot of help!" Hawkeye quickly amended. "We couldn't have been able to pull it off without any one of you. We really appreciated how you all pulled together to help us get through. I think that was one of the worse sessions we had."
"But you have to admit, Hawk." Margaret shot Radar a teasing smile. "He did look awfully cute all dressed up in surgical scrubs."
"It was probably the first time he'd washed his hands since he'd come to camp," the surgeon joked, giving his friend a wicked smile.
"No, it wasn't!" Radar huffed, pretending to be upset. "I washed them once before that." Hawkeye and Margaret both laughed in surprise at his comment, both glad to see their friend finally able to laugh at himself.
"Those were definitely a few very stressful days," Margaret remarked after the laughter subsided, echoing Hawkeye's earlier comment.
"Ones I never want to repeat as long as I live," Hawkeye told her emphatically.
"Amen," she agreed. "Though I will say one thing, Margaret."
He looked at her seriously for a moment. "That ordeal made me appreciate just how talented you are."
Margaret gave him a warm smile as he reached out and took her hand.
Giving it a squeeze, he added, "I think it was then that I realized that you were my favorite officer in the whole United States Army." Looking into her eyes he softly added, "And you still are."
"Oh, Hawkeye." She lifted her arms and slipped them around his neck, hugging him tightly to her. "You were one of my favorites too."
They hugged each other for several moments until Hawkeye glanced at Radar over Margaret's shoulder and teased mischievously.
"See Radar, I know how to make women feel good." This time he wasn't able to duck the slap Margaret directed to the back of his head.
Margaret tiptoed down the stairs, trying to be careful not to wake anyone in the house. It had been a very busy day, and everyone had fallen asleep almost instantly from exhaustion. Everyone that is, except her. She was finding it very hard to get her whirling mind to let her tired body to sleep. She was just grateful that she didn't have to work the next day. She didn't know if she'd be up for it, either mentally or physically.
The last two days had been absolutely wonderful. In a lot of ways, it felt like old times. Saturday morning, she, Hawkeye, and Radar had sat around her kitchen table drinking coffee and talking about everything under the sun. Times both old and new. It had just felt so right being with them and Margaret once again kicked herself for losing touch with these people. She knew that the level of comfort and companionship that she felt with these ones was something that she'd never find anywhere else, no matter how hard she tried. Even her friendship with Rob didn't even come close to the friendship she had with even Radar. For even though she and Radar hadn't been buddy-buddy in Korea, they still shared an experience that few other's that she knew had. The experience of not only being part of the Korea conflict, but of being part of a very unique part of it - the 4077th MASH. After glancing towards the living room where Hawkeye was sleeping, she slipped into the kitchen to make herself a cup of warm milk.
As she stood at the stove, slowly stirring the milk she let her mind go back over the events of the day. They had started with a home cooked breakfast made by Hawkeye: French toast, bacon and fresh squeezed orange juice. Margaret was surprised to discover what a good cook he was. After a leisurely breakfast they had all piled into Margaret's car and gone for a drive around the town and the surrounding countryside. It had been a day full of fun and none of them had wanted it to end. Finally, they had come back to town and had supper at Marty's, where Margaret had proudly introduced her old friends to Marty and Bess.
Marty had raised an eyebrow curiously when Margaret had introduced Hawkeye. He'd heard his name several times in the last few months and was eager to finally put a face to the name. Shortly after they'd gotten there Rob had come in and joined them. Margaret was delighted that he'd fit in so well with her friends. It seemed to help affirm that her Korean friends could assimilate themselves easily into her civilian life. It made her wonder for a moment just how much they could become a part of her life. She started picturing taking trips with Radar and Julia to visit the Potters; having BJ and Peg visit for a couple of weeks during the summer; of going to Maine and visiting Hawkeye, maybe taking moonlit strolls along the beaches of Crabapple Cove. She blushed as her thoughts suddenly carried her even further than just strolling.
"Can't sleep?" Margaret yelped slightly and jumped as Hawkeye's voice broke through her thoughts.
Turning she found him leaning casually against the doorframe of the kitchen. "Pierce, don't do that!"
"Do what?" He asked innocently as he came up and stood beside her. "All I did was ask a simple question."
"You scared me out of my wits," she complained, whacking him with a tea towel. "You could have given me a heart attack."
"Well, it's a good job I'm a doctor then, isn't it?" He teased, giving her a bright smile.
Margaret returned his smile and asked, "Do you want some warm milk?"
"Sure." He nodded. He leaned against the cupboard as she added some more milk to the saucepan. "So, are you enjoying living in Montana?"
"Yes, I am actually," she told him. "I must admit I was a little nervous about it at first, but I'm really enjoying it now. Rawlins is a nice town, and the people are very friendly. Very much how I've always pictured Crabapple Cove."
She blushed at her admission and focused her attention back on the milk she was carefully stirring.
Hawkeye noticed the flush but didn't comment on it. "It is very much like Crabapple Cove, except for the fact that you can't see the ocean."
"I'd like to see the ocean," Margaret told him, then flushed again as she realized how that sounded.
"I'd like to show you the ocean," he whispered, his eyes looking at her with an odd expression in their blue depths.
Margaret felt her heart start to speed up as she stared back at him. She'd never really noticed how blue his eyes were before, or how deep they seemed to go. The more she looked into them the closer she felt pulled towards him. She finally managed to drop her gaze, but now she found herself staring at his mouth, which seemed to be inching closer and closer to her own.
"Margaret," he whispered softly.
"Yes," she whispered back, closing her eyes as she waited expectantly for his kiss.
The sound of milk boiling over snapped them both back to attention.
"Oh, no!" she exclaimed as she quickly snatched up the pot, trying her best to save the milk from being totally burned. "What a mess."
"Why don't you pour the milk into the cups and I'll clean up the stove," he volunteered, picking up the dishcloth and cleaning up the milky mess.
"Thanks," she acknowledged, actually feeling grateful for the distraction. Carrying the pot to the sink she poured the milk into two large mugs. "I'm not usually so clumsy when it comes to cooking. That's twice I almost burnt something this weekend."
"I guess I'm a hazard to have around when you're cooking," he commented teasingly as he finished wiping up the stove.
"I guess you are," she agreed, realizing that he had been the cause of both near burnings. "I'm just going to have to ban you from the kitchen when I'm cooking."
She blushed again when she realized how that sounded. Why couldn't she say anything to him anymore without it sounding like a come on?
Turning towards him she handed him a mug. "Here's you milk."
"Thanks." He accepted it with a smile. Then looking around he gestured to the table. "Shall we sit?"
The two of them sat down at the kitchen table and sipped their milk in silence for several minutes before Hawkeye spoke again. "So, how long have you known Rob?"
"About seven months," she replied, wrapping her hands around her mug, enjoying the warmth. "I met him at Marty's last September when I was there having supper. He's a nice guy."
"Is he a nice guy, nice guy or a nice guy, nice guy?" He asked curiously.
"He's just a friend," she assured him as she took another sip of her milk. "He would like to be more, but I'm not willingly to give him anymore."
"Oh, yeah?" Hawkeye raised an eyebrow expectantly.
"I like Rob, and he's been a really good friend these last few months, but I don't feel anything more for him than friendship." She stared at the steam rising from her mug for several moments before adding, "I know there's a special guy out there for me, but Rob just isn't it. And to tell you the truth I can't figure out why. I mean he's kind and caring and funny and sweet, but I just don't feel anything special when I'm around him. Even though he would fall all over himself to please me if I asked him to, I don't want that. I don't want him to treat me as anything more than a close friend."
"Well, don't worry, Margaret." He reached over and took her hand in his. "I have no doubt that there is a special guy out there for you and that when we meet him, you'll be swept off your feet."
"Maybe I will." She smiled, giving his hand a warm squeeze. "You know, Radar was right the other day when he said that you've had a lot of influence on me these last few years. You've helped me in so many ways, Hawkeye and I don't know how to thank you."
"I have a couple of ideas." He gave her a mischievous look.
"Should I be worried?" She asked, an expectant look on his face.
"Not at all," he promised. "I was just hoping that maybe you would be willing to write me when I get back to Crabapple Cove. I don't want to lose touch with you again."
"I'd like that," she admitted honestly. "It's been a long time since I've had a pen pal."
"Wonderful!" He exclaimed delightedly.
"What was the other thing?" She prompted curiously.
"The other thing?" He asked innocently.
"Yeah, the other idea you had," she pressed. When he gave her a mysterious grin she urged, "Come on, Hawk, out with it."
He paused for several moments, carefully examining her face. When he spoke, he sounded a little nervous, "You may think this sounds stupid, but I was noticing how you've been calling Radar 'Walter'."
Margaret nodded. "I started to do that to help us both feel more like friends instead of Corporal and Major."
"I know, Radar told me. He was very touched by the fact that you wanted to consider him a friend instead of a lowly Corporal," Hawkeye told her. Then after examining her face for another moment, he ventured, "I was hoping that you'd do the same for me."
"What do you mean?" She asked, a surprised look on her face. "I've been calling you by your name. I even called you by your first name when we were in Korea."
"No, you didn't." He shook his head. "In fact, hardly anybody calls me by my first name."
Margaret frowned for a moment until understanding finally dawned on her. "That's right. Hawkeye isn't your real name, it's Benjamin, isn't it?"
"That's right." Tightening his grip on her hand he asked, "Would you mind calling me 'Ben'?"
"Ben?" She repeated, trying the name on for size before she smiled. "I like it. It suits you."
"So do you," he whispered as he reached up and gently stroked her cheek.