Although beautiful, Hawaii was unbearably hot. The sticky humidity in the air caused Hawkeye Pierce to long for the more temperate climate on the shores of Maine. Recalling sweltering hot days in Korea, he could still feel the sweat and grime that had stuck to him like a second skin; and he could still taste the stale sweat that had trickled into his mouth every time he talked. Colonel Potter had said the nightmares and the memories would eventually fade. Until then, however, there was a memory around every corner. Surely, the nightmares would diminish the closer he got to Maine. Crabapple Cove was probably the farthest from Korea he could possibly get. There was nothing or no one in the small town that could possibly trigger the flashbacks from hell.

Glancing at his watch, Hawkeye checked the time and frowned. They'd be departing the island in a little less than an hour. His impromptu shopping trip had taken him longer than he expected. Once the plane had touched down, he had kissed Margaret goodbye and promised he'd be back soon. That had been more than a half hour ago. She was sure to be worried by now. The airport was not crowded; which Hawkeye was grateful for. It was sure to be easier to spot her in the smaller throng. Standing on his toes to add a little more height to his already towering frame, Hawkeye scanned the crowd for her blonde head. Unable to see her, he dropped his shopping bag by his feet and groaned while dropping himself onto the nearest bench to wait for her.

It was not surprising that she had ignored his order to wait there for him, Hawkeye mused. Margaret had never liked being told what to do by a man, especially a man that did not outrank her. Although his stint in the army was over, he still technically belonged to the army. As a major, Margaret outranked him; and she would continue to outrank him until either he received a promotion or his discharge papers. Therefore, she did not have to take orders from him. Until he held the piece of paper in his hand that declared him honorably discharged from the United States Army, she would not adhere to his wishes. Though knowing how long it took the army to process such things, Hawkeye feared he'd see colonel before he was discharged.

"Where have you been?!"

Hawkeye would know that piercing pterodactyl screech anywhere as he'd been the recipient of it one too many times to count. Sighing, he briefly closed his eyes, mentally preparing himself for what came next. Margaret Houlihan was tough, ambitious, and the most aggravating woman on the planet. She was not any easy person to love. Hence the revolving door of men that had come before him. Being married to her would not be an easy feat, but loving her was sure to be the cardiac workout of a lifetime-or cause him to go into cardiac arrest within the week.

Snapping his eyes open and taking a deep breath, Hawkeye glanced upwards. He could see the fire in her eyes and the grim line of her lips as she set her jaw. Her hands were her on her hips as she stared back at him, waiting for his answer. She was intimidating at 5'6 when she stood over him like that. Standing to his full height, a whole head taller than her, Hawkeye crossed his arms over his chest and raised his eyebrows as if questioning her. She wasn't so intimidating when she had to look up at him.

"Where was I?" he seethed, stressing the vowel. "Where were you?" He asked, louder this time, throwing her own question back at her. "I thought I told you to wait for me here!"

"You cannot order me around," she huffed defensively, crossing her arms over her chest. "I am your superior officer, Captain!" She bellowed, stressing the lower rank.

"I am your fiancé, Major!" he yelled back, taking a menacing step towards her.

"That doesn't mean you own me!" she shouted, stabbing a finger into his chest.

Swatting her hand away from him, Hawkeye took another menacing step towards her. Still, she did not budge. "For someone who worships the army, you have an awfully hard time following orders that you don't like."

"Just so you're aware, Benjamin Franklin," she spat his name angrily. "The world doesn't actually revolve around, as much as you want it to!"

"I never said it did!" Hawkeye yelled back at her.

"Ha," Margaret snorted, narrowing her eyes.

"Margaret!" he yelled her name, clenching his fists at his sides.

"You can't tell me what I can and can't do!"

"Margaret!"

"I may be a woman, buster!" she shouted at him, "but I am quite capable of making up my own mind." Poking her finger into his chest, she continued. "When I don't listen to what you or anyone else tells me to do, I actually have a damn good reason!"

"Margaret!" He screamed her name exasperatedly, grabbing her wrists and pinning them to her side. Shaking her wrists free from his powerful grip, she glowered at him. Her breathing was labored and intense as his was. His blue eyes were intense and focused as they stared into her own. Neither one was willing to back down from the fight. After a short while, Hawkeye slumped his shoulders and dropped his gaze in defeat. "We're getting married," he said, his voice not much louder than a whisper, as if he needed to remind himself of the fact.

Shaking her head, Margaret crossed her arms over her chest. "I don't have a ring," she reminded him, not ready to stop fighting.

"You said you didn't need one," Hawkeye reminded her with a dejected sigh.

"I lied," Margaret replied, a smug smile on her face.

Groaning, Hawkeye buried his face in hands after her last comment. As weary as he was from fighting, he was still angry. There was so much he wanted to fling back in her face. He had three years' worth of ammunition after all. But he couldn't bring himself to do it. He was already questioning her sincerity to marry him. Resurrecting ancient history was sure to send her walking away and out of his life forever. Taking a deep breath, Hawkeye dropped his hands to his sides and let them hang limp. As aggravating as she was, and as much as she drove him crazy, he meant every single word he said to her in Tokyo. Softening his hard expression, he let out a depressed sigh and held the shopping bag out to her as a peace offering. "I know it's not white and you didn't pick it out," he sheepishly admitted, looking down at his shoes, "but I was hoping you would wear it when we got married."

Her own expression softened as she looked up into his blue eyes, which were weary from fighting. "Thank you," she replied, her voice barely more than a whisper as she took the shopping bag from him. Opening the bag, Margaret looked at the dress he had bought for her. Running her fingers over the white sundress with a patterned print of red island flowers around it, she had to admit it was lovely. For a typical tourist souvenir, the dress was beautiful.

"It's yours," Hawkeye said, avoiding her gaze, "even if-"

He was cut off by the softness of her hand against his cheek. Closing her eyes, she placed a light kiss to his jaw. Stroking his cheek, she looked up into his eyes to see the weariness and the vulnerability he felt after their latest skirmish. "It's not going to be easy," she quietly admitted.

Leaning into her touch, Hawkeye touched his forehead to hers and said, "Nothing ever is for us."