Disclaimer: Once again, I do not own anything to do with any TV shows, including MASH, except for a couple seasons on DVD, and this story. No copyright infringement is intended. (Wow, doesn't that sound professional?) Oh, um, 1 other thing. I may use a couple of lines out of songs in here, but I really couldn't tell you what they're called or who sings them.

Author's note: Hmmm...there was only supposed to be one chapter to this story, but a bunch of people reviewed and asked me to continue the story...so here goes nothing. Sara

Hawkeye awoke the next morning to find his arms empty. He was silent for a moment, straining to hear the familiar sound of Margaret throwing up in the bathroom. It didn't come. Oh Yeah! She was past that point. Actually, like, 2 months past that point. Wow, was he ever dumb in the mornings. He rolled over so that he was laying on his back and looked around the room. She definitely wasn't in here with him. He groaned and rolled out of bed, hearing the sound of the busy street right outside his window in downtown Portland. He hoped he wasn't late for work. No, Margaret definitely would have woken him. He looked at the alarm clock on the bed-side table. He still had 2 hours to get to work. He pulled on his bathrobe and walked into the bathroom, climbing into the shower. His shower was quick, and he was soon out and changed into his clothes for the day. He shaved in the bathroom mirror, then strolled into the small kitchen.

Even with him as a surgeon here, they hadn't been able to rent a huge apartment, and they would have to find a bigger place after the baby was born. They had been talking about it, but Margaret wanted to wait until after she could go back to work. The baby could be a year old by then, but he had decided to pick his battles and at least wait until after it was born to worry about it. They could definitely afford a bigger place now, but for whatever reason Margaret just didn't want to leave. Hawkeye chalked it up to her hormones, which, as a side note, were driving him up the wall. As he entered the kitchen, he saw her. She was sitting at the table reading the newspaper. She was wearing a light cotton dress that would be chilly for the October air outside, but was fine indoors. It showed off her swollen abdomen perfectly. She was eating a piece of toast with brown sugar and honey on it, a favourite since she started getting cravings., and drinking a cup of coffee. She had her mug in one hand, and the other absently rubbed her stomach. Her bangs hung in her face, and the rest of her hair flowed loose down her back. Hawkeye stopped, and his breath caught in his throat as he watched her. She always seemed to be able to steal his heart again in moments like these, just when he thought he couldn't love her any more. She noticed him there, and looked up at him with a grin on her face. He grinned back at her, then crossed the room to give her a quick kiss before grabbing a cup of coffee and sitting down across from her.

"So, what are you doing today?" he asked her.

"I'm not sure. I'll probably just hang out here and do some laundry. You need to eat something." she said, not even looking up from her paper.

"Yes ma'am." he said with a laugh, standing up and throwing a piece of bread in the toaster. "Laundry, eh? Sounds exciting."

"Yeah, well, it has to be done sometime." she said, taking another sip of her coffee and finishing her breakfast. He took his seat again, starting on his own breakfast.

"Do you always look so pretty for doing laundry?" he asked.

"WHAT?" she asked, shocked. "What are you talking about! I'm not even wearing makeup!" She got up from the table and took her dishes over to the sink, filling it with soapy water and starting on the dishes. He quickly finished his toast and joined her in front of the sink, wrapping her arms around her from behind.

"I don't know what it is, but you look especially beautiful today." he whispered into her ear, kissing her cheek gently.

"Hawk..." she started, but apparently didn't know how to take that, and continued with, "Don't do that. My hands are all soapy."

"What does that have to do with anything?" he asked, but from the look he got he decided that wasn't a good question and he simply said, "I'll dry."

"So," she said after a moment, "Do you have anything scheduled for today?"

"Only one c-section. The rest is all paperwork, and any emergency work."

"Oh yippee. Paperwork. Now you finally get to see how I felt in Korea." she said, trying to keep it light. The mood in the room still sobered, however, from the mere mention of Korea. They both had gotten over their Korea-phobia since their return, and since they had to acknowledge that the war was the only reason they were together, but they still didn't enjoy taking about it. They finished the dishes in silence, and Hawkeye helped her tidy up the kitchen, before making his way to the living room. He sat down on the couch and watched Margaret walking around the apartment, starting her daily routine of cleaning up his messes. She was a clean freak, and he hated it. But then again, he was very messy, and she hated it. They had both had to get over some of their pet peeves in order to be together, but it was worth it.

"Margaret," he said when she came into the room, "Stop it. Come here."

"What?" she asked, looking confused. She stood in the middle of the room, a feather duster in one hand and a pair of his slippers in the other.

"I said stop it. I've got an hour before I have to leave, and I want to spend it with my wife. Come sit with me."

"Why are you like this today?" she asked, but she put the stuff down on the coffee table and came to sit on the couch beside him.

"Like what?" he asked, opening his arms to her. She snuggled in against him and enjoyed the feel of his warm body pressed against hers.

"I don't know...it's not exactly romantic, but you have been really...touch feely...or something. I don't know." she said, laying her head on his chest and deciding that she didn't care what it was because she liked it.

"I'm not sure. Why, would you like me to stop?" he asked.

"No. I like it. We only have a few more months together alone, so we'd better enjoy it while we can." she said. It wasn't that she wasn't looking forward to the baby's birth, but she would miss moments like this with Hawkeye. As soon as she mentioned the baby, one of his hands dropped to her abdomen, and their child gave a quick kick in response to his tender touch. She smiled and snuggled in closer to him, breathing in the scent of his aftershave. "You smell good." she said quietly.

"I was just thinking the same thing about your hair." he said, kissing her temple lightly. She smiled and closed her eyes, listening to his heartbeat. She couldn't help but think about one time, in Korea, when he had been so sick, and she had been so worried, that she stayed at his bedside for almost 2 days. She'd ended falling asleep with her head on his chest like this, and when she'd woken up in the middle of the night, she had hardly been able to hear it. It was strong now, and she said a silent prayer that it would stay like that for a long time.

"Margaret, do you know how much I love you?" he asked, not really expecting her to answer.

"Can you tell me?" she asked on the spur of the moment.

"Huh?"

"Can you tell me how much you love me?" she asked again. She felt pathetic asking, but she loved to hear him get all poetic and try to tell her about his feeling.

"I don't think I can. I can try........." he said, but he was silent for a few moments after that, thinking. "I can't tell you how much I love you, but I can tell you what I love you more than."

"Ok." she said with a grin, thinking that this might be funny.

"Here goes. I love you more than gin, more than any kind of alcohol actually. I love you more than practical jokes. I love you more than bed, and sleep, although you with me in bed asleep is great too. I love you more than coffee, more than my Hawaiian shirts, and more than a royal flush when there's 1000 bucks on the table."

"Thanks Hawk." she said with a grin, shaking her head slightly.

"No problem."

"I love you too."

Another Author's note: So, what did ya'll think. Should I continue, or trash the whole story? Any ideas about what I could call the story would be appreciated too. J Sara