The next few weeks were rough. Margaret found herself almost unwilling to get up each morning, wishing for all the world that she didn't have to get out of bed. That night in Post-Op when she and Hawkeye had realized how much they loved each other, when she had clung to him with such fierce desperation... that night had been on her mind ever since. She wanted to erase it, she thought, to banish it from her memory forever. Or... no, she supposed she didn't, not really. After all, the most wonderful man in the world had told her that the one good thing about the war was that they had met. There was something to be said for that. It was the next part of the memory that Margaret wanted to forget. The part where she realized that after the war, her relationship with this man would be over. He would go back to his life, she would go back to hers, and they would probably never see each other again. Margaret couldn't imagine living without him, but she also couldn't imagine that their love would last once she and Hawkeye left Korea.

It was thoughts like this that kept her awake at night, thoughts like this that made her dread getting up everyday. As much as she tried to fight it, her emotions had begun to take over her life. Her relationship with Hawkeye, even thought it was really the cause of her anxiety, was the only thing keeping her sane.

She loved the things he said to her. No matter how tired or upset she was feeling, he could always make her day a little brighter. She would trudge into the OR some mornings, low on sleep and low on energy, and he would know just what to say to make her smile. She couldn't remember any man talking to her like that before; any man she trusted, anyway. Plenty of guys over the years had told her she was beautiful, but when Hawkeye said it... she didn't just hear his words. She felt them. He made her feel beautiful, and she loved it.

Margaret rolled over in bed and ran her fingers through her hair. Just thinking about Hawkeye sent a tingle up her spine. He was so... she wasn't sure there was a single word that could describe him. Thoughtful? Funny? Handsome? The list of possibilities could go on and on. She sighed. If only their relationship could last that long.

Half an hour later she was on her way to the mess tent. It had been another virtually sleepless night, and she needed a cup of coffee; something that passed for coffee, at least. She was almost to the canvas door when she felt two warm hands on her shoulders. Margaret smiled as they started to massage her back.

"Good morning," she whispered.

"Good morning, Major Houlihan," Hawkeye said playfully. "And how are we doing today?"

She yawned. "A little tired. More than a little, actually."

"Aww." He tugged at her shoulders, and she let him slowly turn her around until they were facing each other. She almost laughed at the clownish frown on his face. "I think I might have just the thing to make you feel better."

She grinned sleepily. "Oh? Are you a doctor?"

He smirked. "We'll see." Tenderly, he reached his hand out, cupping her cheek with his fingertips. She closed her eyes, and he drew her in for a gentle kiss.

When they broke apart, Margaret had to try hard to conceal her disappointment. Moments like this made her want to stay with Hawkeye forever, to live with him and breathe with him for the rest of her life. But moments like this were also reminders of the heartbreaking way she envisioned their future. The real future, not the one she wished for in her dreams. She wasn't sure how much longer she could go on like this. To love this man so much and then to lose him... Margaret didn't know if that was something she could bear.

"Hey," Hawkeye said softly, and she realized that she had been standing there, silent, for several minutes. She blushed.

"I'm sorry. I was just... thinking."

He nodded. "The way you were when I... when I found you three weeks ago in Post-Op?"

She shrugged. "Kind of like that." She was afraid to tell him what was really on her mind. These last days had been so wonderful, and she knew that he thought of them as a couple. She wanted to think that way, too, but something had been holding her back. She had tried to pinpoint it so many times, but so far she had been unsuccessful.

"You've got that look on your face again," he whispered.

She frowned. "What look?"

Hawkeye smiled slightly and laced his fingers through hers. "I don't know. That wistful look. You just look so... sad, sometimes. Is there anything I can do?"

Margaret shook her head, squeezing his hand in what she hoped was a comforting way. She would have to tell him what she was thinking at some point, but not right now. She smiled. "Let's go get some coffee."

By nine o' clock that evening she was ready to collapse. The first casualties had poured in around eight thirty in the morning, and they had been working nonstop ever since. Somebody had mentioned that they hadn't been busy like that for three weeks, and it was true. Three weeks; Margaret felt a painful ache in her heart when she remembered the young soldier that had died three weeks ago, the way she had begun to fall apart three weeks ago, the way she had felt when Hawkeye had first held her so close... three weeks ago. Since that fateful evening, she and Hawkeye had grown closer than she had ever thought was possible. He had admitted that he had always loved her, even when he knew that she wouldn't have wanted him to. Margaret wondered if it was possible for her to fall any deeper in love. She doubted that it was.

But there was still that awful feeling in the pit of her stomach. That twinge of... was it regret? There was nothing to regret, she knew that, but there was still a part of her that wished that she had never let herself get lost in Hawkeye's deep blue eyes. If she didn't allow herself to become attached to him, there would be no heartbreak when they inevitably split apart. It seemed like such a perfect solution. So easy, too; after all, she had been behaving like that all her life. It had taken Margaret awhile to realize that this time it wouldn't be so easy. She was attached to Hawkeye. She had been for a long time, and there was nothing she could do to change that.

She was slowly making her way back to her tent that night when she heard him calling her name. The sound of his voice made her stop dead, and she sighed. What had she been thinking when she'd imagined that she could simply stop herself from falling in love with him? Even the way he said her name made her heart beat faster. Margaret shook her head. She was a hopeless case.

"Margaret." He said it again, and it was all she could do to stay steady on her feet. She smiled weakly as he walked over to where she stood.

"Hey," he said, wrapping his arms around her. She didn't answer. For the moment, holding him was enough.

He planted a kiss in her hair, and she could almost feel his smile. "How are ya?"

She shut her eyes and held onto him tighter, breathing in his scent. She was vaguely aware that he had asked her a question, but she didn't respond. Words didn't matter sometimes. The feeling of his body pressed up against hers meant so much more than anything either of them could say.

"Margaret?" he whispered. He sounded a little concerned; she hadn't said anything yet.

She opened her eyes, quietly admiring the cool night sky. "Hmm?"

"You okay?"

She smiled, turning her gaze to meet his eyes. "Yeah."

Hawkeye yawned. "I'm pretty beat."

"So am I."

"Maybe so, but on you it doesn't show." Margaret grinned, and he leaned his face into hers. Their lips met, and he wrapped his arm around her waist.

"I love you, you know," he said softly.

She nodded, salty tears suddenly stinging her eyes. In a slightly shaky voice, she whispered her answer. "I love you, too."