Hawkeye breezed through the doors into Colonel Potter's office. Klinger was seated in front of Colonel Potter dressed in a woman's bathing suit. Hawkeye shuddered and moved towards the filing cabinet. He bent over and began to quickly leaf through the files.

"Pierce, what do you think you're doing?" Hawkeye ignored him and continued searching for the elusive file. Colonel Potter stood up to complain but Klinger stepped in front of him.

"Sir what about the race?" he asked. Potter cringed at Klinger's outfit and was shortly distracted away from Hawkeye.

"What race?" As Klinger droned on about his latest idea for a discharge Hawkeye found the file he was looking for and quickly opened it. His eyes flicked over it momentarily, he smiled, quickly placed it back in its place, and then waltzed out of the office before Potter had a chance to say anything.

Hawkeye strode quickly back to his tent and grabbed a sheet of paper and a pen and began to write. Dad, Hey I need you to do me a favor…

Two weeks later Margaret sat in her tent sulking; desperately wishing she had something entertaining to do. She heard a truck pull up and she jumped up hoping they might be getting some mail. She hurried over to the truck and collided with Hawkeye.

He conveniently left his arms around her waist and smiled. "Well hey there Hot Lips." He greeted. Margaret glared hatefully at him and walked to the front of the truck.

"Do you have any mail?" she asked the driver. The man nodded.

"Yeah we've got a few bags, some mysterious crate too." Margaret smiled happily and walked to the back of the truck. Radar signed for the mail and began haul the bags into his office. Margaret and Hawkeye both trailed after him like eager puppies.

"Is there something you sirs are expecting?" Radar asked while watching them suspiciously. The two officers glanced at each other nervously and shook their heads in the negative. Not quite believing them, Radar walked back outside to the crate.

"Uh Cap'n Pierce this one is yours." Hawkeye smiled triumphantly.

"Thanks Radar, can you have a couple of guys take it to the supply shed for me?"

"Sure, no problem." Hawkeye smiled his thanks and Margaret watched disappointedly as he walked back to the swamp.

"Stupid mail service," she muttered angrily before stomping off to her tent.

Hawkeye snuck off to the supply shed making sure no one was watching. He closed the door tightly behind him and slid a stack of heavy boxes in front of the door to make sure no one could enter unexpectedly. He eagerly picked up a hammer and began to pry the lid of off the crate. Sitting at the top of the box was a letter and Hawkeye happily began to read it.

Ben, I hope this gets there on time, I sent everything the same day I received your letter. I was not too sure on the dress so I had Maria help me to pick it. I am sure the food will be to your satisfaction. I love you and miss you, Dad.

Hawkeye smiled and pulled out several large wads of newspaper. Finally, he felt the large metal box inside and he struggled to pull it out. He managed to lift it up but right as he was setting it on the table the table folded up, sending the box crashing into a shelf.

"You got a nurse in that crate Hawk?" BJ's voice caused Hawkeye to jump and then glare towards the door.

"I'll let you know," was his sarcastic reply.

Margaret began to walk back to her tent after a long stretch in post-op. As an afterthought, she stopped in front of the office and walked inside.

"Corporal, where's my mail?" She asked Radar curiously, she had been expecting him to bring her mail to her in post-op.

"Oh, uh, you didn't get anything sir." The boy replied nervously.

"Nothing?" she echoed incredulously. Radar nodded and tried to busy himself with some papers to avoid Margaret's angry gaze. She stormed out of the office and headed towards her tent. Much to her annoyance, Frank was waiting for her when she arrived.

"Frank step away from my door." She commanded coldly.

"Angel I just wanted to give you these flowers." He whined while handing her a bunch of wildflowers. Margaret softened slightly, as annoying as Frank was he could be sweet. Margaret accepted the flowers and then Frank thrust another package towards her.

"What is this for?" she asked suspiciously.

"It's for your birthday pumpkin; I wanted to give you something special."

"Frank you remembered!" Margaret was practically glowing. All thoughts of his cruelty and snake-like character faded from her memory. More than anything, she wanted to feel special, and cared for. Frank practically drooled over her every movement, so who was she to complain?

Margaret excitedly opened her gift and pulled out a sheer, dressing gown. "Oh Frank it's beautiful," she gushed.

Frank smiled in satisfaction and Margaret opened her door to let him in.

"Major Houlihan!" Margaret groaned in annoyance as Able hurried over to her. "I wanted to report a missing item and Colonel Potter told me to speak with you."

Margaret sighed and nodded. "What did you lose?" she asked sharply.

"I didn't lose it," she stammered. "It was in my foot locker…"

"Look I don't see why you have to bother us," Frank said in annoyance. "If you lose some of your clothes don't blame it on other people, just look for it yourself!"

Able and Margaret both looked at Frank suspiciously. "How do you know she's missing clothing Frank?" Margaret's eyes turned a steely grey as she turned to face the shaking Ferret.

"Well I don't, I just thought…"

"Shut up Frank!" she ordered. Frank watched helplessly as Margaret handed Able her "birthday gift".

"Is this what you were missing Lieutenant?" Able's eyes widened, but quickly narrowed again as she glared at Frank. So what if he was her superior officer? The guy was a freak and a total loser. Now he is stealing clothing to give to his girlfriend?

Frank laughed nervously. "Well isn't that a coincidence?" Both women remained silent. Margaret was turning red with furry and the embarrassment of being given a stolen gift.

Frank nervously licked his lips and hurriedly stated that he had "business to attend to" and rushed off to the safety of the swamp. Able watched in amazement as Margaret cooled off and mumbled an apology to her about the dressing gown.

Margaret could not believe what Frank had just tried to pull.

"Asshole," she mumbled as she walked inside her tent, throwing her flowers on the ground as she went.