"You and Major Houlihan seemed awfully close coming back from your walk," BJ remarked as Hawkeye entered the Swamp. "It was pure professionalism. I take all my patients for walks."

"You take all your patients to "Make Out Point?" he asked incredulously, looking up from Peg's latest letter.

"It was out of habit! She's a nurse. It's where I take all the nurses," Hawkeye explained

"You know Hawk, Margaret is getting married."

"And why should I care?"

"Because I think," he said as he sat up from his cot and looked straight at him, "you're falling in love with her."

"I am not. Major Houlihan? She has the body of a goddess, and she's the most incredible nurse I've ever met, but she has a major flaw."

"She does?"

"A fiancée."

Hawkeye kicked back with a martini, wondering what to do.

The next morning

"Good morning, Captain.'

"Good morning Major," he greeted her as he made his rounds. Without speaking, he got her vital statistics then got up to leave.

"Doctor?" she inquired.

"Yes?"

"When can I get back to my nurses?"

"I'll tell Potter to release you this afternoon."

"You're my doctor!"

"Not anymore Major. You're off my patient roster."

Margaret sank back in her bed, absolutely devastated. Pierce only bothered with his patient rosters when he couldn't stand his patient, which was close to never.

She spent the morning thinking of what she would like to say to him. As soon as Potter released her, she marched over to the Swamp where she would have a talk with that Captain. She marched right into his tent where he was shaving. "Is someone hurt?" he asked without looking at her.

"You owe me an explanation of why you took me off your roster, and it had better be good."

"I don't owe you anything. My work is my business. I don't tell you how to play nurse. Don't tell me how to play doctor," he said as he continued to run the blade down his chin.

"That's not an explanation," she seethed.

He wiped the remaining shaving cream off with a towel, and turned to look at her. "Fine I'll level with you. You're attractive, and heaven help me, I'm attracted to you. The best way to do that is if I keep as far away from you as possible. Are you satisfied?"

"No. I don't want you to stay away from me."

"What?"

"You're the Chief Surgeon, and I'm the Head Nurse. There has to be some line of communication open between us."

"I was hoping to forget about that."

He sat on his bed, and she sat next to him. "So why don't you want me to stay away? You're an engaged Major, and I'm a womanizing captain."

"I don't know."

"You don't love him do you?" he asked as he stood up and poured a martini

"No, but I have to marry him," she said as he handed her a glass

"Margaret, you don't have to do anything."

"Maybe in your eyes I don't. I'm a Colonel's daughter, and the army is my life. I'm not sure I would be comfortable doing anything but marrying a Lt. Colonel, and raising army brats. It's what my father expects."

"How do you know you'd be so uncomfortable with civilian life if you've never tried it?"

"The army is my life."

"The life your father wants for you. Have you ever stopped to think what you want Major?"

She stood up ready to walk out. "We're not having this conversation."

"Have you ever stopped to think that maybe you don't even want to be a nurse."

"Hold it right there Captain," she demanded pointing a finger at him. "I'm proud of what I do, and I'm good at it."

"Agreed," he said as he put his hands up in surrender and stretched out in his lounge chair. "Let's stop right here right now. We're getting angry at each other."

"It's what we do best," she admitted.

"Are you still going to marry him even though you don't love him?"

"Why are you so concerned about that?"

"I don't want to see you throw your heart away on someone who doesn't deserve it."

Hawkeye never broached the question again. If Margaret was going to marry Donald, she would. However as he heard less and less of her Colonel, she was hoping she would give it up. The months passed. One night when Colonel Potter had ordered a movie and it broke, they had a sing along.

"Some nurses in the army. They never tie the knot. But this one's gonna try it with Donald Penobscott," Margaret sang enthusiastically.

Hawkeye cheered and continued to sing with the rest, but he had been hoping that she had changed her mind.

Margaret looked in the mirror at herself in her wedding dress. She was her dream bride. She would be married to the perfect husband, and everything would be fine she tried to assure herself. There was a dreadfully cold feeling in her heart, but Major Houlihan could not afford to go with her heart. Her head was pointing her down the aisle.

There was a knock on her door. "Come in," she called, expecting to see Colonel Potter. Instead it was Captain Pierce who stood there. There was a long second as they looked at each other.

"Margaret, you look amazing," Hawkeye said.

"You really think so? The dress is a little –"

"No the dress is fine," he assured her.

"But that's not why you're here," she pointed out.

"No, um, Margaret, there's something you should know about your Lt. Colonel," he said. Margaret could see the smirk forming at the corners of his mouth.

"What is it?" she asked warily.

"Well," Hawkeye tried to straighten up, but whatever he was about to tell her he considered terribly funny. "Last night, we got a little drunk, and Donald broke both his legs."

"He broke both of his legs?"

"Both of them," he confirmed. "He's in a body cast that goes up to his chest."

"You're kidding," she accused him. Hawkeye ran out before Margaret could hit him. As he was getting away from her tent, he heard a huge pop. He turned just in time to see her fist withdraw from the new hole in her tent. 'She took it well,' he thought, as he hurried back to the mess tent and slid into his seat next to BJ.

She returned from her honeymoon to find that Frank had gone off the deep end. She wanted to be a fly on the wall when he was explaining to his wife what had happened. There was no way Louise would believe that they were "just platonic". How did a husband explain such insanity to his wife? That was one comfort she had. Donald would never cheat on her. His replacement, Dr. Winchester, was certainly going to be an improvement on the camp. She would have to make certain her nurses were rotated among him equally so they'd all have the chance to observe such a master at his craft.

"Dear Darlene," her letter read. Margaret fumed as she read it, realizing that everything she secretly suspected about her husband had been right. 'That scumbag,' she raged. This letter was much more romantic that the one he intended for her. "She's a sturdy woman," he had written. If she had him in front of her she would show him what sturdy meant. The problem was she'd have to patch him back up afterwards. Going with Hawkeye to demonstrate the new surgical procedure was looking better and better.

There were bombs everywhere, but it didn't matter to either of them. Lost, they took shelter at an abandoned hut. They awoke in the middle of the night, screaming at them to stop. Then he started kissing her, and she started to kiss him back. She was so hurt and scared, she needed to feel something else, and Pierce was offering it. Before they could get any further than kissing she pulled away. "We can't let this go any further," she said.

"Margaret, I wouldn't dream of it. I want my first time with you to be special. There should be candlelight and flowers. Or at least a semi dilapidated cot. You deserve more than this dirty floor."

The shelling stopped. They both sat back against a wall exhausted from the mix of terror and passion. "Margaret, that was simply heavenly," he joked.

"You rat," she said as she playfully jabbed him.

He put his arm around her, surprised that she cuddled in closer. Before they knew it they were kissing again. Hawkeye was going to let Margaret take the lead this time.

She was furious at herself for letting her guard down, and letting him get at her heart. They hadn't done anything to cause regrets, but it had gotten close. She should have expected Pierce to do nothing less then run away, in the daylight, as soon as it was convenient. What a rat! All men were rats. Pierce, Burns, her husband. Her anger again turned toward Donald and the perfect revenge. Once again safe in the camp and in her tent she started a letter. "Dear Hank"…

The final straw came when she was preparing to meet Donald for a weekend in Tokyo. She was humming to herself as she brushed her high heels. They would work out their problems, even if she had to get a transfer. First it was a telegram; he was reassigned for the weekend. She envied him getting to go home to the states, but was anxious to hear about it when they were together again. Then came the phone call that he had transferred permanently - at his request. Margaret had had enough, had suffered enough. It was painful admitting she had made a mistake, but at the same time she felt better than she had in months.

A few nights later she went to Officers Club, and got drunker than she could ever remember. She looked over and saw Pierce having a rowdy drink with Charles and BJ. This was the perfect time to make her move. She was lonely and he looked good. She stumbled back to her tent, doing everything in her power to make herself more alluring. She managed to put on makeup with a surprisingly steady hand, and splashed herself with perfume she had bought on the Ginza. Then she took off her wedding ring. There was no need for that anymore. She stumbled back to the Officer's Club, and sat right down in Pierces lap.