He thinks about her often. He can see the way she watches the mail, waiting for a word from the man she has given her heart to. He doesn't want to wait around for the disappointment in her eyes when her name isn't called, but he does.
It must be the machoist side of him that he wants to share her pain. He wants so much to go to her and shed this darkness inside him if only for awhile in her arms. He doesn't know if he is afraid to tempt her or taint her.
It ends spectacularly of course; another casualty of the war. Her hands shake as she holds her divorce papers. In a way it is a relief but it is also another failure and they are beginning to stack up against her more and more. She's not sure if she is angry at herself for falling for one man obviously so wrong for her or for marrying another man to try to take his place.
After her return from Tokyo, they had ceased their dance in unspoken agreement. That night in the hut, they had fallen into one another again. The shelling, coupled with the 'Darlene' letter broke down any reserves she had. The way he eagerly pulled her to him told her he was at a breaking point too. There are some things you just shouldn't fight and this seems to be one of them.
This time the music feels different and the dance steps more intricate. He skirts the line of sanity dangerously close to the tipping point and there are times she is nervous around him. But then again she realizes as he pulls his olive green shirt over skin marked and remarked with her nails and teeth that she is skirting the line too. She just hides it better.
Trapper never paid much attention to the dynamics between the Chief Surgeon and Head Nurse. He was too busy chasing the other nurses to care what his competition, albeit friendly, was up too. BJ has no such hobbies to keep him busy.
"My, my, Margaret," BJ's friendly voice intones when she enters the scrub room. It's just the two of them for the moment as the other surgeons are busy elsewhere. She gives him a questioning look.
He gives her a gentle smile as he glances at her neck where a faint mark remains. She can't wear her turtleneck in the OR so a simple shirt has to do.
"Seems you've been busy." He explains as he scrubs his hands.
She tenses and freezes. She never has been good with private matters and despises the way she can't just roll with it like Hawkeye would.
"Who's the lucky man?" he asks as he stands up and shakes the water off his hands.
"None of your business Captain." She hisses at him. Her eyes stare daggers at him and she hopes he won't call her bluff.
He gives her a large smile and shrugs. "Of course, Major," before sliding through the doors to the OR.
A few hours into the session she is assisting Hawkeye on a chest case. The chatter in the OR has been nominal so far and he is glad of it. He doesn't feel quite settled yet and the normal easy rhythm of patching kids back together eludes him. Looking over at Margaret, he can see the tension on her face. For a moment he is taken aback. Could she be uneasy having to work with him?
Whatever they are to each other, and he tries to not think about what that could be, they are professionals who work together beautifully. Has he ruined that because he lacks a healthy way of dealing with his darker emotions?
He knows she deserves better. He has always firmly believed that she deserved more than Frank Burns, or Donald Penobscott, or any of the military brass she left in her wake as she marched through the Asian theater. She deserves more than he can give her too.
However, he knows that she, like him, is getting something she needs from what they share. The marks they leave on each other speak more about their collective state of mind than even Sydney could decipher. How he manages to leave this out of his therapy sessions he doesn't know but he wonders if on some level Sydney has already figured it out.
Everyone has a way to cope with the war, Sydney says, but surely by now the psychiatrist can see that the drinking and carousing are more fronts than anything to hide the real coping mechanism Hawkeye keeps under wraps.
BJ, too, is beginning to notice something is amiss. While Hawkeye talks a big game, there is very little playing on the court to back it up. He flirts. He mingles but he stopped crossing that line a long time ago. In a way, he flirts with the other nurses just because he can't flirt openly with her. He often wonders what she would do if he did just that and really pursued her like a man should pursue a woman.
"Is Margaret seeing anybody?" BJ asks offhandedly as he takes his seat beside him on the bench.
Hawkeye nearly chokes on his powdered eggs at the boldness of his bunkmate's question.
Col Potter holds his coffee and stares thoughtfully out the screened walls of the Mess Tent where he is seated across from them. "She hasn't taken R&R for some time."
"Really, Hunnycut" intones Charles, seated beside Potter, "taking an interest in gossip about our delightful Head Nurse?"
He tries to not glare at the way Charles' voice sounds when speaking about her. On some level he feels that the Boston native is drawn to his blonde Major.
The blonde Major, he amends in his head.
"Eh, just seen something that caught my eye." BJ throws out there, with a careless shrug.
"She has been divorced for some time," Potter reflects. Hawkeye's stomach clenches at the look of fatherly concern in the older man's eyes.
"So what exactly did you see that was so intriguing, Hunnycut? " Charles prompts.
He grits his teeth. He can see the gleam of curiosity and a hint of jealousy in the other man's eyes.
BJ gives one of his enigmatic smiles. "Just a little love bite."
And there it is: this thing they have kept hidden for so long just tossed out there in the open.
The eyebrows of both men rise in surprise and he can see the wheels turning in their heads as they bring up the last image they had of Margaret and what they overlooked that the younger man has seen.
After several minutes of silence, Charles speaks, "She must be working hard to hide it." His voice is softer now and Hawkeye feels a glimmer of hope that perhaps they will respect her privacy and leave it be.
Potter nods decisively beside him."Agreed. Margaret is a grown woman and can look after herself. Let's just hope this new fella knows how special she is and treats her the way she deserves to be treated."There is that fatherly tone again. "Still," he continues with a hint of steel in his voice, "it's not like her to hide these things either. If she was carrying on with someone, surely we would have heard something about it by now."
They take a moment to soak this in.
"Hunnycut," Charles breaks the silence, "Did she say anything to you about it?"
"She got angry." BJ replies. "Told me it was none of my business."
They consider this new bit of information. Each man's train of thoughts are different from the other: Potter feels concern for his pseudo-daughter, Charles wonders in a vague way how this new beau compares to him, BJ is just curious to solve this little puzzle, and Hawkeye is…uncharacteristically silent.
Slowly, the gears slide into place as each man in turn directs his eyes to the Chief Surgeon. They watch him for a moment, weighing what they know against what they think they know.
"You haven't said much about this, Pierce." Charles says quietly.
Years of poker and meatball surgery while under fire have helped him keep some things from showing and for that he is thankful.
"Oh, I learned a long time ago to stay out of Hot Lips' love life." He says dismissively. "She hits a bit too hard for my delicate sensibilities." He gives them a smile.
They watch him a bit longer but one by one begin to slowly mirror his smile. Hawkeye and Margaret are known for their arguments, whether they happen in the OR, the Mess Tent, or Post Op and this thing that they have has not tempered it. Whatever they have going on with each other does not change the people that they are in front of the others. It is nearly unthinkable for two people that could push each other so far in public to be able to have anything they could keep private.
The irony is that it is in private where they work off those volatile emotions and are able to maintain their professional relationship. The others underestimate their ability to keep quiet like this. He is both disappointed and relieved in this regard because, anymore, Hawkeye isn't sure if it is a good thing that it remains hidden but he's also not ready for it to come out in the light. This thing, whatever it is, is so secret, that they don't even speak of it to each other.
The next few days are a whirlwind of marathon OR sessions and periodic shelling. Nearby villages are hit hard and the wounded make their way to the 4077. Piecing together 18yr old soldiers is difficult enough for the toughest of surgeons but it is nothing compared with trying to put back together the little children that come to them now.
Margaret and he work like the strong surgical team that they are known to be, carving hope out of despair. He can feel eyes trailing their every move though as the other men watch closer now, having been keyed in by his best friend's ill-timed observation.
He chances a glance at her throat and can see the tell-tale mark he left. He reprimands himself and makes a resolution to be more careful. He already stopped taking showers the same time BJ did so he didn't have to bare the scrutiny of the scratches on his back and arms, even the occasional nip from her. It draws a smile to his face thinking of how intense she is in bed.
"Something funny, Hawk? " BJ asks as he deftly sews a nicked artery shut.
This draws the attention of the other two doctors and Margaret as well.
He shakes his head, calling "Suction" and avoids the conversation.
Margaret is passing by the nurses' tent when she can't help but hear their squealing and giggling.
"I tell you he's hiding something for sure!" She hears one of them say over the others.
"How can you tell?" another one asks with laughter in her voice.
"He's not been on a date with any of us for months!"
For a moment they all get quiet thinking about it. Margaret holds her breath and hopes Klinger doesn't come by on night patrol.
"Maybe he has a girl in one of the villages?" She hears one girl timidly offer up.
"No," another one says confidently. "That's not Hawkeye's style."
"Well, obviously he's been busy," Margaret cringes at the same words Hunnycut used with her.
"What do you mean?" one asks with a hint of fascination in her voice.
"I saw him changing in the scrub room." She pauses for dramatic effect." Whoever he's with is a wild one!"
"You were spying?" a voice accuses.
"No, not at all. I was walking by and could see him without his shirt on."
A collective gasp fills the tent.
"What did you see and don't leave out any details?"
Margaret can tell from the tone of the woman's voice that she adores having their rapt attention. Listening to the woman's descriptions, Margaret closes her eyes remembering in startling detail how each mark came to be and the passion that went with it. It brings a smile to her face.
The occasional bite mark is referred to as a "love bite" to the giggling nurses.
It is unknowingly more of Hunnycut's words thrown at them.
The tent is silent and for a moment Margaret worries she has been caught eavesdropping.
Then suddenly they erupt in chatter and speculation. Unable to stomach more of it, she turns away and retreats to her tent.
