Chapter Five:

Like the measles, love is most dangerous when it comes late in life.-Lord Byron

"Just face it Bradley Cooper, I am not going to date you," Margaret sighed standing at the nurses station at the young fresh faced doctor who was more of a player than one Trapper John MacIntyre.

"And why not. We have so much in common!"

"Because I have a baby at home that needs my attention from the moment I walk in to the moment I walk out to come here," Margaret replied. "That, and Dr. Cooper, you're definitely not my type."

"Ah come on, it's just dinner."

"Sorry, but my dinners are spent trying to get all of my child's food in her mouth rather than on her clothes," Margaret said tapping the chest of the young doctor. "You're just too old for me."

"Just think about it!" he called as Margaret walked down the hallway. She had returned to work only a week ago, and Daisy was only four months old, but it was needed. Margaret needed to work to provide. She didn't have the luxury to stay home day and night for the rest of her child's life. Life wasn't like that, it wasn't that fair. Although to be honest, Margaret did not know if she would choose not to work. Working had been her whole life, since she could work. The choice wasn't clear.

"Cooper bugging you again?" Darlene asked as she turned around and looked at her co-worker.

"Never ending," Margaret rolled her eyes with a sigh as she sat down beside Darlene.

"Have you even considered?"

"No. It's not an option," Margaret sighed. "I come second, and I can tell you, Bradley Cooper is not father material."

"I understand," Darlene replied. "How is she anyway?"

"Good, growing every day, hates the three nights a week I work," Margaret replied. She had decided to take the night shifts, so that she would be gone while Daisy slept and wouldn't miss the biggest events in the child's life, when she was awake. Finding a babysitter to take night shifts was hard enough work, but Margaret had found a young woman in her apartment building who would spend the time in which she was at work studying and doing homework. Margaret would walk into the house at 1am at the latest, say goodnight to Sandra, feed Daisy, put her back to bed and would be in bed herself by 2am, and would feed and sleep again until Daisy woke up at 9am. 7 hour nights were the best she got when she had to work. She knew it wasn't going to last long, Daisy was a good girl, but she was like her father, in every way. "She doesn't stop laughing. She likes to throw things, just so that I have to pick it up and laughs."

"She's adorable," Darlene smiled softly.

"A sheer joy," Margaret replied, a soft smile playing on her lips.

"Sleeping through the night?"

"Not even close," Margaret laughed. "Although I haven't slept through the night in years." In truth, Margaret hadn't slept through the night since she returned to the states, nightmares plagued her. She saw children, wounded, dead eyes. Images that scared her soon became mixed with images of her child, and those scared her more. She knew, knew that nightmares were just a product of war, but they reminded her of things she didn't want to see again.

Walking into the apartment, Margaret looked at the young woman who was sitting on the couch, holding her daughter. "She woke up and wouldn't go back to sleep."

"She does that some nights," Margaret replied as she moved toward Sandra to retrieve the child. "Come here sweetheart," she whispered, taking the child who was half asleep into her arms. "Was she behaved?"

"Like a doll, as always," Sandra smiled. "I think it's just a bit of gas. She feels a little bit bloated."

"Her stomach does," Margaret replied. "How's your studies?"

"Good, we're heading into our practicum's in a week or so. I made sure that I have your days off," Sandra replied as she hung her bag over her shoulder.

"Thank you so much," she smiled. "I'll see you next week."

"You bet. Call if you need me," she said waving and leaving the apartment. Margaret looked down at Daisy who was beginning to fuss. "Oh is your belly full of gas?" Moving to the couch, Margaret sat down and positioned Daisy on her lap, as one hand moved to her stomach and began slowly rubbing it, in an attempt to let out the gas.

As Margaret looked at the little girl, she stared into her blue eyes that were Hawkeye's in every way shape and form. They held mischief, and laughter and sparkle, and they looked at her the same way he did that night, with love. She had the same laugh, as far as Margaret could tell from the days she spent playing with her little girl.

So many things crossed her mind as she looked into those eyes. Her future, what she'd be, who she'd be. If she'd be outgoing, smart, shy, interested in school, or would hate school, if she'd fall into medicine like her parents, or go onto something else. So many possibilities, and Margaret knew that, because it was the 50's, her little girl would have the world in front of her.

The question was, was she to be a little girl in Seattle, or would they move to New York to be with her cousins, or to Maine to be with her father. Each choice had its perks, and each had its downfall. The most obvious for the former two were her not being with her father, the latter was him not wanting her.

But that wasn't Hawkeye, he wasn't that kind of man, he was good, kind, she knew him. Knew that if he knew about Daisy, he'd do everything in his power to be her Daddy. Daddy, it was a word that Margaret never thought Daisy would have the chance to say, because no one, no one but Benjamin Franklin Peirce would ever be her father. No man in her life, would she let Daisy call "Daddy". Whether she would let someone else in her life, that was still up in the air. Hawkeye was the only one she could think of, being the man in her life, even if that man was just a friend, as long as her baby had her father, not a fake father, but her father.

"Listen little girl," Margaret started in a whisper. "You'll know him. I promise." Sitting and staring at the little girl. "I will keep the promise right now."

They were going to Maine. In the morning. She would pack up and they would go to Maine, fly into Portland, and then rent a car and drive to Crabapple Cove. He always said it was an hour or so away from there. Daisy needed more than just promises, she needed action. And that is what was going to happen. They would fly out, it was a good ten hour flight, and then drive to his place.

It was a year since they saw each other. Almost a whole year. It was June, the end of June of 1954, one more month and it would have been a year, and Daisy would have been four months.

Placing the little girl in the crib, Margaret moved into her bedroom, pulling out a suitcase, and moving to her closet. Summer on the east coast: it was hot, but rainy, and she didn't know how long she'd be staying, if she was. Three outfits, she decided as she quickly threw them in the suitcase. Daisy would take a bit longer to pack. She was writing notes, and making lists as she moved around the house in the dead of night while her child slept, not knowing what was about to happen.

For that matter, Margaret didn't know what was going to happen. She didn't know if he was still in Maine, if he didn't go and move out of state. She needed to take that chance.

By the time she and Daisy arrived at the airport, the feeling in her stomach was intensifying, but there was no turning back now. She had called Charlotte first thing and let her know what was going on, and that she might be at her house if it didn't work out. She called worked, said there was a family emergency. Called Sandra and told her to not worry about coming to babysit.

Daisy still had no idea what was going on, as the little girl was sound asleep in her mother's arms as they moved onto the plane. Margaret took the opportunity to close her eyes and sleep until the fussing of her daughter woke her.

Margaret knew that a flight that long would require entertainment for her little girl, but she hoped the child would sleep. But Daisy being Daisy, meant that wasn't going to happen, and Margaret was okay with that, because she got to nap when Daisy napped. The flight attendants let her walk the plane calming the little girl.

It was 6pm by the time they landed in Portland, and Margaret was glad to get off the plane, as Daisy needed time to be with just her mother. Margaret understood that, and rubbed the child's back as she organised the renting of a car, and got directions to Crabapple Cove. Hawkeye wasn't wrong, it was only an hour away by taking the back routes.

Settling the little girl in the car-seat, Margaret kissed her nose, before moving to the driver's side. It was happening.

She considered just going back to Seattle, where it was comfortable, where she could say one word and her mother would move there to help her, but she couldn't do that. She couldn't be the one to deny her child the right to see and be with her father.

As she started her journey, every possibility started to run through Margaret's head, saying yes, saying no, hating her, loving her, not wanting anything to do with them, wanting everything, him moving to Seattle, them moving here.

It was dangerous, and amazing all at the same time. Nothing Margaret would say or do would change what was going to happen, but she hoped, hoped for her child's sake, that the result would be positive.

She was so absorbed in her thoughts, she did not notice the rain that was pouring as she approached the Welcome to Crabapple Cove sign. Taking a deep breath, she looked down at the piece of paper she had on the seat beside Daisy, who was dozing off. It was a small town, she could find her way.

Turning onto Cherry Lane, Margaret noticed the house. The house he talked about, described in great detail, at the end of the road. It was a green, Victorian style house with large front doors, a wraparound porch, and a sign that said Dr. Daniel Pierce, GP, Dr. B. F. Pierce, General Surgeon hanging from the rail.

It was now or never.

Margaret opened the door, grabbing her purse and keys, ignoring the rain as it poured, and grabbing the diaper bag before moving to get her daughter. Looking at the door, her feet moved for herself as she walked up the sidewalk and onto the porch. Her hand reached out to ring the bell, and her breathing got heavier.

"Don't blame her," she said as the door opened to reveal one Hawkeye Pierce, staring at his visitors. "Please don't blame her."

--

I updated! A lot sooner than expected mind you.

First off, thank you all so much for your kind reviews, and I reply to every single one of them, so make sure you either sign in or leave me an email :)

Secondly, I'd like to thank Corka for her lovely proof reading job of this and the next chapter.

I have a few more weeks of my busy life of school left until I complete my Bachelors degree, so just bear with me on the updates, I only get to write in my spare time which is not that often sadly.

Thirdly, make sure you tell me what you think, if I can do anything in the story that will make you happy, or anything I'll take it all. This story is only about 1/4 complete, so I will take whatever you have for me!

3 Assilem