There were so many beautiful nurses that he could think about. Every night, there was always a different one that catered to his needs. Sometimes, he managed to have one for a week before some girl spoiled it and another naïve one took her place. Other times, they came to him as punishment and demanded more. They used and abused him just as much as he did.

But for Hawkeye Pierce, there was one woman he'd love to have and she was practically unobtainable. Margaret Houlihan was always sniffing up Frank's back (and then some, but Hawkeye did not want to think about it). He's teased and cajoled her into coming to him alone and she's always refused him in oh so many ways. He had to keep trying though. There was no other way Margaret would crumble to his advances.

Late one night, he cornered her. She was pulling off her bloodied white gown. They just finished a grueling OR session and she looked tired. Her blonde hair tumbled down when her cap was lifted. The curls bounced and twinkled in the light just so. Hawkeye drew closer to get a better look. He touched her shoulder and soon found his arms full.

"I've been waiting for this moment for months," Margaret whispered in his ear.

Hawkeye was baffled. He thought that he was going to endure a mouthful of bantering, insults and regulation spitting. This was a complete three-sixty…and he loved it. He didn't know what to say though. For once, he was tongue-tied.

"Oh, really now?" he asked stupidly.

There was no verbal reply. She went for a kiss. Hawkeye returned it and felt an electric shock run down, from his lips to his toes. Energized by her hot touch, he picked her up and felt the strong arms wrap around his neck. He hardly staggered as he made his way from the dressing room to the Swamp. That too was surprising. Anybody Margaret kissed always fell to their knees and begged for mercy. Frank was always a prime example (as were numerous other officers, but that was beside the point).

Hawkeye made it to the Swamp and laid Margaret on his cot. Without another surgeon in sight, it was bound to be a wonderful time. Immediately, he pounced. He was on top of Margaret before she had the chance to talk and began pulling at her clothes and kissing her, all over her face and neck. There was too many of them! He could hardly count on what his lips and hands were doing. Even his half discarded articles were of no consequence.

Margaret was a tough fighter and took charge. She did not like to be dominated and stripped like a common doxy. When she had the chance, Hawkeye noted the subtle change, from prey to predator. Suddenly, she rolled over him and pushed him to the floor. Her naked body peered from above, hands propping up her head. She was laughing at him!

Hawkeye was confused even more. "What's so funny?"

"The great Lothario can't get it up," she teased.

"What? No." Hawkeye tugged at his own pants as if he was guilty of what she said. He sat up to face her. "How dare Madam presume so?"

"Madam does not presume so. She sees something that Sir does not." Margaret giggled again and got up.

Somehow, it seemed natural to be walking around an open tent without any clothes on. Margaret was a pro at it, but had another aim in mind. She found a dirty martini glass and blew the dust out of it. Then, she decided that a nightcap was the best thing in the world. Hawkeye could not keep track of how much she drank. He just knew that it was enough to make his eyes bug out. He thought about joining her, but something stopped him. Being sober seemed to be his best bet.

When Margaret decided to come back to him, she was very drunk. She could hardly stand and was slurring every other word. Hawkeye couldn't make out anything, but he was sure that she still wanted him. Again, something made him not do it. He had every opportunity and he had the advantage, but he chose to forget about it.

"Hawkeye Pierce," Margaret chanted. Disorderly as she was, she was ugly. "Benjamin Franklin 'Hawkeye' Pierce…"

Hawkeye was up in an instant and zipping up his pants. "Look, Margaret," he begged. "We can't go on like this."

But she continued to press her suit. Hawkeye didn't even care about having a shirt, socks and shoes on. He ducked for the door and was about to make a run for it. However, before he could even step outside, Margaret jumped and grabbed him from behind. They both tumbled to the ground face first and were soon fighting to see who the winner was. Hawkeye considered escape to be his best bet. He wasn't going to be accused of rape.

"Margaret, let go!" he yelled. "Let go!"

The mantra woke Hawkeye up from his dream. He eyed his surroundings. Yes, he was in the Swamp. Trapper and Frank were sound asleep. But there was somebody else next to him, also breathing the innocence of slumber. He was startled, but didn't want to wake anybody up with his screaming. Carefully, he reached over to turn his overhead light on. Instantly, this woke everybody else but his companion up.

"Pierce!" Frank complained.

"Aww, come off it, Hawk," Trapper added. "Can't a guy get some beauty rest here?"

"Might be better off in the mine field," Hawkeye replied. He looked around him. "Anybody know who came in here the last few hours?"

"Anybody and everybody," Trapper said. "Listen, Hawkeye, go to sleep. You'd do us all a favor if you did."

Frank grumbled something about leaving other people's interests alone and rolled over to avoid the light in his face. Hawkeye ignored it. He thought that Frank was talking about them gluing his Bible together and rewriting the commandments again. Religion was hardly an interest with Frank, but he always pretended.

"All right, all right," Hawkeye finally said. "Good night, everyone."

The other two echoed their sentiments and grumbled some more. Hawkeye turned the lamp off and tried settling back down like his bunkmates. Somehow, he couldn't. Something was off. He should have been enjoying having a woman in his bed and not having artillery nearby.

"Good night, Hawkeye," the female voice whispered sleepily. She drifted back to her dreams.

Hawkeye was curious. He turned the light back on and pulled the blanket back. When he saw who was there, he yelled and ran out the door.

It was Margaret.