He was a bumbling fool to her. That no-good colonel in charge of the camp who always forsaken Army regulations was nothing more than useless to Margaret Houlihan. Of course, she always thought that of Colonel Henry Blake. Nobody could live up to these standards she held so near and dear to her heart.

Everyday she found something wrong with him. While he was a good surgeon and a doctor (she cannot deny that), Margaret always found fault with him outside the medical profession. There was the paperwork that was never done. The camp was always up in arms about roll calls, exercises and more and he did not nothing to change it. Even the pranks from certain surgeons were disregarded as childish.

But worst of all was his fishing. It was annoying to find some smelly dead body around the camp. No matter where Margaret went, there was some fishy stench. She gagged every time.

She'd have to complain each time fish were brought to the camp. Off to Henry Blake's office she went. He'd be doing something ridiculous, like watching a filthy film from Cuba or fixing that dumb doll on his desk. Margaret would then lay it into him, like a knife with butter against a piece of toast. He always ignored her, though.

It infuriated Margaret to no end. She had other means to complain. If the colonel could not bother to keep the camp clean, then she'd find someone else to enforce it. There was always a general she could call or write to. Frank would help her. Together, with the powers of persuasion, they managed to keep order in the camp. Then, it'd fall apart again and she and Frank would have to start all over again.

It was tough being in charge, but someone had to do it. Margaret felt like she was holding the pants of the camp. Even in this late of the day she found everyone and anything very annoying. The nurses were hanging up their laundry, to the glee of Captain Pierce. Captain McIntyre was trying to persuade Sergeant Rizzo to hand over a jeep. Klinger was asking Corporal O'Reilly to zip up his dress in the back. And then, there was that imprudent colonel again, out by the creek fishing! Worse, she saw Leslie Dish there too.

Margaret was livid. Dish was generally Henry Blake's companion, especially when he went fishing. She should not be using her spare hours bringing in some rotted carcass. She was supposed to be with the other nurses and acting decently, like an Army nurse should be. Fishing was not in the Army manual!

She approached the pair loudly. Henry Blake ignored him. Dish did not. She noted Margaret's angry presence and began backing away, inching out of the water. She would have escape had Margaret not grabbed the back of her collar and held tightly.

"Lieutenant, sit in your quarters!" Margaret barked. "We will talk about this later."

She released Dish. The lieutenant almost stumbled upon her discharge. When Dish recovered, she was off to her tent. Margaret doubted that Dish would remain in her quarters. Some of the surgeons will hide her and there will be a fight to get her out again.

The finale was about to come. Margaret turned to Henry and began her tirade from the rocky shore. The words poured out as he stood in the middle of the water, calmly waiting for his catch. Margaret did not care anymore. She continued complaining to her, from Dish being with him to Henry ignoring his duties of office.

Henry didn't pay attention to her. He hardly even moved. It was like he never heard Margaret. Usually, he was rubbing his head or arguing with her. Sometimes, he even came up with a solution that made some sense. Now, he did nothing. He was the picture of a man in his own world.

This infuriated Margaret more. She stomped her feet towards him, screaming all sorts of profanities at him as she splashed herself. She didn't care that her boots got wet or that anyone heard her. She had to give Henry Blake a piece of her mind and he was going to hear it, dammit!

The colonel still did not heed her. Margaret drew closer to him, practically screaming in his ear and kicking water at his pants. Finally, after a few minutes of hoarse, wordless screeches, Margaret stopped. Something was different about Henry. She eyed him, frightened.

He was almost like he was a lifeless doll. His eyes moved up and down like he was struggling to be awake or to stay asleep. His face was pasty white. He did not budge. Nothing else moved except the tide of the creek, taking his line further out.

Margaret lost her voice. She had to get help for Henry. Gasping, she backed away slowly. She held her hands out in defense as her steps moved backwards. She didn't know what to expect.

Once back on shore, Margaret turned to run, but bumped right into Henry. He was no longer in the creek fishing. He was in front of her, more alive than he appeared the minute before, but still closer in appearance to an inert item. He wrapped his arms around her in a loving manner, almost like a father, and began kissing her. First, it was on top of her blonde head. Then, he moved down to her forehead and eyes and nose. Finally, those lips landed on hers.

Most men were electrified by her lips. Not Henry Blake! He was charged through those hot lips. By the time he finished the merge, he was becoming more and more alive. Color flooded to his face. His features were more humanlike. He even stretched his legs, like he had been stiff for a long period of time. He didn't release Margaret, though. It was like he was using her for the power to maintain life.

Margaret was horrified. This wasn't real! Henry Blake could not have rushed around her and grabbed her like this. He could not have kissed her and been revived. Most certainly, she was not some power source. She was a woman and a Major too!

"Sometimes, you need to be reminded that you are a human being," Henry told Margaret. "You cannot function like there is a set of rules all the time. The Army is not your life."

"The Army is my life!" Margaret snapped. She found her voice. "You cannot take that away from me."

"But you can do it yourself," Henry reminded her. "Free yourself. You cannot be here forever. This isn't the place for you. Most certainly, you can't look up to your father for advice."

Margaret was aghast. Nobody had spoken to her like that before! She kicked Henry. It did nothing, though. He continued to hold her.

"I love you like family, Margaret," Henry continued. "Listen to me about it. Love is a fleeting emotion. It's always here, but comes in many forms. You are going to meet a lot of challenges in the coming days concerning what love is. I hope you understand that you cannot take them all."

Margaret struggled to be freed. She had duties to tend to. Normalcy had to be maintained. She could not be listening to this nonsense about love and enduring these illicit kisses and sexual assault. She was head nurse and that was that!

But it was all a dream. She woke up in her tent, startled. Corporal O'Reilly was shaking her shoulder. He told her something about wounded coming and to scrub up. She yelled at him to get out of her private quarters and that she'll be along shortly. He ran out quickly.

Margaret looked around her. Everything was normal. Her laundry was strung all around the tent. A record was playing nearby. The abandoned dinner from earlier still sat cold on a table. Even seeing Frank, who was previously hiding in the closet, was a relief. He had taken the opportunity to mask himself when the sneaky company clerk knocked on the door. Nothing was remiss.

Frank came to her in seconds, holding her. "Did you get some sleep, Peaches?" he asked her.

Margaret took these kisses in stride. "Oh, yes, darling. It was so strange, though. You would not believe the dreams I've had."