Hawkeye woke up the next morning without his usual want for more sleep, not that he had time to think about it. As soon as he found BJ and Charles sound asleep in their respective bunks, he got dressed and went to Margaret's tent. The camp was just starting to grow active. No causalities were expected today, and Hawkeye planned to take full advantage of that. "Margaret?"

No response.

After knocking a few more times and fighting to keep his heart rate down, he opened the door. Nothing. She wasn't there.

Shut up and stop panicking.

He decided to listen to his gut for once and check the Mess Tent. If she wasn't there, he'd check post-op. IF not there, he'd ask Radar if he'd seen her.

Thankfully, he found her sitting alone in with breakfast, looking pretty miserable. He walked straight over to her, and she attempted to look as close to normal as possible. "Morning, Margaret. How are you feeling?"

She shot him a glare between glances around the Mess Tent. "Captain, I'm feeling fine. Don't you have someone else to bother?"

What? "Uh, Margaret," he laughed a little and turned to face her better. "I know I have some pretty weird dreams, and you're in a lot of them by the way, but…" he left it to her to fill in the rest.

She rolled her eyes. Couldn't he just let her be? "Yes, Captain, I'm still you-know-what. I don't need to be taken care of like a porcelain doll, however."

Hormones. Must be hormones. Hawkeye knew of no other reason. How was he supposed to help her if she was biting his head off like this? He decided to just agree with whatever she said. "You're right. I'll act like nothing is different." After a brief pause, he gave her his usual grin. "Are you busy tonight?"

She fought to not smile. Oh, how she fought. She used every muscle, inside and out, not to smile. She didn't want to give him the satisfaction of seeing that she was kind of flattered, a bit happy, and total relieved that he was by her side. But none of it mattered, because a small grin came out anyway.

After a few seconds passed by, Margaret changed the subject. "Did you find Scully?"

Hawkeye shook his head. "Klinger's on the case, but it might take some time. Have you decided to tell him?"

With a reluctant sigh, she nodded. "Yes. We'll talk and go from there. And…thank you, Pierce. I don't usually break down like that, but it was nice to have you there yesterday." She locked eyes with him, then reached over and covered his hand with hers. "Thank you."

He gently squeezed her hand in return, ignoring the warmth and butterflies that exploded at feeling her fingers intertwine with his. "No problem. You're a pretty nice crier, so I'm glad I was there." He winked with his compliment, and her blush was paired with rolling eyes. "Have you had any symptoms yet?"

"Occasional morning sickness, but not much else."

Before Hawkeye could interview her any further, Klinger ran into the Mess Tent up to them. Their hands separated and went under the table, but Klinger didn't even notice. "Captain, Scully's on the line."

Hawkeye turned to Margaret, whose eyes had shot open with panic. "That's your cue."

The sharp butterflies immediately started flapping in Margaret's stomach. Should she tell him now? If he was in combat, no. if he was somewhere safe, maybe. "I'll go. I'll be there in a minute, Klinger."

Klinger took the hint and went off. Margaret turned to Hawkeye with worry dripping off her and plainly visible. She needed as much support as he could give. "What do I say to him?"

"You'll do fine. You don't have to tell him now, just explain you need to see him." Seeing that her nerves refused to budge, he looked her in the eye and offered, "Do you want me to come with you?"

She met his gaze but shook her head. "No, I'll be fine." She was still her independent self, after all, she would be fine. She stood up, grabbed her tray and went off towards the phone, leaving Hawkeye to worry for her alone.

What would Scully say? Hawkeye knew that Scully was a good, decent guy, but he wasn't exactly dream father material. He wasn't dream husband material either, especially for Margaret. Hawkeye didn't know how reliable of a husband Scully would even be, and he wanted to know Margaret would be in a stable and happy home.

Margaret wasn't back after Hawkeye finished with breakfast, and wasn't even done after he showered. After debating back and forth, a martini, more debating and three almost-walks to the phone, he finally got his feet to get him through the door.

When he walked in, Margaret was just sitting in the chair, tear-stained and mascara overly-smudged. "Margaret, are you ok?" He immediately went to her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. She wasn't crying at the moment, but anyone could tell that when she had been, she was sobbing.

She took in a deep breath and tried to get a hold of her voice before it cracked. "I talked to Scully. He could tell I was upset and wanted to know why, so I told him. I told him about the baby. He was…upset. We fought, and I yelled at him." She had to pause and take another deep breath. She wasn't going to break down, not again. "While we were fighting…the phone went dead. The last thing I heard was a shell exploding."

Hawkeye sighed. How was it that war could be this cruel? He gently massaged the back of Margaret's neck in slow, small circles to keep her calm. "I'm sorry, Margaret. Are you alright?"

She nodded. "Yeah, I'm ok. Thank you, Hawkeye." She leaned forward and gave him a tight hug. She didn't feel perfect, by a long shot, but she felt a lot better. "You're really something, you know that?"

He stood up and offered her his hand, which she accepted as she got up. "I've been told that as compliments and insults, you're going to have to be a bit more specific."

After getting a smile from the Major, he led her outside into the autumn air. It didn't yet require a coat, but was just enough for Margaret to brush up against Hawkeye several times for warmth without consequence. "Now, may I take my favorite officer to lunch?"

She smirked and looked up at him. Were his eyes always such a unique, icy blue? "Only if you keep your hands to yourself."

"I make no promises."

#

Margaret collapsed onto her cot like it was an impenetrable waterbed. She'd just taken a 'trip' to the latrine, and was already sick of all the symptoms of being pregnant. Why couldn't you have nice symptoms when you were pregnant? Like natural blush, soft skin, and not throwing up?

After a few minutes of contemplating all the scenarios that would happen today that would probably make her mad, she pushed herself out of bed and got ready. They were supposed to get wounded later and she hadn't eaten yet, so she went off to the Mess Tent.

A small smile found its way on her face as she thought of seeing the chief surgeon for breakfast. Hawkeye had been by her side almost constantly for the past few days, and she had to admit that she liked it. Sure, the nurses were a bit jealous and suspicious, but why should she care? She was pregnant, she needed the support.

She walked in, but the man in question was nowhere to be found. BJ, Potter, and Charles were all sitting together though, and she was sure one of them would know where he was. "Have you seen Pierce?" She realized after the words slipped out of her mouth that she sounded a bit too eager, so she added, "I need to talk to him about post-op."

"Pierce isn't here," Potter said. "I had to send him to an aid station late last night, they needed a surgeon right away and it was his turn."

Hormones. She wanted to cry. And yell. Why hadn't he said goodbye to her? Sure, she wasn't exactly pleasant when people woke her up in the middle of the night, but she would've at least liked to know about it! "Oh, when is he coming back?"

"As soon as they get a new replacement surgeon, which will probably be sometime tonight." Potter turned to BJ and started asking him about some prank he and Hawk had pulled. Margaret sat silently, nodding and smiling through the rest of breakfast. First Scully, and now this? She was already torn up over not hearing from Scully, and just when she was convinced things were probably fine, Hawkeye goes to the front! The war could really louse up a person's day.

As soon as she finished breakfast, she excused herself and went to post-op. "Klinger?" She called over to the Corporal, who immediately turned to face her. "Can you please put a call through to the aid station? I need to speak with Captain Pierce."

Klinger looked too apprehensive for Margaret's taste. "I don't know, Major. I'll try, but it might not get through, I hear they're pretty busy up there."

"Just get it through, alright?" She turned to leave, but Klinger tapped her shoulder lightly.

"Uh, Major? Come here." he beckoned her to follow him the phone, and she followed. He turned to her as he started making the call. "I'm worried about him too. But Captain Pierce is a strong guy, and I'm sure he'll be alright."

Margaret hated, hated to admit it, but she felt a little better at Klinger's words. "Thank you, Klinger. Come get me when that call is through, alright?"

Klinger nodded. "Sure thing, Major."

#

It was only ten minutes later when the call came through, and Margaret was there in the blink of an eye, especially when Klinger told her that Hawkeye couldn't stay on long.

"Pierce?" She sat down and started yelling through the phone with all different emotions blaring at him. "Are you alright? Why didn't you tell me you were leaving? I would kill you if I didn't need you!"

Hawkeye winced at her tone. "Margaret, I had to leave so fast I was supposed to be gone ten minutes before he told me. I would've said goodbye but you insisted on doing post-op and were exhausted. I'll be back tonight." A shell hit, loud enough that Margaret jumped. "In theory."

Margaret sighed and leaned on the desk. "How is it over there?"

Hawkeye laughed. "It's great, we're having tea then playing a game of golf. How are you feeling?"

Listen to him. He's at the front with shells exploding around him, and he's wondering how I'm doing! "I'm fine, but you be careful. I need you back here in one piece."

"Me too. Listen, I have to go. Take care of yourself, ok? I'll be back tonight."

Margaret wiped away a tear with her sleeve. One good thing about pregnancy was that she could blame any and all emotions on said pregnancy, whether it was the true cause or not. "Take your own advice, Pierce. See you soon."

"You too. And Margaret? Save me a kiss." He hung up, leaving her with a smile on her face and blushing cheeks. She could just imagine him running over to save someone's life. He was brave like that. He would help others no matter what it meant for himself.

But would he be back to help her?