A/N: Sorry about the slow update, while writing this chapter I realized it was terribly dull, and scrapped it. Then, I realized how wonderful of a distraction Sherlock Holmes is. Forgive me, (dang, now I'm talking like Holmes.) this chapter is also kinda sad…I didn't even like writing the end XD. Thanks!

"You're what?"

Margaret's eyes glistened with worry, uncertainty, and boiling frustration as she spared a glance Hawkeye's way. He was sitting adjacent from her in Potter's office, the very room they had chosen to break the news in. Straightening her spine, Margaret cooled her composure. "Yes, I've been pregnant for about three months."

She...wait, back up.

Potter took a moment of recollection, but it was hardly needed as a smile poured onto his face. Hearing this was like hearing his own daughter was pregnant. "Well, that's great, congratulations!"

Margaret's sigh passed through a smile of immense relief. One less issue to worry about. "Thank you, sir." She stood up and gave her commanding officer a hug, pretty happy until the reminder that he didn't know about the father popped in her head. "Oh, I forgot to mention..." Sitting back down, she avoided her fiancé's eyes for reasons her heart cared not to dwell on. "...the father is Scully."

Potter swore under his breath. Of all the people, did the war have to be cruel to her, the woman he'd come to think of as a daughter? "I'm sorry, Margaret."

"Thank you. There's more, however."

Potter kept a sigh to himself. More? What could be more? She was pregnant and the father was already gone? What else could there be?

Judging by the smile on her face and the boyish grin on Hawkeye's, he had nothing to worry about.

"Hawkeye and I are getting married!"

Ok, now I've heard it all.

Hawkeye chuckled at the vacant but elated stare on his CO's face. "Colonel, you look blanker than the Peace Talk negotiations."

Snapping out of his trance with a huge smile, Potter offered a firm handshake to Hawkeye. "Congratulations, you two. I had a sneaking suspicion when I first got here that you two could be good for each other."

Margaret laughed, again hugging Colonel Potter. "Us? Colonel, we were at each other's throats!"

Hawkeye wrapped an arm around his fiancée's waist, avoiding her and Potter's gaze. He didn't exactly want to think about how badly he and Margaret used to fight, or the days when she was blowing into Frank's ear.

Shudder.

"Yeah, but there was something about you two, you worked well together." Colonel Potter subtly wiped a tear from his eye on his sleeve, there was no need for them to see that. "I'm happy for the both of you, I really am."

Margaret's laugh was choked with inner tears that were not yet ready to surface. She hated feeling this way, she would rather feel angry than sad, it was so much easier to deal with, and people got out of her way as opposed to asking how she felt. "I don't suppose you're happy enough to let me stay another month?"

Breath stopped in Hawkeye's throat, and with a twisting in his stomach, he found his gaze forced and locked on an oblivious Major. For the duration of the war she had been there – whether they were fighting, laughing, kissing, or just talking, she was with him. Now that he loved her, she had to leave?

Colonel Potter hated doing this. "I'm sorry, but I have to send you home. Even if I could keep you here, both of you will be safer in the States." He motioned to the Major's slight baby-bump, hidden well but noticeable by anyone who looked for it. "The paperwork will take about a week, then you'll have to go."

He turned away, looking at some miscellaneous books and papers on his desk as opposed to letting the pair he thought of as his children see him choked up. He had his pride, no matter how close he was to his comrades.

"Thank you, sir." Margaret said as Potter turned back. Three pairs of red eyes were all locked on each other's, but they had to remind themselves that they weren't even saying goodbye yet. The tears could, and would have to, wait.

Potter broke the melancholy tone and smiled. "Go have fun, kids, goodbyes aren't for a while now. Congratulations."

"Thanks, Colonel." Hawkeye grinned. He turned to Margaret, a suggestive grin playing at his face. "Shall we take our commanding officer's advice and have some fun?"

Margaret turned and started walking out with an artificial officious air, Hawkeye following her like a puppy. "You are impossible."

As Potter watched the couple leave, he made a mental note to ask Mildred for baby gifts ideas.

#

#

"That's right, I want them for three days from now," Brandon ordered. He stole a glance while the idiotic clerk on the other end of the line fumbled through his words. "Yes, three days. For the States, yeah. No, don't send anything out, just hold a seat. Got it? Good." He hung up the phone without so much as a word of parting. Personnel below the rank of Captain didn't need goodbyes, in his humble and pompous opinion.

A Brandy, he mused, was just the thing he needed for the night. Whether or not the meager O-Club would have it was another question, and if they didn't, a Scotch would suffice.

Thoughts of booze and alcohol were instructed at a flicker of imagery across the compound, blurred by built-up fog in the window pane.

Wiping the layer of mist away, the General was able to catch a fleeting glimpse of Hawkeye leading Margaret to the door. Her blonde hair disregarded respect for the olive drab surrounding her, stealing the spotlight like the moon amidst stars.

He was torn between envy and hatred as Hawkeye exchanged words with the Major through a smirk, a look in his eyes that Brandon didn't care to think much about. He had never looked at anyone like that, and he regretfully supposed that was part of the reason Margaret was in the Captain's arms, not his.

His eyes burned with burgundy under the hazel irises as Hawkeye bent down, planting a soft kiss on Margaret's forehead. How dare it be so easy, how dare it seem so effortless for him!

Margaret slipped her hands into his, a smile he could only dream of playing across her face. He knew all what she was saying, though he could not hear. The Captain's smile was clue enough.

She must've known he was out there, wanting to drive him mad, as she got up on her toes to give her fiancé a lingering kiss men dreamed of upon reaching mature ages.

Like a parent watching their child go into school for the first time, he could only stare as Margaret opened the door, led Hawkeye in, and let the door shut softly behind them.

Scotch, Brandy, anything would suffice.

#

"When should we have the wedding?"

"When do you want it?"

"Fine, I'll simplify it. Should we get married here or in the States?"

"Up to you."

"Should I kill you now or after dinner?"

"Whenever you want."

Margaret did not find Hawkeye's grin particularly funny. "Pierce, what's wrong with you? You aren't helping at all!"

Hawkeye sat up on his cot, doomed to see the Houlihan glare across from him. No women in the world got mad at him like she did, but at the same time, he could never love any woman again. The curse. "I just don't want to think about it right now."

Crossing her arms over her chest, she smirked in a way that sparked Hawkeye's nerves to call a code red. "That's what people say when they don't want to get married."

The words had a profound effect on both of them, in different ways. "How can you say that?" Hawkeye's defenses were making themselves known, and he didn't like where they were headed.

The train that was Margaret's anger and frustration was already tearing through, and Hawkeye wasn't able to stop it. "Quite easily! You haven't said a word about this wedding, and you won't even tell me why! Getting cold feet, Pierce? Now that you have me you're realizing that marriage isn't necessary?"

Hawkeye stood up, meeting her gaze for an instant before rising high above it. "Margaret, whether you believe it or not, I want to marry you."

"Liar."

Normally, Hawkeye would've just stormed out to get a drink and cool off, but something was tied to his ankle and holding him here. Was it her? Was he afraid of losing her if he left? Or was he just too stubborn to let her win the fight?

The moment of silence gave Margaret time to think, her anger shrinking into desperation. "Do you even want to marry me anymore?"

"Of course!"

"When?"

"Soon."

Margaret groaned. Why did she have to fall for such a frustrating, egotistical man? "You know what, Mr. Lack of Commitment?" She turned to him with anger that was strong as metal, but at the same time could be broken with a gentle tap. "You have once chance. Tell me why you're putting this off, or I take the ring off."

The temperature in the Swamp dropped several degrees.

"Margaret, you don't mean that, right?" Of course she didn't mean it. She wouldn't do something so drastic in the name of finding out why he was putting off the wedding, right?

But if she was serious, he knew about much pride his fiancée had. She was stubborn, and if she did take that ring off, it wouldn't go back on so easily.

She moved her fingers to the ring, a rose-gold band with a small diamond, on her left hand. "Try me."

He couldn't tell her.

She would hate him.

She would never forgive him.

"I can't tell you," he muttered in a voice below the Earth.

He could tell the exact moment her heart broke just by the look in her eyes.

"Fine." She spoke in short breaths so he wouldn't hear her sobs, so he wouldn't know how her heart was done for, shot dead. "If that's what you want."

"Margaret–"

She tore the ring off her finger, walked the few steps to him, pressed it into his palm and mumbled out, "Goodbye, Hawkeye."

"Margaret, wait, come on!" He ignored the stinging in his eyes as he barely caught her hand. Her eyes were we, tear-filled and aching. He knew his were the same. "You're not really doing this, right?"

Her voice, no longer able to support the load it was given, broke. "I-I can't wait for you to make up your mind. You won't...you won't make the decision, so I will." Had his eyes always been such a brilliant shade of sapphire? Had his hand always been so warm, so strong, as it enveloped hers? "I'm...goodbye."

Moving onto her toes, she reached up and pressed her lips to his. It was brief, just long and deep enough to drive both of them mad.

She set back on her heels and walked out without another word.

He looked down at the ring in his hands. "Margaret..."

He had lost the love of his life...

It was over.

How was he supposed to get her back now?

You're not.