Well, I thought I'd go ahead and post the next chapter. This one's a bit longer and definitely more AU than the last. Things are going to start skewing a bit more as we go along, but it's not drastic or sudden. The best changes are gradual, and that's how friendships become more.
Thanks to everyone who's reviewed already.
"Just once, I'd like them to call ahead for reservations." Hawkeye bemoaned the deluge of wounded that were arriving in the compound as he pulled on his lab coat. BJ smiled grimly and slapped him on the back before following a few of the nurses toward the incoming jeeps. Hawkeye took the bus and began checking and sorting wounded according to their priority. Just as he was stepping out, a bounding body crashed into him. He reached his hands out and steadied Margaret before she toppled to the ground.
"Watch it!" she reprimanded, pushing past him onto the bus to begin overseeing its evacuation. Hawkeye watched her for a second longer, then shook his head. It seemed "Major Houlihan" was in full-tilt mode, and he'd learned from experience that a joke would not only fall flat but probably earn him a tongue-lashing. Then again, a tongue-lashing from her was an entertaining image by itself. With that amusing thought in his head, he jogged to pre-op and began scrubbing down.
Thirty-three patients later, Hawkeye stumbled into the changing room. It had been a relatively good session, despite the Major's mood. He hadn't lost a patient and had even offered a few comforting words to Nurse Bell after Margaret had ruined her day. Hawkeye found himself thinking about the head nurse quite a bit since their adventures into the wilds of Korea. The fact that she'd neither slapped him nor invited him back after he'd kissed her completely dumbfounded him, and he wondered what – if anything – she was thinking.
Seeing the object of his thoughts across the room struggling to get out of her surgical gown, he stretched lazily and sauntered over to offer his assistance. He was her friend – probably her only friend due to her mood lately – and he promised himself to discover what was bothering her.
An hour later, he was regretting his perseverance. When Margaret had confided in him about her possible condition, his initial reaction had been of joy. He loved children and knew what happiness they could bring to a family. Then he remembered just who the child's father was and his smile disappeared. Margaret and Donald weren't on the best of terms at the moment, and a child would probably only put a strain on that, furthering Margaret's already sour mood at possibly being kicked out of the Army.
He'd kept it light-hearted around her, hoping some good cheer would rub off for a little while at least. But in the safety and privacy of the Swamp, Hawkeye lay on his bunk thinking about just what it would mean if she were pregnant. She'd be out of the Army for sure, and there was a better than even chance he'd never see her again. He laughed bitterly as he remembered a time not too long ago when that thought wouldn't have bothered him as much as it was now. She'd come to mean a great deal to him in a short time, and he tried to remember exactly when she'd made the switch from grating annoyance to dear friend. It had been gradual, he supposed, but the more he thought about it, the more he realized that out of all of his friends here, only BJ and Margaret were in the "close" category.
"Pierce!" a hushed whisper drew his attention outside, and he saw Margaret crouching next to the tent.
"Margaret, what will people think?" he joked, and he saw a fire light in her eyes. If she were able to, he was sure she would have slugged him at that moment. Silently, he thanked the flimsy Army netting that was separating them. It was short lived, however, when she stormed through the Swamp door, and he held up a pillow in front of him for defense.
"Pierce, do you have any idea what that idiotic pygmy of a clerk has done?" Hawkeye dropped the pillow and scowled at her. He might be her friend, and he knew she got testy when she was upset, but that was no reason to call Radar names. She ignored the indignant look in his eyes and plowed ahead. "He let the rabbit go! Now I'll have to go all the way to Seoul and heaven knows who will find out then!" Hawkeye praised and cursed Radar silently. His rabbit was safe, but now Margaret was on a tear.
"I'll go talk to him," he offered. "Maybe he can scrounge up another rabbit. It's a long shot, but I'll try, Margaret." She deflated as she saw the genuine concern in his eyes. Just as quickly it was gone, replaced by the mirthful, sly look she was so used to seeing there. "And while he's at it, maybe he can round up a lewd movie or two."
"Pierce!"
"I'm going, I'm going!" he was pushed out of the Swamp, and only when he was sure she couldn't hear him did he chuckle.
Two hostages and one rabbit hysterectomy later, Hawkeye leaned back in his chair and pronounced her fit to continue duty. He watched as her face morphed from anxiousness to happiness to some other emotion he couldn't define. He knew that despite her tough Army exterior, there was a woman inside who secretly yearned for that American dream; a small house with a white picket fence, a husband who came home at the exact same time every night, and 2.5 kids running around in the yard. Or maybe it was her who came home from work while her husband stayed home, Hawkeye really wasn't sure about the details. But he knew she wanted a family someday, and as he watched her stand up he felt like he should say something.
"Are you happy, Margaret?" She stopped in her tracks and turned back to him with a confused expression on her face.
"Of course I am, Captain, I get to stay in the Army and do my duty." He knew she was feeling something when she used his title these days, so he stood up and took a step toward her.
"Margaret, it's okay to be sad about this. A child is…it's a wonderful thing." He knew he'd struck a nerve when she stepped back from him and clenched her jaw.
"I'm well aware of that," she snapped. "But my husband and I aren't at a point in our marriage where children are a great idea. This is a war zone, if you recall."
"Believe me, you don't have to remind me," Hawkeye was beginning to feel a little agitated himself. Her hostile avoidance routine was wearing thin on him. "But a part of you wanted that test to be positive. I don't know why you can't just admit it."
"This is a pointless conversation," she made to turn around and storm out the door, but he was lightning quick as he reached out and grasped her upper arm lightly. She opened her mouth to reprimand him, but he beat her to it.
"Look me in the eye, Margaret, when you lie to me. Tell me you didn't imagine yourself in a small house in Perfectville, USA watching your husband read to your beautiful daughter, or bounce around the yard with an energetic son. Even if for an instant, you wanted that to be true." Her eyes were glassy now, and Hawkeye knew he was getting through to her. "Even in a war zone, you're allowed to feel and dream and wish for things; hell, it's pretty damn hard not to. But don't think that you're better than the rest of us just because you lock everything away in a neat little box. You'll go crazy holding it all in. You trusted me enough to tell me, to let me be here with you, to perform the tests. Why won't you trust me enough to talk to me?"
"If that's all, Captain." And she was gone. He sighed to no one and began cleaning up the lab, careful to dispose of any and all evidence that might point someone in the wrong direction. Twenty minutes later, he decided to join BJ in the Swamp for a nap. As he closed his eyes, however, he had a brief flash of Margaret with a baby on her hip, laughing as she watched a little blonde haired girl run around a yard. Only when the father came into focus did Hawkeye's eyes snap open.
"Uh oh…"
He lay there with his eyes wide open, scared that if he closed them again his mind would assault him with vivid images of a future that would never be; one that he wasn't even sure he wanted. So he looked out into the night sky and began counting stars, still in awe at the sheer number that he could see out here. Crabapple Cove wasn't exactly a big city, so the night sky back home was pretty impressive. But a Korean night was almost aglow with the luminescent orbs dotting the blackness.
Movement drew his attention from the sky to the compound, and he rolled onto his side and half-closed his eyes to watch Margaret's progress from her tent. His heart skipped as she looked in his direction, seemingly checking to see if he was asleep. Hawkeye kept his eyes lidded, observing Margaret in a raw moment when she believed no one was watching. She pulled her robe more tightly around her and – to his surprise – walked over to the wooden lounge chairs outside the Swamp and sat down. Her eyes darted to his form once more, as if ensuring he was asleep, before relaxing her head back.
"Penny for your thoughts," Hawkeye said quietly, and Margaret's head snapped toward him in an instant, her eyes wide and startled. He sat up and slipped his boots on, not bothering to tie them as he joined her outside. Charles was in post-op and BJ was in a deep slumber after a double shift, so Hawkeye didn't feel the least bit conscientious as he reached out and brushed a lock of stray blonde hair away from her face. Margaret, however, flinched and recoiled instinctively, before relaxing once again.
"I'm sorry," she whispered. He grunted in response, hoping she would elaborate as he sat in the other chair. "I shouldn't have snapped at you earlier, especially after all you did to help. I guess I don't deal with the emotional stuff very well." Silence was his response, and she looked sidelong at him to gauge his reaction.
But he'd learned that sometimes silence was the best thing when talking with Margaret, and soon enough she didn't disappoint.
"You were right," she said softly, as if afraid of being overheard. "I did imagine what it would be like to have a real home, with a normal family. But then I realized that I'm in the Army – that my husband is in the Army. Our children are going to be just like I was; always moving, never in the same place long enough to make a friend." Hawkeye reached out and laid a warm hand on her forearm.
"And then I thought about my father," she continued. "You've never met him, but you can guess what he's like. He's regular Army – a retired Colonel – and when I thought about what he would say when I told him I was pregnant…he'd be so disappointed in me." Hawkeye withdrew his hand quickly.
"Disappointed?" there was venom in his voice, and Margaret turned toward him in surprise. Over the years, she'd heard everything from indignant rage to strained frustration in his tone, but the malice he put into that one word made her heart beat faster. He was upset – she could see it in the way his normally icy blue eyes were as dark as storm clouds in the starlight. She opened her mouth to calm him – or at least warn him to be quiet – but he was on an infamous Pierce rant now and nothing could stop him short of an announcement of a cease fire.
"Margaret, when a man's daughter presents him with news of his first grandchild, I expect elation, pride, giddiness, ecstasy, satisfaction, delight, and a thousand synonyms for pure joy. Disappointment is not only not allowed but it's offensive!"
"Oh no, Hawkeye, my father would really –"
"Don't," he cut her off sharply, surprising her even further. "Don't make excuses for him. I know how hard you try day in and day out to please him; you've talked about him only a hundred times and how proud he is that you're not only head nurse here but a Major as well. But don't make an attempt to praise him if the only emotion he could muster up for the announcement of a miracle – and your miracle at that – is shame." She was dumbstruck as he brought his tirade to a close, and she glanced around quickly to see if he'd attracted an audience. But BJ snored on obliviously, and it seemed the rest of the camp was either preoccupied or asleep.
"It's ridiculous for you to be this upset over something that never even happened," she tried to reason.
He stared at her for a moment more before standing up and stretching. "You came over here, Margaret."
"I just…I couldn't sleep. And I needed to talk to you." The honesty and raw emotion in her voice stopped his retreat into the Swamp, and he sat back down next to her. His silence was an invitation to continue, and she took a deep breath and prepared to tell him exactly why she was sitting outside his tent at such a late hour.
"This…event got me thinking about the future, after the war is over. Yes, I'd like to have children one day – most women do – but the more I thought about it…" she trailed off, unsure if she should give Hawkeye any ammunition against her.
"What, Margaret?"
It was his tone, not his words, that persuaded her to continue. They'd both changed so much in the past few months. "I started thinking about what kind of father Donald would be to our children. I would have to leave the Army, of course, if and when we ever decided to start a family. But Donald wouldn't – the Army is his life."
"You know, his life is supposed to be you," Hawkeye interjected cynically. She ignored him and continued on, knowing if she stopped now she'd never get it out.
"The more I thought, the more I realized…oh, it's a horrible thing to say." Hawkeye leaned over close, hoping to entice her to at least whisper it to him. "Donald would be a horrible father." Completely shocked, Hawkeye sat back in the chair. Margaret covered her face with a hand and sighed. "I said it wasn't very nice, but that doesn't make it less true. His focus is on his career – and obviously not a family. How can I bring a child into this world knowing that his or her father cares more about his next promotion than their well-being?"
"Margaret, I'm proud of you," he said out of nowhere. He was grinning like a madman, and Margaret wasn't so sure that he hadn't gone off the deep end.
"Have you been listening to anything I've said in the last five minutes?"
"Well, you won't be winning any awards for World's Most Adoring Wife, but at least you're honest enough with yourself to own up to the fact that you married a –"
She interrupted him with a half-hearted glare. "Watch it, Pierce, he's still my husband."
"All I'm saying is there's no reason you and Donald can't be married without children. It's not a law, you know." She glared at him for his attempt at humor, but a small smile betrayed her. "Look, if being in the Army and married to Donald is what makes you happy, then that's that. And if, in the future, a child comes along…well, maybe you're wrong about him." She took a deep breath and searched his eyes for any sign of deceit, but she didn't find any.
"Maybe you're right."
"And listen, if that does happen and he throws a fit, tell him he's on diaper duty for a year." Margaret laughed out loud, and Hawkeye joined her. She reached over and grabbed his hand, squeezing it in gratitude.
"We're quite the pair, aren't we?"
Nah," he joked. "A pair is two of the same card. We're more like Blackjack." She chuckled and canted her head, curious about his analogy. "You know, two cards that are different – sometimes complete opposites – but when you get them together? Magic."
Moments later, on her way back to her tent, Margaret realized that Hawkeye's words were probably the most romantic thing any man had ever said to her.
"Uh oh…"
Next up: "Temporary Duty"