A hitch becomes an opening...
When Potter's order that Pierce was taking over temporarily had reached Margaret, she'd fumed for over an hour in her tent. She was not only higher ranking, but she was definitely more fit for command than a draftee doctor. But, the more she thought about it, she wondered if Potter hadn't planned it out all in advance to instill a little Army into the chaotic disposition of their Chief Surgeon. Margaret didn't think it was going to work, but hearing Pierce snap at BJ in OR had made her rethink Potter's cunning.
It wasn't his fault really; Pierce was no more ready to command a unit than she was to host a tea party. He was out of his element and it seemed the pressures of command were weighing down on him heavily. Thinking on their newfound relationship – such as it was – she strolled into Radar's office with a determined look.
"Is the Commander in?" she joked, earning a nervous chuckle from the bespectacled kid.
"Yes, Ma'am, he is, but he's doing all the paperwork he's neglected for two days and he's awfully busy so if you would be so kind as not to disturb the Captain Major I'm sure he would appreciate it sir – ma'am." She knew the company clerk spoke more rapidly the more nervous he was, so it was no surprise how quickly the speech spilled from his mouth. She patted him on the shoulder, ignoring his flinch, and strode past him.
"Just a moment, Corporal, then I'll let our esteemed commander get back to work." She pushed the office door open and stopped in her tracks. There, head down upon a pile of paperwork, lay Captain Pierce. She chuckled as she noticed some drool leaking from his mouth onto the requisition for more blankets. After making sure the doors were closed, and that Radar wasn't up to his usual eavesdropping, she moved around to his side and laid a hand on his shoulder.
"Captain," she called softly, shaking his shoulder. When he didn't stir, she leaned in close. "Hawkeye," she tried a little more firmly. He snaked an arm around her waist as he leaned back, pulling her into his lap. She stifled the squeak that rose in her throat as he opened his eyes sleepily.
"Mmm…hey Major Baby," he murmured, and she slapped his shoulder softly. Surprisingly, she made no move to get off his lap, and even settled her hands on his shoulders.
"Too much paperwork?"
The hand that wasn't on her waist ran tiredly down his face. "Yeah, I never realized how many trees had to die for this unit to run smoothly. And I would have had it all done hours ago, except I've had to babysit all morning."
She laughed at that, marveling at how military he was beginning to sound. "Can I give you some advice I learned the hard way?" He grunted, and she didn't know if that was a yes or a no, but she continued anyway. "These people know their jobs. Just sit back, let them do their thing, and don't hover."
He glared at her then, and despite telling herself it was the stress, she felt hurt.
"This coming from Hot Lips Houlihan, the scourge of every nurse in Korea? The one who egged Frank Burns on when he was on a military rampage?" he spat.
She jumped up and moved away from him, and he made no move to follow. "How dare you!" she answered just as hotly. "All I was trying to do was offer some advice. I thought we were friends; that we could speak to each other openly. I was trying to save you a headache, but if you want to be Frank Burns Mark 2, then by all means go right ahead!" She stormed out, almost bowling over Radar in the process. "Watch it twerp!"
Hawkeye had half a mind to go after her and yell at her some more, but the mountain of unfinished paperwork stopped him in his tracks.
Despite one little incident after surgery, Pierce didn't see Margaret for the rest of the day. When Potter came back, Hawkeye nearly jumped up from the desk. He was at odds with just about everybody in camp, and he'd realized in the last few hours or so that he didn't like "Commander Pierce" too much either. He was more than happy to resume the roll of Hawkeye, Chief Cut-up, but Potter had other ideas. A few minutes later they were in the Swamp, and despite not being in charge anymore, Hawkeye couldn't help berating BJ for his half-cocked escapade up to the front.
"Enough!" Potter had almost emptied the bottle between them, and with alcohol loosening their tongues, words were flying between the friends like fire. At their CO's bellow, however, there was silence. "That's better. Now, it seems as if my attempt to mend bridges turned into a disaster, so I'm going to leave. Pierce, you're coming with me."
"But I live here!" the doctor protested, ignoring the dark look he was getting from his friend.
"And for the time being, I'd like it to stay that way. If I leave you two here alone, I'm afraid only one of you will continue living here. Out!" Pierce huffed but knew when not to disobey Potter. With one last hard look at BJ, he stormed out the door in a huff.
"Don't ever leave him in charge again," BJ started, but a glare from Potter shut him up too.
"Can it, Hunnicutt. You're taking his shift in post-op tonight to make up for the fact that you went gallivanting off without permission." At BJ protesting look, Potter held up a finger. "Need I remind you that I could and will allow Pierce to write up that report should you not feel the need to make it up to him. Come on, BJ, you two have been thicker than thieves since you got here; don't let something like this drive you apart."
The captain sighed heavily. "Alright, you win. And I'll apologize to him for real when he calms down. Tomorrow he should be back to normal."
"There, that's what I like to hear," Potter smiled. "I'll inform the defunct commander of your generosity. I imagine he'll be doing some apologizing of his own before it's all said and done." With that, the commander left, leaving BJ to get ready for his impromptu shift.
Hawkeye stormed across the compound toward the mess tent, then turned around and began toward post-op. Halfway there, he turned again and paced toward the latrines. What agitated him the most was the fact that BJ was right; Captain Pierce would have done anything to save the life of a soldier, including commandeering a jeep and driving to the front without orders. He'd have to have a talk with his friend tomorrow, when both of them had time to calm down. And what really stung was Potter had come back and told him the same thing Margaret had tried to tell him days ago.
He stopped cold and closed his eyes. She was probably furious with him after the things he'd said and done. That particular apology couldn't wait; he had to see her tonight. He detoured one last time and began the trek toward the Major's tent, but Colonel Potter stepped into his path.
"Feeling better, Pierce?"
"Just dandy," he replied. "You're never allowed to leave again."
Potter chuckled. "BJ said the same thing to me, right before I gave him your shift in post-op. Don't make me regret it." Pierce nodded abashedly. "You headed someplace in particular with that determined look on your face?"
"Yeah, Commander Pierce made a few enemies and left Hawkeye holding the bag." Potter nodded.
"Just remember, be honest with her." And he was gone. Pierce stared after him for a moment, wondering just how the old colonel knew he was headed to see the major. After a moment, he shrugged, chalking it up to years of experience and a keen eye. He finished his walk to Margaret's tent and knocked softly.
"Who is it?" her voice floated out to him and he took a deep breath.
"I come bearing apologies," he began, hoping she would at least hear him out. After a moment of unbearable silence, he heard shuffling from inside and stepped back to allow her to open the door. Her face was hardened as she took in his appearance on her doorstep. When she didn't say anything, it was clear she was waiting for him to begin.
"I was an ass," he said simply. Her brow shot up in surprise and she retreated a few steps inside, holding the door so he could follow. He did, but only far enough to let the door close behind him.
"Go on," she prompted, folding her arms across her chest. Hawkeye recognized the defensive gesture and kicked himself for abusing her trust in him.
"I said some…choice words that I now regret after thinking everything over. I mean, what do you expect really when you put a half-crazy draftee doctor in charge of a camp full of misfits? But I didn't handle the pressure very well, and while I don't really like the choices and orders I had to make, I do think that they were the right ones. The only thing I really regret is snapping at you; it was undeserved."
"And?" her posture relaxed a bit, but Hawkeye groaned silently when he realized she was going to make him say it.
"And I'm sorry."
She stood silently staring at him, as if evaluating the sincerity behind his words. Finally, she dropped her hands and sighed.
"Pierce, you can't be too hard on yourself. And you were right; those choices you made were the right ones. But being a good leader means listening to your people, and letting them do their jobs. Yelling at them constantly gets you nothing." Her voice softened then and she gave him a sad look. "Take that from an old pro."
"Margaret, I –"
"No, you were right. I expect perfection from those under my command, and my methods were - are - fierce and unrelenting. But all it got me was a camp full of people who despised me and one lousy half-relationship with an extremely dysfunctional man."
He took a step toward her, emboldened when she didn't step back. "Margaret, nothing you've ever done or will do warrants the way I – or anyone else – treated you, and I wanted you to be the first to hear it from me. I'm sorry." He tried to convey through his eyes that he meant just more than the last few days, and the way the smile played around her lips he knew she understood.
"Apology accepted," she finally gave him a soft smile, and he felt a weight lift from his shoulders. He grinned as she shook her head. "I hope this experience leaves a good mark on you," she continued. "Now you can appreciate the strain those of us in command are put under."
"You know, I'm still adamantly against people ordering others around, but I promise that in the future I will endeavor to 'appreciate the strain' a little more." She held out her hand for a handshake, then laughed as he grabbed it and pulled her against him.
"Pierce!" she wasn't mad, but he felt her tense in his arms. Lowering his mouth to her ear, he ignored her shiver as he spoke from his heart. It was hard for him to look her in the eye and tell her, so he closed his eyes and took a deep breath.
"Thank you for trying to be honest with me, even if I was acting like a heel. You are a wonderful, caring, driven woman who deserves nothing but the utmost respect. If I ever fail to give it to you, feel free to knock some sense into me. And if someone else fails, I hope you do the same." There was no doubt as to whom he was referring, and Margaret fiddled with her wedding ring absently behind his back.
It was no secret that she and Donald hadn't been on the best of terms lately, and she often ranted to Pierce when he was available. It was strange, she thought, that the one person she'd detested the most when she'd arrived had become her closest friend. But he always listened to her points, often agreeing with her, but telling her honestly when he didn't. And too many times he'd entered Radar's office after overhearing a heated phone argument, if only to keep her from trashing the clerk's semi-tidy space.
But now, in the solace of her tent and his arms, she felt relaxed and comfortable. When he pulled away and kissed her forehead, she closed her eyes. She wanted to ask what it was that he wanted from her, but she was afraid that talking about it would bring an end to his steady presence in her life. With a soft goodbye he was gone, leaving her completely baffled. The enigma that was her and Pierce's relationship continued to plague her mind as she lay down to sleep.
Next up: "Peace on Us"