"Mail call, oh maestros of medicine," Klinger doled out envelopes to the officers at the table as they ate their morning meal. Gruel was ignored in favor of news from home, and the next few seconds were filled with the sound of paper being ripped open and letters unfolded.

"Hey, my dad sent me pictures from his birthday party!" Hawkeye pulled out some snapshots and passed them around. Margaret grabbed them from his hand and passed them to BJ without looking at them, her eyes trained on the letter in her hand.

"Wow, that must be some letter," BJ laughed. Margaret clutched the paper to her chest and shot him a glare.

"Mind your own business," she snapped. BJ shot Hawkeye a quizzical glance over her back, but the other surgeon just shrugged.

"Oh come on, Margaret, who's it from?" Hawkeye inquired. It took everything he had not to peer over her shoulder, but from his vantage point the handwriting looked male.

"It's from General Heizer, an old friend of my father's."

"General Doug Heizer, from the Army Corps of Engineers?" Colonel Potter piped up. "I knew him back in my days as a Captain. Real classy guy, always kept an eye out for his men."

"Yes, he says he'll be in Tokyo this weekend and wonders if I can come see him. Oh Colonel, could I?" She looked pleadingly at her commanding officer and he chuckled.

"Rein in the bottom lip, Major, a three day pass is yours." Margaret grinned from ear to ear as she finished her letter. Hawkeye returned to his a bit more tense than when he'd left it. Margaret's birthday was on Friday and he'd wanted to surprise her with a gift. He also thought it would be a great opportunity to tell her about his feelings, but now that she was going to Tokyo with "Doug the classy general", he would have to rethink his plans.

"That's not fair to her," BJ told him after Hawkeye bared his thoughts later in the Swamp. "She's proven to you that she's over her thing with Generals. Look at what happened when General Weiskopf came through." Hawkeye remembered last year when the man had all but promised Margaret a promotion if she slept with him, and how proud he'd been when she turned the man down.

"Yeah, I just wanted to do something special for her on her birthday; at least throw her a party!" He was pacing now, but BJ just went back to darning his socks.

"So go talk to her. At least she'll know you were thinking about her." Hawkeye stopped and stared at his friend, smiling at the man's wisdom.

"Never let it be said that you are not wise to the ways of women," he complimented before he walked out the door.

Margaret was packing when the knock came on her door. She knew who it was immediately and braced herself for the "debate" that was about to take place. Hawkeye was notoriously distrustful of her and her relationships with powerful men, but she'd thought he'd learned his lesson.

When she opened the door he stepped in quickly more out of habit than necessity. Neither of them was ashamed of their relationship, nor had any intention of trying to sneak around futilely. Instead, they decided to be discreet but not secretive, and it seemed to have worked out so far.

"I expected a visit from you," she told him as they sat on the bed.

"Yeah? So you're psychic now, huh?" His tone was more playful than malicious, so she let his sarcasm slide.

"Maybe a little," she shrugged. "So what did you need?"

"I thought you knew that already," he joked, and she rolled her eyes humorlessly. "Okay, I just wanted to tell you to have a good time in Tokyo. I wanted to throw you a party Friday night, but I guess spending time with family is important, too." She was stunned into silence by his words.

"You know my birthday?" It wasn't exactly the response he was hoping for, but he smiled anyway.

"It crossed my path the last time I was pay officer." She held his gaze for a second longer than normal, trying to find something in his eyes. When she didn't, she shook her head and went back to packing. "You thought I would be upset that you're spending the weekend with General Heizer."

"Now who's psychic," she gibed. "Okay, I'll admit, it did cross my mind. You're not exactly the most rational person either of us knows."

"BJ talked some sense into me before I could work myself into a froth. But if you'd like, I can go froth up and come back." He waggled his eyebrows at her playfully, then dodged quickly as she chucked a shirt at him. "That's a no, then?" Another article of clothing was tossed, and he caught the ball of socks before they connected with his head. He grabbed the shirt from where it had fallen on the floor and folded it up before placing both in her duffel.

"Just be careful," he told her seriously. Neither of them needed reminding of what happened the last time one of them had gone on R&R. Margaret doubted her jeep would stall out and lead to her capture by the enemy, but she didn't want to chance it.

"I will," she promised. "Anyway, Klinger promised to take me to Tokyo, so I won't be going alone." He nodded in approval – though she didn't need it – and lifted her hand to kiss her knuckles.

"Then I shall leave milady to finish packing." He moved to the door, turning to shoot one more gibe at her. "Oh, if anything comes up missing, it wasn't my idea." And he was gone, narrowly missing the shoe that was tossed his way. She huffed as she stomped over to retrieve it, but found herself chuckling at his antics.

Three days later, Margaret was packed and ready to go. Charles had graciously agreed to cover her lecture; she would have asked Hawkeye but Colonel Potter informed her that it had to be delivered by someone who held a rank higher than field officer. As she corralled Klinger into the jeep she couldn't help noticing the crowd of people dashing past.

Klinger was loading her luggage into the jeep at a snail's pace, and she squirmed in her seat as Hawkeye rushed past.

"Hey, what's all the commotion?" Klinger asked the doctor. Margaret felt Hawkeye's hand brushed her shoulder as he stopped next to the jeep.

"Oh nothing serious, we're just having a cow." His flippant attitude wasn't lost on her; the more jovial he was, the more he was hiding. He was gone before she could say anything, and Klinger made a fuss as he climbed reluctantly into the jeep. As they drove out of camp, Margaret caught Hawkeye's gaze from the makeshift stable. He allowed his worry to show through for the briefest of moments, then it was gone again. She tried to convey reassurance through her eyes, but she wasn't sure it got past her fear of being late to the airport. He turned away first, presumably when BJ had to get his attention for the cow, and Margaret was left watching his back fade into the distance.

"Figures," she muttered hours later, stuck in the middle of nowhere with Klinger and a dead jeep. At least they were in friendly territory, but that was the only thing going their way. Since she'd decided to take the "short cut," no one would be traveling by any time soon. And with twilight already falling, there was no way to get back to the main road in time to hitch a ride.

"Look, there's some blankets in the back. Stretch out here and try to get some sleep. I'll keep watch." She knew Klinger was trying to be nice to her since it was her birthday, but she didn't feel in a celebratory mood.

"I'm the officer here, not you. I'll be giving the orders," she snapped. He sighed and nodded as he stuck his head back under the jeep. Both of them knew it was pointless – the jeep wasn't going anywhere except on a tow truck – but she found herself appreciating his attempt to give her space. She walked to the storage area and extracted a thick wool blanket from the space. The front seats weren't an ideal place to sleep, but it beat the rocks on the ground.

She laid down and closed her eyes, fighting back the tears that threatened to fall. She refused to cry in front of an enlisted man, but with his nose and the rest of his face under the jeep he was unlikely to notice her faux pas. As she listened to the sound of him tinkering around, she wished it were Hawkeye here with her; he was good at keeping her mind off of danger, as well as making her feel better. She idly wondered what he was doing right now.

Hawkeye was grinning ear to ear as he and BJ entered the swamp. He'd never delivered a calf before, and he was feeling euphoric as they got ready for bed.

"Wasn't that amazing, Beej? Just, floom, and she was out. God, she was gorgeous."

"She's a little too young for you, Hawk," BJ shot back with a smirk. Hawkeye tossed his uniform jacket onto his footlocker and sat on his bunk to take off his shoes.

"Fine, joke all you want, but I am going to sleep tonight celebrating the miracle of life. I wonder who won the pool?" He laid back on his bunk as BJ hit the light. Seconds later he jumped out of bed and yanked on the light cord. "Oh my God, Beej…Klinger never came back." He slipped his feet into his boots and ran out the door before BJ could even get out of bed.

"Colonel Potter!" Hawkeye yelled, pounding on his CO's door. "Colonel!"

"What's the racket, Pierce?" the man asked bleary-eyed as he opened the door in his robe.

"Klinger never came back from Kempo, which means he never got to Kempo, which means he and Margaret are stranded out there somewhere!" The panic in Hawkeye's eyes would have been funny if he weren't so distraught.

"Simmer down," Potter laid a hand on his arm. "Kempo called this evening and said they're having a temporary layover of all personnel. Some dignitary is visiting and no one is allowed in or out till he leaves tomorrow morning. They probably got there before it went into effect, and Klinger's stuck till tomorrow."

"I'd like to call Tokyo, make sure Margaret got there."

Potter shook his head. "No, sir," he commanded. "The last thing you need to do is go checking up on her every time she steps a toe out of camp. Just let her be, Pierce. She'll be back on Sunday." BJ had arrived by this time and clapped his friend on the shoulder.

"Come on, we've had a full day. Get some rest, and you can call her tomorrow." Potter shot Hunnicutt a warning look, but the taller man shrugged. "It's her birthday tomorrow, Colonel. Surely you wouldn't deny her friends a chance to tell her happy birthday." Being the experienced man he was, Potter knew when he was beat.

"Alright, but not until tomorrow afternoon. And that's my final word," he held up a finger in warning before retreating back into his tent. BJ led Hawkeye back to the Swamp and settled him back down.

"I just can't shake this feeling like something's wrong, Beej," he told his friend.

"Believe it or not, that's pretty normal. When Peg and I first started dating seriously, I used to get this empty feeling in the pit of my stomach. Of course, I'd call her and she'd tell me to stop worrying so much and that I needed to find a hobby."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, so I took up doctoring and here I am," he jested. "Remind me to thank her when I get home."

Hawkeye rolled over onto his side to gaze out across the camp.

"Night Beej."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Are you alright?" he asked Margaret as the officers filed out of the mess tent after lunch. Her uniform was askew and her hair a mess, but she plastered a smile onto her face and hooked her arm through his.

"I'm perfectly fine," she returned. "I called Doug and he understands. I'll see him stateside when this whole damn war is over. How did things go here?" He started walking in no particular direction, his mind momentarily stunned at her blatant show of affection.

"Good, things here were good. That Levafet we got in did the trick, and she delivered on her own. It was amazing…I wish you could have been here." The grin on his face lightened her heart.

"You trading in your MD for a DVM?" she elbowed him in the ribs and he laughed.

"Nah, I enjoy the human body too much," he returned lewdly. She rolled her eyes at his comment, but grinned anyway. "Have you seen her yet? She's still in the stables, come on." He dragged her across the camp over to the three-walled structure where the calf was suckling on her mother's utter.

"Oh, she's a dear," Margaret knelt down and stroked the thick fur of the baby cow. The mother turned her head to inspect the newcomers, but when no threat was detected she returned to chewing cud. "Did the farmer name her yet?"

"He named her Gijeok. It's Korean for 'miracle.' This little girl almost didn't make it, and neither did her mother. That Levafet saved both of them." Hawkeye watched her fawn over the calf and smiled to himself.

"It was a lucky thing you were here to administer it," she commended. She petted the calf for a few more minutes, laughing as the animal drank on obliviously.

"You done?" he asked anxiously, and only at that moment did she realize Hawkeye had been acting strangely.

"You've been awfully jumpy today. You wouldn't be planning anything, would you?" She rose to her feet and eyed him warily as he held up his hands defensively.

"Me, planning something? How dare you make such an accusation!" he cried melodramatically. Then his voice dropped and he plastered a mischievous grin on his face. "Just because it's your birthday, you think I'm planning something?" She waited a beat before he dropped his hands in defeat. "Yes I am. BJ and I are throwing a party in your honor." She pressed her lips together firmly, and he read the disapproval on her face. "You don't like parties?"

"It's just another excuse for the camp to cause a raucous and dive headfirst into debauchery," she repeated the same spiel from the night before. "If it weren't my birthday, another meaningless holiday would work the same."

"Ah," he held up a finger to forestall her protest, "but it isn't a meaningless holiday. I managed to sneak a peek at your file. You are 30 this year, my dear Margaret, and that is what we call a milestone."

She stormed over and grabbed his sleeve roughly. "Don't go spreading it around, Pierce," she hissed.

"Don't worry," he assuaged her, removing her clenched fist from his arm and interlacing their fingers. "It's just a small gathering of your closest friends; me, BJ, Colonel Potter, and Charles. We've reserved the Officers' Club for the evening, and Klinger agreed to be our bartender d'jour." Margaret's stance relaxed considerably as she realized he hadn't invited the entire camp.

"Thank you," her tone was genuine as she let him lead her away from the stable. "What time?"

"Five o'clock," he responded. "Don't ask me what that is in military time; I still haven't got the hang of it."

"It's not that hard, Hawkeye, if it's after noon you just add twelve. Now, for instance, it's almost thirteen hundred hours." She knew he was just being obstinate, but also knew he couldn't resist his little revolutions every now and then. A couple years ago, she would never have guessed she'd be running around with a man as un-military as Hawkeye Pierce. He had shown up headstrong and railing against everything she stood for – order, discipline, regulations – and yet he'd tempered quite a bit from the unruly malcontent he had been when Trapper was here. She often wondered if BJ had something to do with his mellowing, but didn't dwell too much on it.

"What are you thinking about?" his voice cut through her thoughts and she was brought back to the present.

"Oh, nothing really. Just reminiscing on our first few weeks here. We were such different people then."

Hawkeye nodded in agreement. "I know. I often imagine stepping off the plane and walking toward my dad, only to have him not recognize me at all." His face was serious, and she felt a twinge of emotion at the slight distress tone.

"You and your father are very close, Ben. Besides – and do not let this run away with your ego – you're pretty unforgettable." He puffed up proudly, and she laughed at his histrionics as he strutted about. "Sometimes, that's not a good thing, Pierce," she added, wagging her finger at him.

"You really know how to wound a guy where it hurts," he said dejectedly. "But yeah, Dad's great. I remember after mom was gone, he let me skip school once a semester and we just went out and had a father/son day. We would go catch a ballgame in the city, or take a three day camping trip, just something away from home that was just the two of us." She watched his face light up as he talked about his dad, and she felt sad. Her father was proud of her – he'd told her as much earlier that year – but the relationship Hawkeye had with his father was easily enviable.

"I'd like for you to meet him," Hawkeye said finally. Her surprise must have been in her face because he continued quickly before she could interrupt. "I'd like for him to meet all of you; you've all come to mean so much to me." She knew his words were a cover for something deeper, but she wasn't ready to pry for more just yet. "I'm gonna go make sure everything's ready for tonight. I'll see you at seventeen hundred hours." He winked at her and dashed away, leaving her grinning in his wake.

At sixteen fifty, Margaret fluffed her hair one more time as a knock resounded on her door. Hawkeye stepped inside without invitation, and he leaned against the frame as he watched her getting ready. She ignored him for the time being, but felt his eyes following her as she moved to and fro. Finally, when everything was perfect, she turned toward him.

"Enjoying the show?" she raised her eyebrows inquisitively, and he grinned back at her.

"Always," he pushed himself away from the frame and took two steps toward her. "I have three gifts for you tonight," he told her, and she couldn't help the smile that broke out on her face. She loved receiving gifts, and loved even more that he thought so much of her.

"Three?" He leaned forward and captured her lips in a kiss. His hands splayed across her lower back as she gripped his lapels and tugged him closer. When they pulled apart he lifted his head and kissed her forehead softly.

"One," he whispered and stepped away. "Ready?" She took his proffered arm and let him lead her out the door and across the compound. As they entered the Officers' Club she was surprised to see the senior staff already there and mingling just as they would any other night. The only difference was the small pile of packages on the end of the bar.

When they walked in BJ stood and beckoned them over, drawing everyone's attention to her. She was wished a happy birthday by everyone as she and Hawkeye sat down at the large center table. Klinger dropped a glass of scotch in front of her and winked as he darted around delivering drinks and refilling chip bowls.

For almost an hour it was like any other gathering; BJ or Hawkeye would regale them with entertaining tales of their schooling – complete with acerbic gibes from Charles. Colonel Potter would tell stories from his happier times in his early years as an Army doctor, and Margaret found herself more in awe of the man she'd come to consider a second father.

"Alright, I think it's time for the birthday girl to open her presents," Hawkeye stood and walked to the bar to gather up the carefully wrapped packages. Margaret unwrapped each one with care, making sure to thank the giver heartily as her gifts piled up beside her. BJ had gotten her a winter coat from the Sears catalog, the one he and Hawkeye had sported last winter. She smiled as she remembered the rant she'd gone on when she found out she couldn't get one until next winter.

Next was Charles, who had gotten her a set of records for her phonograph. She found some classical ones she was sure he would like more than she, as well as some newer rock albums Hawkeye and BJ eyed with glee.

Colonel Potter – with the help of Klinger – had put together a picture album of the entire camp, including some of people long gone. She thanked them both with tears in her eyes before she reached for the last gift - Hawkeye's. Their relationship wasn't secret, just discreet, but it was still a shock when she ripped the wrapping away to find a slender black jewelry box. Inside was an exquisite silver bracelet adorned with various stones.

"It's all of our birthstones," he elaborated as she carefully extracted the delicate piece from its foam protection.

"It's beautiful, Ben, thank you." He smiled at her and took it, gently fastening it around her right wrist. He kissed her hand quickly, but didn't let go as he let their intertwining fingers drop between them. The others felt a bit awkward at witnessing such a tender moment, but BJ broke the tension as he clapped his hands together once.

"And now, the song." Klinger had disappeared momentarily, but reappeared holding a rather lopsided cake with three candles burning brightly on top. As her friends began a chorus of "Happy Birthday" she locked eyes with Hawkeye. BJ was leading the song with gusto, and she'd fully expected Hawkeye to be backing him up loudly. But his voice was soft as he gripped her hand firmly, his eyes shining with an emotion she couldn't define.

"Blow out the candles, Margaret," Colonel Potter seemed eager to dive into the cake, and she obliged by taking a deep breath. The candles extinguished immediately and her friends clapped as she divvied out the pieces. It was awful, but she'd expected nothing else, and nobody ate more than one or two obligatory bites before discarding their plates.

"Well, as much fun as I've had at this shindig, I think I'm going to hit the sack." BJ helped Klinger clean up as Charles made a hasty exit, but not before wishing Margaret a happy birthday once again. Potter did the same and disappeared out the door after him.

"You alright, Beej?" Hawkeye tossed their uneaten cake in the trash as BJ wiped down the bar.

"Yeah, Klinger and I will be fine. You go on." Hawkeye flashed his friend a grateful smile and helped Margaret gather up her gifts.

"Shall we be off, milady?" he gave a short bow and she rolled her eyes good-humoredly. With his arms laden he still managed to open the door for her, though she had to manage her tent door for him. He deposited her things onto her bed upon her instruction and turned to exit.

"Wait," her voice stopped him and he braced himself. Taking a deep, cleansing breath he turned around to face her with a smile on his face.

"Does my lady wish more of me?" he asked in a stuffy Shakespearean lilt, though somehow he still managed to sound racy.

"No it's not that, it's just…" she trailed off, unsure of how to ask her question without sounding greedy.

"Ah," Hawkeye dropped his accent, "you want your third gift. How silly of me to forget."

"It's not that I'm not absolutely flattered by the bracelet, it means a great deal to me. It's just you've gotten me wondering." She tried to sound as casual as possible, but her curiosity was getting the better of her. She watched him take another deep breath and quickly wondered what could have him so worked up.

"Perhaps you'd better sit down," he told her, gesturing toward the bed. She shoved the presents aside gently and perched on the edge, watching as he shoved his hand into his pocket. She felt her heart quickening, but dismissed the immediate thought that popped into her head. There was absolutely no way he was about to do what she thought he was.

"Margaret, I think you know you mean a great deal to me. Over the past years, we've become colleagues, friends, lovers." He said the last word with such emotion that Margaret almost forgot how often that epithet was applied to Hawkeye. That's not fair, she scolded herself, he's proved to you he's changed. They hadn't done anything more than steal kisses since that one night of intimacy months ago, but she thought about it often. The sheer fact that he hadn't pushed her for anything more was proof enough for her that he was making a serious effort, and she felt her heartbeat quicken at the thought.

"Margaret?" his voice pulled her from her inner monologue and she shook her head clear.

"I'm sorry, Hawkeye. Go on." He looked warily at her, but continued anyway.

"Do you remember that night in that hut, when you told me what Donald had done?" She nodded shallowly, her heart pounding at the remembrance of heartache. "It killed me, Margaret." He pulled his hand from his pocket, and she realized it was clenched into a fist. He was nervous, and probably scared, but he carried on anyway. "You were in pain, and I tried to help you. But in the end, I just made things worse. I was just…so scared of losing someone that I never let anyone that close to me after Carlye." The walls were down now, and she could see the rawness of truth in his eyes. She stood to meet him in the middle, grabbing his hand to give him strength as he struggled to continue.

"I was wrong that night," he told her, and her confusion was evident on her face. He lifted one hand to cup her cheek as he elaborated. "I told you that nothing could ever come of us because we're so different. But I think it's those differences that make us work. You've become so much more to me than a friend, than a lover. We've been through so much together, and we're both better for it. You've yelled at me when I needed it and comforted me when I didn't want it. You are my constant; without you, I would be lost."

For a moment she said nothing as she stared into his eyes. He opened his mouth to say something else when she felt her knees give out. Luckily she was next to him and he snaked an arm around her waist as her vision blurred and she slumped against him.

"Margaret? Are you alright?" He led her back to the bed and sat her down gently.

"Yes, I just…" she trailed off, uncertain how to respond to his heady declaration.

"I wanted today to be special – to be a day you'd always remember." He stood up tall and ran his knuckles lovingly down her face. "You don't have to say anything, Margaret. You've had a rough couple of days and you should rest." He kissed her forehead gently and cleared away her gifts so she could lie down.

"Ben?" her soft voice called out as he extinguished her lamp. He felt his way to the bed and grasped her outstretched hand.

"Today was the perfect birthday. Thank you." He smiled down at her, even though she couldn't see, and squeezed her hand.

"Goodnight, Margaret."

"Goodnight, Ben."

Next up: "Where There's a Will, There's a War"