"Why are you in my bed?" Margaret groaned as she woke up the next morning with a massive hang over and Hawkeye in her bed.
Margaret looked over at Hawkeye and rolled her eyes. She didn't remember how he got there and she wasn't really upset about it. He was lying in her bed sleep, his hair was a mess, his bare body was covered only by a sheet and she had to admit he looked good. She was tempted to get back in the bed but thought better of it.
Racing her hand threw her hair Margaret screamed.
"Ahhhh!"
"What the hell?" Hawkeye cried springing forward and quickly grabbing his head as he felt the effects of a hang over.
"What did we do?" Margaret asked holding out her hand that was fashioned with a large diamond ring.
"Pull up a seat Major," Hawkeye greeted as Margaret approached the bar.
"What are you doing here?" Margaret asked despondently. "What happened to your little Mademoiselle?"
"I don't know? I went to the room and she wasn't there. She left no message she's just not there," Hawkeye said taking another shot. "Why aren't you with your Brigade General?"
"He had to leave. One drink and then a phone call. He had to go to - get this San Francisco!" Margaret cried.
"Bartender can we get a couple drinks here?" Hawkeye ordered. "Take a seat you have a lot of drinking to make up for."
"Why me?" Margaret asked Hawkeye after an hour of drinking.
"Why me what?" Hawkeye asked motioning for a refill.
"Every year," Margaret began. "Every year my birthdays get worse and worse. Well, I suppose last year I was on the side of the road but at least I had a cake…. of sorts."
"Birthday? Whose birthday?"
"Mine!" Margaret cried slamming down her glass. "My birthday! And I'm officially old!"
"How old?"
"Thirty! Thirty!" Margaret said as she began to cry.
"Margaret?" Hawkeye asked his voice stabilizing - sort of - as he notice she was genuinely upset. "Are you okay?"
"No! I'm thirty! And what do I have to show for it?"
"You're a Major," Hawkeye offered.
"The army! That's what I have! The army," Margaret said wiping tears from her face. "I wanted a family. I wanted a home - not just a house but a home and I don't even have that. I have a tent! I wanted kids. I wanted to be a Mom. Hell, I wanted to be a wife. But I failed at that."
"You didn't fail."
"I failed. That's why -" Margaret paused and lowered her voice. "I'm a divorcee. I hate birthdays."
Margaret and Hawkeye sat at the bar and continued to nurse their drinks.
"I didn't get you a gift."
"You can pay for the drinks," Margaret said motioning to the bartender that she wanted another.
"I can do you one better, I can cross one of the things off the list. I'll marry you."
"What?" Margaret asked looking over at Hawkeye.
"Yeah, yeah," Hawkeye said becoming excited. "You can be Mrs. Margaret Pierce. You wanted to be married by 30. You can be married. One out of three ain't bad."
"I want a ring," Margaret said a smile spreading across her face. "A big one. An expensive one, not the cheap one I got from Donald Duckface."
"One expensive ring. I need a pen. Ah thank you sir. " Hawkeye said looking for a pen to make a list and taking one out of the pocket of the man next to him. "What else?"
"What else?" Margaret repeated searching her mind for what she wanted as a young girl. "A white dress. That I choose. Not Klinger."
"A white dress." Hawkeye said writing it down.
"A priest."
"I need a Catholic wedding. Ah! And a church! I want to get married somewhere with walls," Margaret said remembering her other wedding that took place in the middle of a war. "And a cake! A layered cake with raspberry filling."
"Alright. All available at your local black market - well possibly not the priest," Hawkeye said standing up with shaky legs. "Attention everyone! I would like to inform you all that this beautiful thirty year old woman has agreed to marry me! Round of drinks for everyone!"
"What idiot would marry us?" Margaret cried appalled.
"Stop screaming," Hawkeye begged laying down and pulling a pillow over his head. "Good, God if we were as drunk as I feel -"
"How did we pay for this?" Margaret asked walking over to the other side of the room and picking up a beautiful white wedding gown.
"I think we gambled," Hawkeye said reluctantly sitting up. "Oh my head. Stop the banging."
"I'll get it," Margaret said walking over to the door.
"Good afternoon Mrs. Pierce," a young Korean boy greeted.
Margaret cringed at the title. "What do you want?"
"Pictures. Yours," the boy said handing her an envelop. "Mister promised a 20 if I got them by today."
"Wonderful!" Margaret exclaimed throwing her hands in the air. "Hold on."
Margaret walked over and found Hawkeye's pants and was surprised to find a pile of money.
"We must have been very lucky yesterday," Margaret said taking a bill and going back to the door. "Here. Thanks."
"Who was that?" Hawkeye asked once Margaret returned to the bedroom.
"A boy. With our wedding pictures," Margaret said tossing the envelope on the bed and grabbing some clothes.
"Where are you going?"
"To find a lawyer. Get a divorce. Another one," Margaret said shaking her head and going to the bathroom.