Hawkeye shuffled out of his bedroom at a little past ten o' clock. He couldn't believe how badly his head hurt. He had the strangest dreams too. He stumbled into his small kitchen and began to make himself a cup of coffee. He froze as he saw a pair of black heels kicked by the end of the sofa. He hesitantly wandered into the next room; wondering if had brought someone's secretary home with him.
He saw her mop of blonde hair, that now resembled a pile a straw, and memories of the night before came flooding back into his mind.
He felt a stab of guilt at making her sleep on his lumpy couch in nothing but her thin dress. He shuffled towards his front door and grabbed a heavy jacket from the closet.
"Margaret, wake up." He tossed the jacket on top of her and her eyes jerked open. He walked into the kitchen, and by the time he came back with two cups of coffee, she was sitting up, his jacket wrapped tightly around her shoulders.
"Don't you keep a blanket in this damn house?" she mumbled.
Hawkeye chuckled and shook his head. "For the first three months I was here, I didn't even have sheets. I was never here long enough to sleep so I figured I would save myself the trouble of going to the store."
Margaret looked around the bare apartment in disgust. "What do you have in this house?"
"Gin, whiskey, scotch; you name it, I've got it." He smiled and handed her a steaming mug of coffee. "And of course, coffee."
Margaret snatched the cup from his hand and quickly began to sip at the steaming liquid. "Where's your phone? I need to call a taxi." She stated icily.
Hawkeye glared back at her. "I said I needed to talk to you. You're not going to leave until I do."
"Damn it Hawkeye," Margaret cursed. "You practically kidnap me, and then you make me sleep on a lumpy old couch, yell at me to wake up, shove a cup of disgusting coffee at me and then tell me that I can't go home!" Margaret had been whispering instead of shouting in an attempt to spare her head; it hadn't worked and she began to massage her forehead gently.
Hawkeye sat down beside her. "Who are you Margaret?"
She looked sideways at him and frowned. "Look Hawkeye I'm in no mood to play mind games. If you have something to say to me than say it."
"Now that one was Major Houlihan." Margaret sighed in exasperation and waited for his explanation.
"There're three of you. First, I met Hot Lips. She was a real pain but she sure was fun at a party." He grinned and Margaret rolled her eyes.
"Then Hot Lips slowly turned into Major Houlihan. Who, sadly, was a real bore at parties." Hawkeye smiled sadly and shook his head. "But after a while I began to see very tiny glimpses of Margaret Houlihan." Hawkeye's voice had grown very serious and very quiet.
"I would never see her very often, but when I did she would take my breath away."
Margaret's eyes widened, and she suddenly felt extremely uncomfortable with how close she was seated to him. "I still don't see your point…"
"I'm getting there." He interrupted firmly. "I just wanted you to know that Margaret Houlihan is an amazing woman. Sure Hot Lips and Major Houlihan have their moments but they can't even hold a candle to who I really know you are."
Margaret stared at the floor uncomfortably. And Hawkeye grabbed her left hand, playing with her ring.
"When I was watching you last night I couldn't decide if you had gone back to Hot Lips or the Major. Then I realized that you're both. You're such a horrible mixture of the two that they completely block out Margaret."
"You're crazy Pierce," Margaret mumbled. Her voice was husky and she stood up, trying to avoid letting Hawkeye see her eyes that were quickly filling with tears.
"Come on, I'll drive you back to the hotel." Margaret quickly made her way to the door. Hawkeye picked his jacket off the couch and laid it back across her shoulders. They were just about to leave the house when the phone rang.
He quickly apologized before running back inside. He came back in a moment, his face white. He grabbed her hand and dragged her towards his car.
"We're going to have to stop by the hospital first."