I didn't know when my old and odd commanding officer, Colonel Flagg, was coming to see me, so I prepared myself everyday for him. He was a man of many surprises (so he thinks) and has popped up in places in different outfits and under new names, even going so far as to have a book of his identities on him (along with the accompanying costumes). It made me automatically know that it was him because I knew them all, having copied his little book of disguises and memorized them when I was in West Germany. The gig was up and the patterns had been set, although they could have changed since I last saw him. I was not fooled and wasn't going to be when he arrived.

This was why Henry put me up on a "Flagg Watch", seeing as how he doesn't like him as much as anybody else does (and is scared of him, I could tell). He's also tired of his office being taken over and the camp put into shambles because of it, the last being when Flagg decided to use some medical equipment to break his arm (luckily, I was not there for that and missed him by some minutes). The only two people who like Flagg are Margaret and Frank, who both have commented upon his saving the true American way of life from the Communists Menace several times over and were very anxious to see him.

I thought myself lucky that I missed Flagg all those other visits, when he was bananas, crackers and just plain nuts. To hear the majors speak of my former commanding officer that way, even in discussion with said person (or so I heard happen), would make me sicker than I already was. It was bad enough that I was throwing up every morning without fail and it wasn't easing up much, although that false sense of security did me in. To be on alert was torture almost and worse was not knowing when he'd drop in and what mischief he had up his sleeve.

Hawkeye sometimes stayed with me when I spied about on the compound, joining me on walks in the fields when he wasn't tired from being on duty or sleeping in. We've mostly went in the afternoons, but I still like the mornings after throwing up, when the dew dripped tears down its stocky arms and it was quiet. Throughout those early days of April, when I thought that I could not bear to carry a child anymore, there was Hawkeye, always sitting with me, watching me, talking to me, just like we used to, and the baby the least on our minds. Although abortion was still open to me and I knew where to go, I had no made a move yet for odd some reason. Spotting Colonel Flagg seemed more interesting, although I had an idea something inside of me was changing. I just did not know how and why.

"The nurses seem to hate you more and more by the day," Hawkeye commented once as we sat together on a blanket near the landmines. "Nurse Kellye and Major Baby seem to be the only ones talking to you."

"Margaret just asks me if I'm ok every other day and Kellye is just a sweetie anyway." I was quiet for a minute, letting my pants become wet as I let my knee brush against some grass, a comfort to me many times over. "Kellye has been trying to talk me out of the abortion. She's been the only voice. However, I'm sure Margaret could care less. With her still yelling at me about my 'bumbling' behavior still, even when I'm not allowed in the OR, she could tell me in so many ways she cares."

"No, she does care, in her own way, but she doesn't like showing it. She likes herself to be the antagonist out of all of us." Hawkeye rolled over and up from his sitting position and cupped my chin into his hand, looking into my eyes as I squirmed in his grip. "And I care too, Jeanie. You know my opinion on this. At this point, if you didn't want the baby, after about four months, you'd be up and gone and your career – and position here – would be saved. You'd still be here and be working with us more often."

"Hawkeye, I don't –"

"Don't say it, Jeanie. Don't say that you don't care about your career because you do. You also care about your baby in a way. Otherwise, it'll be gone by now. You care too much about life, just like the rest of us, and could hardly bear it. It's too precious to waste."

I was stunned into silence. Hawkeye had never reproached me about anything before. He and I argued hotly about this abortion topic for about a month (despite him saying I could do as I wished), but he's never made a point like that before. In my heart then, I also saw that he was right.

And how had Hawkeye known so much about me? Well, he had known me for about seven months. That was from September of 1950 until the day of our talk, on April 11, 1951. Still, that was a long time (not quite a year) and one that seemed like a lifetime already. Yet, so much has already happened between us since that night at the Swamp. He and I spent our first night talking and then kissing right afterward. I was on Cloud Nine shortly afterward and enjoying being within his attention and not sharing him. However, in a short amount of time, we've had to face up to adversary and disaster. Finally, we have a baby within this sphere, at the prime of our unique relationship, and I couldn't tell if it was going to be the continuation or the end of it.

Is this the end of everything? Is the honeymoon period over, as they say it usually is? Will I ever feel this way again?

I hoped that this was not the end, although I did not see it anytime soon. I loved Hawkeye too much to let him go just yet. If he wanted to release me from our commitment sometime, because he did not love me anymore…well, I'll cry harshly and have a broken heart, but I'll live. I've lived without Falk, who I had considered to be the same, and he's been dead and gone for over a year. I can live without Hawkeye for sure.

Empty of all thoughts though, I then looked into Hawkeye's eyes and stopped squirming in his grip. Smiling at him as he let go of my chin gently, I went for a kiss as my reply. He returned it, with more passion than I ever had. Soon, he had me in his arms, rolling me on top of him so that he could see me. He then tried taking my pants off with one hand, yanking on what was left of the belt and glide them down. His other hand snapped my bra off from the back and tried pulling it off of my shoulders.

"Hawkeye, this isn't right," I said with new realization of what I was carrying within me. It was a great responsibility, a feeling which surprised me. "Are you sure I'll be ok this way?"

In-between our many new kisses afterward, Hawkeye laughed. "I thought a little adventure would not hurt you…"

I went for another kiss to shut Hawkeye up and succeeded, laughing with him as our lips kept meeting over and over again. Soon, I was in his arms and trying to get his clothes off, gently swaying with the grass as it whipped with the wind. I felt my head twist and then rest in the crook of Hawkeye's shoulder as we lay there half-naked, relieved that it was finally at some peace. He, on the other hand, continued to gently play with me, occasionally kissing me, but always trying to open up my shirt some more.

"Ah, the wonders of motherhood have never stopped me from being youthful and sometimes stupid," I replied as we settled down, feeling changed for some reason, going from surprised to worried.

Was motherhood really changing me all of a sudden? Hawkeye's right. Something in me wants the baby, no matter what I say about things. I'm very selfish and stupid, but I love.

Hawkeye suddenly stopped playing with me, suddenly realizing how heavy I was on top of him. "Damn, Jeanie, what am I going to do with you three months from now?"

"How am I supposed to know?" I shrugged my shoulders. "Hawkeye, all I know is that you're right. And sometimes, I hate really it when you are." I kissed him again on the mouth, hotly and with as much passion as I could muster under the new revelation I had.

The chief surgeon of the 4077th only smiled in reply, continuing to hold in as I muzzled into his shoulder more, putting more weight on top of him. However, I could tell that he wasn't too happy with me on top anymore because of the weight and his determination to never exercise in this place (much to Frank's chagrin). I guess that would wait until I've been popped and we're back to normal again, if things were going as I think they were. Although I had wondered if things would ever be the same way.

"Here, why don't we switch positions?" I rolled off of Hawkeye, aware of how uncomfortable he was being on the bottom, and laid on the ground on my back, pulling his head to my stomach.

I think Hawkeye liked it. He stayed there, cuddling against my enlarging breasts, and feeling everywhere he could. It was kind of gross to me, to be honest, but Hawkeye seemed to have liked it more, using them as pillows more often than his own in the Swamp. He explored every new shape on my body without me caring at all, even if earlier I was happy with him playing with my shirt and pants. It excited him, invigorated him, and made him almost like a child himself.

I guess our honeymoon period is still on.

"I could say how cheesy this moment is, but I'm enjoying it too much," he said very quietly. "Pass the wine?"

I cuddled against Hawkeye, sensing a romantic moment about to interrupted soon. "I like this too. And you're right about how cheesy this moment feels. Yet it feels…kind of right."

Suddenly, our moment was spoiled, just as we sensed. Radar, running out of breath as he was running up the hill, came into our view, the tall grass around us obscuring him until he was right in front of us. He was short enough to be hidden, so I would not have known he was there had he not stepped in front of the afternoon warmth and made himself known, like an ominous dark cloud obscuring the sun.

"Oh, so sorry, Sirs!" Radar then yelled, saluting and seeing the tangled mess on the ground, our tangled clothes especially.

"Radar, what is it?" Hawkeye sounded pretty irritated, knowing too that our alone time was over too soon. "This had better be good or I'll be shrinking you down to a size peanut instead of leaving you at walnut. And that's an Army demotion, if I ever saw one."

Poor Radar seemed too scared for words. "Hawkeye, Sir, there's a man down there pretending to be a man in uniform, a rabbi, and he is scary and then there's –"

I sighed audibly, interrupting Radar. "It's only Colonel Flagg again, Radar. There's nothing to be frightened about this time. Just let him into Colonel Blake's office and wait for me there with the colonel. He's bound to reveal who he is soon enough and call me in."

Radar, in return, looked relieved at the answer, but was worried about the person being Colonel Flagg. "Thank you so much, Sir. Gee, whiz, that was Colonel Flagg? I never knew! He looks so spiffy in that uniform and that book of his."

"He's called 'The Wind' for a reason, Radar," I said with an eye roll and pulling my clothes back into position, pushing Hawkeye off and moaning about our precious, romantic moment being spoiled. I can live with it (I usually did) and only thrived on seeing how creepy Flagg was this time around. "Come on, everybody. Let's head back to the compound."