AN: Okay, so I know I said I'd be updating on Tuesday from now on, and that will normally be the case, but I'm releasing this one early in celebration of M*A*S*H Fan Art Day on tumblr (8/4/2017). Fan art by all of us can be found here ? search/mashfanart
Much love, Ameliorably (majorfrustration).
The whispers start as soon as they enter the mess tent. Margaret clenches her jaw but is unable to stop her face from turning pink. It's like some kind of walk of shame, but worse.
Frank's beady eyes roam the room as he notices her discomfort, "What's going on, what are they saying?"
"Oh, probably just some stupid rumour, I didn't hear all of it," Margaret waves her hand dismissively, feeling her panic levels rising.
Frank glares at the offenders who raise amused eyebrows back at him and start tittering amongst themselves, "I'll put them on report!"
Margaret says nothing, her face is still flushed, and her eyes dart around nervously.
Frank's bemused by her behaviour, "You alright, honey bun?"
"Oh fine, just a bit under the weather, I really need to get more sleep," she laughs awkwardly.
A hush descends over the tent as Hawkeye and Trapper walk in, and Margaret looks down, her face reddening further.
"Hi kids," Hawkeye says far more casually than he feels.
"What on earth is going on!
"Oh, didn't you hear, Frank? There's a rumour going around that Margaret and I had sex last night, but pay no attention to them, it's all true."
"It is not!" Margaret grinds out
Frank is outraged, "Why you...I'll bet you started it!"
"Wasn't me, did you do it, Trap?"
"Wasn't me, either."
"Must have been someone else."
For a moment it's not clear whether Margaret's going to strangle them or faint. "Come on, Frank," she says, tugging on his elbow slightly desperately, "let's get breakfast."
The Majors eat their meal in silence. Margaret's concentrating desperately hard on her breakfast, trying to appear normal, and Frank is eyeing everyone suspiciously while he tries to figure out what's going on. Margaret can feel eyes boring into the side of her head, and, when she eventually turns to look, iss unsurprised to find Hawkeye looking at her. She whips her attention back to breakfast the second her eyes meet his, resisting the urge to bolt for the door.
"Morning, Majors," Henry says as he enters the tent, giving Margaret a wide grin before moving on, "Pierce, McIntyre... I hear you had quite a night last night, Pierce. In fact, the whole camp did," Henry smirks at Hawkeye before his eyes settle on Margaret.
"Colonel!" protests Frank, but Margaret's had enough. If she has to take any more of this she'll explode. She slams down her cutlery and storms from the tent."
Frank's mouth is wide open as he tries to decide whether following her is a good idea. She's slightly terrifying when she's in one of these moods, and he's pretty sure she's hiding something.
Hawkeye scowls, unimpressed, "Nice going, Henry."
Frank's jaw drops, and Trapper and Henry exchange raised eyebrows,
"Feeling a little responsible are we, Hawk?" quips Trapper.
"Y'know, I think I think I've had enough breakfast for one lifetime," he says, striding out of the tent in the direction of The Swamp.
Henry turns to Trapper, "Well they're happy."
Frank watches entire exchange carefully, his beady eyes taking it all in. Maybe, just maybe, there might be something to this "rumour".
It's not unlike Margaret to be upset at being intimately linked to that degenerate, but for Pierce to be crowing about being rumoured to have slept with her one minute, and then upset that she'd been upset the next? Frank smelled a rat. A big rat. He finishes his meal and then carefully clears away his and Margaret's trays, behaving in what he considers to be a calm way befitting an officer. Someone had to uphold standards, and it didn't look like she was. He was going to confront her.
His first thought had been that there was no way his Margaret would lower herself to being with such a man, but the more he thinks about it, the less sure of that he is. She'd always seemed to enjoy his surprise kisses a little too much, but then other times she'd seemed to despise Pierce just as much as he did. That's it, he's going to go over there and demand to know the truth.
Trapper and Henry watch him march purposefully out of the mess tent,
"Uh oh, looks like things are about to get ugly."
"I'll say," Trapper said, slowly chewing his breakfast.
Frank raps sharply on her door,
"Margaret? Margaret, I demand you open up this instant."
"What is it, Frank?"
"It's true, isn't it?"
"What are you talking about, what's true?"
"You slept with Pierce. You spent last night in your tent with him letting him do...unspeakable things to you."
"How could you say such a thing!"
"I know you're lying to me, Margaret."
She sighs, "Fine. Yes, I spent last night with him."
"After all we've been to each other, how could you!"
"We were drunk! It was a one off, a mistake, and anyway, mister, you're one to talk, you're married!"
"This affair is over, Margaret. It's one thing to have you sleeping around whenever there's a general in town, but this is taking things too far! You outrank him!"
"Take your, weak chinned, lipless face and get out!"
"And I suppose Pierce's lips are better?"
"OUT!"
As the door slams behind him she picks up a bottle of perfume he'd bought her last trip to Tokyo and throws it at where he'd been standing. Coloured glass shatters everywhere, and her tent is filled with the scent of cheap, Japanese perfume. She throws herself onto her bunk and screams into her pillow. Nice going, Houlihan. There goes your only ally for miles. It had already been becoming clear he was never going to marry her, it had been just one excuse after another, but part of her had still been hoping. Now she had nothing, no one! All over one stupid night. It's not like Pierce was ever going to stop chasing any old nurse, and she's not sure she'd have him even if he did. If the worst did happen, she was going to be left in a terrible position.
Hawkeye's lying on his cot when the door flies open and Frank marches in,
"Y'know, Pierce, you've done me some kind of favour. It's one thing to know that she sleeps with Generals, but that she'd lower herself to a degenerate like you? She's completely beneath me. She's not worth the brass on her collar."
"Oh and you are? She's a better doctor than you, and she's a nurse!"
"If she's so good, you have her."
Hawkeye thumbs his nose at him and picks up his notepad and a pen from beside his bed. He doesn't have a good comeback for that, not now. He doesn't want to think too hard about the future, especially not where she's concerned. He feels the need to confess.
Dear Dad,
Something improbable happened last night, something I'd considered impossible: Major Margaret Houlihan and I shared a moment last night, a long moment, of the adult kind. Now normally that wouldn't be a problem other than trying to avoid her resulting wrath and self loathing, but last night she and I forgot something, something crucial. She's not interested in talking to me at the moment, but now I'm stuck constantly wondering whether we've created a life and what the hell it will mean if we have.
To make matters worse, Frank Burns has just dropped her like a hot potato for our night together. He used to pretend he didn't know she enjoys entertain visiting brass in her tent, and now he's dumped her as special punishment for being with me, and yet he's the married man. Talk about hypocrisy.
I haven't spoken to her about it, but on the off chance she is pregnant, would you be willing to have her come live with you in Crabapple Cove? From what I've heard the only thing her family is big on is the army, and this would be decidedly a disappointment in that regard. I can't imagine they'd be too pleased with her. This of course depends on whether she is and whether she'll even accept my help, but I can't put it from my mind. It's really bothering me.
I'll let you know as soon as I know one way or the other,
Your stupid son,
Hawkeye.