As soon as Margaret's feet hit the dust of camp she makes a beeline for her tent. She knows she should probably report to Colonel Blake, he is her superior after all, but to hell with it. Papers were filed in Tokyo, none of it matters anymore. She's vaguely aware she's starting to behave like Pierce, but she stopped caring somewhere between here and Tokyo. She drops her bags unceremoniously with a thud but doesn't unpack. Again, what's the point? She'd have her travel orders in two to three days. She should be shovelling things into her bags, because god only knew when they'd actually come through. Margaret manages about 30 seconds alone in her tent before someone knocks on her door. She lets out a loud sigh and goes to open it. It's either Hawkeye or Radar telling her Henry wants to see her, and she'd put money on the former.
"Who is it?"
Hawkeye's voice sounds from the other side of the door, "It's just me, Major."
Of course it is. Wordlessly she stands aside to allow him entry.
It's a long moment before either of them speaks, neither eager to even look at one another, their silence hanging between them heavy with words unsaid.
Hawkeye clears his throat, giving in to his usual compulsion to say something, anything.
"I, uh, arranged it all with dad. I'll send him your travel plans when you know what they are and he'll meet you when you get in."
She nods awkwardly, "Thank you."
There's another long pause before Hawkeye breaks the silence once again.
"So, how was Tokyo?"
"Oh, y'know, fine. They filed the necessary papers and I should get my travel orders in the next few days. I should go and talk to Colonel Blake."
"Okay."
"I'll, uh, see you around."
He hesitates before swooping in and kissing her on the cheek. He leaves without another word.
Margaret's left stunned, standing with her cheeks aflame. Things with him have become all emotion and no clarity. It's all swirling tumultuously around in her head and she can make neither head nor tail of any of it. She can remember what they were, she just has no idea what they are, or worse, what they'll have to be. She's trying desperately not to think about the fact that she's about to go and stay with his father, she can't stand worrying about whether it will or won't work out.
Another knock on the door brings her back to reality.
"Uh, Major Houlihan, m'am? Colonel Blake requests to see you in his office right away on account of the thing that you and Captain Pierce-"
She cuts him off before he can air any more of her dirty laundry out in the open, "Coming, Corporal."
Trapper's lounging on his bunk, reading when Hawkeye returns, and Frank is humming some sort of patriotic tune as he gets himself dressed.
This morning it's enough to send Hawkeye over the edge . "Get out, Frank!"
"This is my tent, and you can't order me around, you're only a Captain!"
"Get out, Frank, or breakfast this morning will be a knuckle sandwich."
They stare each other down before Frank decides to leave, having detected a note of seriousness in the other man.
Hawkeye quickly pulls the kimono from his robe and shoves it in his footlocker.
Trapper watches silently, studying his friend with a curious concern, "You okay, Hawk?"
"It's just, why does everything have to be so complicated!"
"I presume you're talking about your business with our soon to be ex Head Nurse?"
"Yeah, I mean, what is she to me? Nothing! We had a night together! But I can't shake her, Trap, and the fact that she's going home is really throwing me."
"Well, she pregnant, and it is yours."
"Yeah, but that was an accident! It doesn't give me any right to feel like this!"
"And she's going not going to her home, she's going to yours."
"But what difference does that make!"
"Maybe it's her way of saying "maybe" to that question you haven't asked."
"Or maybe she's lonely or scared, or is just going there until she finds something better, it doesn't mean anything!"
Trapper shoots Hawkeye a dark, exasperated look, "Fine, have it your way. Here," he says offering the only form of comfort he has left, "have a Martini."
Margaret looks around her tent, mentally taking inventory of all the things she's managed to accumulate in her short stay. There was no way she's going to be able take all the exotically labelled beauty products she's accumulated with her, or her lamp. She walks over to supply and grabs an empty box and starts loading the glass bottles into it. She's sure the nurses will find a use for them.
While packing she resolutely does not allow reality to set in. She can't, she won't, or she'll turn into the teary mess she fears she'll become. Any future she can imagine cuts off with her arriving in Hawaii on the way back.
She sighs impatiently at herself before unzipping her garment bag and opening her wardrobe. She starts pulling things out, packing all but one slip and her robe. She'll need them between now and then.
Margaret stops and rifles through her clothes again. There's a kimono missing. Frank. It had to have been Frank.
"Urgh, that creep!" she mutters to herself.
Frank had always liked that robe, they'd had some good times together while she'd been wearing it.
She rolls her eyes. She supposed she had better go and ask for it back, besides, he'd still never returned her Doris Day scrapbook.
She finds Frank near the Mess Tent, "Major Burns."
He sneers at her, "Oh what do you want?"
"I think you know. You've been in my tent, my favourite silk kimono is missing. I'd like it back, please."
"This whole pregnancy business must be going to your head, I have no idea what you're talking about."
"I don't believe you," she hisses.
"I don't have to stand here and listen to these accusations, especially not from someone like you," he snaps.
She sputters, incredulous, voice rising in octave and tone, "Someone like me? Just what do you mean by that!"
"Well it really is your own fault that you're in this situation, sleeping with anyone, anywhen. You're not even fit to be called a Major in the US Army!
"Says he who's never been without a mistress, how dare you!" Margaret bursts into tears of rage. What is this, hormones? She swears she used to be better at controlling herself.
"The sooner they kick you out of here, the better, you're a disgrace!"
Their yelling has drawn a crowd, Hawkeye and Trapper among them
"Hey," yells Hawkeye, rounding on Frank, What's going on here! What did you say to her!"
"Oh look, your boyfriend is here," Frank's tone is vicious.
Hawkeye places a hand on Margaret's shoulder, "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine," she says, nodding tightly, clenching her jaw, in an attempt to fight back another wave of tears, but Frank's not finished.
"You two are going to have fun when that bastard child of yours gets here!"
In one swift move Hawkeye's fist connects with Frank's jaw, laying him out flat in the dirt.
"Pierce!" A red faced Henry comes marching towards them, "Pierce, my office, now!"
"But Henry-"
"Now, Pierce. Make sure he hasn't concussed Burns, will you McIntyre?"
Margaret makes lingering eye contact with Hawkeye before he turns and follows Henry. She has no idea what any of this means. Robe be damned, she's going back to her tent.
"But Henry, you should have heard some of the abuse he was hurling at her."
"Come on, Pierce, you know that playing the concerned boyfriend like that is only going to antagonise him more, though I guess she'll be gone in a day or so, so it doesn't really matter."
"Concerned boyfriend! What's that supposed to mean?"
"Look, it's alright, it's understandable, after all you did get her pregnant, that does imply some level of intimacy."
"Haven't you never heard of a one night stand?Why does everyone assume we're going to to be an item because she's pregnant?"
"Well maybe because you're acting every bit like you've got feelings for her, then there's the fact that she's going to your home, not hers."
"Can you imagine a pair of people less suited to each other?"
"Sure I can. You saw Frank and her. Hell, look at Frank and his wife."
"Gee thanks, that's real reassuring. She and I are better than Frank Burns with anyone. So's Radar and one of his guinea pigs."
"Look, I'll tell Burns to stay away from Houlihan, but you also need to stop antagonising him. Is it true that you threatened to give him a knuckle sandwich if he didn't leave what is also his tent?"
"He was asking for it!"
"Look, we all know Burns is a pain in the ass, but that doesn't mean you can go around knocking his teeth out whenever you feel like it."
Radar sticks his head into Henry's office, "Um, excuse me, sirs."
"What is it, Radar?"
"Major Houlihan's travel orders just came through, she'll be leaving in thirty minutes."
Hawkeye's up from his seat and out the door before Henry can say another word.
"Dammit, Pierce," he mumbles.
"Should I still go and tell her, sir?"
"Yeah, who knows where he's off to."
It's really happening. She's leaving. She finds herself again in the surreal haze of denial.
She never ever imagined she'd be leaving Korea like this.
When Radar had told her she had half an hour she'd raced around her tent, shoving anything she'd missed into her duffel bag, and now she stands on the chopper pad, the blades on her ride out of here slicing through the air.
Two to three days her ass. The nurses had been pleased to have some new things to play with.
Margaret looks at the group of people waiting to bid her farewell, her eyes blurring once more with tears, but really she's looking for one person in particular. She spots him standing amongst the crowd next to Trapper and Henry,
"So," she starts, feeling like she has to say something.
"Margaret-", he starts, but instead of finishing what he started to say he steps forward and sweeps her into his arms. She gasps as his face makes contact with her neck. Before she can respond he pulls back to study her, before gently bracing her face with his hands and pulling her forward, kissing her forehead. For a moment she thinks he's about to do more.
His voice cracks a little, thick with emotion, "Look, whatever happens, we'll keep in touch, okay? I'll be home as soon as I can, then we can sort things out-"
All she can do is nod dumbly in response, any words she might have said are lost.
"-and tell dad I said hi."
Her mouth turns up at its corners, "I will," she says quietly.
The chopper pilot calls out, "We'd better go, Major!"
Reluctantly she disentangles herself from Hawkeye's grasp, jogging over to her ride.
It's over, it's all over.
None of it feels real.