Canada had nothing on this.
“Why is it taking so long?” Margaret was as frustrated as he was.
“Haven’t you heard? It’s the latest craze from St Petersburg.”
“I’ve been to St Petersburg and it was never this cold waiting in line.”
“Why don’t we just go and come back later?” Hawkeye’s patience was skidding on thin ice.
“Because there won’t be any later. Besides we’re nearly there now.”
And as their luck wouldn’t have it, Hawkeye stepped up to the bowl to put in their order
“Uh I’ll have one eggnog and…make that eggnog for the wife too.”
“Sorry sir…all out.”
Hawkeye’s expression changed from one of jovial relief to one of pure disbelief and soon anger.
“All out? What do you mean all out?”
“All out sir, there’s none left.”
“No” he sarcastically chuckled “You can’t tell me that. How can you be ‘all out’?”
“The supply truck was missing a barrel.”
“Missing a barrel?” Margaret joined in. “MISSING a barrel?”
“Sorry m’am, you should have gotten here earlier.”
“We’re officers!”
“And I’m just the server.”
“Oh ho ho you’re a damn sight lucky it’s so cold buster or I’d…”
“Margaret, he’s not worth it.” Hawkeye glared at Igor and dragged her away from the scene.
“It probably tasted awful anyway.” He muttered to her as they went to sit down with lukewarm coffee.
“Mmm not bad.”
“Best damn eggnog I’ve tasted in years.” Potter exclaimed joyfully.
“Quite good don’t you agree Hawk?” BJ asked, not knowing they were eggnog-less
Margaret groaned before hitting her head on the table.
“I wouldn’t know…they ran out.” Hawkeye griped, between mouthfuls of coffee.
“Drawn the short straw again have you?”
“What short straw? Bad luck follows us everywhere we go. Home, here, on the road, out in the field. We have the words ‘Bad luck welcome’ stamped on our foreheads.”
Margaret was in a particular depressed mood. 1am Christmas day, freezing like the Antarctic inside and out, the place covered in so much snow you feared the tents would fall in, nothing from old friends or family, and now no eggnog. She really wanted eggnog. It was a tradition that she planned to start this year. It seemed something normal and it was something she really wanted to do. Trust the army to spoil everything.
At least there wasn’t any wounded right?
“Now Margaret you can’t think like that.”
“Yeah, it’s Christmas…a time to celebrate.”
“That’s what the eggnog was for.” Margaret muttered.
“Hawk, you’re being unusually quiet for a time like this.” BJ observed.
“I happen to agree with her, but I don’t wanna get involved.”
“Margaret…its just eggnog.” Potter tried to reason with her.
“IT’S NOT THE FUCKING EGGNOG!” she screamed angrily at him.
The whole tent went quiet and looked towards their table. ‘Did Major Houlihan just swear?’ went through the mind of every enlisted man and nurse sitting in the mess tent. That and the fact she screamed, not yelled or raised her voice, at a superior officer.
She hit her head once again on the table. Unable to move or speak she thought it best not to look at anybody…in case her movement came back and she decked someone.
After the initial shock wore off, normal conversation resumed, the events of that evening would be talked about later in the O-Club. When the major wasn’t around.
“See why I didn’t get involved?” Hawkeye asked sarcastically. He was safe from the abuse because he knew what she was talking about and in Margaret’s eyes, he, like her, was what she was on about.
Neither BJ nor Potter answered. They envied, especially now, his ability to get away with practical murder and treachery in the book of Houlihan, and his ability to read said book.
Seeing that neither Margaret nor Potter and BJ were going to speak, Hawkeye decided to save the day, even though he quite agreed with Margaret and wasn’t particularly against what she could do to them. But before he could activate his escape plan, Margaret spoke up.
“Eggnog, holly, carols, trees, presents, mistletoe, snow, turkey, Santa and his fucking reindeer…you see a pattern? If not how’s another analogy. Boots, belts, guns, fire, khaki, helmets, medals, shells, hating, fighting, artillery, anger, loss, sadness, depression, war, death.” With each word she became louder and louder, with each word she edged herself over the table and with each word she became just that tiniest bit more insane.
“Margaret…” Maybe the thought of a Houlihan assault wasn’t such a great idea.
“Tradition. Colonel. You remember that surely?”
“Margaret…” Hawkeye was getting a tad bit more desperate to get her the hell out of there. Not to mention everyone else was too. “MARGARET!” he finally screamed. She snapped out of her psychotic trance and looked at him.
“What?” she asked calmly, no trace of psycho-Margaret to be seen.
“Let’s go…I think I know where to get more.” He said with a slight smirk, one that didn’t slip by Potter or BJ. They hadn’t the foggiest notion as to what he was planning to do, but he was getting her out of the tent. And that’s what mattered.
“Oh good,” she smiled.
And with that he guided her out. The whole tent breathed a sigh of relief. But not as much as Potter did.
“For a minute there I thought she was gonna rip my throat out.”
“Me too Colonel.”
“Did you see her eyes?”
“Eyes like an animal who had spotted easy prey?”
“Yeah. Have you ever seen her like that?”
“I’ve seen Margaret a lot of ways, never like that though. That, honest to God was truly terrifying.”
“Yeah. I’m getting worried about her,” Potter murmured.
“Getting? I’m way past getting, now planning to avoid.”
“Let’s hope Hawkeye can sort her out.”
“He was the only one not intimidated by her. If he can’t then well…”
“Yeah.”
“You alright?” Hawkeye asked as they walked through the 5-inch snow.
“I don’t know what came over me.” Hawkeye put his arm around her in a friendly gesture before explaining.
“You’re sick of this place and want to start anew, only because everyone stereotypes you as the uber-bitch of south Asia, you’re too afraid to show change but sincerely hate who you have to remain. That close?”
Margaret looked up at him and smiled slightly. “Part of it.” Her expression changed as she recalled what had happened “Oh God I actually said fuck to the Colonel.”
“Actually you screamed it.” He corrected her before whispering “And I thought I was the only person you could scream that too.”
Margaret smirked before asking him “You said you knew you could get some more?”
“Well I lied.” Before she could retaliate he continued “But there was some truth to it.”
“Oh?” she asked surprised.
“I know where I can get a substitute.”
Margaret checked that no body was around and slipped her arms around his neck. “Really?” she asked, hopeful, not yet catching onto what he actually meant. Or near to actually what he meant.
Hawkeye grinned “Really” before leaning in for a sweeping kiss.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
The facts as they happened:
October 17th
“So then he says to the guy…don’t you say that now cause-a I know people in power!”
Margaret roared with laughter. The two were sitting, or rather slouching in the officers club. It was late, or rather very early. They were both a little tipsy, or rather off their face. Drunker than 40 men who had just been dumped at a bar. Hawkeye had just told one of the worst jokes in the history of mankind…and as every normal drunk does, they both cracked up. No reason to be drunk other than they can. It was heading on 2am and the place needed to be cleared and cleaned. Not a hard task, as they were the only two in the place and both drunk to the world.
“Another round Igor!”
“Sorry sir – closing time.”
“Oh well fine…we’ll take our business somewhere else!”
The pair slowly and shakily stood up and headed out, but not before…
“Hey Igor…how much for a bottle?”
“15 bucks sir”
“15 bucks?! Boy this war sure is stingy. There’s your measly 15 bucks.” He threw down the money and picked up the scotch. He looped arms with Margaret, who was too drunk to care and the pair stumbled out laughing.
Along the way the two continued to stumble, heading for Margaret’s tent, both laughing hysterically, Hawkeye swinging the bottle around, miraculously not dropping it.
Upon arrival Margaret drawled huskily, “You wanna come in?” mostly from the drinking.
“MmmmHmmm” was all Hawkeye could utter as he walked in. Margaret fumbling to lock the door.
Margaret took the bottle from him and sat it down on her desk. On her way back over to him, she tripped over, Hawkeye managing to catch her before she fell.
“Whoa-ho…that was close” she giggled, before starting to laugh again.
“You okay?” Hawkeye asked, responsible doctor side coming through.
“Of course so. You?”
“Well I wasn’t the one who tripped.”
“Yeah but how did it feel being the one who caught the tripped?”
Hawkeye seriously – for a drunken person – thought out carefully the answer before replying. “Fantastic.”
“How ‘bout some scotch?”
“I thought you’d never ask!”
“Ya know…Hawk…I had a really good time tonight. A REALLY good time. Did you have a REALLY good time too?”
“I did indeed.”
Margaret paused for a moment; the alcohol was just beginning to wear off. “How would you like an even better time?” she asked him, looking up from the glasses on her desk.
Hawkeye looked back at her “As long as it’s not cards…cause I can’t see 2 feet in front of me at the mo…”
Margaret rushed forward and cut him off at the lips, leaning in for a sloppy kiss. Hawkeye reciprocated by opening his mouth, allowing her tongue to enter.
She draped her arms around his neck and shoulders, pressing hard atop of him. Hawkeye followed her lead by tightly securing his arms around her waist.
Soon the kiss heated up, tongues duelling against the other battling for dominance, hands grasping at whatever was closest, breathing becoming heavier and heavier. Hawkeye pulled her against him hard. She moaned into his mouth as she felt his arousal against hers.
He backed up towards the bed, all the time holding her to him, lips together, breathing rapidly increasing. She violently pushed him down onto the bed, falling on top of him, heavily. Neither knew what they were doing, the last time this happened, fear got in the way of perfection…this time, 16 beers and a bottle of scotch.
Hawkeye looked scared…he’d never seen her like this. So wild, so wanting, so…horny. He liked it.
Margaret broke away from his embrace, grabbing at his shirt, yanking it up his body and ripping it from his chest before lunging at him again. Hawkeye began to realise the seriousness of what was going on and rolled them over, nearly tipping them off the bed.
“Damn the army” he cursed.
“Fuck the army!” Margaret hissed.
“What do you think I’m tryin’ to do?” he muttered.
Margaret laughed at him. “How am I ‘sposed to get you naked if you’re laughing at me?”
“That’s your problem.”
Hawkeye ripped open her shirt and discarded it on the floor.
“That’ll do.” She giggled.
“Shhh…you’re ruining the moment.” He hushed her.
“Well…then...hurry…up…and…get…on…with…it!” she demanded between kisses.
Hawkeye was trying his best to ‘get on with it’ but was having some trouble. He was half naked already whilst she still had her bra on, one with a very complicated clasp so he thought. To tell the truth, aside from not seeing 2 feet in front of him, his sense of touch was delayed by about 1.8 seconds making things slower and more difficult to achieve. But damn it to hell he wasn’t going to let a single piece of undergarment stop him from doing what every drunken man with an equally drunken, blonde woman has an obligation to do – get laid. He continued to try and undo what seemed to be the world’s trickiest operation. Even when sober it’s a hard task for the average American male to achieve without help…or looking foolish.
“How the hell can you…uh…little help?” but of course he wasn’t sober and they would both feel foolish much later on…not that they had realised it so far.
Half a second later and Margaret had achieved what Hawkeye had tried to do for the past 2 minutes. Blondes: 1 Thoracic Surgeons: 0.
“Now why couldn’t I do that?”
“Because you’re good with bodies…not clothes.”
“Good point.”
“You talk too much.” Margaret complained before pulling his head down and meeting his lips with hers once more.
She began to fumble with his belt…not looking at what she was doing, she had to rely on touch only…to complicate the already drunkenness of the pair, her senses were being disrupted every time she brushed up against him. Clearly not all senses were interrupted by the alcohol.
“Damn it” she whispered.
“Mmm” Hawkeye had a mouthful of breast and naturally was unable to speak.
“You’re not making this easy.”
“Nothing’s ever easy.” He began to move down her abdomen, to her stomach, reaching the top of her pants. He swiftly undid the button and pulled down her fly, brushing his hand against her the entire time. Margaret arched her back like she’d just had an electric shock run through her.
“Stop moving or I’ll never get it off” he whined.
“Well…stop…touching…me…and…I’ll…stop…moo…oh GOD!” Margaret screamed.
Hawkeye sat up and looked at her, before drawling, “Do I even need to be here…I haven’t even started yet.”
“Just…keep…going.” She rasped.
Satisfied with the answer he continued on her pants whilst she, unsuccessfully, tried again to get his belt undone. Tired of trying, she began to try to pull them off anyway, as equally unsuccessfully.
“Need a hand?” he asked as he undid the belt without even looking.
“You can undo a belt…but not a brassiere?”
“Shhh…you talk too much,” he mocked her and pulled her up to lock lips.
Blondes: 1 Thoracic Surgeons: 1.
Margaret ripped down his pants, thankful that difficult task was over. Both now lying together in their underwear, they continued to kiss, blissfully unaware of what they were doing, what they intended to do and in fact…who they were doing.
“Can…we…just do…this?” she moaned at him.
“UhmmMmm…foreplay first.” What can one say? He was drunk and tried to remember to remain proper in one of life’s most important aspects.
“Screw the foreplay.” Margaret was one, hyper bunny. Drinking always automatically turned her into a maniacal sex-addict.
Hawkeye would have to remember that for future purposes.
The pair stripped each other of the others remaining clothing, all the while never leaving the other’s lips. He hovered over her for a moment, shaking, before falling onto her. He quickly made up for his obvious fuck-up of the situation, by ramming into her, hard, causing Margaret to scream…rather loudly.
“HOLY FUCKING HELL!”
Hawkeye chuckled, not moving. “Oh so I do need to be here now?”
“You better move soon or I’ll…OHHHHH!”
Hawkeye began thrusting in and out, slowly. Never really taking it all in. The fact that he – at that very moment – was fucking Margaret, had not quite yet registered. He knew *what* was happening…but not the bigger picture nor importance of what was actually taking place.
Margaret moaned and he was brought back to reality.
Due to her plea, he sped up, panting all the meanwhile. Margaret began clawing at his back, nails digging in hard. Her whole body had arched and was aching, eyes were closed as she panted, moaning and crying out.
“More…harder, OH HARDER!” she wanted it bad.
Hawkeye obliged, speeding up, going at it like a bull at a red gate. The alcohol was also starting to wear off on him too.
Margaret began to feel herself let go and as her orgasm came over her she screamed out both in pleasure and pain: “OH MY GODDDDDD!” Hawkeye kept the pace up, and he followed seconds later. Spilling his load into her.
He collapsed on top of her in exhaustion.
“Never took you for a screamer.” He breathed out, still calming down.
“Really? She asked, still out of it.
“No…I always suspected you were.”
She giggled in reply. “Never took you as the giving and receiving type.”
“Why…do you think I had your staff chasing after me then?”
“Desperate?”
Hawkeye chuckled before rolling them over.
“Hey…hey Margaret?” he asked.
“Mmm?” she yawned, drifting off to sleep.
“Goo-d night.” He whispered, following after her.
The next morning began with a headache. Margaret woke with the all-time mother of a hangover.
“Ughhh” she groaned after lifting her head. She lowered it back to rest on Hawkeye’s chest. Or rather what she thought was her bed.
She turned to look at her clock: 8:17. Way too early for a hangover-patient. Closing her eyes she drifted back to sleep, unaware of what or rather who on.
An hour later there was a knock on her door.
“Major…Major are you in there?” it was Kellye wondering why she had not turned up for Post Op. Margaret stirred but remained silent. Kellye then, bravely, tried the door. Upon finding it lock, she walked away, suspecting the Major to be in supply.
“Are they gone?” Hawkeye whispered, more so for his hangover than to actually be quiet.
“MmmmHmmm” Margaret moaned, not realising she was answering anyone. Both falling back to sleep.
Another few hours later, Margaret again awoke. Her hangover was still swimming around and she was not looking forward to the day. After a few moments she began to realise she wasn’t alone.
Slowly she crept her hand up the stranger’s side, past his chest and to his face. Feeling his chin, his ears, his lips, his nose and finally his hair, she sat up quickly.
“OH…FUCK!” She began panicking as the events of the early morning came back to her.
She looked down to be sure of what she suspected.
“FUCK!”
Of all the possible fantasies…waking up on top of Hawkeye Pierce was the one she least expected to be fulfilled.
She regretted sitting up so fast as the blood began to rush to her head. Slowly she lay back down on Hawkeye’s chest again.
“Oh fuck,” she repeated, not as frantic as before.
“Mmm…ohhh my head.” Hawkeye began to wake up, also reeling and regretting last night’s booze-fest. After a few minutes he began to look around, realising that he was not in the Swamp and that he was not alone. Feeling there was a pressure on his chest, stomach and…legs, he looked down, already knowing who it was he was not alone with.
“Uhhh…hi?” he asked.
“Oh…Hawkeye…you’re up.” She commented, hoping he wouldn’t make a joke out of it.
“I’m awake…if I was up you wouldn’t be…ya know…where you are.” He pointed out.
“Oh…right.” She stammered.
“So uh…this is awkward.” He pointed out.
“I’m so sorry Hawkeye I never expected this to happen. We were, and then you were, and then I was, and then WE WERE…”
“Margaret…Margaret slow down. My head can barely cope with ‘hi’”
Neither of them had moved past being able to not look each other in the eye.
“So this is…awkward.”
“You said that already.”
“Just thought I should say it again…in case anyone forgot.”
“There’s only us in here…and believe me I don’t think I’ll EVER forget this.”
“Shhh…don’t yell. Don’t speak. Don’t even move.” He told her, his head now screaming.
Margaret was becoming very uncomfortable being where she was. Not only had she obviously had sex with Hawkeye, her head was pounding, her right arm was numb and she was lying on top of him, naked, as equally as he was.
Hawkeye wasn’t exactly feeling at ease either. Not only had he obviously had sex with Margaret, his hangover hated him, his stomach was grumbling and he had a gorgeous blonde on top of him, naked, and his…’partner’ had also noticed.
“Hawkeye…” Margaret began to become aware of it too.
“Sorry” he blushed. “Can’t help being male now can I?” he defended himself before an all-out war started.
“Forget it…we’re both at fault here.”
“Mmm.” He lay back, wrapping his arms around her.
“Hawkeye…” she repeated.
“Oh…sorry…old habit.” He began to move his hands.
“Leave them there.” She sighed. He obliged, not questioning her.
Margaret’s mind and hands began wandering, as she started toying with his hair and snuggling up to him.
“You right there?” he asked her.
“What? Oh…” she stopped “Sorry…I was just…”
“Getting caught up in the moment?”
“Yeah…that’s it.” She resumed playing.
Hawkeye began to slowly stroke her back, circling with his fingers, barely touching her skin. Margaret shivered in response. His strokes became longer, firmer and more sensual in their touch.
“Mmmmm” Margaret moaned.
“I can see you don’t like this.”
“Oh I hate it. Don’t stop.”
Margaret started to kiss his chest, softly and sweetly. She began to move up, pausing at his neck. Hawkeye groaned in reaction.
“You want me to stop?” she asked between breaths.
“No” he moaned. “But I don’t think I have the energy to start anything beyond this.”
“Mmm…neither do I.”
Margaret continued up his face, mouthing his jaw line til she hit jackpot, finding his mouth she moved in for the kiss. He obliged, opening his mouth, allowing tongues to touch and duel and taste.
“Mmmmm” Margaret moaned into his mouth before breaking it off.
“What’s wrong?”
“This…everything…us!” she started.
“Oh yeah…you don’t like…this?”
“No, I don’t mean this this…I mean…us this. We need to talk.”
“Shhh” He reminded her of his headache, ”Now?”
“Yes…before I have to get to Post Op which is…” Margaret looked at her clock” “THREE HOURS AGO! FUCK!” she hit the bed in frustration.
Margaret quickly began to get up, but was held down by Hawkeye.
“WHAT ARE YOU DOING?” she demanded to know.
“Margaret…there’s less than an hour til the end of the shift. There’s no point in going now. We’ve got a while til the next one, plus if your head’s anything like mine you don’t wanna be breathing let alone changing sheets or writing. Just say…you were hung-over or got the rosters mixed up…or the nurses got them mixed up…use them…you’re good at that.”
Margaret remained silent, kicking herself for missing – for the first time since her appendectomy – a shift.
“And stop blaming yourself.” He demanded from her.
Margaret began to sit up, quickly realising her state of undress and looking for an escape plan…or a sheet.
“Could you…pass me the pillow…please?” she asked.
“What’s the point at this stage?”
She gave up and sat up anyway, ignoring what he could or could not see. Hawkeye also began to sit up against the front wall before changing his mind on his last decision.
“On second thought my…ego…could use the cover up.” He gave her access to more of the sheet.
“Thanks.” They both said at once.
“So uhhh…where do we sta…” Hawkeye began
“Do you regret what happened?” Margaret asked him.
“What do you mean…do I regret that we got drunk or the fact that we slept together?”
“What do you think I mean?” she snapped at him. “Sorry…yes the fact that we slept together.”
“Do I regret it?” she nodded. “No.”
“No?”
“No…exactly that.”
“Why not?”
“Why not? Because…I don’t regret it.”
“What about last time?”
“I only regretted it last time because you were…ya know?”
“So you don’t regret it?”
“No for the one hundredth time. Why…do you?”
“Oh God no…I mean no.” Hawkeye smirked…there was more to this than what she was letting on.
“Then…I don’t see any problem here.”
Margaret dropped her head to her knees in despair.
“You don’t see any problem here?” she asked him.
“None whatsoever.”
“HOW CAN YOU NOT SEE ANY PROBLEM HERE?!” she yelled.
“Margaret please…my head.”
“WE SLEPT TOGETHER!”
“So?” Hawkeye asked.
“So we have a major problem here.”
“How so?”
“Well what happens now? How can we EVER get over this? What about…”
Hawkeye cut her off. “Margaret as I see it we have 2 options. We either stop doing this, or we keep doing this.”
“How can you see it that simply?”
“I never said it was simple. It’s just a first step.”
Margaret sat back and thought about everything that had taken place over the previous 12 hours.
9 o’clock the previous night, Margaret had joined Hawkeye, BJ, Potter and Charles for a few drinks in the officers club.
Around 10 Charles left for Post Op, which was also the time the pair became rather tipsy, and began to dance.
At 11 Potter headed to his office to finish paperwork, the time in which the 3 tried to break the camp record of how many vodka shots in a minute one could scull.
By 11:30 the pair were quite out of it, BJ watching his drinking due to a binge from earlier in the week, gone wrong.
He headed to bed around 11:45.
Bad jokes began around 12:15 with Hawkeye winning in the worst – or best depending on how drunk one was – joke told.
2am Igor kicked them out.
They headed to her tent for a nightcap.
Things became heated and they never got round to the scotch.
Margaret pulled herself from her thoughts and looked over to her table. The bottle still sitting there, full and open.
“I want to keep doing this.” She said out of the blue, dazed, not quite sure what was coming out of her mouth.
“What?” Hawkeye asked, not sure if he heard right.
“This…us…here.” She replied, looking straight at him. “Unless you didn’t want to…what do you want?”
“Well uhhh…I don’t know what to say. I never expected you to actually…say yes.”
“Is that such a bad thing? If we…continue…us?” she was cautious in how it came out…she didn’t want to sound desperate.
“NO…no…I mean. I was hoping you’d want to because…I mean…”
“…Wow!”
“…Exactly.”
“Is that all that this would be?” she asked him.
“I dunno…is that all you would want it to be?”
The pair were pussy-footing around like a couple of 13 year olds who had just kissed for the first time. One had been hurt too many times and the other had been around too many times. Caution was necessary.
“This is stupid.” Margaret spoke up.
“What is?”
“Us! We’re both adults here.”
“Right.” He agreed with her.
“Why can’t we just say what we want?”
“Because we’d be locked up if it was said in public.” He joked.
Margaret breathed a sigh of relief and laughed. She hadn’t completely screwed him over…well…in a manner of speaking. She laid her head on her knees and cocked it to one side to face him.
“What do you feel for me?”
“Now? At this present time?”
“Come on I’m serious.”
“If I knew myself I’d tell you. It’s complicated…”
“How so?” Time for a little role reversal.
“Lots of different things.”
“Love?”
“Yes…but at the same time anger.”
Margaret was confused…contradiction was something she just did not handle well.
“A part of me loves you…but another hates the fact that if not for this war…”
“We never would have met.”
“And I feel I have to be actually THANKING this hell hole for finding you…and I HATE this place.” Hawkeye leaned back against the tent wall.
“Hawkeye…can I tell you how I see it?”
“Of course.”
Margaret took a deep breath. “Think of it this way. Before you were sent here you were beginning to build up your own life. This place has stopped…interrupted that from happening.” Margaret edged closer to him. “You’re angry at that and you hate it here.” She leaned against him, careful not to cave-in the thin walls. “This place owes you BIG time. What could be a greater repayment than…”
“Finding you.” He pulled her closer to him.
“That’s what I’m saying.”
Hawkeye paused for a moment. “Can you live with being a repayment?” he then asked her.
“Oh I think I’ll manage…besides…you’re not the only one who wants compensation for this place.” She grinned.
“Well in that case…I think we can…come to an agreement.” He smiled at her, pulling her to lie down with him.
Margaret leaned in and whispered, “I hope that’s not the only thing we can come to.”
Hawkeye’s eyes went wide. “Why Margaret Houlihan…I never took you for a dirty talker.”
“How do you think I got the name Hotlips?”
Hawkeye flipped them over, causing her to squeal.
“A squealer too eh? What else is there about you I don’t know?”
“You’ll just have to find out for yourself.” She grinned evilly.
“That sounds like it could be fun.” He leaned down and kissed her, grabbing her hands and putting them above her head.
“I see your hangover’s gone.”
“Yours too.”
A knock on the door interrupted them from their…activities.
“Margaret, are you feeling alright?” it was Potter, also wanting to know why she wasn’t in Post Op.
“Maybe if we’re quiet he’ll go away.” Hawkeye whispered to her.
Margaret put a finger to his lips “Oh, Colonel Poooottttter.” A finger he decided tasted good. “Sir well…I’m not feeling too well. Quite terrible actually. I was going to see you but…”
“No need to explain Major. Get some rest, I’ll come check in on you later on.” Potter knew if Margaret didn’t turn up for something…she was really sick.
“Thaaaank you sir.” Hawkeye’s tongue was driving her wild. “Will you stop…doing that?” she whispered, trying not to giggle.
“Oh by the way…you haven’t by any chance seen or heard Pierce anywhere?”
Margaret put her hand over his mouth “Uhhh…no siiiiir.” He wasn’t helping. “The last time I saw him was the officer’s club last night. He’s probably around…somewhere.”
“Right, thank you Major.” The pair remained silent, listening to him walk away.
“You bastard!”
“What?” he asked innocently.
“You know how difficult it is talking to someone when someone else is trying to…”
“Fuck you?”
“Yes as you so elegantly put it.”
“A little foreplay never hurt anyone…especially not me.”
“I just…”
Hawkeye sat up “What is it?”
“I don’t want anyone else to know about this. If word gets out that we’re…”
“Fucking like there’s no tomorrow?”
“You really like saying that don’t you?”
“Eh? It’s a great word.”
“Then people will start talking, things will change, and not for the best.”
“Margaret I…”
“Do you see where I’m coming from?”
“Can I…”
“Can’t you see why I don’t want this to get out?”
“MARGARET!” he yelled before continuing, “If you’d let me speak, I was going to say I agree with you.”
“You do?”
“Yes. I can see what would happen. BJ wanting to know every detail, nurses using our relationship to get to you, and just general crap from everyone.”
Margaret leaped up and grabbed him in a bear hug, slightly winding him. “Thank you Hawk.”
“S’no problem Margaret.” He said, trying to get his breath back.
“Come on…we’d better show our faces before someone thinks we’ve eloped.” Margaret pointed out before getting up.
“Maybe you’re right” he said, following after her. “It’s gonna be difficult.”
“What is?” she asked, searching for clean clothes.
Hawkeye crept up behind her “Keeping my hands off you,” he said, wrapping his arms around her waist.
Margaret smiled, turning in his arms “Same goes for me Captain.” As she draped her arms around his neck, leaning in to kiss.
“Ew! I can’t kiss you” Margaret looked confused “You’re sick remember.” He grinned.
Margaret playfully slapped him. “Well if you catch it…we’ll have to be quarantined…together.”
“I’m starting to feel a little under the weather now that you mention it.” He kissed her.
“How about now?” she asked him.
“Terrible” he kissed her again.
Margaret broke off a few seconds later and the pair continued to get dressed, smiling all the while.
“Now if anyone asks, you were in checking up on me…”
“And if Potter asks, say it was a touch of the flu and you’re feeling a whole lot better.”
“And as my doctor you can verify I’m better.”
“It goes without saying.” He looked at her before allowing her to exit the tent before him.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Margaret pulled away from him.
“So? Where is it?”
“Just inside here” Hawkeye was looking forward to this. But not as much as Margaret would, once she found out what the substitute was.
“My tent?” she asked him.
“Your tent” he replied as he led her in by the small of her back.
Margaret removed her scarf. “So…where is…” before she could finish, Hawkeye had grabbed her from behind and was currently attacking her neck. “Hawkeye…this wouldn’t happen to be a joke to get me in here?”
“Mpnfo” he mumbled between mouthfuls, before turning her to face him by her waist. “I did say there was a substitute.”
“Well…what is it? Mistletoe?”
“Do you trust me?” he asked her seriously.
“Of course.”
“Then just lie down…”
“But…”
“…and don’t ask any questions.”
Margaret sat down and lay back on the bed, not uttering a word.
“Now when I said substitute, I didn’t quite explain what I meant.” He started, as he slowly began to lay down on top of her on the bed.
“You didn’t explain anything.”
“Shhh.” He hushed her as he began to unlace her boots.
“Hawkeye…I’m really not in the mood for…”
“No sex…I promise.”
“I know you said no questions…but I’d really like to know what you meant by what you said before.”
“Okay, answer me this…what did you think I meant by substitute?”
“Maybe you had something sent to you, or you bought something to drink. That or you were helping us to start Christmas traditions another way.”
Hawkeye began to grin as he pulled off her shoes.
“You’re not going to tell me are you?”
“Let me put it this way…if I tell you, the surprise has gone.”
“Not even a hint?” she asked him, really wanting to know.
“Okay, one hint. The hint is…that really it’s a substitute for eggnog, for me.” He told her as he discarded of her socks.
Margaret looked at him oddly.
“But believe me, you won’t miss out.”
“If you say so.” She was going along with it.
He began on her belt, unlocking it from its clasp and pulling it from her pants.
“So uhhh…how exactly am I going to enjoy it?”
“That my darling is a secret. But I will say this…it’s something you shall never forget.” He whispered to her as he popped the button on her pants and began to slide down the zip.
Margaret tried not to squirm in anticipation. She told him no sex, he promised her just that, and yet he was doing everything that took place before it happened. But he kept to his promises, and she trusted him.
Hawkeye began to slide her pants down her silk, smooth legs, as gently as one could. Discarding over them on her floor, he turned to face her. “I need to ask you something before I continue.” She nodded in response. “I can do this half clothed…but you’ll get more out of it fully naked. Is it too cold or can I continue?”
“No…it’s not cold…it’s actually…getting quite warm in here.” Her breathing was beginning to get heavier.
“I suspected it was.” He smirked, before leaving her lower half and moving upwards.
He unbuttoned her coat slowly and discarded of it, before removing her jacket and sweater.
There she lay, in her underwear. Hawkeye half sat up and looked at her, smiling.
“What is it?” she questioned him, breathing slightly more rapid than before.
“I’m allowed to look aren’t I?”
“And touch too if you had forgotten already.” She said to him with confused expression. He had yet to kiss her properly since they had walked into her tent, something he did as often as he could.
He moved to her shoulders and then to her back, unclasping her black-lace bra. One he had ordered from Tokyo for her. Since their first…second encounter, he had become a pro at unclasping them…much to Margaret’s delight. He slid the straps down her arms and discarded of it to the pile of clothes on the floor.
At this point, Margaret was becoming rather heated. Hawkeye was still fully clothed and she had all but one piece of her clothing gone.
His expression changed suddenly. Hawkeye grabbed her by the waist and pulled her up higher on the bed.
“Don’t look so shit-scared Margaret. You really thought I was going to turn all Cassanova on you?”
“I was kinda hoping you hadn’t. I’m more relieved that you’re back to your old self.”
“Hornier than a rabbit in spring?”
“That one, yes.”
“From now on, no talking.” He demanded her. She nodded her head in agreement.
He moved up to lie directly above her. “Just allow me to be Cassanova for another minute or two okay?” she nodded.
Hawkeye moved his face to her neck and began to suck lightly. Margaret felt thrills down her spine as if he were sucking on a straw, and she was the milkshake. He began to move, kissing her jaw softly and nibbling at her ear, which caused her to squeak. He stopped.
“That wasn’t talking.” She told him.
He continued, moving down her face and focusing on the other side of her neck. Margaret’s hands began to pull at the sheets as he moved lower. Pausing at a particularly sensitive spot just above her breasts, he sucked lightly. Margaret let a moan escape her lips.
Hawkeye continued to travel lower, taking a breast in his mouth he began to suckle it, his hands still snaked around her waist. Margaret squealed in delight and bit her lip to stop the sound escaping.
He moved to the other breast, repeating the same action. Margaret gripped the sheets a little more, slightly arching her back. After a minute or so, he began to move lower, licking and sucking at her stomach. By this time he had moved his hands, and began stroking her thighs, lightly running a hand up and down one leg, then the other hand up and down her other.
Margaret by now had a few ideas as to what he was going to do. If he did any one of them she’d be a very happy Major. She was squirming where he held her, mouth dancing along her hip, hands tracing the curves of her legs…if he didn’t tell her what he was going to do…she was going to explode.
He began to move his lips lower, down her hip, her thigh, her leg, kissing and suckling along the way. He changed sides and began to kiss up her other leg, thigh and to her hip.
Margaret was in pure heaven. Her breathing was in ragged gasps and her back arched off the bed. To her nothing could be more pleasurable than this. Hawkeye was about to show her what was past heaven.
Hawkeye leant his head down and kissed her through her underwear. Margaret’s eyes rolled back into her head as she arched even higher. He stopped what he was doing and move up, face to face with her.
“You wanna know something Margaret?” he asked her.
“Wha-at?” she hissed.
“You taste good. But I want more. Can I have more?” he was playing with her, but for good reason.
Her eyes went wide, but she couldn’t speak.
“Can I, Margaret?”
“Ye-es” she whispered, eager for him to continue.
Hawkeye grinned and moved back down her body, his hands sliding along her as he went.
He hooked his thumbs around the small piece of clothing, observing that she was wet.
“You better not be empty of substitute Margaret.” He toyed with her, not moving.
She shook her head, unable to put two syllables together.
Hawkeye began to stroke her, just above her panty-line.
“You know, once I’ve done this…there’s no turning back?”
‘What the fuck is he on about?’ Margaret thought. He was starting to get on her nerves. She only assumed what he was going to do. But for all his insanity, he could take her to the very edge of sexual satisfaction and not let her fall.
She nodded her head in understanding. He continued, finally pulling off the final barrier between his lips, and her desire.
Hawkeye lowered his head and breathed in the scent of her sex. She glistened in the moonlight that shone through the tent. She was ready and he was going to take her. He dived in, immediately taking her clit between his teeth. Margaret screamed as he began to lick her, smell her, taste her.
He stopped at looked up at her. “Shhh…if everyone finds out they’ll all want some!” He grinned and went back to the job at hand, licking and teasing her clit, holding her down by the waist.
Margaret was panting. Her knuckles were white, hands scrunching the sheets. She instinctively moved her hand down to add to the friction his tongue was making.
“Uh uh!” he pushed her hand away. “My turn.” His tongue left her clit and he pushed and licked, deep inside her.
Margaret thrust her hips into his face as she arched off the bed. She was loving his new tongue-on action…something no man had ever done for her before. She groaned at his ministrations; he was now licking his way between her opening and her clit, nipping every so often…Hawkeye was going down on her like nothing known to man kind.
“OHHH FUCK!” she screamed as he bit down hard. A fire pooling in her belly…she was coming…hard and fast.
Hawkeye didn’t stop. He licked and sucked and bit harder and more frequent. Eating her out, lapping up her juices.
Margaret’s hands went to his head as she him held there. Panting with shallow breaths, she began to tremble, shaking as her orgasm started and took over her, arching her back, high into the air. Everything turned a shade of blue as she came and came and came, and Hawkeye drank every drop that passed his lips.
Margaret fell back with a thud. Her chest heaving in and out with every breath she caught. Hawkeye dropped his head between her thighs, on the now damp blanket. He was tired out and his face muscles hurt. But it was worth it all to see her happy.
Margaret tried to calm down her breathing; her face was bright red and her eyes glazed over. Hawkeye looked up at her and smiled; she had that ‘I just got my brains fucked out’ expression on her face. After a minute or so Hawkeye moved up and lay beside her.
“Fuck!”
“You just did.” He smirked at her and she pulled his head down to kiss him, tasting herself on his lips. “I take it you liked it?”
“Oh fuck yes!” her breathing still heavy.
“I thought you might.”
“So much fucking better than eggnog!” she breathed out.
After another few moments she turned to face him, cupping his cheek in her hand. A look of confusion on her expression.
“What did you mean by substitute?” she asked him, tucking her head in the hollow of his neck.
“Eggnog and cum are both white” he grinned evilly.
Margaret blushed red. “Fuck!”
“You said that already.”
“I know but…oh my god…I can still feel it.”
“A little trick I picked up in college.”
Margaret smiled and gripped him tighter.
“Thank you.”
“Anytime.” He said, nuzzling her face.
She grinned at him “Do you think we can keep this tradition?” she asked him.
“I was planning to.” He kissed her. Margaret involuntarily yawned into his mouth.
“I’m sorry…you just drained me…”
“And you taste good.”
Margaret blushed again. “Of energy too.”
Hawkeye stroked her face and hair. “Maybe now you can sleep.” He told her, pulling the blanket over them. “A little wet down that end.” He muttered. Margaret giggled.
“Not entirely my fault.” She yawned.
Hawkeye smiled and kissed her forehead “Shhh…go to sleep.”
“Mmmm” she moaned, drifting off.
“Merry Christmas Margaret” he whispered.
“Merry Christmas Hawkeye…” she trailed off as they both fell asleep.
The next day at lunchtime it was still snowing. The gang was in the mess tent for a Christmas day lunch.
“Is everything alright now Margaret?” Potter asked her, a little wary.
“Yes sir. I’m sorry about last night…I was just a little…frustrated” she looked at Hawkeye who smiled at her “But I’m alright now.” She reassured him.
“Did you find more eggnog?” BJ asked.
“No…but I found a substitute.”
Hawkeye bit down on his tongue to stop himself from laughing.
“Must have been a good batch then.” Potter drawled.
Hawkeye started coughing, losing the fight not to laugh.
“Son are you okay?”
“I’m fine Colonel…must have caught something in my throat from last night.”
Margaret blushed and his behind her coffee cup. “Yes sir…it was the best batch I’ve ever had.”
“I’ll say” Hawkeye muttered. The two looked at each other with shit-eating grins plastered on their faces.
“Is it a tradition now?” BJ asked, the pair now biting their tongues.
“Oh I’d say so” Hawkeye smirked at her.
The two looked at each other again and laughed.
“Glad to see you’re back to your old self again Margaret.” Potter stated.
“Oh I wouldn’t say that sir. Things seem better than before.” She smiled at Hawkeye.
And all because of a little substitute.
