I'm not entirely sure I'm happy with this, but I can't think of anything else to do to it. So enjoy it or not, here it is. Please review no matter what you think of it.

disclaimer: Nope, they ain't mine. Thank Richard Hooker for writing the book, Hollywood for making the movie and TV series, and the country song Austin for providing the plot inspiration for this story.

I told myself this was crazy. It'd been over a year and a half since he and I had said goodbye in Korea. There was no way that womanizer hadn't moved on. Hell, he had probably dated all the girls in his hometown and half the female population of the surrounding countryside twice by now.

Still, I couldn't make myself put the phone back on its cradle. I hadn't stopped thinking about that man once since I'd made it back home. About a month ago, I had finally mustered up enough nerve to track down BJ. The stateside post I'd been reassigned to before I resigned was near San Francisco, so I figured he was the closest and therefore the easiest to find.

It took a while, but eventually I sat listening nervously to the Hunnicuts' phone ring.

"Hello?" It was him.

"Hello. BJ?"

"Margaret? Is that you? How are you? It's great to hear from you," he exclaimed excitedly.

I chuckled a little at his child-like enthusiasm before I answered, "I'm fine. It's great to talk to you too."

"God, it's been over a year now, hasn't it?"

"Yeah. How does it feel to be home?"

"Great. I love being back with Peg and Erin. It's strange though; I miss you guys. I still wake up some mornings convinced that I'll roll over and see Hawk on the cot across from me."

"Strange as it sounds, I know exactly what you mean. I never thought I'd actually miss you bozos. Speaking of Hawkeye, though, have you talked to him lately?"

"Yeah, the Swamp rats have kept in touch fairly well. We talk about once a week. He's about the only one I've heard from until today," BJ said.

"I wanted to ask you a favor…" I began, but the words stuck in my throat.

"You want to talk to Hawk, and you thought I'd have his number, right?" BJ asked with an amused smile in his voice.

"Well… yeah."

"You got it, but only if you tell me what you've been up to."

We talked for a little over an hour about my reassignment and resignation and his new practice and his family. Then we made plans to get together some time since we live so close. I told him I'd be honored to meet the women that he'd talked so much about while we were in Korea, and he insisted that he didn't want to loose contact again. Then, once he'd given me the promised number, we said our goodbyes.

I'd reconnected with one of my closest friends, and now a month later I sat frozen with the number he'd given me in my hand. BJ was one thing, I knew what to expect from him, and I didn't have as much to loose if he wanted nothing to do with me. With Hawk…

I took a deep breath and dialed the Maine number.

One.

Two.

Three rings.

"Hello, you've reached the Pierces. If you want the doctors, call the office. If it's an emergency, leave a message then call the office. If you're calling about your window, Mrs. Glenn, I'm sorry. I swear the kids and I didn't know we could hit the ball that far. If you're calling about your bill, Zane, yes it's correct. If this is Sunday, Dad and I are terrorizing the fish and we'll be back tomorrow. If this is anybody or anytime else, wait for the tone, you know what to do. P.S.- if this is Margaret, I love you."

I dropped the phone to the floor.

Surely I hadn't heard right. We hadn't talked to each other since Korea, and we never mentioned anything other than friendship over there. However, maybe that last kiss had said a little more than that…

But, no man would hang on to a hope that frail for a year and a half, would he? No man but Hawkeye. Hawkeye was just that stubborn and just that crazy. Just like me.­­­­­­­­­­­

It took me nearly a month more to work up the nerve to call him again.

Three rings, and then Hawk's voice.

"This is the home of the Pierces, Daniel and infamous son, Hawkeye, residing. If it's Monday, Wednesday, or Friday, Dad's playing cards. If it's before six, he's still at the clinic. If you're calling for me, I'm catching up on my much needed beauty sleep at a medical conference in Boston. I'll be back in time for the football game on Saturday. I'll return all calls right after my team finishes pulverizing Dale's. If you've got something to sell, we're not interested. That means you, Carey; we've already eaten too many of your Girl Scout cookies. If you're calling about the pudding thing, Dale, you know it was better than that coffee you usually drink. At least I didn't take your son's advice; he wanted to use mud. Sorry Seth, but you know how your dad hates worms. P.S.- If this is Margaret, I love you."

This time, I left my number but nothing else.

The three day wait was pure agony. I was unnaturally jumpy and unfocused all through my shifts on Thursday and Friday. And Saturday I plastered myself to the chair next to the phone.

By three I was so jittery I felt I could've given an epileptic seizure a run for its money. By three-thirty I think I was having a seizure. The phone rang at five-fifteen.

I picked up halfway through the first ring.

"Hello?"

"Hello?" Three-thousand miles away, I nearly fainted at the sound of his non-recorded voice.

"Hi, Hawk."

There was a brief beat of silence then, "Margaret?"

"The one and only." My voice was steady even if my tone wasn't as lively as I would've liked.

Again a brief silence before he spoke. "I can't believe it's really you! How have you been? I haven't heard from you in ages."

"I'm fine. How are you and your dad?"

"Fine. Dad's just as ornery as ever, and I'm sure he'd say the same about yours truly. Though, you understand, I have been a most perfect angel for months now."

As Hawkeye said that, I was sure I heard loud laughter and commentary in the background on his end. My beliefs were confirmed when Hawkeye continued, "Please ignore that man behind the curtain. He simply doesn't appreciate the practice my already sensational practical joking skills got while in Korea."

Hawkeye's dad must have moved nearer to his son because I heard his response more clearly. It sounded something along the lines of, "More accurately, he doesn't appreciate being the target of said skills."

"Hmm, but he certainly doesn't mind the role of conniving accomplice."

I laughed as their banter continued for a couple moments longer. Now I certainly knew where Hawkeye's sense of humor came from.

When they finally managed a temporary cease-fire, Hawkeye cleared his throat and turned his attention back to our phone conversation. "In other local news, Sue's Sweet Shoppe is closed due to a tragic delay in supply shipments and heavy atmospheric gloom is predicted especially around young children and a slightly older doctor with a hopeless sweet tooth. Though the hopelessly sweet doctor with the slightly older tooth may be comforted in knowing that he and his team creamed Dale's team earlier in football."

His spiel set me chuckling again. I had forgotten how contagious his outrageous humor was. "You mentioned that game on your answering message."

"Yeah…"

There was a long, awkward silence this time as we both thought of what else was in that message.

At long last, Hawkeye cleared his throat and broke the silence. "So Margaret, what's new in the life of my favorite Major?"

I silently thanked him for changing the subject. Meanwhile, I kicked myself for going along with it. We'd both gotten too good at ignoring important subjects for our own good.

"Ex-Major, actually."

"You resigned?"

"Yep, not long after I got home, I hung up my uniform."

"You loved the Army."

"I decided there was something I loved more."

"Not another Ferret-Face I hope," he said in a half-joking, half-serious voice.

"Not unless you've undergone a massive change for the worse in a year-and-a-half."

If he could've seen me, I'm sure he would've seen my eyes grow nearly twice their original size. I hadn't meant for that to slip out, but he always did have a way of getting my guard down. It was too easy to open up further than I wanted when I fell into the old patterns of banter.

There was complete silence from his end of the line until, "What?"

"I love you, too."