Chapter Text
Flagg knew that Pierce was his pack alpha from the moment he met him, not that he could admit it. Doing so would reveal that he was changing his scent. He was confident in Pierce's ignorance until after his completely necessary appendectomy. Pierce had given him a look and a pat on his shoulder after administering the penicillin that told him everything he needed to know.
He knew that Margaret Houlihan was his mate from the moment he met her as well. But she had never sniffed his internal organs, so she wouldn't be able to truly scent him and discover their true compatibility.
He wouldn't let himself fall into bed with her either. To do so would reveal that biologically he wasn't the alpha that he presented himself as, but an omega. At least according to one piece of paper held by the CIA and the accident of hormones his body created in his teenage years. This was another thing that Pierce and McIntyre would have discovered when they did his surgery. And he had to give it to them, they might do everything to prevent him from doing his job, but neither of them had even mentioned it.
He knew, technically, he shouldn't take any cases with the 4077th. As soon as he realized Pierce was his pack alpha and that Margaret was his mate, he should have disclosed that there was a conflict of interest to his superiors and had the unit blacklisted for future assignments. But he just couldn't bring himself to do it.
He knew it would be difficult, if not nearly impossible to get the permission to mate and declare a pack affiliation, but it was nice to be able to drop in and make sure they were all alright every once in a while.
He did his job, even if it meant gathering evidence against his own pack, he did his job. Not that anything ever came of those investigations. He always had a complicated sense of relief when he left the 4077th that he was never able to put into words.
He only let his emotions get the better of him once. It was when Margaret went missing. He was prepared to send whole battalions of pilots into the air to search for her and he hated Pierce for suggesting it was overkill.
When she returned he had been overtaken with relief and then an immediate feeling of jealousy when Hunnicutt and Pierce had gone to hug her, he almost revealed that she was his mate.
His heart pounded in his ears when she walked through the door. It wasn't fair that Hawkeye and BJ could touch her without scrutiny. Without thinking he blurted out, “Nobody touch her! She's m- She might be booby trapped.” He barely stopped himself from saying, “she's mine,” but he felt confident that everyone was distracted enough they didn't notice.
That was one of the few times that he actually got hurt accidentally. His mind was clouded with the scent of his mate and pack, and the relief that she was alright, and all of it, that he didn't land right when he jumped out of the window and broke his leg. At least Margaret was the nurse helping Pierce set it and put it in the cast.