A/N: Hello friends! I don't know if you're as happy to see me as I am to see you, but here I am nonetheless! It has been a difficult two months trying to crank out another fan-fiction, but good, bad, or indifferent, here is the result right in front of you. I have to admit that there are several things about this sequel – that I was just dying to write, by the way – that makes it different from my other stories.
First of all, it is far and away the longest fan-fiction I've ever written, not just by the number of chapters, but by the length of the chapters themselves. They start out between five and seven pages, but don't be surprised later on if they venture into ten. It was a story that really got away from me; I had no idea it was going to be so extensive, but it got out-of-control! Secondly, I do not 'know' this story as well. Usually, before I've posted, I have read and reread the chapters a ton of times. I think, due to how long it got, I didn't spend as much time going back over what I'd already written, so the author's notes on this go-around might not be as detailed! Also, I've not had a story where I feel like I tried to tie so many plots together; I hope I do it with style!
All of this is not to say this is going to be some great masterpiece – in fact, I'm actually concerned because it took me such a long time to write that it became forced or repetitive along the way. But, I'll close down the chatter and get down to business. This takes place just over a year after Mary has lost Jamie, and if you remember the epilogue of 'Empty Arms' she found out in April that she was expecting twins! It is now July and her and Marshall are rocking and rolling between their personal and WITSEC lives. Let's hope this first chapter grabs your attention!
XXX
Mary was freezing and thoroughly enjoying it. Every few seconds, she ascertained that taut and balmy stuffiness floating on the surrounding air, thick and suffocating. The sort of humidity that only penetrated in this, the very middle of a roasting July. Despite the deep, palpable summer's breeze that forever lingered in the confines of her home, the air conditioner still managed to penetrate its blasting iciness onto Mary's ever-expanding form.
Standing in the bathroom at three in the morning, after having gotten up to pee for what felt like the tenth time, she splashed cold water on her face before returning to her bed. Goosebumps were rising on her clammy skin, but she cared very little. Her cheeks blazed all the time these days; she could never get away from the hot weather completely. Nonetheless, having the vents on far past their maximum capacity did help. Sometimes, Mary wondered why she didn't simply strip her bed of all its sheets and blankets until September.
By the dim light of the bulb above her head, she examined herself briefly in the mirror over the sink, knowing full well she ought to go back to bed, thinking of the scolding Marshall would give her for being on her feet too long. Staring back at her was a face that did not entirely seem like her own, but the clues were there regardless.
Her cheeks were pudgy and round. If tempted, one could likely take great fistfuls in their fingers and pinch adoringly, not that Mary would ever let that happen. Her honey-colored hair was rather lank, after having been slept on, and a glance downward showed fingers the size of overstuffed sausages. Her toes resembled similar links of meat.
But, the real kicker was her midsection. Enormously rotund at almost exactly thirty-two weeks gestation, she resembled something along the lines of a perfectly inflated beach ball. Well, not exactly perfect. Spherical, she was not. She was lumpy, chubby, fat – you name it. If she hadn't been pregnant, she'd have been morbidly obese. Still, despite her unsightly appearance, there were hints to the fact that she was with child. Or, with children.
In pockets of Mary's belly were shapes – a head here, a butt there. Who could tell the difference, especially when there were two of them floating around within? At the moment, her son and daughter were entirely too active for three in the morning, even if their mother was the one getting them up before the sun.
Dispensing with the cold water on her already shiny face, Mary flicked the faucet off just in time to hear the front door open and close. Less intrigued and more elated, she crept to the closed door and listened carefully. She'd known there was a reason she'd been having trouble sleeping, apart from her squashed bladder.
It had been two weeks. A long, agonizing two weeks where Marshall was away on assignment booking a new witness out in Wyoming; prepping him, grooming him, before traveling safely with him across the border to life in Albuquerque. And now, her man had returned long before six o'clock, as he'd predicted.
Grinning in spite of herself, Mary lingered in the bathroom, listening to Marshall tiptoe around beyond the bedroom door, clearly thinking she'd be asleep. She waited, feeling stealth-like, while Beatrix slunk in through the crack in the hatch, winding herself around her master's ankles. She rubbed against Mary's swollen feet, purring and arching her back, which showed off her haphazard grey stripes.
Footsteps sounded in the hall and Mary killed the lights in the bathroom, thinking she'd give Marshall something of a surprise homecoming, knowing he'd expect her to be in bed. She peered one, mysterious green eye out the sliver of door, watching his shadow stumble around near the bed.
Beatrix began to mew when Mary wouldn't pay her any attention, and so she nudged her with her foot, refraining from reprimanding the cat out loud. Beatrix, however, remained unsatisfied and sauntered back through the door, making it creak. The sound clearly alerted Marshall, who resigned himself to having to turn a lamp on. Mary continued to watch, marveling at him trying to get both shoes off in the dark.
He was met with an empty bed, albeit with rumpled covers, when illumination swept the room. He took pause, and then noticed Beatrix looking deprived and sullen on the floor.
"Well, hello," he remarked placidly. Mary saw him bend over and scratch her ears, "Where's your mistress?"
Mary only had a moment to chew over the tackiness of the word 'mistress' before Marshall put two and two together, having heard the squeak of the hinges when Beatrix had emerged. His bright blue eyes, unusually weary with tiredness, scanned the bathroom door. Although Mary could only make out half his face, she was delighted by the grin that lit upon it, finding her hiding place at last.
"Ah…playing coy are we?" he assumed, taking a seat on the bed and unlacing his sneakers. He didn't romance for long, "You should be in bed, inspector," she ought to have known he'd jump straight to doting.
"Two weeks you don't see me and all you're worried about is my stupid health?" Mary snarked appropriately.
"Don't you love how she thinks she can fool me?" Marshall addressed Beatrix, who had leapt onto the mattress beside him. "That she thinks I don't know she worries herself to pieces over little Frick and Frack?" their affectionate names for their unborn children.
"You're the one talking to a cat, Poindexter," still secluded behind the door, only one lid showing.
He resumed, "And she thinks I don't know she engages in that sort of behavior too."
In truth, Mary did spend far too much time rambling to Beatrix, but she was through with their games, even having been the one who had started it. Two weeks was an eternity. She didn't see herself containing her enthusiasm at seeing Marshall any longer. Swinging the door open, she waltzed – well, waddled – out into the bedroom to a genuine smile from her partner, tossing his shoes to the carpet.
"You're early," Mary commented, dropping all pretense. "I didn't expect you until morning."
"It is morning," Marshall informed her in his usual smart ass way. "Has been for about three hours, give or take," he glanced at his watch.
Mary opted to let that one go, Marshall standing once more to greet her properly. He certainly didn't disappoint. To many wounded looks from the cat, he shook his head and gazed at her admiringly, clearly relishing the moment he could take her in his arms and plant one on her.
"God, I've missed you…" he breathed in a hushed voice. "Jesus. Fourteen days is too long. Never again; I'm telling Stan in the morning…"
He was slinking closer and closer.
"You said it is morning," Mary rebutted condescendingly, but they were past that now.
"Oh, shut up…" Marshall waved her off.
And without further ado, he took her into his arms, pulling her protruding form into his embrace as well as she would fit, kissing her long and hard on the mouth. Mary was the one to slope her fingers through his unkempt hair, soaking him in, pressed so tightly chest-to-chest it hurt in the most fantastic way possible.
Even when she tried to pull away to catch her breath, he hung on a second longer before ultimately deciding to let her go. It was only then, when she was cradled in his long arms and staring up into his handsome face, that he seemed to truly take in her appearance.
Undoubtedly still light-headed from their kiss, he blurted out the first thought that came to mind.
"Good golly," his eyes were on her enormous stomach.
Mary would've stuck a hand on her hip if she were able, "What?" settling for wrinkling her nose.
The dizzy feeling seemed to persist, because additional truths came to the forefront from a usually tactful Marshall.
"You're huge," he stated baldly. "When I left two weeks ago you weren't anywhere near this size…"
"Seriously?" Mary was surprised and a little amused at his frankness. "I'm carrying your kids around in my uterus, where they're taking up space and knocking on my organs and sending all the water I possess to every nook and cranny of my body and you're going to talk about my weight?" she raised an eyebrow. "Don't even get me started on the way the pair of them are making me barf my guts up every few days."
His enchantment faltered at this, "Still?" to be replaced by concern.
"Don't get your panties in a wad," Mary requested, compressing herself further into his grasp. "I talked to Doctor Reese last week. She said I'm fine."
"Sorry…" he came to a little better, smirking sheepishly and shaking his head. "I guess since you're sneaking up on eight months now, I should expect you to look like…" he shrugged. "Well, like you're harboring two babies."
"Damn straight, doofus," she poked a finger into his chest, not really irked by his comments. She herself had been rather in awe of how fast she was suddenly putting on the pounds, but after fourteen days apart, she did imagine Marshall had gotten a shock when it came to her vastness. "Little runts. They're chewing me up from the inside out."
"You really are…" Marshall ran a tentative hand over the most defined bulge, about to say 'growing' but Mary beat him to the punch.
"Looking like the Titanic? Globular? A hippopotamus? An elephant? The next Humpty Dumpty?"
He laughed, realizing his mistake a second time, "No." He was able to cover quickly, "I just missed you. You and Frick and Frack," he gave the bump a satisfying pat and backed away.
"Well, I'll let you off the hook…" Mary took pity and hit him lightly in the chest before indicating that Marshall should join her on the bed. "This time," she added playfully. "Since you're tired and all."
"My overworked brain thanks you deeply," Marshall sighed, looking as though he had died and gone to heaven at the sight of the inviting mattress heaped with Mary's sweaty sheets and blankets.
With that, he fell back-first onto the bed with an mammoth sigh, reminiscent of many of Mary's exhausted-pregnant-ones. She watched him for a moment; watched him close his eyes and run a hand over them, savoring the downy fluff and the ability to rest his lids and feet from their endless push on the gas pedal. Mary had the strong suspicion he would fall asleep in his clothes.
"So…" he finally vocalized with his eyes still shut while Mary swung herself in beside him, the springs making a precarious creak. "How are you feeling? Really," disregarding her spiel from two minutes before.
Mary waited until he gathered enough strength to face her again. When he did, his eyes were dusted and dewy with tiredness, but still their brilliant shade of blue. He looked strangely lopsided sprawled on his side, head not even touching his pillow. Mary towered over him from where she leaned against the headboard.
"I'm fine," she gave her stock response, resting careful fingers atop her swollen belly where they so effortlessly seemed to reside these days.
"That 'really' I concluded with was supposed to indicate that I expect a truthful response," Marshall explained, intellectual even in his fatigue.
"You'd better watch yourself if you make a habit of calling me a liar," Mary rebutted, shamelessly stalling for time.
"Look, as you said…" another sigh. "I'm tired. I would appreciate the rundown of symptoms in an orderly fashion so I can catch a few winks before dawn."
Mary took her turn at exhaling, taking to drumming her nails on her paunch. She felt a foot wiggle past the ridge where her pajama pants were squeezed tight around her nonexistent waistline. She could feel the wave it made, and wondered whether it was her son or daughter that was up in the wee hours of the night.
"Marshall, I'm really fine," she tried again. "I talked to you every day you were in Wyoming and Jinx or Brandi popped in on me every fourteen days," she emphasized with a grim smile. "Like I'm sure you paid them to do."
"I won't say money changed hands," Marshall said without any defense whatsoever. "But bribes may have been involved nonetheless."
"Whatever," she waved this aside with her free hand. "You really think I wouldn't have called you if there'd been an emergency of some kind? As you already so charmingly pointed out, the kids stayed where they were supposed to," pointing her index finger at the round.
Marshall, even in his stupor, seemed to be warming to the idea that Mary had held up fairly well in his absence. She wasn't being entirely deceitful. She'd felt as well as she ever did carrying two babies. Her feet constantly ached and her hands had gotten so swollen she could no longer punch the stapler at the office. She felt slower and heavier with each passing day, but aside from the occasional bouts of food that didn't agree with her, she was tip-top.
"So, everything's status quo?" Marshall finally inquired while Beatrix began to slink between their two reclined bodies, looking for the warm spot she'd left behind when Mary had retreated to the bathroom. "At least tell me if you've been sick. You mentioned that…"
His voice trailed off and Mary picked up the thread, "A few times, yes," she shook her head as though to ward off the idea. "But, it is hardly earth-shattering, Marshall. Brandi brought me sushi for dinner last Thursday and it was a long night. I concede."
Her man wrinkled his nose expertly, "The taste of raw fish coming back up one's gullet cannot be a pleasant experience."
"At least you know that much, Sherlock."
A momentary, comfortable silence fell as the clock inched its way toward 3:30. Beatrix settled down and nudged her head next to Mary's belly, blinking her eyes closed and beginning to purr against the mountain that was her master's stomach. Marshall didn't allow the quiet to envelope them for long, however.
With a wide yawn and an automatic scratch of Beatrix's ears, "Did you know it feels rather like the arctic in here?" he asked casually. "I think I saw some icicles forming on the coffee table on my way in."
There were indeed goose bumps all over his arms, but he was obviously too sleepy to try and warm up. Mary gave a sardonic, superior chuckle at his words.
"Smart ass," she accused. "It's seven hundred degrees outside. When you start carrying around fifty extra pounds in July, you can be in charge of the thermostat."
She also closed her eyes and, even in his effort to stay awake, felt Marshall take her hand. This was a telltale sign he was close to nodding off, whatever his attempts at fighting sleep. In the back of her mind, Mary knew he was doing it because he'd missed her; because he wanted to relish their first moments alone together in a very long two weeks.
She couldn't help noticing that his fourth finger, locked within hers, was bare and band-less, as was her own. While they'd discussed getting married, neither one of them were overly concerned with being official. As Marshall said, if the timing presented itself, they could go ahead with something civil. Otherwise, they were set as significant others.
As it was, he ignored her comment about the temperature and Mary only heard him through the shadows; shades drawn in front of her eyes.
"Busy day tomorrow?" he drawled lethargically.
"Mmm…" Mary nodded, also feeling exhaustion taking her into her subconscious. "I've gotta meet with Tripp Sullivan first thing in the morning…"
"'Bout what?" Marshall asked, though even in the darkness Mary did not think he sounded interested.
"I don't know," she answered honestly, knowing she should not go to sleep sitting up; her ailing back wouldn't thank her for it the next day. "He said it was urgent, but not an emergency. Find out tomorrow…"
"Okay…"
Even as she reminded herself of her creaky body, Mary made no effort to move from her half-reclined position, at peace with Beatrix against her belly and Marshall's fingers in her own. They should turn the lights out. She should let Marshall put on pajamas. And even as she thought all these things, she knew neither one of them were moving until morning.
"Go to sleep…" she suggested with a squeeze in his palm. "We'll catch up in the morning."
She fully expected another, 'okay' to follow, and forced herself to open her eyes when she got no response. She grinned softly seeing that Marshall had rolled onto his side, facing her and the cat. He was seconds away from going under, fingers limp inside hers, his other hand fallen slack on Beatrix's fur. Even half-conscious, she found him flawless.
"Goodnight…" Mary whispered, somewhat amused at how fast he'd succumbed.
But, it was her voice a second time that jarred him into life for a brief moment. His eyes remained closed, hiding their gorgeous sky blue, but she both felt and saw him hitch at the sound of her tone.
"I really missed you…" he promised in a drone, showing her his need for rest was nothing personal.
Mary grinned and gave his hand another nudge with hers, "Yeah, I guess I mourned not having my little walking dictionary around for two weeks. What a tragedy."
Marshall recognized the sarcasm and gave a final compress before losing himself in pregnant women, cats, freezers, and clammy sheets.
"That's my girl."
XXX
A/N: It is definitely fluff to begin, but it should pick up in a hurry! I can't tell you how great it is to be back. I must apologize because I have been woefully inept at reviewing other stories lately; I get in my little writing cloud and don't come up for air sometimes. I hope you'll forgive me my lame excuses, and I hope you enjoyed the beginning!
