Mary and Marshall pull out outside of her house after a long day of pushing papers at the office. He turns and looks at her, smiling expectantly. Hopping out of the care, both inspectors hear toward the door.
"So, what's for dinner?" Marshall asks, taking off his coat and laying it neatly over the back of the couch.
"I figured that you'd know the answer to that question all ready, unless you feel like takeout."
He cocks his head. "What? You're not going to make anything?"
When she turns and looks at him, narrowing her eyes in an "it should be obvious" way, he can tell that she's serious. "What do you think the answer is, trivia wiz?"
Grinning, Marshall turns back to his partner. "Maybe you're a poet and you don't really know it."
She feigns a laugh, dry and as always, a bit humorless and responds with, "You're funny."
His eyelids lower a bit, as if he is tired or bored. "How original Mare."
She looks at him over her shoulder. "Maybe you're an idiot. How's that for original?"
He claps, looking a bit sardonic. "Even better. Ultra-original and very unique!"
Both of them are silent for a minute.
"So, unless you'd rather spend the night cleaning up that FBI asshole's mess, I do have a few things here to make."
He nods. "Food sounds better."
Mary nods. "I can make Italian. Angel hair noodles served in a thick, creamy cheese sauce…"
Marshall can't help but to laugh at this.
Mary glances at him, her usual grin all ready in place. "What's so funny jackass?"
He has to calm himself down before continuing. "Now you're just reading the description off a box of instant pasta. Come on."
She smirks. "So what's wrong with that?"
He makes a face and she dives back into the cabinet for more food.
"Well, I can make ramen!" She grins widely, making her partner roll his eyes.
"Okay, that's it." He walks toward the kitchen, grinning like a mad man, while Mary just stares, bewildered. "What?"
Reaching out, Marshall attempts to take the packet of ramen noodles from her hand, which she promptly pulls back from him. "Nuh-uh. You are not taking this! You're gonna eat the damn ramen noodles and you're going to like it!"
He makes another grab for the packet, Mary and him both stumbling back into the counter top. "Back off!" She yelps, trying not to laugh so hard.
Marshall, still grinning, finally reaches up and grabs her wrist with one hand while taking the packet from her with the other. "Damn you!" She whines while he shrugs.
Throwing the packet back onto the counter, Marshall steps in toward her. "Give it back! Damn you!"
He just continues to smile and then grabs her arm and pulls her away from the counter and then pushes her into the living room. "Get out of the kitchen! Only cooks belong in here."
She just stares. "Did you just push me?"
He shrugs. "Maybe…" Scoffing, Mary shoves him back toward the counter.
"Just go sit," He urges, giving her another little shove.
"I'll make the food." Shaking her head, Mary forces her way toward him again. "You are not forcing me out of my own kitchen!"
"Oh yes I am. Go wait in the living room or you don't eat at all. How's that for an ultimatum?"
Her nose scrunches up a bit and she pouts. "Come on, I'm right…now go and sit."
She finally gives up, nodding her head. Her eyes catch his. "Fine. You win. I'll go and wait like a good little four-year-old."
He grins at her again, nodding as he turns to look for ingredients. "That's my girl!"