Spoilers: "Let's Get It Ahn" and some "Duplicate Bridge".
NOTE: After watching "Let's Get It Ahn" for the third time this week, I finally dawned on me that not only was Marshall stuck wearing the ring all day, he had to sleep with it too! It wasn't until the next day that Eleanor got it off his finger. This is about Marshall's thoughts as he spends a long night with his nemesis.
I don't own the characters; I'm just inviting them over for a little while. This is my first attempt at writing fanfic. Please be gentle ;)
It had been a long day, in more ways that one. They had finally finished up at the casino and got Helen settled in for the night. Just what they were going to do with Helen long term was yet to be determined, but at least for now, she was safe. However, Inspector Mann had a more immediate problem to deal with.
Mary had left her car at the office, which was clear on the other side of town. It was getting late and she just wanted the day to be over, so she asked Marshall to drop her off at home. "What about…" he trailed off, tilting his head toward at his left hand. "I'm sure Raph's gonna wonder why I'm wearing it and you're not."
"Well, it would be easier to explain that I left it in my desk at work than how it came to be stuck on you." She flashed a weak smile at him and got out of the car. "Besides, Ringo, it looks good on you." He gave a little laugh and smiled back. "Good night," he said, "I'll pick you up at 7:30."
"Good night" she replied and turned toward the house. As soon as she was safely inside, he drove off into the lonely night.
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He pulled into his driveway, turned off the car and sat staring at the shiny bauble on his hand. The trapped finger was starting to turn an interesting color. How on earth am I going to get this stupid thing off?! he thought to himself. He decided that this question was best pondered over dinner and a stiff drink.
After rummaging through the refrigerator and finding some leftovers to warm up, he turned on the stereo that Norman had left him and put on the Count Basie album that had come with it. It had become his favorite mood music for pondering the state of the universe. Life had sure become complicated since that night on the bridge and he didn't have control over any of it. While dinner warmed up, he grabbed an ice pack out of the freezer and poured himself a glass of his favorite single-malt. He plopped down on the couch and put his hand over the back, wrapped up with the ice pack. Maybe elevation and ice would bring the swelling down enough for him to get the ring off, he hoped.
He fiddled with the ring mindlessly with his thumb as he sipped his drink. His best friend was going to marry a man she really didn't love. He knew it when he asked if she was happy about the engagement and she had to dig deep for a reply. But what hurt worse than that was the fact that she didn't even tell him about it. Why had she become so withdrawn and distant these last few weeks. Why couldn't she confide in him about this like she had about everything else in her life? Why was she shutting him out? Why was she condemning herself to a lifetime of unhappiness?
The sound of the timer snapped him back to the present. He got his dinner and sat at the table and stared at the ring. After a few vain attempts to get the thing off, he sighed deeply and set about eating. Now what? Am I going to be branded with this forever? The very symbol of what I can never have? How prophetic that her "ball and chain" has become mine.
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Why? The questions continued to roll through his mind as he returned to his spot on the couch and sipped another drink, foregoing the ice pack for the cold glass. He leaned his head back and soaked in the music, continuing to fiddle with the ring.
Why?
It couldn't be because she really loves someone else, could it? Could it be she feels about me the same way that I… "STOP IT! Stop projecting your feelings on her, you idiot" he shouted to the four walls that surrounded him. He leaned back again, trying to quiet his mind.
"Why?" he whispered aloud, exhausted.
He had tortured himself enough for one night. He dragged himself to bed and fell into a restless sleep.
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The next morning he pulled up in front of Mary's house and waited for her. As she came out, he noticed that it looked like she hadn't slept particularly well either. She got into the car and noticed her ring still taking up residence on his hand. "No luck, eh? I guess that means you're still my girl," she teased. "Funny", he snarked back, "What does that make you?"
They shared a quiet drive to the office, chatting occasionally about superficial things. Mary was engrossed in checking her messages as he dealt with the unusually obnoxious traffic. After what seemed like an eternity, they finally arrived at the office.
This was going to be a long day.
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Marshall sat next to his desk, gazing at Mary and rubbing the finger that had finally been liberated from its trap. His toast had affected her in a way he didn't expect. Her guard dropped, just for a moment. He could see it in her eyes.
Could it be?