Title: Mary/Marshall iPod Challenge
Fandom: In Plain Sight
Pairing/Characters: Mary, Marshall, and assorted characters from throughout the series
Rating: M/R - for sexual situations and cursing
Summary: Mary and Marshall drabbles inspired by the iPod playlist.
Spoilers: For both seasons.

A/N: I literally discovered this series and pairing a few weeks ago. I've been addicted ever since. This is my first time playing in this particular sandbox. I saw the Challenge and just went for it, having far too much fun in the process.

The first ten drabbles are based on my iPod shuffle. The second ten are based on Bujyo's shuffle.

Please let me know what you think!


Desire - U2

Yeah, I'm like the needle, needle and spoon

Marshall had his first erotic dream starring his partner about a month after they started working together.

In the dream, Mary was wearing a pale pink bra with a little bow situated right between her breasts as she rode him oh so gently. That she was wearing anything with a bow voluntarily was the first hint that this was, perhaps, not actually real. Not to mention the fact they were in the Post Office and the poster announcing the stamp of the month featured OJ Simpson.

He woke up just as she reached around to undo the clasp of the bra. Marshall lay awake feeling his veins pulse and his groin ache. He groaned loudly and pressed the heels of his palms to his eyes. He glanced at his alarm clock. 5:20 am shone back at him.

As he stumbled to his bathroom, he muttered, "I will not fall in lust with my partner. I will not fall in lust with my partner. I will not fall in lust with my partner."

It never occurred to him to replace 'lust' with that other four letter word that began with 'L' in his mantra.

That particular revelatory dream came a year later and involved the cereal aisle in the grocery store.

Invincible - Pat Benatar

It's a do or die situation - we will be invincible.

"Pat."

"Blondie."

"Pat."

"Blondie."

"Pat."

"Blondie."

"Marshall. Pat Benatar would so kick Blondie's ass. It's the heels, dude. And, she's been through the battlefield that is love, so she knows how to throw down."

"Well, if we're going for true accuracy here, Blondie actually refers to the entire band made up of roughly five members, including Debbie Harry. That amount of manpower would most certainly subdue Ms. Benatar, killer heels notwithstanding."

Mary glared at Marshall over her desk. Marshall wisely kept his eyes on his computer screen as he continued, "Even if we were just singling out Debbie Harry for this fight, I'd put my faith in the former Playboy bunny myself."

Mary rolled her eyes and opened her mouth to launch a retort, when Eleanor dropped a file on her desk and said, "I don't know why you two are even debating this."

Marshall looked abashed and Mary slumped in her seat.

Eleanor walked over to Marshall's desk and picked up one of his forms and the office manager went on to say, "Because everyone knows that Joan Jett would have taken both of them down blindfolded."

Push It - Garbage

i was angry when i met you

"Oh, Christ on a cracker!"

Mary looked down at the smear of ketchup on her nice I-only-wear-these-to-court pants. "Well, that's just classy."

She dabbed at the stain and looked around the diner for her waitress. As she made definite eye contact with the woman and the woman deliberately turned her back on her, Mary wondered if perhaps she should have been nicer when she ordered.

"Damn it!"

"Here," a dry voice said. Mary looked up to see a Shout pen dangling over the dividing wall between the booths. She followed the pen to the long fingers that held it, to the even longer arm, all the way up to the sharp cheekbones and blue eyes. And a far too amused smirk on his face.

"Thanks," Mary said. She grabbed the pen just as her phone rang. She answered and viciously scrubbed at her pants at the same time.

"Hello....What?...Oh for crying out loud...No, no, stay there...I'm on my way."

She threw ten dollars down on the table and rushed out the door. It wasn't until she was trying to buckle her seatbelt that she realized she still held the Shout pen in her hand. She made a face and sighed, but drove off anyway.

One week later, Mary was introduced to her new partner, Marshall Mann. His eyes flickered with recognition just as her brain caught up, but he said nothing to Stan.

Three months later after an especially tough case where Marshall narrowly pulled her out of a situation, he came in to find a very used and almost empty Shout pen on his desk.

Farewell to the Fairground - White lies

farewell to the fairground, these rides aren't working anymore

So. That's what they never told him about.

Marshall felt the bullet hit his chest. Felt the pain, the white heat of the metal as it burned into his flesh.

Nothing had ever hurt this much in his life. (nothing would ever come close until that day in the diner with that awful, awful ring Mary showed him and he let it get stuck on his finger, because the sharp pain of the metal on his finger matched the sharp pain in his heart)

'This is it,' he thought, as he pulled himself up, his fingers getting burned from the hot metal of the SUV. 'This is what they wanted to tell me but could never actually tell me.'

He remembered every story his father and grandfather told him about being a US Marshal. About the daring rescues and the shoot-outs in alleys. He remembered all the details of those tales. But, he also remembered the hooded looks in their eyes and how he knew there was something they weren't telling him.

As he pulled himself upright and stood tall, firing back, helping his partner and ignoring the searing in his chest, he finally knew what that look had meant.

Feelin' Good - Nina Simone

*This takes place right after Kay in Who Shot Jay Arnstein? jumps into the pool. I couldn't help it. I liked Kay and felt that she and Marshall would have definitely stayed in touch and been pen pals after the episode*

freedom is mine

Marshall squinted as he watched Kay swim over to him. Once she got near his legs, she grinned at him happily. She still held the martini glass in her hand.

"Feel better?" he asked.

"Hell yeah," she said breathlessly as she treaded water. She ducked under again and resurfaced next to him. Kay lifted herself out of the water, splashing his pants and the outside of his sling. "Sorry."

"I'll dry," he said. "What brought this on?"

Kay let her head fall back as she gazed at the sky. "Did you know that there is no actual word that is the opposite of entropy?"

Marshall blinked. "Come again?"

"I looked it up," she said. She gave him a sideways glance. "I do know how to use the internet for more than ordering from Frederick's of Hollywood, you know."

"Never doubted it for a second," he said with a swallow.

"Anyway, since there is no specific opposite of entropy, I decided that I'd get as close as I could to representing something good for a change," she said shaking her head letting droplets fly over both of them. "And that means cleansing myself and focusing on creating instead of destroying."

"Very proactive of you," Marshall said.

"And I finally realized what I'd like out of life," she said looking at him.

"And what is that?" he asked.

She smiled and leaned in and gently pressed her lips to his. He smelled chlorine and raspberries from her shampoo. She pulled back with her smile still in place. "Ahh, Kay..."

"Relax, Marshal Marshall," she said. "This isn't a come on. For once. You're a nice guy. I mean, a little slow on the uptake and not much of a grabber, because, I mean," she gestured to her admitted lovely and wet body, "hello! But, a nice guy."

"And that's what you want? A nice guy?" he asked.

"It's not a bad starting point, is it?" she said flicking a little water at his face.

"I can certainly think of worse," he said.

Clumsy Card House - Blue October

yeah, I said forever

"So, what kind?" Mary asked looking over the top of her magazine.

"What kind, what?" Marshall said.

"What kind of exotic animal?" she asked.

Marshall looked up from his Jumble and over at Mary sitting in the chair next to his hospital bed. He opened his mouth and then closed it. She sighed and leaned forward.

"You know, a few days ago, there was blood and dust and a guy calling himself Lola and you said that you were like this keeper of..."

"I... know what I said," he said clearing his throat and tapping his pencil against the paper. "And I was really going for more of a metaphorical thing as opposed to an actual physical animal. The 'exotic animal' as a general allegory to...

"Yeah, yeah, blah, blah-bitty blah. Just give me an animal, Marshall," Mary said.

"Ah, oh, ah... A fox?"

"A fox."

"Yeah, like a silver fox, the ones in the Arctic that are fierce and fast," he said and Mary suspected it was only due to amount of blood he'd lost that made his blush so faint.

She grinned.

"So, you're saying you think I'm foxy," she asked. Marshall groaned. "Like Foxy Brown foxy? 'Cause I could be down with the hot pants after a month or so at the gym."

Marshall blinked and made the same face he made after she'd whored herself up for Treena that time. Mary snapped her fingers in front of his face. "Yo, lech. Snap out of it."

"Sorry, but you said hot pants," he said.

"Right. So, I'm a fox."

"Yeah."

"Awesome."

Electric Feel - MGMT

turn me on with that electric feel

Mary was aware that her partner was an attractive man. Tall, lean, with cheekbones models would die for and not a half bad tush. Not that she was looking. Or at least not that she looked a lot.

But, it wasn't until one day while reading the paper together and he just pulled the sports section out and handed it to her, so she could read it first. He had a routine when it came to his paper and it basically added up to the fact that the sports page came last.

Anyway, he handed the section to her and then reached for the box of donut holes he'd brought over. She watched from the corner of her eye as he picked up a hole and ate it in one bite. Then, he did the unthinkable.

He licked his fingers.

The man licked his fingers.

And her heart and the pit of her stomach stuttered. Frickin' stuttered. Like a kid with a... stutter. Oh, like she could be coherent while the realization that her partner was actually hot like a hot thing was flying through her brain. All because his fingers were long and they knew how to take a Glock a part in less than 30 seconds and she's seen what they can do with silly putty and... Crap.

She frowned and looked down at the paper, her entire world view was completely blown. Because, her partner was hot and had fingers just made for dirty, dirty acts on a woman's body.

Damn it.

Elsewhere - Sarah MacLachlan

*At some point after The Gilted Lily.*

the calm inside me

Like a river.

Let it flow like a river.

Mary didn't feel like a river.

She felt like a swamp. Stagnant and sucking. Smelly.

She took a shower.

She tried to commune with the water coming out of the shower head. Hoping it might help her be more river-like.

All it did was wash her shampoo into her eyes and make them sting like a son of a bitch.

Mary got out of the shower. She dried off and got into bed.

Before she knew it, she had her phone in her hand and had pressed his name.

"Hey."

"Tell me about rivers," she said.

"Well, the longest one in the world is the Nile. But, the one that's always fascinated me in the Ganges. I saw a documentary once and it showed the way it floods during the monsoon season..."

Mary fell asleep with images of flowing currents in her head.

Run - Amy MacDonald

I will love until my heart it breaks

Marshall Mann likes to run.

He gets up early in the morning, puts on his running shoes that he's had for far too long and runs. For five miles, every day.

Mary Shannon hates to run.

Really hates to run.

"It's the devil's exercise," she told Marshall one day when she arrived early to his house to pick him up when his truck was in the shop.

"Exercise or ex-or-cise?" he asked.

"No. No way. It's too early for word games," she said.

"It's never too early for word games," he said as he peeled his sweaty shirt off and headed to his bathroom to shower.

"Why do you do it?" she asked as she went to his bookcase and started to move his carefully ordered novels around. She smirked as she put a book of poems in with the graphic novels.

"Because, it's good for you," he called back.

"Bo-ring," she said as she leafed through a copy of the Rubaiyat.

"Because, it was the first thing in my life that I did well," he said coming into the living room. Mary looked over at him. "You know, before I became the amazing specimen I am today."

"Dweeb."

Electric Love Letter - Langhorne Slim

we got nowhere else to be

Marshall loves watching football with Mary.

She yells and cringes and yells some more.

Then she orders him to get more pizza and beer.

Another cool thing about watching football with Mary is the fact that she never picks a favorite team. She just wants both teams to score the whole time. Which is probably revealing of something, but hey, it's football. Marshall will happily find patterns in anything, but draws a line at guys in plastic padding throwing a ball around.

The other thing he loves about watching football with Mary is how at half-time, she crawls into his lap and kisses his neck like she can't get enough of the taste of his skin. He spans his hands on her waist, her back, palms her breasts and presses up into her, before finally catching her mouth with his.

The last thing he loves about watching football with Mary is the fact that they never, ever watch the second half.

Purple Rain - Prince

and let me guide you to the purple rain

Marshall loves weather.

It doesn't matter if it's good weather or bad weather, he just likes weather. He becomes enraptured by the Weather Channel when they're waiting in the airport for a connection and has the UK's Met Office and Weather Underground on his bookmarks on his computer. Lord help the person who calls when he's watching Storm Chasers.

One day it started hailing and before Mary knew it, he was outside standing just under the overhang watching it. Hail stones the size of ping pong balls danced around the tips of his boots. Then she watched from the window as he held out his mug and let the hail fall into it.

He came back inside with the most satisfied grin on his face, like he'd just accomplished something he'd worked hard for, and Mary just didn't have the heart to rib him about it. She did roll her eyes and shake her head.

When the hail stones melted, Marshall poured the water onto the office plant.

Faith -- Wham!

well, i guess it would be nice/if i could touch your body

She starts with his cheekbones.

She trails her fingers over their edges and then down to his lips.

He kisses the tips of his fingers, because he's Marshall and he always has to taste everything at least once. But, she won't be diverted from her exploration.

Her fingers continue along the muscles of his neck and rest over his heart. She rakes her nails over his nipples, his solar plexus and she smiles at his gasp.

Then down, down his abdomen to the section where his hip meets his groin. He's ticklish there, that soft skin is so responsive, she trails the back of her nail over it and he writhes and trembles beneath her.

Her hand moves down and goes to curl around him...

And her alarm goes off and she curses herself once again for eating leftover Chinese food before going to bed.

May It Be -- Enya

a promise lives within you now

"Hey."

Mary looked up from her bed hospital bed and grinned at her partner standing in the doorway with a brown envelope in his hands.

"Hey, sneak me out of here," she said.

"Sorry, Ethel," he said coming to sit in the chair next to the bed. "No can do. The nurses in this place frighten me."

"Wimp, and I'm so not Ethel, Ethel," she said adjusting her back against the pillow.

"Too right," he said with a weak shadow of his true grin. "You are definitely Lucy material."

He looked down at the envelope in his hands and before she could say anything, he laid it gently on her lap. "Your personal effects," he said softly. "This is what they had to take from you at the scene and they gave them back to me to give to you."

"Oh." Mary stared at the envelope like it was a cockroach. "Thanks."

"You're welcome."

She opened it and peered inside. She saw her keys, some gum, and Raph's ring. God, her ring.

She sighed.

"Seven."

"What?" she asked.

"It took you seven seconds that day to answer me," Marshall said.

Mary looked at him.

"I counted," he went on. "I counted seven hippopotamuses from me asking if you were happy to you answering. It should not take you seven hippopotamuses to answer that question."

"You counted?"

"Yes."

"Jesus, Marshall. You count using hippopotamuses?"

He leaned in quickly. "Stop focusing on the trivia, Mary. See the forest."

"What?" she asked. "What forest?"

"You always focus on the spruce in front of you," he said. "You don't look at the massive national park laid out at your feet."

Mary's eyes widened and all the emotion on Marshall's face drained away, leaving him looking tired.

"Just, look for the forest," he said quietly.

He got up and walked out of her room.

Mary stared at the door counting hippopotamuses.

*yes, i counted the seconds in the scene for posterity. stop looking at me like that!*

Head Like a Hole -- Nine Inch Nails

Warnings: AU Werewolf/Shapeshifter!Marshall

*AU Werewolf!Marshall is most definitely influenced by randomrattle's Vampire!Marshall. I can only apologize and say that I think he'd make a lovely wolf. The scene actually goes on, but I technically ran out of time. I might have to re-visit this. Would that be something folks would want to read?*

no you can't take that away from me

Mary watched him transform from a safe distance. Safe distance being about 50 yards away. From here, the way his body contorted and his arms moved, it looked like some kind of modern dance. Granted, a bizarre modern dance where the dancers turned into wolves, but still a dance.

He made her stay away because he didn't want her to hear his bones crunch and pop.

Once, he was fully transformed, he padded over to her, his fur thick and tawny, his eyes pale blue with flecks of gold. His gaze on her was warm. Only Marshall, even as a wolf, would continue to have warm feelings.

She crouched down to meet his eyes, never, ever showing any submission and he stared back. Then he quickly licked a stripe up the side of her face and bounded away while she laughed and cursed him. She watched him run out into the desert, the moonlight reflecting off his coat.

Then she went home, left a tall glass of milk on the counter for when he returned, took her clothes off, put on one of his shirts and curled up in his bed.

Hoedown Throwdown -- Miley Cyrus

boom de clap de clap

Marshall didn't just wear his cowboy boots for effect.

He knew how to ride, track, muck out stalls, shoot, all by the age of twelve. The whole cowboy thing was pretty much his true self and he was happy that way.

Which was why he surprised himself when he signed up for the mambo lessons. And why he was even more surprised by how much he enjoyed them.

It was like fighting or even riding a horse. There was power and skill intermixed with style and grace. You had to be aware, because one wrong move and you were flat on your back.

He signed up for Pasa Doble lessons after the mambo ones ended.

Carol of the Bells -- Trans Siberian Orchestra

Mary blamed it on the mistletoe.

That was what was making the entire building so whacked out.

Someone (and Mary's money was on Connie in Accounting while Marshall was still gunning for Clarence in IT) was moving the same cursed little sprig of mistletoe all over the building and catching people unawares.

It had already caught two people from Human Resources, about half a dozen Marshals, and one of the department heads and his secretary. He kissed her on the cheek while people aw-ed and clapped politely.

Mary had been caught by it exactly once so far and it was with Vern, the short little balding fellow from the mail room. She gave him a big smack on the top of his head and he grinned at her.

Marshall came into the office one morning with bright pink lipstick on the side of his face and a shell-shocked expression.

"Oh, diddums," Mary said. "Did wittle Marshall get molested by Karen from PR? Again?"

"The woman is a cougar," he said. "A cougar in a beige sweater set with a collection of cat pins."

Mary laughed for five minutes afterwards.

Of course, of course, she and Marshall got caught underneath it. It was in the door way to the patio where they ate their lunch and they'd been so busy discussing their latest case it took a wolf whistle from someone to alert them to the little green menace.

They looked up. They looked at each other. They rolled their eyes and leaned in.

What startled Mary wasn't the fact that there was passion underlying the simple kiss, or the fact that Marshall's lips were firm and gentle and he smelled like Marshall.

It was the fact that it felt like they'd kissing for years only they hadn't actually been using their lips. Noses aligned perfectly, his hand steadied her elbow in a warm but loose grip and she let the tip of her tongue touch his lower lip so briefly, later he wouldn't be able to recall if he'd felt it or not.

They pulled back at the same time and blinked slowly. Then Marshall waggled his eyebrows at her. Mary grinned, turned and gave the room of spectators a saucy wink; then they went outside and ate their lunch.

Put Your Records On -- Corinne Bailey Rae

when you gonna realise, that you don't even have to try any longer?

"Chocolate."

Marshall gave Mary a sideways glance.

"Vanilla," he said.

"What?" she asked looking from their witness' house over to him with a funny look. "Vanilla?"

"What? I thought we were doing that game where someone says a word and the other person has to respond with the first word they think of," he said.

"When have we ever played that game?" she asked.

"Never. I just thought you were trying something new," he said.

"The day I start a word game with someone voluntarily, I give you complete permission to hit me in the face with a plank of wood."

"Do you have a preference of wood specie?"

"No, no. Any type will do, thank you."

"Duly noted."

There was silence for a few minutes.

"I was just amending my statement from the other day," Mary said.

"Oh?"

"I'd sell you out for chocolate," she said. "Not a Twinkie. And it would have to be the good stuff from Bolivia."

"Belgium."

"Whatever," she said waving a hand. "I'd hold out for the good stuff before I sold you out."

"I think I'm flattered," he said. He paused and tilted his head, then nodded. "Yes, definitely flattered."

"What would you sell me out for?" she asked.

"A strawberry-lime soda from Sonic. With tater tots," he said promptly.

Mary's jaw dropped and she whipped her head around to look at him.

"You'd give me up for a soda?" she asked.

"And tater tots. They're kind of a deal breaker," he said.

"Tater tots."

"Not just any tater tots, mind you," he said. "They'd need to be the perfect shade of light tan to brown, soft on the inside and sufficiently crunchy on the outside with not too much salt. The amount of grease left on your fingers should not make the steering wheel disgustingly slippery and they should all be the same size."

Mary stared at him until her eyes watered and she had to blink.

"Those are impossible standards for Sonic tater tots," she said.

"Yes, they are," he said.

She thought for a second and then turned her head to hide her smile.

Faithfully -- Journey

i get the joy of rediscovering you

The meth lab did not actually explode. However, the chemist, the illustrious Johnny B., did manage to drop a substance on the floor that went straight up Mary's nose and jumbled her brains just a little bit. She was still running on adrenaline and pure irritation, so the effects of the stuff didn't hit her until after dear old Johnny had been cuffed and thrown into a squad car.

Then her knees buckled and the last thing she saw was the comical widening of Marshall's eyes.

Mary came to in the passenger seat of the WitSec truck. Marshall was standing next to her and offering a bottle of water. She looked at the bottle and then at him.

"You drink it," he said.

She drank the whole thing. Then squinted at him.

Marshall took the cue, because he always took her cues and he explained, "You fainted."

"I did not."

"No? Oh, so that was a new dance move you were trying out that results in you landing flat into my arms unconscious?" he asked.

"Oh, crap." She closed her eyes.

"Yeah."

"I fainted."

"Yep."

"Into your arms."

"Yep."

"You caught me?"

"Yep."

"Oh crap."

"Would you have rather I let you hit the pavement?" he asked as he took away her empty bottle and gave her a new one.

"Maybe."

"You're so nice."

Mary glared at him and he just grinned. She drained the new bottle of water.

"So, you caught me," she said

"Yep."

"Hunh," she said squinting at him again. "You actually managed to catch me."

"I'll always manage to catch you."

Silence.

Crickets chirped.

Mary just kept squinting at him.

"That was cheesy, wasn't it?" Marshall said with a wince. "Even for my saccharine standards."

"Doesn't make it any less true, though," she said resting her head against the back of the seat.

Marshall arched an eyebrow. "Are you still lightheaded?"

"Shut up. You caught me."

That's Not my Name -- Ting Tings

are you calling me darling?

Everyone thinks that Marshall is the soft, gooey fluffernutter in the sandwich that is their partnership.

And most of the time, they're absolutely right. He's the one the kids like to talk to, the one the moms automatically hand their babies too when they're fussy, the one that always has a tissue or band aid.

And Mary is totally cool with that. He can be the fluffernutter and she can be the crunchy white toast on the outside. That's peachy keen, jellybean.

Because, Mary has discovered that Marshall actually can be just as much of a jackass as she can.

He loves watching people try open doors that clearly say 'Use Other Door!' It makes him chuckle and smirk. He'll then expound on the sociological study that was once done regarding how much people don't actually read signs. How they'll pull and push the door for hours until they stop and read the sign.

"God gave you eyes! Use them!" he yelled once inside the car at a teenage boy who spent nearly ten minutes jostling the handle.

Mary nearly choked on her onion ring.

He believes American Idol is the product of the devil and mocks the singers who actually have good voices with a fervor that is frightening to behold.

Do not get him started on Mac vs PC. Just don't.

For that matter, don't even attempt to know anything about computer tech, because, honestly? You don't know jack and he will tell you so. Politely, but the derision is still there.

So, Mary will sit back and watch him charm the kids and the moms and grandmas and the dads and, well, just about everyone.

Because she knows that this fluffernutter is just as cracked as she is.

Your and Your Hand -- Pink

*I know that Mary would not put them in this particular situation for numerous security reasons, but let's just call it crack!fic and leave it there.*

it's just u and ur hand tonight

Mary wanted to frame the look on Marshall's face. Seriously. Put it in a frame with fake gold ivy leaves and hang it in her bedroom.

It was a look that was one part horror, one part embarrassment and about two tablespoons aroused.

It was the most adorkable thing she'd ever seen.

Their witnesses had been so happy to be reunited after their week long separation. The bad guys were in jail or the hospital, the flight to relocate them was leaving in two hours, so, who was Mary to deny them a quickie in the 7-11?

It was worth it for the look on Marshall's face as the couple didn't even attempt to be quiet.

"You're turned on," she said from where they stood sentry.

"Am...not," he said with a pursed lips.

"Are so," she said. "I had no idea that Randall was such a goer. Lucky Liz."

"Oh, God," Marshall said with a wince.

An echoed oh, god came from the bathroom.

"If you had to, what would you use?" she asked looking around the convenience store.

"Use?"

"You know. To help yourself out," Mary said as nonchalantly as you please. "I think these places have lotion, but if you had to improvise."

"Please stop talking."

"I'd recommend the pudding cups myself," she said. "They're kind of like lotion, only they taste better. Ooh, they've got butterscotch! You really could be a butterscotch stallion!"

"I will literally pay you cash money to stop talking."

"Giddy up, Marshall."