Missing scene from Love in the Time of Colorado. Written in response to a request. Plus, we should have seen the conversation between Mary and Marshall after the training incident.
Mary gave a sideways glance to Marshall, sitting stiff and tense in her passenger seat. Emotion was rolling off of him in waves; anger, outrage, disgust, alpha male protectiveness. The silence continued between them as they both stared at the training center parking lot, the large red Mesa Fitness & Training sign like a taunt over the entrance to the building where their shared humiliation occurred. Mary, unable to break Scalavino's hold and having to endure repeated public gropings, and Marshall losing control and being publicly reprimanded.
"Marshall," she said softly, "what was that about?" She had been shocked when Scalavino pushed her aside just as he got rushed by Marshall. She almost couldn't believe the evidence of her own eyes: her calm, controlled, genial, logical partner rolling around on the ground with their asswipe instructor. She had been vaguely aware of Marshall's verbal protests during the exercise, but had been unable to see his face. She didn't see the gathering storm clouds settling on his forehead, the intent gaze focused on wandering hands, the moment the decision was made as she had hissed at Scalavino to get his hands off her ass.
He didn't look at her, but compressed his lips and continued to sit in stony silence. Hands clenched, and resting on the knees of his blue sweats, the muscles in his neck corded, tension surrounding him like an aura. Mary had never seen him like this. Not in the most dire of situations. Marshall was never inappropriate. That was her part to play in the partnership.
"Marshall?" She gingerly reached over to touch his arm, startled when he pulled away. It was rattling, to see her partner with the 'do not touch' signs posted.
"I need to know," she whispered, unease and concern growing in her belly. He heard the thin note of fear and shifted uncomfortably.
"He had his hands on you." Low, hoarse, angry. He shifted his gaze to the mountains in the distance. "He had...his hands..on you." The words emerged almost in a growl. Primal, visceral, possessive. Marshall was fairly vibrating with emotion. "He was hurting you."
"No, Marshall, he didn't hurt me." Mary decided to take the last statement first. And she wouldn't mention the bruising she already felt coming up on her arms or the tenderness in her ribs. "It wasn't real, it was just a simulation. We both know how Scalavino is. He wouldn't have really hurt me. He just wanted to cop a feel. No other way he gets that close to a real woman."
Marshall finally turned his head and looked at her, his eyes steely blue. "He grabbed you. Over and over. Put his hand on your breast. He groped you. He had no right, no right to touch you."
He was acting like a lover wronged Mary thought, like someone was honing in on his territory. Mary opened her mouth, but Marshall continued. "He was wrong. When he said no one in the world would help you. No one would come for you. There's me. I will always be there for you." Memories of dank basements and bright hospital corridors tormented him with the falsehood of his words, but he pressed on. "I will always come for you."
"Marshall, I don't doubt you for a minute. I know you have my back. But you were too protective in there. You've never done that out in the field. Good thing too, or I would kick your ass. Why in there? Why today? Because some asshat copped a feel? I have to know you believe in my ability to protect myself and by extension you." Laughter filtered in through the cracked window as another class exited the building.
"I know. I don't have any doubts as to your abilities. I don't want anyone else by my side Mary. It's just his damn wandering hands. Scalavino took advantage of his position. He's been doing it for years and getting away with it. Because no one ever did anything about it. He treated you like a piece of meat, like he owned you."
"He did. And I will lodge a formal complaint. But you over-reacted Marshall. You assaulted the man for chrissake!"
Marshall looked down at his hands. Schoolyard brawl. Over a girl. He hadn't been involved in anything like this since junior high. There wasn't a shadow of a doubt that had it been any other person besides Mary in that lock hold, he would have responded differently. He would have let the scenario play out. Marshall felt a blush of shame rising in his cheeks. What was his father going to say?
"I had to protect you. It's my job. As your keeper." The tight words emerged through a thick throat. Bright sunshine streaming in through the windshield caused him to squint, highlighting the fine lines around his eyes.
Silence ensued again. Mary closed her eyes as painful memories of a dusty diner came to her.
"You're too protective Marshall. Your reaction in there was a personal one, not a professional one. You can't save me from all the hurts, all the insults, all the injustices of the world." Her hand snaked over and grasped his. After a moment, his fingers twitched and encompassed hers.
"You do realize you're probably going to have to undergo a psych eval? That you went all Tarzan on his ass and looked a little crazy?" Marshall sighed, the feel of her fingers warm in his. That was just great. Someone else asking why. Asking what he was feeling. Asking for self analysis. He knew very well the why and wherefore of his actions. Just didn't feel like sharing. Not with anyone.
Things unsaid floated in the sea of emotion between them, never coming close enough to either shore to wash up and be discovered. Visible though from both shores, identifiable when riding on the swell of a wave.
"We good?" Her question was guarded. Marshall looked over at her, the bright shining sun of his universe and gave a small smile.
"We're good." He needed to reassure her.
Mary nodded and tugged on her hand, withdrawing from him and turned to start the car.
"Nice view of your ass, by the way, when you were wrestling with Scalavino." She flashed a cheeky grin as she put the car into gear.