Pensamiento
By Cortexikid
Chapter 1: Reflection
Disclaimer: In Plain Sight is not mine, if it were, let's just say there would be lots of shirtless Marshall wandering around ;)
A/N: So, this is my very first In Plain Sight fanfic. Just a small two-shot set after the Season 3 finale "A Priest Walks Into a Bar". Hope you enjoy!
"No, Squish, I still have another two days left. You and your crap will just have to wait."
With a roll of her eyes, Mary Shannon snapped her phone shut and threw it on the bed.
"Damn that felt good," she murmured, pulling the damp towel closer to her body. Just as she was about to stand up, she felt strong hands encircle her waist from behind and hot breath against her ear.
"Not as good as you'll feel tonight," a smug voice whispered as teeth nipped at her neck.
She couldn't contain her snort.
"Jesus Faber, ever heard of modesty?"
He laughed into her skin, his breath ticking her neck irritably.
She shrugged him off subtly, taking a step closer to the window and looking out at the spectacular view with an almost inaudible sigh escaping her lips. She had spent the last five days here, in this beautiful place, on vacation for the first time in years. But she wasn't alone. She hadn't been alone for more than a half hour, and it was beginning to piss her off.
"Something wrong, kitten?" the same smug voice asked, the sound of shuffling feet meeting her ears. That sound (along with other things) was beginning to grate on her last nerve. And that damn nickname, well, she warned him about that.
Clenching her jaw, she turned to face him, arms folded tightly across her towel-clad chest.
"Just need a stiff drink. Don't suppose you could be a doll and go to the bar?" she asked, trying in vain to keep her voice as light as possible.
A quick flash of confusion spread across the FBI Agent's face before it conformed into a small smile with a nod of the head.
"Sure. Meet ya down there?"
She almost grimaced at his hopeful tone. Why is he here again?
"Yeah, sure. I'll be down in twenty…"
She turned back to the window, reaching for her comb and running it through her hair, letting the last rays of the setting sun fall upon her face. She didn't turn around until she heard the soft snap of the hotel room door closing. Once she was certain the agent was long gone, she shuffled towards the unmade bed and snatched up her cell-phone.
Her teeth chomped on her button lip as her thumb clicked the button searching for a familiar name on the screen.
Marshall.
Her breathing hitched and sped up without her knowledge and a soft shiver (that was a hell of a lot harder to ignore) crept down her back. She blamed the lack of clothing for that reaction.
It had been over five days into her vacation and she hadn't spoken to anyone (excluding the whiny call from Brandi) since she left Albuquerque and although she knew she was on vacation and not supposed to hear from anyone, there was continuously only one person she wanted to talk to.
Her partner.
Her best friend.
Inspector Marshal Marshall Mann. Just…Marshall. No big deal.
So why is it taking me so long to click the damn button?
The answer to that particular question was something that she hadn't let herself think about the entire time she was in Mexico. It was expunged from her brain and the empty space was graciously filled with alcohol, chocolate and sex for the last five days.
But now it was back.
With a goddamn vengeance.
An intense irritation clawed up her stomach as she shook her head vigorously.
Get a grip Shannon! Don't be that sad, pathetic, woman. Just…call him. It's Marshall for God's sake!
With a stubborn nod of her head and a harsh exhale of breath she clicked the call button and raised the phone to her ear.
It rang.
And rang.
And rang.
Mary's teeth crept out to nip at her lip again, roughly pulling at the skin until it nearly bled.
"You've reached Inspector Marshal Marshall Mann. I'm unable to answer my phone at the moment but if you decide to leave a message I will return your call promptly."
Mary rolled her eyes as her partner's voice met her ear. That stupid message was just like him. So prim and proper. She chose to ignore the unease that had settled in her stomach as she heard the beep.
"Hey, Doofus, just checkin' in. You're probably busy getting your ass kicked at online Scrabble by some eleven year old so I'll make this quick. I'll be back being my sunshine self at the office on Monday. Don't forget to check up on O'Hara for me like a good partner, and give Stan a little hell from me too while you're at it. Oh—and I think I saw one of those birds; you know the black and grey ones with long tails? What are they called again? Damn, I know you told me once. Shocking I forgot some of your verbal diarrhoea huh? Uh, anyway, I'll see you soon okay? Don't stay up all night no matter how much a little girl from India taunts you about your Scrabble ineptitude okay? I don't want you all sleep deprived while you finish my paper work; your chicken scratch is hard enough to read as it is. Okay, bye Doofus…"
Mary clicked the button hurriedly and threw her phone back down on the bed, staring at it as it bounced off her pillow. She didn't like the sound of her own voice as she replayed the voice message in her head. She sounded…off, strained. Not entirely Mary-like and she knew her partner would pick up on it.
"Crap," she murmured, reaching forward, grabbing her tank top, disrobing and pulling it over her head.
She was over-thinking, again. Marshall tended to have that effect on her, especially recently. But there was something else gnawing at her. Marshall didn't ever; in the near eight years she had known him, not answer his phone.
Unless there was something wrong.
No, no. She wasn't going there. There was nothing wrong with Marshall. He was fine, at home in Albuquerque, more than likely doing something childish, just like she thought. She was just being ridiculous. And stalling. Always stalling from what could potentially be an emotional encounter, as was the Mary Shannon way.
She didn't know when the post-sex-bliss wore off but it was well and truly gone now. Maybe it was when she realized that if she and Faber were in a non-sex capacity for more than an hour just…talking…that she found him a little, no, a lot, irritating. Arrogant. Exuding this snaky over-confidence that just rubbed her the wrong way. Whatever it was that caused her to view him in an entirely different light, it had vanished without a trace and now she was left to fix her mask, her façade to try and con an FBI Agent into thinking that she was just as willing as she was five days ago. The sex was good and a fantastic distraction from…regular life but, as Monday drew nearer the discomfort rose in her gut.
It wasn't all her fault however, this she believed with vigour. No, there were extenuating circumstances causing her now fully-fledged unease…and the culprit? Her partner, Marshall Mann, or rather, his words. Very particular words that had haunted her in the dead of the night for the last few days.
"I get that you don't like messy, but maybe messy is what you need. Maybe instead of just anyone you should be looking for…someone. Someone who challenges you, who calls you on your BS and gets in your face and…makes you think…"
Somehow, as she reflected on it, she didn't think Mike Faber was what or whom Marshall had in mind as he told her this. And she sure as hell wouldn't…couldn't let herself think too hard about whom it was that he did have in mind. That whole topic was off the table.
Rolling her eyes and gritting her teeth Mary mentally scolded herself for the direction her thoughts had taken when she was supposed to be relaxing and enjoying her vacation.
"Just…go down to the bar, down some shots and screw Faber one last time, get it out of your system," she mumbled to herself as she finished getting dressed. Except, that was exactly the opposite of what Marshall suggested…and wasn't it Marshall that always knew what was best for her? Wasn't it always Marshall that knew her better than she knew herself?
The answer was yes. Marshall did know best and he truly did know her better than anyone in her life ever did – including her ex-fiancé, her mother, sister, father…
But that was a moot point now. She was here, in Mexico, with Faber, a man, a sexy if irritating man that was up for no stings attached sex…and despite what he partner may think, a cowboy was exactly what she wanted to do right now.
Right?
"Right…" she whispered with a curt nod of her head as she grabbed the room key and her purse off the bedside table. With one last glance to her phone (and ultimately deciding it was best to leave it behind) she stepped out of the hotel room and down towards the bar where her latest sexy conquest awaited her.
And with each step, her heart grew heavy without her knowledge. She put it down to the enchiladas she had for lunch.
"Ah there you are Kitten, you ready for the night of your life?" Mike Faber grinned at her suavely as she reached the bar and took the glass of scotch from him.
Tipping it back she drank its entire contents with one gulp, suppressing a little shudder as the alcohol burned down her throat.
Opening her eyes, she regarded him with a level stare and not for the first time since they began their getaway together, she wished he was another man entirely. A taller, funnier, more knowledgeable man with bright blue eyes and an unfortunate work moniker.
"Sure, Faber, bring it on."
A/N: So, hope you all enjoyed. I'm nervous because this is my first "In Plain Sight" fic (I've only dabbled in Fringe and Covert Affairs fics up until now). Oh and the title means "Reflection" / "Thought" in Spanish. =]
The next (and more than likely last) chapter will be from Marshall's POV and will be a little angsty.
A review would be lovely!
~Cortexikid