Disclaimer: I do not own In Plain Sight, in any way. All comments are the characters, and don't reflect my own thoughts and views. So don't sue, and don't flame :)
Stand and understand
"There are a lot of people that I just don't understand. Like that thirty-nine year old man who held on to a simple piece of blank paper when entering Wit-sec, just because it had his dead wife's touch, or that annoying teenage girl with the purple stripes in her hair whose ringtone for me is some annoying Justin Bieber song… And don't even get me started people I can't stand- that man on the sidewalks who kept staring at me creepily when thirteen year old me walked to school in worn out clothes every morning, that annoying neighbor who'd come over to the house to brag about all the fancy things that she had but we didn't (last heard, my current house is bigger than hers), that annoying kid in the park who'd hit Brandi every day and tell me how our dad was never coming back… "
"How come Marshall gets all the good cases and I get all the bad ones?" Mary's voice rang through the cool air of the small office room, as soon as Stan finished briefing them on the new witness who was about to enter the program. Beside her was seated Marshall, his eyes fixed on the case report and twinkling with a childishly innocent kind of curiosity that only he had. And beside him was the officer from the FBI, dressed in a fancy suit that matched the color of his moustache, which Mary decided was stupid, instantly earning him the nickname.
It was a Wednesday, her happy, happy Hump Day, which hadn't been so happy ever since Delia recommended some weird recipe that her grand-mother had been taught by her grand-mother. Which she didn't even pay attention to anyway, but then Sunshine Barbie made the mistake of adding that it would be good for her and her baby. And it was instant Armageddon. Why didn't some people get her "I don't need your advice" even when she said it straight to their face? Jesus!
She had been grumpy since, and now this new witness. Even the pigeon that lived two blocks away could have guessed how hard Mary would be glaring at her boss and her partner.
Stan was about to answer her, but Marshall beat him to it. "This is a good case, Mary. Think about it. Evil drug lord goes to visit a psychic, she tells him his life is in danger, and he gets killed on his way home, right in front of her eyes."
Contrary to Marshall's words, she didn't need to think, her response was automatic. "What kind of drug lord goes to see a psychic? No wonder he got killed." Mary snarled, twirling her pen in her fingers and occasionally tapping it on the glass desk, impatiently waiting to get out of the room and hopefully out of the case. She tilted her head to a side to eye Marshall curiously. Sometimes she, for the love of her lemon and tequila, just couldn't understand him. How could he always be so patient? On her part, the frown hadn't left her face ever since she had heard the word psychic. Her mother saw a lot of psychics after their father left; one of the psychics told them that Mary was going to run away with a thirteen year old girl when she was sixteen, and charged two hundred dollars for the insanely inaccurate and bizarre prediction, money that could have otherwise been used to buy some toys for Brandi, money that would have otherwise been used on her mother's liquor. She had never been a fan of psychics since.
And then it hit her suddenly. "Oh my God, Marshall! Don't tell me you actually believe in this psychic bullshit! Tell me you think this psychic really knew he was going to die!" she sputtered the word psychic with such an intense distaste, like the word itself tasted bad.
Marshall shrugged, the diplomatic, defensive words forming in his head, even though he knew it very well that Mary would still tease him about it, he had realized it a second too late, after the words had already slipped out of his mouth. She was like a dog with a bone- once you slipped a tiny bit of a fact that she found worthy of mocking, there was no end to it. He cleared his throat, and began slowly. "It may be the truth, it may be a coincidence. We can't prove or disprove it. We don't need to either. We just need to protect her, that's all."
Mary decided to save all her witty little insults for later- Marshall wasn't going anywhere anyway- and didn't waste a second firing her next weapon. "Stan, if Marshall likes this case so much, why can't he have it?" It would have sounded like a desperate plea, only, this was Mary, and it came out just short of a demanding accusation.
She only half listened to the reasons Stan stated, grumbling lowly about how unfair this whole thing was. "Why is she even a witness in this case? She's a psychic. What if she starts to talk about how she predicted the grand murder, and the judge doesn't believe anything she has to say about witnessing the actual murder?"
"That is not your concern, Inspector", Mary's 'guy in the fancy suit with a stupid moustache' reminded her. "We will take care of the details of the case; you only need to deal with protecting the witness."
"Fine", Mary closed the files with a small thud, dropped the pen, and raised her hands in the air in an 'I give up' gesture. "I'll protect the psychic. Why does she even need WITSEC? Can't she predict what's in her own future and whether or not she will be killed? God, you people can be so dense sometimes. Just sit and watch this case blow in your face." She stood up with a huff, and picked up the papers from the table. "I'm going to check on Sabrina. I'll pick your psychic up from the airport at 8. Come on, Marshall."
Marshall closed his eyes and cringed. He knew the car ride was going to be oh-so-pleasant.
In the car
"Do you believe in Dragons?"
The sigh that heaved through his chest seemed to hurt his ribs. That was the eleventh question she had asked in a row, and he knew what exactly she was getting at. But the slow build up was only making it worse. "No."
She bit on her lips and nodded, like she was listening intently to him and thinking very deeply about something. "Ok. What about Pegasus?"
He would take a bullet for her any day, but he just couldn't take this. "Mary, just get to it, please." He pleaded in an exasperated tone. The anticipation was torture, one he had gone through way too many times to learn to detest. Time made some things easy, but years with her only made her teasing worse.
She half-shrugged. "Hey, I'm just asking because I'm thinking of producing a children's movie. You can be the writer-director, Brandi can be the goody-two-shoes fairy, and we can hire Pam Anderson to play the mermaid."
He gave her a look of bewildered amusement, his eyes asking a silent 'where did that come from'? He always wondered how she come up with these replies so fast. "Look, I never said I believe in psychics."
"You never said you didn't." she promptly pointed out.
He ran a hand through this hair. "There are a lot of things in this universe that are beyond our grasp, Mare. I choose to keep an open mind about these possibilities."
"Marshall, come on, you are an US Marshall", she scolded. Sometimes it scared Marshall to let her drive when she was like this. "You seriously believe that a person can look into a crystal ball and tell you what's gonna happen to you? Then wouldn't everybody have a psychic and know just what to do next?"
Marshall was about to open his mouth to make up a reply, when Mary's phone rang. She took it out of her pocket and smiled. "Hey, maybe your psychic can tell me when Brandi is going to call, so I can throw my phone out of the window before that… Yes, Brandi, I got your text…."
A few hours later…
It would be a lie to say she wasn't disappointed. The psychic looked… normal. She was dressed in a denim jeans and a t-shirt with floral prints, with her short blond hair tied in a neat pony-tail. There were no robes, no weird jewels, nothing. Now Mary had one less thing to make fun of, great!
"Hello, I'm Mary; I'll be your Inspector." Mary extended her hand out for a curt shake.
The psychic took her hand and smiled, "I'm Liz. It's nice to meet you."
"Come on, Liz, we better get going", Mary flashed a brief cheeky smile, before directing her towards the car. "Marshall's going to drive today, I'm going to sit back and listen to all your little psychic stories."
"Mary," Marshall warned. She didn't need to antagonize new people immediately, did she? They'd eventually learn to dread her anyway.
Mary ignored him completely, like she always did, and opened the back door for Liz, and decided to ride shotgun. Marshall got into the driver's seat, wishing he could fall asleep on the wheel and drive them into a tree.
It wasn't even two minutes before Mary began. "So, do your little hocus-focus, tell me, where am I going to make you stay?"
Liz only smiled. "It doesn't work like that. I don't know every little detail."
Mary faked a gasp, reaching out to hit Marshall on the arms. "Did you hear that, Marshall? She doesn't know everything."
This is awkward. Marshall thought in his mind. He wanted to point out how rude she was being, but he was pretty sure that she already knew and didn't care. He decided to do what he did best- have her back, and tried to change the subject. "Stop hitting me like that. Someday I may have to file a complaint against you."
That only earned him one more hit. "Ooh, goodie. And when I'm benched I'll beat you up, take a picture and send it to all your ex-boyfriends." She turned around to get a better look at Liz. "Does that happen in the future, Liz?"
Liz bit her lip. "Don't take this the wrong way, Mary, but you seem to have a very… negative aura."
"Doesn't take a psychic to tell that." Mary retorted.
Marshall snickered, she was right about that.
"You want me to tell you something about the future?" Liz asked patiently.
Mary mocked a look of enthusiasm. "Yes, please, I've been dying to know. I just can't afford a psychic session. The pay is so less in our job. I'm barely scraping by, selling cookies at Church on Sundays."
Marshall decided to intervene- again- before things spun out of control. "I would like to know something about my future, please. I've always… wanted to… explore the… uh, science of psychics."
"Science?" Mary shook her head. There was no hope for him. This was worse than origami and obsession for blue-rays.
"I will tell you both", Liz decided. "I see that in the future, you two are going to get married, move to New York, and have a very healthy baby."
Marshall was so shocked; he thought he was actually going to run the car into a tree. He wasn't expecting this, if he had the slightest hint, of course he wouldn't have asked. He glanced to get a good look at Mary, only to see her staring at Liz with wide eyes and a half-open mouth. Uh oh. Here it came. Three, Two…
"Me? Married?" Mary sputtered, blinking her eyes. She wondered if she was dreaming, she kind of wished she was, because, could she really be hearing this? "I'm going to get married? To Marshall? Wow." She scoffed. The way she said his name made him cringe. "This has been my dream all life. I've always wanted to marry a guy who played online chess, and quoted Shakespeare every other minute. Maybe we can have a Hamlet theme-"
"-Hamlet is a tragedy, Mary, I don't-"
"-I can wear a pink flowing dress with a tiara made of rose, and we can make origami for decorations, and play soft soothing music, like Nirvana."
Liz looked like she was tethering on the edge of confused and lost and passing out, so Marshall decided to confirm. "Yes, she is being sarcastic. Mary and I… we're good friends. We're not dating."
"Really? But you guys banter so much, you seem like a couple." Liz asked, surprised, her eyes subtly pointed towards Mary's belly.
Mary groaned. She was so tired of people subtly hinting at her belly. If only she had a nickel for every time! "Yeah, that's not his. And it was an accident." Another groan involuntarily escaped her lips when her phone rang, again, and she silenced it with one hard pressing of her thumb. "I do not like to discuss my personal life with a witness, so shut up, all of you, and by the way Liz, I am never moving to New York, Albuquerque is an amazing city once you get used to the stupid chilly in every single dish and annoying kites, and the last thing I had in mind was a baby, so just shut up." Once she was finished, she realized how she didn't rant about not marrying Marshall in a million years. "And by the wayI have zero intentions of marrying a Mann who isn't really a man... Love, family, all these things, I just don't get it, ok?"
Liz smiled sympathetically. God, that look of sympathy was so annoying! "Maybe now you don't, but someday you will. I can see it."
Mary smiled, with a devilish kind of sweetness in her face. "Sure, and I can see… bats flying around wearing bikinis. Or, or elephants dancing in a puddle of… chocolate."
"Actually-"
"-Or Marshall shutting up about things nobody cares about." She finished, with a pointed glare directed at him that told him that if he said any more words, they might as well be his last.
He was smart enough to know better, and God she loved the silence.
Few days later…
"Someday, I'm going to steal your cell phone, call your dad, and tell him that his future daughter-in-law is going to take him to a spa every other week. The man deserves to know what he's headed for."
Marshall blinked. Here they were, at the Witness' new apartment, making sure she was settled in properly and had no trouble. Mary had been slurping on some smoothie in between taking bites off her apple, in the same way that a tigress gnaws at flesh, he would have told her if he didn't know that would earn him a thousand insults, and now she was taking potshot at Abigail, all of a sudden.
"Oh", was the first thing he could get out, and he knew how she loved to see him this puzzled. "Where did that come from?"
She shrugged. "Pregnancy hormones?"
He rolled his eyes. "Mary, come on."
She shrugged again, throwing the apple at the bin from five feet away, God she loved the Marshal training. "She offered me to come along with her this weekend for a spa. Me, of all people. Me? Are you sure you don't need to take her to a shrink?"
"Is it so wrong if my girlfriend tries to be friendly with my best friend?" Marshall shot back.
"Yes." She didn't miss a beat before answering. "I don't do friendships, Marshall, especially with pretty little girls like her. I really hope you keep her out of my way in future, just so, you know, I don't accidentally remember that one time at the coffee shop when that waitress-"
"-Okay", he cut her off, mentally groaning at being reminded of that incident. Sometimes he hated how much time they spent together, and how much she knew about him. And sometimes he hated how little time they were spending these days, ever since he started dating Abigail. He wanted to be there for her, more than he was being, now that she was pregnant, and was making such a hard decision to opt for adoption, all by herself. It wouldn't be such a terrible idea if Abigail made friends with Mary. They could have hung out together, the three of them. But clearly, that wasn't happening. He sighed, shaking himself out of his thoughts. "I'll tell her to remember it's you."
"Thank you!" she flashed him a smile, and shoved the glass of smoothie at this face. "I'm full, you want some?"
"Eh", he made a face, "not really."
"Ok, then." She threw the paper glass at the bin from a distance, again. And another hit! She was on fire!
She was about to remark on her incredible ability to hit a target, but was interrupted by Liz.
"I just had a vision."
Marshall's eyes drifted to his feet, suddenly his shoes looked like the most interesting thing in the room.
Mary's hands fell to her hips. "Really? Funny, I had one too. One where I was getting the hell out of here and Marshall was attending to whatever your crystal ball said you need."
"You aren't carrying your crystal ball, right?" Marshall asked promptly.
"No," Liz shook her head for emphasis. "I had a vision, just like that. Look, I can't explain to you how it works. You need to be carefully Mary. Something bad is going to happen to you soon."
Mary scoffed, petting her belly. "I don't think it can possibly get any worse. So why don't you just tell us if you need anything so we can be on our way?"
Liz shook her head again. "No, I'm fine, thank you. But you be careful, Mary, please."
She scoffed, again, and motioned at Marshall to follow her out the door.
Two more minutes of repeating the instructions later, they were in his car, and she was reluctantly reading the text from Brandy.
"Ugh, I need to buy some stuff for Brandy. Can you drop me at the grocery store?"
He nodded as he started the car. "Let me come with you, I… need to buy a few stuff."
"What? Condoms? Aww, little boy is growing up", she mocked, ruffling his hair just the way she knew he hated.
He whined, ducking her hand, and started the engine. "So, the one that's three blocks away? Where do you want to grab dinner?"
She sighed. "Really? You're listening to the Blonde now?"
Marshall gave her a look of disapproval.
"What? I'm blond, I'm allowed!" she rolled her eyes. "God, Marshall, please! I'll be ok! Don't listen to Nostradamus!"
"I know", he gave her a soft smile. "But I will drop you home today. No, Mare, no buts."
She crossed her arms across her chest and huffed. She just couldn't stand him sometimes. Most of the times. All times. Ugh, Jesus!
At the grocery store …
"So that looks good. I'll take it" Mary reached forward to grab the first box she came across from the racks, but Marshall slapped her hand away lightly.
"Mary, you don't judge a box by its looks," he scolded, smiling to himself at his clever play of words- and because Mary, for once, didn't mock him for it.
She groaned, this wasn't what she had in mind when she signed up for Witsec. Yeah, she always knew she'd have to deal with Captain I-can't-keep-my-mouth-shut, but, ugh, she was just so annoyed. She leaned against the racks lazily, wishing she could fall asleep and shut out his words.
And then it happened quickly. A sudden noise, and the next thing they knew, tens of boxes were falling down on her.
Their Marshal training kicked in soon, Mary swiftly moved away before the boxes could hurt her, while Marshall caught three boxes in his hands. If it wasn't so sudden, and her heart wasn't pounding so uncontrollably from the shock, and her hand hadn't instinctively drifted to her belly with all her protective feelings surging to their peaks, this would have been comical, a precious YouTube comment- Marshall in the middle of a grocery store, looking like a rodeo juggler.
She let out the breath that she didn't realize that she was holding back, and bit her lip. Now that she thought about it, leaning against the racks wasn't such a good idea. How could she be so stupid? Why wasn't she thinking? Had to be the pregnancy, she told herself, adding a mental nod.
"Hey, are you okay?"
Marshall's words caught her attention, and for the first time she realized that some people had stopped to stare. "I'm ok. Move along", she waved to them, managing to force a small smile on her face, and wondering if she looked like a complete idiot.
Marshall eyed her for a few more seconds, before deciding that she really was alright. He placed the boxes in his hand back on the rack- so neatly that it made her groan- before bending down to collect the ones that had fallen to the floor.
Mary was getting ready to help, but then remembered that her belly wouldn't allow her to bend. "Damn", she muttered, annoyed, watching Marshall do what he did best- have her back. "They are not gonna make us pay for this, right?"
He rolled his eyes, ignoring her question. With that attitude, they probably would, but with his polite apologies and smiles, and because nothing broke, they would get away. "So."
"So?" she snorted.
"Do you want me to actually say it?"
"What! That could have happened to anyone anywhere anytime!" she protested, in the typical Mary-versus-Marshall voice that she had somehow adopted in all these years. "It's just cereal boxes, not knives, or… anacondas or something. Relax, superman."
An hour later, at home
"See, the world didn't end." Mary chirped, as soon as they reached her house. She grabbed her bag of Chinese, and jumped out of the car and away from him as fast as she could, fumbling with her key to unlock her door. "Do you wanna come on in and have a drink or something?"
He thought for a moment. This was a good chance of finally having a nice talk with her, about the baby. "Sure", he grabbed his bag too, knowing very well that drinks would turn to dinner, like they used to, before Abigail. Oh well, just for the sake of good old days.
Mary set down a bottle of beer on the table, not bothering with glasses- it's just Marshall- and took a big chug from hers. "So, what do you wanna talk about? What's new? Surely not that haircut, it's been there since the 70s".
Marshall ran a hand through his hair subconsciously while he dug his chop-sticks into his food. He ignored her little taunt, and began animatedly. "Did you know that the right way of holding a chop-stick is-"
"-Yeah, grandpa, you told me a hundred times before", she cut him off impatiently.
"But you never listened." He pointed out.
"I'm smart like that."
"Ha-ha-ha."
It was quiet for a while, as they munched on their food, and even when it was finished, there was still a kind of comfortable silence that only they had with each other. This was blissful. But he decided he had to bring it up, sooner or later. "So… what's new with you? Any progress with the adoption?"
She simply shook her head.
He sighed. "Mary, I know you're not sure about it. You don't need to lie to me. We can talk about this."
She only nodded. He kept quiet, giving her time to gather her thoughts and get ready to speak. He watched her breath quicken, and decided to sit down beside her, with his hand on her back. "I can understand how difficult this must be."
She snorted, still trying to put up her snarky face. "Really? Did you knock her up?"
He rolled his eyes. She wasn't getting away, not today. "You need to talk to somebody, Mary. You can't do it all alone. You can't fight everybody everywhere all the time. You don't need to. I'm here for you."
She turned around to look at him, their eyes met, and all that cliché romance movie stuff, and the next thing she knew, their noses were bumping, and their lips were just inches apart, and he was leaning in. Her heart was pounding fast, and not in a bad way, and she loved how his Adam's apple moved as he swallowed.
And then it ended as quickly as it had happened. He backed up and got up, hurriedly, awkwardly, and glanced at his watch. "I, uh, need to go now. It's getting late."
She nodded, taking in a deep breath and getting up. Her brain screamed at her to act normal and not wreck up her relationship with the only best friend she ever had. "Ok, well, you owe me five dollars from today, so pay me back tomorrow?"
Lucky for him, he could read Mary like a book, and he caught up to it, a little disappointed that the moment he had always been waiting for happened now, while he had a girlfriend and couldn't do this, but mostly relieved that she wasn't furious and he wouldn't lose her. "You owe me ten dollars from last week."
"I do not! I told you I won't pay you back, I didn't borrow it, Marshall, I took it, as a compensation for tolerating you all day. Now get out."
"You have a good night too." He greeted, stepping out of the door, wondering one last time if he should bring up what just happened to clear the air, but decided to leave it like that. "Call me if you need anything."
She snorted. "So you're WalMart now? Good for you. See you tomorrow."
The door shut, and her world began to spin. Okay.
So maybe this was the perfect point to admit that, yes, Liz was right, and this was the bad thing that was supposed to happen to her, and just blame psychics and all the stupid forces of the Universe that she never believed in and never would, and pretend to forget it and never ever talk about this again.
But then, that would mean admitting that she was right about the rest too- getting married and moving to New York and raising kids, and all that crap, which by the way, she never wanted, ever.
God, how bad was this! Her best friend, of so many years, who had a steady girlfriend, was almost about to kiss her! Of all the stupid, annoying things that he could have done!
But then again, this was Marshall. He'd hunted down for her when she was abducted, attacked a Marshal training and got benched for her. He was always there for her. Always. Always.
Jesus, how could she have not known it before? Wow. Such blatant things can be oh so skillfully hidden in plain sight!
(And more blatant things can be hidden oh so skillfully in her heart, but sshh.)
"I know that a lot of people can't stand me, at all- all the Cinderellas in my High School who hated how I didn't care that I didn't have fancy dresses like them, or the bartender who doesn't like how I never have loose change. And, gosh are there a lot of people who can't understand me-, or what? My grocery store guy, the cashier at the super-market, that geeky guy I met at a colleagues wedding, I can't even finish the list… But there is only one person who can always, always stand me, and understand me. Marshall."
A/N: Hope you liked it, PLEASE REVIEW! Thanks for taking your time to read this :)