Hello again, guys! This is an interesting little idea that came to me based on Mary's interactions with Delia throughout 4x3. After several watches, it seems to me that Delia might actually be growing on Mary despite her expressed irritation. Most of the inspiration for this fic came from the scene in which Mary tells Delia she can hitch back to the office if she doesn't like Mary's driving. Anyway, read, review, enjoy! I own nothing!
Marshall sat going through his paperwork. If there was one thing getting benched was good for, it was that it provided a much needed opportunity to catch up on the extraneous amount of paperwork that Witsec inspectors had to fill out.
As he absently moved his pen across page after page, Marshall's mind wandered to the reason for his predicament. Scalovino, the asshat, just couldn't keep his hands to himself. Marshall, ever the protective keeper of his exotic animal, saw fit to beat the crap out of the man. It had felt like the right thing to do at the time; however, in hindsight, Marshall realized that his actions were unnecessary. Not only that, he mused with a smile, but at this moment there was a real possibility that Mary was strangling Delia and leaving her body in some remote location.
No sooner than the thought had entered his mind, the familiar buzz of the office door signaled his partner's return. He looked up expecting to see two women walk past his desk, but when he only saw Mary, his eyes widened in fear. The possibilities of what she could've done to their newest colleague were endless.
"Mary, where's Delia?" He asked slowly. A part of him was legitimately afraid that she had murdered the poor woman.
"She'll be back." Mary replied with a sly grin as she sat at her desk and began to look at her e-mail.
"When?"
Mary looked up in thought, as if contemplating how long it would take the other woman to get back "Oh, about forty five minutes if she walks, twenty five if she runs, and fifteen if she hitched."
Marshall's lips curled into a broad smile as realization dawned on him "You made her hitch." He stated.
"Damn straight. That's what she gets for complaining about my driving." Mary smirked
"I think you like her." Marshall accused with a teasing tone.
"I do not. You're crazy!" Mary glared back at him "She's the complete opposite of my personality and she couldn't be any perkier if Richard Simmons sprinkled fairy dust on her. What makes you think I like her?" Mary questioned defensively
"Because, you don't tolerate that which you dislike; even when office policy dictates that you should at least make an attempt."
Mary rolled her eyes, not yet looking away from her computer screen. "Is that an observation or a criticism?"
Marshall gave no answer and instead pressed on with is original explanation, "Lately, I notice that you've been tolerating Delia much better than you generally tolerate people with overly sunny dispositions."
Mary scoffed "Yeah, because I don't have to deal with her that much. You're gonna have to do better than that, numbnuts."
Marshall sighed, leaning forward in his chair and folding his hands neatly in front of him " You only pull the hitch trick on people you like. Remember when you made me get out and walk six miles a few years ago?" Marshall smiled fondly with a faraway look adorning his eyes as he reminisced about that day.
Mary snickered, "Yeah, Witness transfer. Philadelphia. 2006. You said I drive like Mr. Magoo in a Nascar race.
"Exactly." Marshall stated "Delia and I, while not the only two to do so, are the only two you've kicked out of your car for insulting your driving. That leads me to believe that either A. Its some kind of Mary Shannon version of a hazing, or B. you did it because you like us and you were showing us who the alpha is."
"Oh, God help me, I think you're right." Mary sighed as Marshall sat back in his chair with a smug smile on his face.
"I wonder if she can surpass my record." Marshall thought out loud, curious as to how this little incident would affect the abnormally sunny woman's mood. "The way you speed it probably took you about fifteen minutes as opposed to the normal 25 where you guys were, and you've been here almost five minutes."
Mary shrugged casually "I guess we know she's walking then."
Several moments of quiet passed between them before Marshall decided to speak up and address something that he sensed was bothering his partner.
"So, how's the wedding planning coming along?" He smirked knowingly. Thus far each of the sisters' attempts to plan had been coordinated from the office with communication via phone and e-mail, and each attempt was foiled by their lovelorn witness or something else work related.
"Oh God." There was a thud as Mary's forehead made contact with the desk.
"She wants my opinion on shoes, Marshall. Shoes." Mary whined helplessly. She was completely at home with guns and violence, but at the first sign of anything remotely feminine, Mary Shannon's confident façade crumbled to uncertainty. Marshall actually found it to be an endearing trait.
"Show me." Marshall spoke, standing up and walking over so that he could see his partner's monitor while she pulled up her e-mail.
"See? What the hell is the difference between these two? They both look the same. I don't see why she can't just go with the more comfortable pair and call it a day." In the middle of her short rant, Mary was oblivious to the fact that Marshall was closely scrutinizing each shoe and was surprised when the comment he gave was not the answer she expected.
"Oh, the crew. A good choice."
"Be honest. How many times have you voluntarily gone clothes or shoe shopping with your mother."
Marshall felt his face turning red with embarrassment as he looked between her and the computer screen while trying to come up with a good come back. After a few awkward moments he decided on "shut up." And retreated back to his desk.
Just after he sat down, the two Marshall's heard the door buzz again. Both of them looked up to see Delia, sweating and disheveled, but still bearing that smile.
"Huh. I'll be damned, I guess she ran." Mary quipped
"Yeah, you couldn't have made me walk on a better day." She said with almost overbearing zeal "I was supposed to go running tonight with my cousin Margeret—she's in the FBI, but I just have way too much paperwork to catch up on."
Mary had only registered about half of what Delia was saying while she sat there rubbing her temples in an attempt to block out that voice. How could anyone be so happy day after God awful day? It just wasn't possible, was it?"
"Hey. Watercooler." Mary said, interrupting whatever nonsensical thing she was currently regaling Marshall with. "Do you always have to look on the bright side?"
Marshall understood what this question really meant. It was Mary's way of questioning the part of life that Delia represented. The part that Mary so consistently spurned because she had had it once and been burned by it. Now, even though she might want happiness underneath all of her BS and tough exterior, he knew she was hesitant to accept its presence in her life.
"What she means to say is that she likes working with you, Delia."
This statement was met with an incredulous 'what the hell' glare from Mary and a high-pitched squeal from Delia as she started to say things that Mary once again tuned out in her disbelief over what Marshall had just done.
"What the hell was that for? Now she's never gonna let me out of her sight." Mary hissed later once the pair of them were on the elevator.
Well, that's it. I hope you like this one as much as I enjoyed writing it. Please R&R!