Hello, my friends. It has been a while since I have written any fan fiction so I may be a wee bit rusty. That being said, this is my first IPS story, although I have been a fan of the show since season one.
It is rated T (but there is some course language, imagine that), but there is a possibility of an M rating (we can only hope) in later chapters.
I don't do disclaimers because, come on, nobody is really going to confuse me with anyone that may actually be making money off of any of these kick ass characters and their world.
I do hope you enjoy. Please Review(good or bad), I can take it. And I love suggestions since, although I have a general idea about where the story is going, I enjoy new ideas that might just make it better.
P.S. Please forgive any spelling errors, I do my best, but my spellcheck is being a dumbass. So it's really up to me to catch any misspells. (what the hell did we do before word processors?)
Life is about choices. Some are mundane. Whether we get up the first time our alarm clock goes off. What to eat for breakfast. Whether or not we answer the phone when our parents call. Some are life altering. Where to go to college. Who to marry. Whether or not that AA meeting is really worth the effort or risk falling off the wagon and starting all over. Mundane or life altering, the choices we make define who we are. They are also the consequences that we have to live with.
Mary Shannon
It had started out as a very uneventful day for Mary and Marshall. A couple of surprise visits to new witnesses to make sure they were becoming acclimated to their new identities. Meeting for a long lunch with Abigail with Mary suffering through the giggles and inside jokes that only those in a new relationship could possible stomach. And a brief stop at the ATM to get some cash for Jinx for a deposit on a new car, which Peter had given her an unheard of deal. All in all, not a bad day, until...
"Mary," She glanced up from her own paperwork to eye Stan as he hurried from his office into the bullpen.
She looked over the piece of paper that he tossed on her desk. "Shit!"
"What's up?" Marshall gave his full attention from across the room.
Mary was already on her feet and pocketing her ID. "Will Tucker has been arrested." She reached in her drawer for her glock.
Marshall made it to her side in three long strides, taking the paper from her. "Again? What is it this time?"
"Boosting a watch from a department store." Stan provided.
Marshall gave an incredulous look to Mary, who scowled. "That's what you get when you let a fucking cleptomaniac into the program."
"You want me to go with you?" Marshall asked.
Stan answered for her. "Go pick up his sister. We need a complete threat assessment."
"Screw that," Mary growled. "That asshole is out this time." She turned on her heel and marched to the doors nearly pulling them off the hinges as she flung them open.
Marshall shook his head and looked at Stan. "I think he needs to be more afraid of Mary than the mob bosses he testified against."
Two hours later...
"You know, asshole, I was having a fairly descent day before you decided to jack it up for a cheap watch." Mary flung Will Tucker, who was nearly six inches shorter than her into a chair in the meeting room. Marshall was already there with Will's twin sister, Samantha next to him. Stan stood like a sentinel by the door.
"Will!" Samantha squealed as she jumped out of her seat and flung herself at her brother. "Are you okay?"
"Hell no, he's not okay!" Mary barked, as she motioned for the woman to return to her seat. "This is the third time you've been hauled in for theft, Will. Third time! Seriously, for someone who boosted cars for the Langstons for twenty years, you are a shitty thief." She finally took a breath and took the seat next to Samantha. "Now, because we get along so well with the Albequrque PD..." Marshall cleared his throat loudly. "Okay, because Marshall gets along so well with the Albequrque PD, they offer us a little bit of latitude when we ask for favors. But enough is enough."
Will gave Mary his sweetest smile. "Come on, Mary. It was just a little watch. And, like you said, a cheap one at that."
Mary glared at him, and Marshall decided it was time for his input. "You know, Will," he said calmly, "The more times you are busted for anything, the chance of someone in the Langston family finding you increases significantly."
"Not to mention that breaking the law is expressly frowned upon by the government who has footed the bill to keep you and your sister safe." Stan interjected.
"I tried," Will whined. "I really tried, Mary. But you know I can't help myself."
"Yeah, well," Mary flipped through the file in front of her. "Your compulsion is obviously more important than your safety. Or the safety of your sister." Her words hung heavy. Finally Mary had had enough. "You're out of the program, Will. The next time you get busted, you're doing time."
"What?" Will and Samantha cried out at the same time, both jumping to their feet.
"You can't do this, Mary." Samantha pleaded. When she realized that the blond marshal was a lost cause, she turned to Stan, who she knew to be Mary's superior. "Please, don't let her do this. It isn't right." She dropped back into her seat and began sobbing.
Stan stood stoic, his arms crossed firmly in front of him. "I'm backing my marshal on this one. WITSEC has rules for a reason. And I will not have ANYONE risking the safety of MY marshals or their witnesses because he's got sticky fingers."
Will threw his hands up. "Fine. You know what? I don't have to put up with this crap, anyway. I'm outta here." He turned on his heel and marched out of the meeting room, Stan close behind.
Mary took a deep breath and turned back to Samantha. "Samantha, since your brother is now out of WITSEC, we'll have to relocate you somewhere he can't find you."
Samantha sniffed, eyes still watering. "Move me? I...I can't..." She gathered herself suddenly and straightened her back. "If he's out. Then I'm out."
"Samantha," Mary stood to confront the woman, but tried to keep her voice calm. "The men who your brother testified against are still out there, and trust me, they will have no problem using you to get to him. They will kill you and try not to get blood on their shoes."
"And my brother? What about him?"
"He's on his own now." Mary said plainly crossing her arms.
Samantha gathered her purse from her chair, securing it to her shoulder. "No he's not."
"Samantha," Mary began as Samantha moved towards the door, but stopped when Samantha turned to confront her.
"He's all I've got, Mary. Wouldn't you do the same thing for your family?"
Marshall shifted where he stood, and Mary did not have to look at his expression to know what he was thinking. He made no secret of the fact that he detested the way Mary always put herself and her career on the line for her mother and sister. For some reason unknown to him, Mary always assumed responsibility for her family. It was at moments like these that Marshall refused to let Mary be a hypocrite. He would call her on her bull shit should the need arise.
"Your right." Mary said softly. "I would."
Samantha accepted this, nodded silently, and followed her brother into the bull pen where Stan waited.
An hour later, Mary pushed her way into her living room, prepared to crash down on her couch and catch up on the last four episodes of Friday Night Lights that were still taking up space on her DVR. And maybe lose herself for a few hours. She needed to forget the Turners. There was really nothing she could do about their situation. Following the rules of WITSEC was the only way to guarantee everyone's safety.
Instead, she found Brandi and Peter snuggled on her couch, the light from the TV the only illumination in the room. She sighed loudly but kept her mouth shut as she moved to the kitchen, threw her keys on the table, and rummaged through the fridge for a beer. She popped the top and took a long, slow swig.
Content that she could now deal with her sister and her boyfriend without letting her temper off its leash, she moved back into the living room. "I'm sorry, but Peter, don't you have like some huge mansion that the two of you could occupy for your movie nights? Not to mention probably a thousand inch HDTV where you can see every last dimple on Kim Kardashian's ass?"
Peter shifted slightly so that Mary could get a good view of Brandi with her head on his lap. A bright blue wash cloth was splayed accross her forehead and the bathroom trashcan was positioned right next to the couch. Peter shrugged at her. "Flu." He stated simply.
Mary wrinkled her nose as she leaned against the door frame. "What are you watching?"
"Someone Like You." Brandi managed even with her stopped up nose.
This time Mary stuck her tongue out in disgust. "Make sure you Lysol my couch when you're done with it." She pushed herself from the doorway and moved purposefully to the bathroom.
"By the way, Raph called for you." Brandi called from the couch. "He said you left a message for him to call you."
As she gazed at her reflection in the mirror, Mary sighed inwardly before picking up the small glass box on the counter. She opened it and looked at its contents, convincing herself that this was the only way she could get closure, but unsure that the finality of it was truly what she wanted. She could still hear the TV from the living room. She could hear a sappy monologue recited by a teary eyed Ashley Judd:
"You find the real thing. You find a guy who can sit with you at your absolute worst and you're knee deep in kleenex, and your face looks like a punching bag. And you are a complete and total mess, and he can still look at you and tell you that Ray is not the last man that you are ever going to love."
Mary pondered the words only long enough for the nausea to swirl in her stomach. Finally she closed the box, returned it to the counter, and pushed herself away from the sink. "What a load of crap!" she growled and reached over to turn on the shower just before slamming the door shut, effectively shutting out the ridiculous music that signaled that the two main characters had, in fact, found their way to each other and the end of the movie was imminent. They could ride off into the sunset and live happily ever after. Blah, blah, blah...Mary stripped off her clothes and crawled into the sanctuary of the shower.
Six months later...
Mary was rousted unceremoniously from her sound slumber by her phone's shrill beeping on the night stand right beside her head. She had been having a particular stellar dream about Hugh Jackman and George Clooney and was very reluctant to be removed from her compromising position between them. She grunted loudly and shoved her head under her pillow.
"Mary, answer your damn phone!" Even from the living room, her partner's voice broke through the cotton barrier over her ears, pissing her off even more.
"Screw you, Marshall." Was her muffled reply. Finally realizing that the fuzzy memories of hot, sweaty celebrities was all she was going to be left with, she shoved the pillow aside and snatched up her phone, squinting at the small screen as her boss' name blinked at her without remorse. This better be good, Stan. She punched the talk button.
"Yeah."
"Mary, it's Stan."
Mary exhaled deeply mentally counting the times she had reminded Stan that she knew perfectly well who he was before answering the phone. At this particular moment, she was not in the mood to correct his statement of the obvious.
Propping herself on her elbow she awkwardly brush her hair from her face. "What's up, Stan?"
"You need to turn on the TV."
"Stan," she glanced at the clock with the red numbers glaring at her. "It's five-fifteen. What could be so important...?"
"Just do it, Mary!"
The urgency in Stan's voice was enough to prompt her tired muscles into action. With the phone still at her ear, she swung her legs over the edge of the bed and stumbled down the hall into her living room. Not giving a second thought to her partner still snoozing on the couch where he had fallen asleep the night before, she snatched the remote control off the coffee table and turned on the TV.
As the bright screen lit the room Mary was immediately struck by the picture with an annoying, all too perky news journalist chatting on:
"Samantha Turner's body was recovered this morning from Big Bear Lake in the San Barnardino Mountains of California. She was discovered by some local fisherman about an hour ago, right around dawn."
"Jesus Christ." Mary exhaled as she punched Marshall's long legs that were dangling over the arm of the couch. "Hey, Sleeping Beauty. Move your ass over."
Marshall groaned and tried in vain to tuck his legs closer to him. When that didn't work, he sat up, scooting to the edge of couch with his blanket wrapped around his bare chest. He blinked as Mary plopped down beside him, turning up the volume.
"Her body was discovered at dawn when two locals had set off for what they thought would be an uneventful fishing expedition."
"Mary, you still there?"
Mary hadn't realized that Stan was still on the phone. "Yeah, let me call you back." Without waiting for an answer, she hung up.
"The police have given no indication as to whether this was an accidental drowning or if there is foul play involved."
"Damn it!"
A still weary eyed Marshall rubbed a hand through his disheveled hair and down his face. "Did I just hear..."
"Yes," Mary snapped, suddenly irritated that she had allowed him to crash on her couch after falling asleep watching a movie the previous night. She turned off the TV and threw the remote back on the coffee table with a loud thud. "Samantha Turner is dead."
She dropped her head in her hands as Marshall disentangled himself from his blanket, tossed it in a heap next to her and pushed himself from the couch. He knew that she would need time to process the information and that asking her about her state of mind at that particular moment would surely lead down the road to dismemberment. Instead, he made his way to the bathroom.
Mary barely registered the toilet flushing in the bathroom as her brain worked furiously to make sense of the terrible tragedy that was laid out before her. Not Samantha. God damn it! It was her fault. She should have convinced Samantha to stay in the program. She should have pushed harder. She should have made Samantha understand that leaving WITSEC would lead most certainly to her demise. God damn it, Mary! You should have done something, anything!
So engrossed in berating herself was she that she didn't notice Marshall standing behind her until he cleared his throat. She looked up at him, ready to yell at him to get out, that she was in no mood to hear his speech about how she did everything she could and how it wasn't her fault. But she didn't.
There he stood, his hair still mussed, in his wrinkled green t-shirt, waving a cup of coffee at her like a white flag of peace. It struck Mary how often she underestimated her partner. Not on the job. Never on the job. Her lanky, over brain powered partner was certainly a bad ass law man, and she never doubted for a second that he had her back in the field. What she had a tendency to forget, or perhaps didn't want to admit, was that Marshall knew her better than anyone. At times, even better than she knew herself. It was irritating most of the time. But at those moments when he recognized that she didn't need commentary from him, she was glad was there. Just his presence was enough. He would instinctively know when it was time to talk her down off the ledge.
She gave him a small smile in thanks and took the steaming mug from him. Taking a long swig, she glanced up at him again. "When did you make coffee?"
Marshall smiled back at her and resumed his place on the couch, cradling his own cup with both hands. "Probably between the moments you were thinking that it is your fault that she's dead and you should have done something more for her." Raising an eyebrow at him, she nodded in affirmation. "They didn't say how she died?"
She shook her head. They both knew the probability that she had been killed by the Lanston family. It was a little too convenient that only six months after Samantha and her brother had been booted out of WITSEC, she should suddenly turn up dead. Mary sighed audibly. There was nothing they could do about Samantha. Will was another matter. Maybe he was still out there. Maybe she could still save him.
Marshall watched her demeanor change and knew what it meant. She was compartmentalizing. "Mary," his voice held just a hint of reprimand. "There's no reason to believe that this isn't just some random accident. Will might still be perfectly safe where he's is."
Mary chewed her bottom lip while she considered his words. Making up her mind, she quickly drained her cup and jumped to her feet. She looked down expectantly at her partner.
Marshall sighed in resignation before finishing his own coffee and pushing himself to his feet. "Alright. We'll find out what happened to Samantha and then decide what our next step will be. I'll run home and change, and I'll meet you at the office." He stopped and watched her for a moment.
She scowled at him "What? Get going, Doofus!" Mary yanked the coffee cup from his hand and shooed him toward the door.
She shoved him out of the house and leaned heavily against the door. She glanced down at her phone. 6:03. God, it was going to be long day.