Author's Note: Good afternoon, everyone. I'm still working on the update to Entangled but my muses have been hijacked by Kate/Ben Fairly Legal awesomeness so the GEAH will happen. Just not now. The title is part of a line that I came up with in Messy (the original Season 3 fix it fic where I patented the rage comic A/N…LOL!) and I figured it would be appropriate for this installment. This one's a little steamier than the last two (I'm probably gonna do a more explicit 4th story in this new series…) and Faber will make a very brief appearance. Enjoy.

Disclaimer: "Honestly, it's not mine!"

Excerpt from Hungover Yet Honest

"Mary, you've already locked in 6 weeks vacation time. Should I do the same for you, Marshall?"

"Can you and Charlie handle both of our loads?"

"We'll make do. Look, I'll make it an order if have to. You two have been messed up for too damned long and now that you're really talking again, I don't want to screw up your drunken momentum thing…or whatever the hell you call yourselves doing now. No, don't tell me! I don't want to know! Plausible deniability and all that good shit… just come back to work relaxed and with it fixed…"

…one thing he had always appreciated about her was that once she decided on a course of action, she went for it with both barrels. Maybe, just maybe, they could work things out without drawing blood or more yelling. He hated yelling. Always had but…

…she still thought Marshall deserved better than her. She was sure that she'd always think that but the bitch of it was that he just wanted her. He really didn't want better…

…and like she had in that dark, dusty diner, she had pressed a kiss to his cheek.

And opening her eyes again, she tilted her head up and did the same thing. Marshall's arm stiffened and she did it again, lingering longer. His sky blue eyes bored into hers and she looked back, fighting against her walls and the urge to run away again. Slowly, he leaned in and she met him halfway, kissing him for real. Mary had always laughed when she glanced at one of Squish's candy floss books, seeing lines like "…her heart skipped a beat" or "…his lips felt like pure, silky fire" but she wasn't laughing now…

…Both of them knew that it was Faber. Stan had promised that he wouldn't call unless the office was ablaze and her family knew that she was okay, now. In fact, as soon as Stan said that she was with Marshall, Jinx and Brandi had started pushing her to go on a "real" vacation again…

"Are you gonna answer that?"

"It's no one worth talking to."

…maybe a real vacation with Marshall wouldn't be such a bad idea, after all…

Mary Shannon put the empty bucket in the ice machine slot and fished a couple of bucks out of her makeshift nightgown. It was actually a plum purple Egyptian cotton flat sheet and with a little creativity from her college days (and Marshall Mann's nimble fingers…god, his fingers…), it had become a modestly sexy, ankle length shift. Her blonde hair was a complete tangled mess, wild and slightly frizzed in the humidity. Her lips were swollen to twice their size, deep pink and her verdant gaze was heavily lidded in the sleepy, early morning contentment that only an extended bout of (earth shattering, mind twisting, body rocking, a-fuckin'-mazing) good sex could prompt.

Vacationing by herself in Albuquerque while dodging phone calls from an FBI asshole? Sucked. Vacationing with Marshall Mann in a quiet little resort town near the Yucatan? Best. Shit. Ever. Hands down and not just because of the sex.

She was trying really hard to make it work, whatever it was that was going on between them now. There wasn't an official label (yet) but Mary knew that it was something real and something scary. Not enough to make her run but enough for her to pay attention. She'd been doing that lately, paying attention to Marshall and all the emotions he provoked…

Their drunken honesty in the desert 2 weeks before and the day they spent recovering had been the kick in the ass she had so desperately needed. She wanted to be happy. She deserved to be happy. James Wiley Shannon's abandonment and her rough childhood didn't make her unworthy of love. She wasn't incapable of love, she just wasn't experienced in it. She certainly didn't need to find a standard man with a standard idea of what happiness was. She needed an unusual yet strong man who was ready and willing to help her make her own brand of happy normality.

Simply put: she needed Marshall Jeremiah Mann and best of all, he needed her just as much and just the way she was…

"Fancy meeting you here, Kitten."

Mary frowned and watched as Mike Faber leaned against a vending machine. He was in some godawful floral print Hawaiian shorts and his white shirt was unbuttoned, showing a halfway decent body. She still felt a little ill at the fact that she had considered fucking him. It would've been some decent, Cowboy like hate sex but it would've been poison for her emotionally. Not to mention how it would've affected Marshall if and when he found out. Looking back, she could equate all the times that she had told him about her dalliances to being shot in the gut again or just a swift, stiletto kick to the nads and the heart.

She really didn't want to do that to him again. At least not on purpose, anyway…

"Can't say the same to you, Faber." she deadpanned while putting some bottles of water into the half full bucket to chill.

"I bet. So…is there a toga party going on or did you get all dressed up for me?" he asked with an oozingly charming grin.

"I didn't even know you were here and I'm dressed up for Marshall, who is waiting for me in our suite. With no clothes on so if you could speed this up a little, I'd appreciate it. Wasting his morning wood's the eighth deadly sin, you know."

The smarmy man lost his grin but still managed to look smug, making Mary roll her eyes.

"Oh…well, that's…completely unsurprising. A little unoriginal, though. Partners falling for each other?"

"Unoriginal but the best damned thing that's ever happened to me."

"And me."

Apparently, there was another door to the area because Marshall was standing in the doorway. He was very shirtless, showing off the various love marks she had left on him and she smirked at the sight of his now infamous airplane pajama pants.

"I thought stealing anything chocolate from you was the 8th deadly sin."

"It used to be until you pressed me up against a wall and…"

"…it wasn't a wall. It was the couch." he cut off wryly.

"It was both. Well, you found me. What are you gonna do to…with me?" she "accidentally" let slip.

"Nothing that requires an audience. Nice seeing you again, Faber." Marshall called politely as he led her out the door.

As soon as they got past the large potted plant, Marshall pressed her against a wall and kissed her fiercely. Mary dropped the ice bucket (not spilling a thing) and buried her hands in his hair, standing up on her tiptoes to get closer. It wasn't really necessary. After all, she was 5'9 but it felt right to do so. She was lousy with words but good with actions. Working to get herself as close to him as possible was a blatant way of saying, "Hey…I care…I really, really care…" Opening their suite door (it was only 5 doors down), they locked it behind them and stumbled back to bed, entwined. She slid his pants off and he unwrapped her like a present, the pleased gleam in his eye still making her shiver.

Only Marshall could balance lust and love that well when it came to her.

"Mmm…you're lovekissed…" he murmured, his hands fondly caressing her curves as she slowly writhed underneath him.

"What?"

"Lovekissed. It's like sunkissed, only better because it goes beyond the skin. It means you're happy and at peace."

She moaned as he nuzzled deep into her throat, kissing and nipping at the skin there. Lovekissed? Huh. It kinda sounded like a lotion from Bath and Body Works or even a song from the latest annoying pop diva but…well, the definition fit her state of being perfectly.

Mary Shannon was happy.

Mary Shannon was at peace.