Can the development of a relationship be followed through a kiss? Oh, I think so. Many thanks to RJ Lupins Kat for providing the inspiration that drew this all together and to Bujyo for her wonderful editing and encouragement !

A Kiss is just a Kiss

kiss v. to touch with the lips as a sign of affection, greeting, etc. -n. a touching with the lips.

affection n. a tender feeling towards another, fondness.

Chapter 1 – A Kiss between Friends

Passing street lights illuminated the interior of the GMC, highlighting the impassive profile of Mary Shannon, before sliding across the dashboard to outline the chiseled jaw of Marshall Mann. The deserted streets made a lonely backdrop for their silent passage through the outer suburbs of Albuquerque. Small, tidy homes flashed by, their darkened windows silent testament to occupants snugly tucked in their beds. Mary wished she was in her bed. She was ready for this day to be done.

Marshall ventured another worried glance over at his silent partner. The trip back from Denver had been uncomfortable. Mary was withdrawn, her newly single status weighing on both of them, though for different reasons. Agent Mike Faber's unwelcome interest in Mary weighed on Marshall as well, she acknowledged. Mary couldn't bear to think about the FBI agent right now, but she had noted how stiff Marshall became whenever the man showed up. Poor guy had even had to tell her Faber had been hitting on her. A possessive Marshall would just irritate her right now. She was glad to be home.

Mary glanced up and caught him looking once again at her empty ring finger. She could sense his concern. She had found herself rubbing that bare finger several times during the day and she knew Marshall had caught her doing it at least once.

Her mouth compressed into a half scowl. The symbol of commitment, of the pledge to give oneself to another. The sparkling stone that said 'I promise to love you forever'. What did it say about herself that she couldn't meet that commitment, that she couldn't make that promise? Her finger started its absent rubbing again. She had never felt comfortable wearing Raph's ring, but now she missed the awkward weight of it; she missed the feeling she got when people saw that ring and knew she was spoken for, that she belonged to someone. That someone loved her.

Mary rested her head against the cool glass of the window, wishing the ache inside her would go away. The prospect of facing her empty home was oppressive, like a blanket of fog. She didn't want to face the loneliness that house now represented. Scene of her failure. Venturing a quick glance at Marshall, she wondered if he ever felt lonely, going home to an empty house every night.

She turned that thought over in her mind. What did Marshall do with himself when he left the office? There were classes he took of course, and he had an eclectic interest in history, art, music, sports. Badminton, seriously did anyone over the age of ten play that? Still, there had to be that moment when he unlocked the door to a dark, silent home. That moment that he thought 'there should be someone here, waiting for me'. She gave a slight shake of her head to try and stop that train of thought. It was somehow painful to think of Marshall like that; alone.

Her worried partner pulled into the parking lot of the Sunshine Building and cut the engine. Mary felt his gaze on her again. She closed her eyes. She didn't want his sympathy. She didn't want his pity. Quickly opening the door, she jumped out and grabbed her bag from the back seat.

Mumbling good night as she turned to make her way to her car, she was startled to find Marshall right behind her when she reached her sad looking Probe. She was defensive as she turned around to confront him.

"Not now Marshall. I can't deal with your pity right now." The words were sharp, prickly. The walls were up and the 'do not touch' signs posted. She absolutely could not let him see how devastated she was by the failure of her engagement.

"I'm not offering pity. I'm offering friendship." His voice was low, steady. He hesitantly put his hand on her arm. "I'll listen if you want to talk. I'll talk if you want to forget. I'll bury you under an avalanche of trivia. Tell me what you need. I'll give it to you." Blue eyes watched her anxiously.

She fidgeted, unwilling to risk hurting him by lashing out as she wanted to. None of this was his fault. "I don't know what I need Marshall," she sighed. "I just want to go home right now." She tried to muster up a smile. "But thanks."

He placed a hand on her shoulder and leaning down, brushed his lips in a feather light kiss on her cheek.

"Call me if you need to." His hand tightened on her shoulder as she stared wordlessly up at him, then grunted an okay. Watching her partner stride back to the GMC, Mary brought her hand up and touched her cheek, still tingling from his light touch.

Mary Shannon stretched forward and placed her empty Shiner Bock on the coffee table. Glancing at the wall clock, she stood up and stretched her back, rolling her head in a circle trying to relieve some of her stiff muscles. She was glad the day was over, both of their witnesses tucked away, one way or another. Looking down at Marshall's relaxed form, his long limbs forming a bridge from the couch to the coffee table, she smiled. Bumping his legs with her knee, she nodded towards the door.

"I'm heading home. You going to be okay?" The day's events had been emotionally draining. Marshall was taking Lois' decision to leave WitSec as a personal failure on his part. Mary had spent the evening trying to get him to see that Lois had never been happy in WitSec and that leaving was the first proactive action she had taken in six years.

Marshall swung his legs down and stood up, following Mary down the short hallway to the front door. She paused with her hand on the doorknob, glancing back over her shoulder. She took in his sad puppy dog face and turned back, placing a light hand on his arm.

"I'm all right, just disappointed, worried. I feel I've failed Lois." He chewed on his lower lip, a nervous habit that rarely made an appearance. "What if something happens to her? I'll feel responsible." Vibrant blue eyes looked down at her, begging, for what? Absolution, reassurance, forgiveness? Or just understanding maybe.

Mary bit back the impatient words that came to mind. They had already been over this, but he was in distress and as his best friend, she owed him better than harsh words. As Frank had said, people had gotten so rude. She knew she was guilty of that and Marshall deserved more from her.

"Marshall, you did everything you could. You gave her everything you could as her inspector and I think you gave her a part of yourself personally too. There was nothing else you could do. It was her decision and you are not responsible." Her light grasp on his arm tightened slightly, the cotton of his shirt smoothing under her fingers.

Mary searched her partner's face, the sadness she saw there feeling like small pinpricks in her heart. She felt an overwhelming urge to comfort him. The emotion was a new one for her, certainly in relation to Marshall at any rate. He had been incredibly supportive of her since her break-up with Raph. His numerous small gestures underlined his compassion, his friendship for her. A cup of coffee deposited on her desk in the morning. A new box of staples set unobtrusively in her middle drawer, where she kept her office supplies. A completed threat assessment for a witness visit that was moved up on the schedule, filled out in his neat block printing, placed carefully in her inbox.

He was such a good man and she didn't want him placing blame on himself for Lois' choice. If anyone deserved the blame, it was her. Mary had given up extending herself to Lois years ago. She ran her hand up his arm and pulled him into a loose embrace.

"Don't you dare blame yourself Marshall." The words were soft, low, spoken in his ear, her breath warm against his skin. His arms hesitantly came around her waist and he rested his head against hers. After several minutes Mary pulled back and peered into his face. The sadness was still in his eyes. Reaching a gentle hand up to stroke his face, she saw surprise, then pleasure, then something deeper sparking in those blue orbs.

"Marshall," she whispered, her gaze sliding around the familiar features of his face, the urge to make him happy increasing, the urge to erase that sad expression. Rising up on her toes, she placed a soft kiss on his lips, then settled back on her feet. Marshall's hands tightened around her waist as surprise widened his eyes. Mary reached up a second time and kissed him again, this time lingering longer, exploring the shape of his lips, her hands contracting around his shoulders. Marshall's reaction was swifter this time, as he kissed back, gentle, soft, slightly wary, oh so careful not to cross that line, even as he felt her lips yield.

Mary broke away, satisfied to see the sad look gone, although slightly apprehensive about the look that replaced it. She pushed back firmly against his chest, and Marshall dropped his hands from her waist. Her hand dropped down, searching for his and she squeezed tightly, then stepped back.

"See you tomorrow, okay?" Marshall nodded silently and Mary opened the door and stepped out into the cool night air.

Mary laid in bed, restlessly moving her legs, rearranging the covers, turning on her side, finally flopping on her back, grunting in frustration. Every time she closed her eyes, she felt her partner's cool lips, saw the deep ember lighting the depths of the blue pools of his eyes. She clenched her fists, then punched her pillow, trying to get comfortable.

All she had wanted was to erase the incredibly sad look from his face. It made her ache to know her best friend felt so bad. The kiss had been an impulse, but the impact she had received was unexpected. Marshall's gentle restraint in his response generated a strange feeling in her stomach. Without conscious thought, Mary had let her lips part and felt a subtle disappointment that Marshall hadn't accepted the invitation, hadn't deepened the kiss.

What am I thinking? She acknowledged to herself she would have freaked had Marshall followed through and turned it into an open mouthed kiss. She felt the flutters in her stomach again. Cringing as her mind replayed her lips parting, blatantly offering and Marshall, oh so noble Marshall resisting. A groan escaped her. She had felt the restraint in him. He wanted to. She knew that without a shadow of a doubt. He wanted to taste her, to feel her tongue against his.

Mary slapped the mattress in frustration. Marshall wasn't the only one who was curious. She wanted to know; to know what it would feel like to run her tongue against his teeth, to taste him. This is insane. Why now, after all these years, should she be looking at him differently? It was only a kiss. A kiss that was not hard but soft, not passionate but compassionate, not urgent but tender. Everything he felt for her was relayed in that kiss; sublimating his own wishes to what was best for her, putting her first as he always did.

She listened to the quiet night sounds of the house; the slow turning of the ceiling fan, the faint ticking of the clock from the living room. For the first time she missed having Raph beside her, missed hearing the sounds of his breathing. To be honest, it wasn't so much Raph she missed, as just another human being, knowing she wasn't alone. Raph had some snoring issues that were very irritating.

Marshall now, he didn't snore, or make any of those somewhat disturbing noises most men seemed to make in their sleep. At least not when he would take naps on stakeouts, or those few rare times he had spent the night flaked out on her couch and she had watched him before he woke. She had taken advantage of those opportunities to study him while he slept, his long limbs dangling over the end of her couch, his arms wrapped tightly around one of her pillows. Mary smiled as she recalled his graceless occupation of her sofa.

Her thoughts drifted to the solitary nature of Marshall's life. She wondered if he felt the absence of someone sharing his bed. If he ever woke in the middle of the night and reached out for someone who wasn't there. Mary knew her partner dated, but she frowned as she tried to recall if he had ever mentioned any woman more than once or twice. And she was fairly certain he hadn't had a girlfriend in the time they'd been partners. Good Lord, when was the last time the man had gotten laid? He wasn't a bad looking guy and his tall, slender frame had a certain appeal. If he didn't scare them off with the minutiae he spouted, Mary honestly thought he should be able to easily find someone. And once one got to know him...he was a great guy. Seriously, he should have girls fawning over him.

She yawned and drifted off to sleep as she puzzled over the big doofus' lack of a love life, her mind skittering away from the memory of his kiss and one possible reason he remained alone.

Mary strode into the office, two coffee cups in hand. She hoped Marshall wouldn't make a big deal out of the fact that she was bringing him coffee, without an ulterior motive. She simply wanted to be nice to him. She wanted to see him smile.

The edges of her own lips turned up as she thought about the gentle kiss from last week. He was no longer moping around about Lois. Mary hoped she maybe had something to do with that. She set his coffee down on his desk and looking up saw he was in the conference room with a young boy.

She cocked her head to the side, studying the two men. One tall, lanky, dark haired, confident, relaxed. The other young, blond, nervous, tense. She watched her partner lean over the table and speak earnestly to his witness, then lightly touch his arm, trying to get the hunched over youth to look at him.

Mary picked up the coffee she had just set down and walked into the conference room. She smiled at Marshall, unaware of the soft quality that had crept into her smiles of late. She immediately had the attention of both males in the room, Marshall grinning back at her, the witness staring slack jawed.

"Mary, morning," Marshall drawled, stretching out his arm to take the proffered liquid caffeine. "This is Danny Myka. Danny, this is my partner, Mary." She held out her hand and after a stunned few seconds, Danny eagerly reached out to grasp it, all appearances of misery momentarily gone.

"Do you drink coffee, Danny?" Mary asked as she tried to extricate her hand. Danny nodded and Mary left the conference room after setting her cup down.

Danny turned to Marshall, his expression one of awe and a tinge of envy. "You get to work with her every day? Dude you are so lucky."

Marshall chuckled. "Don't I know it," he said as Mary returned with a large mug for Danny.

"Young Danny here had the misfortune of witnessing a drug deal gone bad in a local park, where he had taken his girlfriend for a romantic walk under the stars. Girlfriend walked over to the concession stand to get a drink and missed the whole shootout." Marshall paused, glanced at Danny, then shifted uneasily. "Danny's family chose not to enter WitSec. So we will need to find him a foster family or a boarding school."

Mary looked assessingly at Danny. "Danny, how old are you?"

"Seventeen," he answered, looking down at his hands. Mary opened her mouth to make a comment, but was forestalled by Marshall tapping her hand and giving a slight shake of his head.

"'It's 'k," he mumbled. "My step-mom hates me. Pretty much came down to an ultimatum and Dad chose her." His shoulders hunched and Mary felt a stab of sympathy for the young man.

Danny watched the two marshals as they put their heads together, having a low voiced conversation. He noted the soft touches, the half-finished sentences, the barely perceptible shakes of the head. He noted the way Marshall gazed after her as she left the conference room. Must be nice he thought, to have someone like that. His thoughts turned to Rachel and he cringed. What must she think of him now?

Mary returned with several files and handed them to Marshall. "There's a few possibilities," she said. Taking the files from her, Marshall glanced over them quickly, then stood up.

"We'll be back in a moment. Danny. Do you need anything?" At the negative shake, Marshall lightly placed his hand on the small of Mary's back and guided her out of the conference room.

Glancing back at Danny, Marshall spoke in a low voice. "Mom died when he was ten, cancer. Dad remarried two years later. Step-mom was almost ecstatic at the prospect of getting rid of her step-son. Two children of her own that took up all her time. He may be better off with us. He needs to be placed with a family Mary. He needs to feel wanted, loved."

"Don't we all," she murmured, unaware of the sharp look her partner shot her. "Call the Meads. They just sent their youngest off to college and I know Ava is feeling the empty nest syndrome." Marshall nodded and moved over to his desk to make the call.