Title: I'll Be Your Star Trek Girl
Pairings/Characters: Mary/Marshall
Rating: M (Warning! There's somewhat vague smut!)
Summary: Marshall goes on vacation.
Spoilers: Season 3 ending recommended, but not required.
A/N: I wrote this for the My Smutty Valentine challenge at the mary_marshall comm on LJ. I finished in an hour, and it's exactly 1000 words long. I'm awesome. Warning, there's some kind of fluff here, smut here, or some other stuff. I'm not sure exactly what nonsense I wrote. Also, the title comes from the song "Star Trek Girl" by Meekakity. I listened to it nonstop whilst writing this. Please R&R.
"Seriously?"
"As hard as it would be for you to believe that one would enjoy spending a weekend amongst others whom share your interests, yes."
"If you call squeezing between overweight hairy men that haven't showered for weeks for a scribble on a scrap of paper enjoyment. Ugh, I want to throw up now."
Marshall looked over the newspaper to see if she would. She continued to stare angrily at her screen, popping grapes into her mouth. He pressed his lips together, knowing she wasn't really mad.
"You could accompany me, as I know for a fact you have some vacation days left."
"Ew," Mary stuck her tongue out childishly at him and tossed a grape in his direction.
***COOL TRANSITION HERE***
Marshall's keys jingled as he fiddled with the doorknob. Sometimes his door was tricky, and his landlord wasn't always home or attentive, with a demanding girlfriend taking all of his time.
A woman's hands snaked around his midsection from behind as he finally got the door open. Marshall rested a hand on top of her clamped hands.
"You should really fix that, you know," she said.
"I will later. I'm waiting for you to remind me another couple hundred times."
Mary squeezed past him and practically ran for the beer filled fridge. Neither one of them were exactly domestic, aside from the odd breakfast in bread, most of the contents of the fridge were leftover takeout. Marshall followed obediently and leaned against the bar counter, having to tilt his tall frame almost horizontal to rest his elbows on it.
She turned and handed him an open beer from the other side of the counter and leaned against the sink, klinking it with her own as she did. It had been a hard day. Plus...
"I told myself I'd shoot myself before I ever said this, but I'm going to miss you, Marshall."
"I said you could come with me. I looked over our financials, it's quite possible."
"Okay, fine. I guess I could call Brandi to drop us off."
"That's my girl. I'll go pack your costume."
"What," Mary said, straightening up and tossing a wet sponge at him, "made you think I would wear a costume? And why the hell did you get me a costume if you know I would rather shoot a geek than be near one?"
"Come on. You wouldn't shoot someone in the middle of Comic-Con."
"Try me."
"And again with the tossing things," Marshall looked down at the wet spot on his shirt and looking pointedly at the simmering blond before unbuttoning his shirt and shrugging it off, "Maybe you'd like to try on the costume now?"
"In your dreams, pervus. I have to pack now if we're going to make the flight tonight. You know if we start that, we won't be ready until tomorrow morning."
***COOL TRANSITION HERE***
"I have something to tell you, Mary," Marshall said, stopping near the ticket kiosk.
Mary had a bad feeling. Shit always happened when someone says 'I have something to tell you'. Marshall turned and held her hands in his.
"We're not going to San Diego."
"We're not? I mean, Comic-Con, right?"
"Did you know, Comic-Con doesn't happen until July?"
Mary was taken aback, and shook her head in disbelief. "What the hell are we here for, then?"
Marshall smiled and pulled her close, "Did you forget what day tomorrow is? It's Valentine's Day."
"So?"
"It's.. the... day we started... Oh nevermind. I wanted to take you on a real vacation. I was thinking Aspen. A glass of wine, a warm fire, cuddling on the fur rug as snow lightly falls outside the window..."
"Oh God, Marshall. If you get any manlier I'll have to worry about you stealing my clothes. Alright, let's just get this over with. Does this mean I have to toss my lightsaber? I was kind of getting fond of it."
"It's called a phaser, Mary."
***COOL TRANSITION HERE***
Not long after they checked into the cabin and their clothes were a tumble away on the floor, with Marshall's embarrassingly soft hands on her chest did he finally get to the point and whispered huskily into her ear as he nipped at her earlobe.
"I love this. I love you."
Fighting the urge to push him off and run, she just pulled him close, arching against him as he thumbed the waistband of her underwear and slid them down her smooth legs.
"Marshall, I..."
He silenced her with his mouth, and adjusted his knee to her side and lifted himself off her, hovering over her. Mary's hair spread out under her in a fan, streaks of dark among the blond, making him think of a ray of sunshine. He pressed a finger to her mouth.
"I love you, Mary. And you've always known that. I don't want anything in return for it. The real question is, how can I make you happy right at this moment? The bear rug? The couch? The shower?"
"Uh, I think that's a moose," Mary said quietly past his shushing finger.
"Bite me."
She took his finger into her mouth and he winced in preparation for the sharp bite of teeth that didn't come. Instead, her tongue wrapped around his knuckle. He lowered himself, and gyrated against her thigh as an automatic response. Marshall's bit his lower lip and closed his eyes, whimpering as Mary's hands wandered into his lower regions, promising exactly what her mouth had been giving his finger.
"Your 'oh' face. That's what I want."
"Happy to oblige," Marshall choked out, before meeting her chapped lips with his.
***COOL TRANSITION HERE***
It was a passing thought before she fell asleep on his hairless wimp of a chest that rose and fell in perfect rhythm as he slumbered, that next time she should wear the Star Trek costume he bought her.
~Fin~
R&R?