I wrote this for a challenge between myself and TheHobbitIvy. This is my first venture into IPS fan fiction, so please be kind. Constructive criticism is always welcome!
She'd been locked in a dangerously self-destructive spiral since Mexico. Well before actually, if she really thought about it. Getting shot should have been a wake-up call; ending things with Raph should have been a wake-up call. Marshall's speech… well, that had been a wake-up call that she'd ruthlessly hit the snooze button on. And now, here she was, sitting in her car in his driveway. She'd been waiting for a sign, a hint that after all the ways she'd hurt him, they were going to be OK. After four months of stony silences, a ban on flirting, no teasing, nothing-but-the-facts-ma'am Marshall, she was lost. So far gone that the map was useless
Mary sighed, gripping the steering wheel with white knuckles. She needed to go in, bite the bullet, face the music, apologize. She hated apologies but she owed Marshall more than one. She owed him thousands. Hell, she'd apologize as many times for as many sins as he wanted as long as he'd answer the phone with "Mann's House of Pie" instead of "This is Marshall" or worse, "Go". IF he'd get in spitball fights again if he'd look at her without that anger, disappointment, hurt in his eyes.
Sucking it up, Mary got out of the car and headed to his door. She knocked once and waited. He was home. If he wanted to talk to her, he would.
When the door opened Mary was taken aback. He looked tired. Exhausted. She frowned and waited for him to invite her in. He didn't.
"I just" Mary started and broke off
"What Mary? You just what?" His tone was furious, belying the exhausted slump of his shoulders.
"I'm just sorry" she bit out. :"I'm sorry for Faber, Mexico, Raph, Horst, all of it. I'm sorry for not noticing things, for." She had to stop. She was choking on angry tears. The anger was for herself. The apologies were coming out for things she hadn't even known she felt sorry for. Shit. She hated crying. Crying was for the weak.
"Mary," Marshall started, frowning.
"I miss you okay! I miss my best friend, and I want you back. Just tell me what I need to do." She had started out angry, but ended sounding desperate.
"Enough" Marshall whispered.
Mary's mouth stopped running.
"Do you want to come in?" He asked gently. "I have pie."
Mary nodded. "Pie makes everything better," she croaked.
It did. And four years later, after they said their vows at the Albuquerque courthouse, stars gleaming in the fluorescent glare, they served pie, and every thing was better.