*A/N: So, I really wasn't going to do a post S3 finale one-shot for the simple reason that I am heavily invested in "Whatever it takes". BUT my Marshall muse was outraged at the ending and refused to let me go until I wrote this. So once again, this is from Marshall's POV. (I'll get back to my other story SOON, no worries!) This one-shot is also posted on the LJ community Mary_Marshall, and is inspired by all the talking that has been done abou the S3 finale. Much talk has gone on about how Marshall never "wins" and how the ending was something out of Marshall's nightmare. In my universe of fanfiction, Marshall always wins. Enjoy!
Mary playfully glared at Faber. "Don't call me that!"
"Aw, come on kitten, you know you like it!" Faber drawled, drawing Mary closer to him.
Mary rolled her eyes. "You're such an idiot," she breathed before their lips met in a searing kiss.
My eyes flew open and I blinked in confusion. I had a horrible kink in my neck from falling asleep on my couch at an odd angle in the middle of the afternoon. The television was still tuned to the Discovery Channel and Ben Bailey's voice was announcing: "You're on Cash Cab! It's a TV game show that takes place right here in my taxi! What do you say: do you want to play?" Leaning forward I found the remote on the coffee table and turned the television off. Images from my nightmare were still fresh in my memory. Mary and Faber in a hotel room in Mexico. Mary with wet hair, wearing a sexy red sundress; Faber wearing nothing but a towel. The two of them verbally sparring with each other that ended in a passionate kiss.
Nightmares about Mary and Faber were not a new occurrence for me. Ever since we had met the man in Denver, he had been sniffing around Mary, looking for an opening with her. He had managed to turn up in Albuquerque a few times since then, each time for business reasons, but he made damn sure to weasel his way in for personal reasons too. I could tell that during his last visit, Mary's opinion of him had improved, and my nightmares since then had increased tenfold.
Then came this last case with Father Gabe – and of course, Faber sent him to us. Faber never came to Albuquerque, but Mary talked to him on the phone. And then Stan told Mary that she had all these vacation days that she had to "use or lose", and I could just see her wheels turning. After all these years as her partner, I know her too well. The morning she came bouncing into the office with the present for Gabe, saying she needing to blow off steam, get drunk, and do a cowboy practically brought me to my knees. I could just see her flying to Denver and screwing Faber right then and there, or asking him to meet her on some tropical paradise for some sex on the beach. And with that horrible picture in my head, I just snapped. I got up and went over to her desk and told her what I've wanted say for years. That she doesn't need just anyone, she needs someone who gets her, challenges her, calls her BS, and makes her think. I was talking about myself, of course. But Stan interrupted us before Mary could say more than: "I'm thinking." And then she did what Mary Shannon does best: she ran.
I hadn't seen or talked to her in over a week. Her vacation time started on Monday and it was now Sunday afternoon. Stan told me that she was taking the full two months but he had no idea where she was. I wondered if I would hear from her or if I'd completely run her off by my words in the office. I glanced at the time and decided to get some exercise before finding something for dinner.
"Feel like running?"
Mary's words from a few weeks ago rang in my ears and I smiled. Hell yes, Too bad I couldn't run from the nightmare images in my brain or my unrequited feelings for my partner.
When I returned to my house an hour later, my phone was buzzing. Picking it up, I saw that I had a text message from Mary.
'Need to talk. Bring beer. I have pizza'
I was very confused as I typed my reply. 'Where r u?'
While I waited for her reply, I wandered to the kitchen and got bottled water from my fridge. 'At home. Why?'
'Vacation?' I typed back as I went into my room and started getting ready to take a shower.
'Got tickets today. But I need to talk to you first.'
'Why?' I typed back.
My heart started to speed up. Why on earth would she need to talk to me first before she left on vacation? I should just make up an excuse; after all, she ran from me the other day when I made my feelings and what I wanted pretty clear. The phone buzzed in my hand.
'Because I'm done thinking.'
'Be there in 30.'
I met the pizza delivery boy on her driveway. Using my key, I unlocked her front door.
"Mer? The pizza's here!" I called, noticing the back door was open.
"The money's by the door!" she called from the backyard.
I turned and saw that she had left cash on the table by the door. Knowing that it would be exact change without a tip, I extracted my wallet from my back pocket and added a bill before handing over the cash. The pimply faced youth who barely looked old enough to drive grinned and handed me the extra large pizza box.
"Thanks, mister! You have an awesome day!" And he bounced down the sidewalk.
Balancing the pizza and beer I walked through the house and out the back door. Descending the steps to the patio where I knew Mary would be lounging by the pool, I said, "You know, just because you pay in exact change doesn't mean you don't need to tip the pizza boy."
I looked up as I cleared the last step and nearly stumbled. Mary was reclining poolside in a skimpy black bikini that barely covered her assets and showed off her glorious skin. I gulped.
Mary laughed. "He's a prepubescent pizza delivery boy, Marshall, not a waiter."
I managed to get my feet moving and set the pizza and beer on the low table. "You better cover up, Mer. You're gonna get pizza sauce and beer all over you," I said as I sat down across from her and flipped back the lid on the pizza box.
She gave me a funny look but reached for the white filmy cover-up on the back of her chair, slipping it over her head. We ate in silence for a few minutes before I asked her what she'd been doing this week.
She shrugged. "I had lunch with Brandi and Jinx, got a massage, a manicure and pedicure, and lounged by the pool. Jinx left me her box of travel brochures and I've been trying to decide where to go."
I nodded. "I thought you'd already left."
"No, I was thinking." She paused and I waited. "Aren't you going to ask me what about?"
I grinned. "Aren't you going to tell me?"
She picked a piece of green pepper off her pizza and threw it at me. I caught it in my mouth, to her astonishment, and ate it.
"I was thinking about signs and cowboys and someone and messy."
I swallowed heavily. "Sounds like a lot to think about for one week. Did you reach any conclusions?"
She took a long pull on her beer and set it aside on the table. "A few, actually. I came to the conclusion that I still don't believe in signs. I think people see what they want to see and ignore the rest – for the most part."
I nodded.
"And I do like some things messy. Take food for instance. I love ribs with extra sauce, burritos with hot sauce, and nachos with all the fixings. And don't even get me started on the food items that melt and I can lick off fingers or other body parts."
I grinned and shook my head to hide my frustration at how dirty she could make the simplest things sound. I watched as she stood up and reached down for my hand.
"Now cowboys are an interesting subject. I mentioned finding one to 'do' the other day and you talked about the fact that I've done them and that I've been one." She paused and in one swift motion she sat on my lap, straddling my thighs. "But there's only one cowboy I'm interested in riding. And that's someone who already knows my BS and loves me anyway."
I don't know who moved first but suddenly our lips were together and hands were caressing skin and clothing was being removed. When Mary pulled away from me a few minutes later, her cover-up was gone as was my shirt.
"Marshall," she whispered in my ear. "Take me inside. I don't want our first time to be out here with an audience."
"The first time?" I murmured against her lips, as my fingers loosened the string on her bikini top.
"No. Maybe our third or fourth," she laughed as I swept her up and carried her inside.
Hours later, we lay entangled in Mary's bed. She was resting her head on my chest, dozing lightly while I was desperately hoping this wasn't a dream. Suddenly I felt a pinch on my upper arm.
"Ouch! What was that for?" I looked down to see Mary grinning up at me.
"Because I know what you're thinking – room renting, remember?" she reached up and tapped my temple. "This isn't a dream, Marshall."
I sighed. "So, tell me about these plane tickets."
"Well, I talked to Stan on Friday and he says you have four weeks that you need to 'use or lose'. I just happen to have two tickets to Cancun. So, what do you say Marshall? Feel like running away with me to Mexico?"
I grinned as my hand cupped her cheek. "Always."
~FINI
*Ah, now that's an ending!
