Disclaimer: Mary and Marshall belong to David Maples. If they hadn't been misused by others I wouldn't be writing this.
Sonn of Mann - Chapter 1 – Missing in Action
MARY POV
Monday morning
I scan my card at the security slot of the WITSEC door with an actual bounce to my step. My God, is this what it feels like to have a full night's sleep? Please God, let Norah sleep through the night again. Soon! For once I don't feel as if I've been dragged through a knot hole.
My eyes go to my partner's desk. Marshall isn't there and his computer isn't on. WTF. Marshall's never late. Let me try his middle desk drawer. Maybe he left a note. Actually, I'm hoping to find one of his homemade chocolate truffles. Damn. Locked. Doofus can break into my whiskey stash but doesn't trust me not to trash his desk? Smart man. Maybe he's out getting breakfast for us. What a wonderful idea.
What's Stan looking at? Oh, I 'm smiling at the thought of breakfast. What's a matter Stan? I smile. I can smile. Not that I've done it much lately. Not a lot to smile about here. Getting a new chief. Sheesh. Chief Marshall? The Mann Chaffee wedding or nuptials as Marshall calls them, are soon. Marshall hasn't said anything to me but we don't talk anymore. He knows I despise frou frou wedding stuff. I get enough frou frou talk from Delia on witness visits. Time for coffee. These days I'm stuck with the sludge the office pot produces.
I think I'll rattle Stanley's cage and find out where my so-called-used-to be-but isn't-anymore partner is. I take a sip and wander into Stan's office. That's what happens when you leave the door open Stan. I'd better check out that visitor chair. As the seat compresses it makes a farting noise. Stan looks up but returns his attention to the forms on his desk. Hmph. He's ignoring me. That requisition he's working on must be damn important. He signs his name with a flourish and finally looks at me. Stan's desk always seems to be a big slush pile. Except when Allison Pearson is due for a visit. His mouth is pursed as if he just tasted something bad. Wonder why I see that expression so often?
"Where's Marshall?" Marshall may not be speaking to me, but I'm not about to pass up a chance to rat him out to Stan so I can twit him about shirking work.
Stan looks at me sternly. Well as stern as Stan can. "He's taking a few days vacation." He nods, squinting slightly and looks me in the eye. He must be serious. I take another sip, covering my own expression of disdain. "It's about time," Stan informs me. "Things have been quiet. There aren't any transfers or testimony scheduled. He's got a lot going on these days. He deserves some time away." He doesn't say it, but I hear it anyway. Away from you.
"Message received, Chief. When will he be back?" Stan pretends to be scrutinizing a page of figures. "He said he'd let me know next week." That was different. Marshall planned his time off like he planned his witness transfers – no detail too small, nothing left to chance.
I head for my desk and think about work. Who am I kidding? I'm still thinking about Marshall. He started acting oddly, odd even for Marshall, last Thursday. Someone had derailed his trivia train. Did Abigail cut Chatty Cathy's cord?
For the last few months we've only talked at work about work. I've made a concerted effort to shield him from my concerns about Brandi, Jinx and even Norah. I haven't liaised with any cowboys. I'm not about to tell him about my sexual dry spell. He and his lady love are probably getting it on every night. What is this world coming to when a geek sees more action than a MILF like me? Things must be getting serious between them because Marshall doesn't talk to me about Abigail. I wasn't surprised when they moved in together. I wonder if Abigail knows that I picked the place?
It's time Marshall got off the Shannon merry go round. Jinx has been the least of my concerns lately. She really seems to have gotten her act together, but I can't help waiting for the other shoe to drop. She enjoys teaching the little bun topped tulle bottomed darlings, and I've seen them mob her like a rock star. Brandi's gone, but this time I refuse to track her down. Norah is healthy and seems happy in Joanna's care. I owe that woman big time. But not enough to marry her son, Norah's father.
Marshall probably booked some romantic ranch B&B to calm the pre-wedding jitters. Why does the thought of the two of them spending all day riding the range and all night riding each other remind me of morning sickness? I hold my marshal's mug close to my nose, enjoying the smell. Thank god coffee no longer makes me sick. Get it in gear Shannon. Thinking about Marshall won't get those reports written. It's just another day for this Albuquerque WITSEC Inspector.
A/N: And so it begins. This is Marshall's story and most chapters will be from his POV. Anyone still out there reading IPS?