Chapter 1: Fighting a Losing Battle

"Thank God Baroni is no longer our problem!" Mary exclaimed as she stepped into the already crowded elevator. "I swear, if that man had grabbed my ass just one more time, I would have saved the Castellani brothers the trouble of putting a hit out on him and killed him myself!"

Marshall nodded in agreement as he followed her in, offering a silent apology to the elderly lady his partner had pushed out of the way in her quest to claim the back corner of the elevator. Squeezing past a group of giggling college girls, he too settled in the back corner, glaring at a pair of scraggly twenty-somethings engaged in a rather graphic discussion of the things they'd like to do to his partner. Sighing, he watched as more people got on: a convention attendee; a middle-aged couple; a harried-looking grad student. After a quick glance at the panel to confirm their floor was selected, he closed his eyes and took a deep, calming breath.

They'd just spent the last three days liaising with the New York City office to ensure the safe transfer of a witness about to testify against one of the local crime families. Three long, seemingly never-ending days, stuck in a city with more than 8 million inhabitants. He hated the cramped streets and dark alleys; hated the ever-present crowds and the constant noise; and really hated the ancient, lumbering elevator he was currently trapped in. Not that the elevator was small by any means – the tarnished plaque on the wall certified it could safely hold up to 22 passengers – but it still felt small. Then again, elevators had never really been his thing...

In an effort to keep his mind off his current predicament, he busied himself with calculating how long it would take to get to the 24th floor, where their rooms were located. Considering that the average elevator traveled about 9 feet per second, that each floor was about 12 feet in height, and that they would have to stop 9 times to let off passengers on various floors, he estimated it would take about 5 minutes to complete the trip. Throw in another one minute as buffer in case they picked up extra passengers on the way up, and that brought the grand total to 6 minutes.

That wasn't so bad, right? He could handle 6 minutes. No problem...

"All I want right now is a hot bath," his partner declared as the car started its shuddering ascent. "That, and maybe a-" The elevator suddenly came to a screeching stop, cutting her off in mid-sentence. "What the hell?" she asked, just as the lights went out.

"Oh great," moaned the guy standing to his right. "How long is it going to take maintenance to get us out this time?"

"I just hope it's not a blackout again," added a disembodied female voice from somewhere near the front of the car.

"How do we get this thing moving?" Mary asked no one in particular, sounding like she was on her last nerve. "What the hell's wrong with you people?" she demanded angrily when no answer was immediately forthcoming. "It's not like I'm asking for the moon here; I just want out of this place and away from all of you!"

"Mare," he interjected, knowing he had better do something before the situation turned ugly. The last thing he needed right now was his partner throwing a fit and alienating everyone around them.

"What?" she barked at him, sounding royally pissed. "I'm trying to find out how we can get out of this tin box, and these idiots are just standing around, ignoring me!"

"Can you please just calm down for a minute-"

"Why?" she shot back, getting progressively angrier. "Do you want to stay here, in the dark, crammed in with all these losers?"

"Stop!" he snapped. "Just... STOP!"

He breathed a sigh of relief as she fell silent, obviously shocked but his outburst. He knew he'd have to give her an explanation eventually but, right now, all he wanted was some peace & quiet to try and pull himself together.

"Marshall?" she asked gently, her earlier anger now replaced by concern, "What's wrong?"

"I'll be fine. Just... Try not to piss everyone off, okay?"

"All right."

"Thanks," he replied gratefully, taking another deep breath to soothe his jangled nerves.

"Why didn't you ever tell me?" she asked, keeping her voice low in an attempt to keep their conversation private. Leave it to Mary to know exactly what was wrong without him having to say a word. It always amazed him that she could be so in tune with him on some things, yet be so utterly oblivious on others...

"It's not that big a deal," he assured her. "I just don't like crowds, enclosed places, and darkness. I can handle them just fine, normally, but then again, I'm not usually confronted with all three at the same time."

"Anything I can do?"

"Distract me?" he said hopefully.

"That," she replied, "I can do. Scoot on over here," she added, pulling him closer while deftly undoing his belt buckle and tugging at waistband of his jeans.

"Whoa!" he yelped out, panicking. "What are you doing?"

"Distracting you," she explained matter-of-factly, as if her undoing his pants – in a public place, no less – was a perfectly normal thing to do.

"Um," he stammered, trying rather unsuccessfully to clear his mind, "I was thinking more along the lines of you talking to me or something like that..." He lapsed into silence, trying to get his suddenly-raging hormones under control. "You do know sex isn't the only way to distract someone, right?" he asked, desperate to keep her busy talking.

"True," she replied, a hint of laughter in her voice, "but, in my experience, it is the most effective way to do it..."

She trailed off, leaving him to ponder what would happen next. Having her this close, not knowing what she was doing, what she was planning, was making him extremely nervous...

"Relax, Marshall," she whispered into his ear, startling him. "We can just have a little fun... Keep your mind off things for a while... It doesn't have to be a big deal..."

He kept silent. Besides, he wasn't sure he could find his voice at this point, even if he had a clue what to say...

"So you're not quite ready to step up to bat," she said, sounding mildly disappointed. "That's okay. We can take it slowly," she added, releasing her iron grip on his waistband, leaving him still fully clothed, at least for the time being.

"Mare-" he started, intent on talking some sense into her.

"We'll just start with a little pre-game warm-up, so to speak," she continued, ignoring his protests.

"Please don't-"

"What's the problem?" she asked, confused by his continued refusal to come out and play.

"We're in public," he answered, stating the obvious.

"Do you really think any of these people care what we do?" she asked in an amused voice. "This is New York, Marshall. I'm sure they've seen much worse just walking down the street."

"That doesn't mean-"

"Hey," she called loudly, cutting him off, "does anybody care what my friend & I are doing over here?"

She was answered by a chorus of voices, all confirming her assertion that their fellow passengers did indeed not care what went on in their little corner of the world

"See?" she said, turning her attention back to her partner. "They couldn't care less."

"Mare-" he tried again, making a last-ditch attempt at convincing her this was a bad idea.

"Come on, Marshall... Just go with it..."

"I just don't think-"

"I thought the point was for you not to think," she said, clearly getting frustrated with him.

He sighed, knowing he was fighting a losing battle. He'd never been very good at saying no to Mary, even under the best of circumstances and, right now, he was having a very hard time coming up with more reasons to turn her down. After battling with his conscience a few seconds more, he finally admitted defeat. "Okay..."