I'm baaaack! Well here is another story that came to me after reading something similar. And no, I'm not talking about tilleygirl's 'You're the one that I'm dreaming of', great story, one of my favorites too. Go ahead, you can read that too, again and again. Anyways, enjoy! (Disclaimer: I dont own In Plain Sight)

"Ugh, you again!" she growled to the other figure in the empty room.

"So it seems", he said with a shrug as he sat against the four poster bed that sat in the middle of the room.

"Why can't I have my regular nightmares? Why are you here? And if I have to dream about a person, why can't it be a famous movie star?" she pouted at the man.

He shrugged again, "I keep asking myself the same questions. I personally think that the lack of our friendship in the office has me dreaming about you. And it wouldn't be you if you didn't fight and argue."

"Lack of our friendship?" she air quoted sarcastically before muttering, "Yeah, like I asked for that step back."

"What was that?" he asked.

Mary turned away from him and walked the space of the room, "I don't want to be here!"

"Yelling won't change the fact that we're here," he reminded her. "We've tried it all."

"God dammit! You're the damn Wikipedia here, what does it mean for me to be dreaming about you every freaking day?" she walked over to the four poster bed, but like always stood a foot away from it, like she was afraid to touch it.

Marshall sighed; she always asked the same questions, "What makes you think this is your dream? I've told you before, this is my dream."

"Like hell it is, and if it is, dream about someone else. Bring your damn cheerleader in here and use the damn bed," she swirled around and stalked away from him, walking towards the only door they could see. He already knew she would never reach it; they've tried it many a time and never could reach it.

The dream room had appeared a few weeks ago, the room was a rather large spacious room, with steel blue walls and a rich dark gray carpet, the four poster bed with a king size bed which was as comfortable as a bed of feathers. It was covered in a blue-green comforter and full of pillows and sheer white curtains hung around the bed, each tied to a post. Marshall had pushed the pillows to the side to sit up against the plush headboard, feet crossed at the ankles.

He had tried researching the reasons for having this recurring dream, but he didn't have to research it. The fact that he had re-established their friendship had put a dent on their friendship was the main reason. He had only wanted to please Abigail and in doing so, he had pushed Mary away. He didn't know how to go back to what they had; she wouldn't let him step over that line he drew by asking her not to call him anymore. He leaned his head back against the headrest in resignation.

The fact that Abigail had ended their engagement along with their relationship was another cause for this dreams, he hadn't told Mary about his break-up. And not because he didn't trust her, but because he felt that he lost the right to tell her things.

"Mare, you know you won't reach that door, come back over here," he waited until he saw her turn back and walk back to him, still not touching the bed, trying not to even look at it.

"What?" she wrapped her arms around her chest and waited impatiently for him to say what he was going to say.

"I need to tell you something that I haven't told you," he started as he uncrossed his long outstretched legs and put his feet down on the carpet.

"What now? We can't talk either?" she snapped at him glaring at him.

He looked up shocked at her, "No, no no no, God Mare, I'm sorry. I really just…I don't know. But I think I might've…damn it, I don't know how to tell you."

"Just spit it out, that always works out"

"Abigail and I…we um…we broke up," he said as he looked up at her.

She stood there in silence before laughing, "Ha! I told you it was my dream!"

She moved rather quickly towards him and punched him in the arm, he winced before the fist touched him and jolted awake.

Marshall lay in bed his heart pounding in his ears and sat up, looking around his empty apartment, an apartment that Mary didn't even know existed. He sighed and fell back on the bed, "How can I tell you about Abigail and me if you're going to punch me?"

Mary sat up and looked around her bedroom, kicked her blankets off and walked out of her room to check on Norah. The dream room was really taking a toll on her; she was getting frustrated with not getting Marshall out of her head.

The dream room had started a few weeks after Stan had left Marshall in charge as the Chief of the ABQ Marshal's office. She had been sitting behind her desk, sipping from her coffee mug, minding her own business when Marshall walked in from a torrential downpour; a monsoon had hit early that morning and had been a real adventure to drive to work amid the hail.

Marshall stopped outside the gates and had shaken his raincoat off and shook his head around to get some of the water out, to Mary he had looked like a sexy model, her mouth watered and she sputtered her coffee all over her desk. She had never seen him than just a great best-friend and colleague, but now as she tried to dry her desk, she kept glancing his way. His wet shirt stuck to his chest, a chest she had once saw after he got shot. That time it had been a different circumstance and she hadn't been able to really look, now all she could do was try not to drool and clean her desk.

"Are you okay?" he asked as he walked through the gates and hang his coat on a hanger to dry near the balcony door.

"Yeah, fine, why wouldn't I be?" she said exasperated when he wouldn't leave and go to his office.

He shrugged as he tried to dry his shirt with a few of her napkins, when he couldn't manage to dry it, he started to unbutton his shirt and Mary just gaped, "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

Delia hung the phone and turned at her outburst, "Hey Chief, I see you got in a shower before joining us. Next time try taking off your clothes first."

Marshall chuckled and looked strangely at Mary's outburst, "What?"

"What? Really? Maybe try getting naked in your office," she glared at him and when he continued taking his shirt off, she stormed off.

"What'd I do?" Marshall asked Delia as he walked over to his office, she only shrugged as she stared at Mary's retreating form.

TBC...Please review