A/N: Here it is: the sequel to Curve balls! But I have a feeling that once you reach the end of this one, you'll be chomping at the bit for Part 3! (evil laugh) Don't worry - there IS a Part 3 and it will be coming soon. Enjoy!

"By far the most common craving of pregnant women is not to be pregnant."

-Phyllis Diller

1, 209, 600 seconds.

20, 160 minutes.

336 hours.

14 days.

It wasn't like Mary and I hadn't spent extended periods of time in each other's company before. We'd done witness transfers and pickups, as well as trials, but none of those had lasted longer than a few days. But we'd been doing our job, focused on protecting the witness, and getting the hell out of dodge safe and sound.

This time Mary would be a virtual prisoner in her own home because she was on bed rest. She couldn't drink coffee to offset the acidity of her tongue and now her access to junk food was being limited. She was five months pregnant and the full range of hormonal mood swings was just starting to come out.

I was screwed.

Day One (July 5th)

"Marshall! What the hell is this?"

I was brushing my teeth when I heard her bellow from the bedroom. Since I figured it wasn't an emergency, I finished the task before I padded into her room on my bare feet. Leaning against the door frame, I looked at the object in her outstretched hand and smiled. "That's my Kindle, Mer."

"Your what, doofus? What does it do? Does it communicate with the starship Enterprise?" she snorted, as she pushed a few of the buttons.

"Very funny." I sat down next to her and took it from her gently. "It's an electronic reader – it can hold thousands of books, Mer. You've seen me with it on road trips, remember?"

She looked at me in confusion before shrugging her shoulders. "So, what are we doing today?"

I shook my head at her. "Nice try. I have to check in on a few of our witnesses and then I'm going to get a bed for your spare room, if that's all right with you. My back can't take sleeping on your couch for two weeks."

"Sure – do you want my credit card?"

"You trust me with your credit card?"

"What are you going to do? Max it out on Star Wars collector's items on ebay?"

"Don't tempt me."

Fifteen minutes later, I was just about ready to walk out the door when she called me back to her room.

"Yes?"

"Where's my car keys?"

I frowned at her. "Why?"

"Oh – I just thought-"

I stepped closer to the bed. "Mer, it's only the first day," I said with a sigh. "Can I trust you here by yourself for a couple of hours? You need to stay in bed."

"I'm not a child, Marshall."

"No, but you're with child."

Her chin quivered as she stared back at me in defiance, not wanting to give into the mood swing.

"Look, watch some daytime TV, call Brandi and Jinx to let them know you're doing all right, and keep your feet up, ok? If you're a good girl while I'm gone, I'll bring you back a treat."

"Didn't you hear what Helen said? I'm off junk food," Mary pouted.

"Pie isn't junk food," I said with wink as I walked out the door.

Day Three (July 7th)

"How's Mary, Marshall?"

Stan had met me downtown for coffee. Since the very aroma of the coffee bean sent Mary running for the toilet these days, I made it a point not to brew the beverage while I was staying with her. This was my first cup in seventy-two hours and my body was practically screaming from withdrawal.

I sighed with contentment as I sipped, then looked up to meet Stan's amused gaze.

"Do you two want to be alone?"

"Knock it off! I haven't had coffee for three days, all right? It makes Mary sick now, remember?"

Stan laughed. "So, how is she?" he repeated.

I sighed. "Let's just say that the hormonal mood swings are in full effect and when she comes back to work, she'll be even more fun." I hid my smirk behind my cup as I saw Stan pale.

"Really? What does that mean, exactly?"

"It means that when I could usually gauge how she would respond to a situation and run interference?" I paused and waited for Stan to nod. "Yeah, that's going to be tricky because her hormones are throwing her reactions all over the place."

"I think I need to take an extended vacation," Stan muttered. "What's her due date?"

This time I did laugh outright. For a few minutes both of us were quiet until Stan asked how I was. "Me? I'm fine, why?"

"Well, I guess I was just wondering how Abigail took the news that you were moving in with Mary for two weeks."

"She wasn't thrilled, but she said she understood. I'm sure we'll talk about it more when I get home." Before I could say anything else, my phone beeped. Looking at the text message, I smiled. "It's an SOS from Mary. Jinx and Brandi were coming over for lunch – things must not be going well."

"And you left them alone?"

I shrugged as I drained my cup. "I left them fed and happy – I figured it was safe for me to slip out for a few minutes. Besides, I needed coffee – but I better head back and see what's up."

"Mary, I know he's your best friend and I'm sure he's a great partner but he's not family! I'm your mother – I should be here taking care of you, making sure you're eating right and –"

"Seriously, mom?" Mary snorted. "You really want to discuss food when the only things you ever made for me growing up were half-ass sandwiches and tuna casserole with potato chip crust?"

"Let's not fight," Brandi urged.

"Afternoon, ladies," I greeted as I kicked the front door shut, announcing my presence and causing all three heads to swivel towards me. Mary looked exhausted and about ready to cry and I had to fight the urge not to throw Jinx and Brandi out right then and there.

"Marshall, Mary's been saying the most extraordinary things-" Jinx twittered.

"Such as?" I asked.

"Such as you're staying here for her two weeks of bed rest, and cooking her meals, and walking Oscar, and things like that."

I nodded thoughtfully as I crossed the room to Mary's side and without a word, swung her feet up onto the couch. She leaned back against the cushions with a sigh, and closed her eyes as a few of the tears escaped. I leaned forward and brushed them away with my thumbs, saying over my shoulder,

"That's all true, Jinx. Mary needs to relax and as much as she loves you and Brandi, you don't exactly have the most calming effect on each other."

Jinx gasped. "How dare you-"

"Mom, he's right," Brandi whispered. "I think Mary's in excellent hands."

I placed an afghan over Mary's legs and watched as she drifted off to sleep, exhausted from this small emotional encounter.

Turning back to Brandi and Jinx, I said, "Look, you're both welcome to call Mary on the phone and check in on her but I don't want you upsetting her like this again. It's not good for her blood pressure and it's definitely not good for the baby, understand?"

Both women nodded and though Jinx looked like she wanted to say something else, Brandi took her mom's arm and they left without another word.

Battling my own feelings of guilt, I turned back to Mary. Bending over her sleeping form, I kissed her forehead. "I'm sorry I left you alone with them – especially for something as stupid as a caffeine fix," I whispered against her hair. "It won't happen again."

Day Six (July 10th)

I wasn't sure what woke me that night: the violent thunderstorm, Oscar's howling, Mary's cursing, or some crazy combination of all three. Stumbling out of the guest room and into the living room, I yelled over the thunder,

"What in the hell is going on out here?"

Mary looked up in surprise from the couch. "I was trying to watch a movie because this dumb dog is terrified of the storm and yowling so much that he's keeping me awake – but the cable just went out."

I reached out and flicked the wall switch a couple of times. "Looks like we've lost power."

"Great! I'd say let's just go back to bed but I don't think Oscar's going to let us sleep."

On cue, there was another clap of thunder and Oscar howled.

"Shut up!"

"Mer, he's scared – is that the way you're going to talk to your children when they're scared?"

She snorted. "I'm not having any more children, Doofus, and I'm not keeping this one, remember?"

I sat beside her on the couch, and Oscar jumped up next to me. Patting him reassuringly, I said, "I thought you'd decided on adoption, but at the barbecue you said something that made me think you'd changed your mind."

"I haven't changed my mind – wait, what did I say? That day is still a little fuzzy."

"You said that Brandi came over and said something-" I tried to jog her memory.

"Oh that." She waved her hand dismissively.

"Are you going to tell me what she said?"

"It's not important. Adoption is definitely the only option."

I studied her in the darkness of the room for a moment. "Ok, then, if you're sure."

We were silent for awhile as the storm raged close to the house and Oscar continued to shake and whimper.

"I know what we can do!" Mary said. "You can read me a story on your Kindle."

"What am I, your Scherazade?" I laughed. When she looked at me blankly, I said, "From the 'Arabian Nights'? The famous storyteller?"

"Whatever – go get it. I know just the book I want you to read."

Rolling my eyes, I stumbled through the dark hallway to the guest room and back, managing not to do any major bodily harm to myself in the process. Mary grabbed it from my hands and began to push buttons, looking for what she wanted.

"Hey, since when do you know how to operate a Kindle?"

She grinned. "I've been practicing." She thrust it back into my hands and curled up against the other end of the couch.

I stared at the screen in disbelief. "The Princess Bride? Seriously? I would have thought that Andy and Winnie would have ruined this one for you."

She shrugged. "You're always saying that the book is way better than the movie – well, here's your chance to prove it to me."

"Ok, then. But you better brace yourself because chapter one is the stuff rom com's are made of."

She groaned. "Are you trying to make me regret this?"

"No, just making sure you know what you're getting yourself into."

"Quite stalling and read on, grandpa."

I grinned. "As you wish." As soon as the words left my lips, I regretted them. Not because I didn't mean them, but because the timing was wrong and I didn't want her to think I was trying to say something I wasn't. Mary's eyes met mine in the darkness but I couldn't read the expression in them because of the low light. I cleared my throat nervously and began to read.

"'Chapter one: The bride. The year Buttercup was born, the most beautiful woman in the world was a French scullery maid named Annette. . . .'"

Day Nine (July 13th)

No matter how hard I tried to convince myself that I was on vacation and I didn't have to wake up at the crack of dawn, my internal clock still woke me up far too early. This thrilled Oscar because we quickly settled into a routine of going for a six mile run while Mary was still sleeping. By the time we got back to the house, Mary was just starting to stir and demand breakfast. Of course it had taken her a few days to realize that I was not going to be cooking her pancakes, eggs, bacon, and sausage every morning. Once she had accepted that some of those food items were no longer on her diet, at least not until after she delivered the rug rat, breakfast was a much more peaceful meal.

I always made sure to dispose of my coffee cup before I returned to the house. Of course, Mary now had the nose of a bloodhound and the first thing she insisted I do when I got back was brush my teeth. Funny, Abigail always wanted me to shower first, but not Mary. The woman didn't even kiss me and yet she insisted that she could smell my breath from clear across the room! Since I wanted to keep the peace, I bowed to her wishes and as a result, I think I now sported one of the cleanest set of pearly whites in Albuquerque.

This morning as I tossed the house keys on the island in the kitchen, I stood still and listened for a moment but heard only silence from the direction of Mary's room. I brushed my teeth in the hall bathroom before I nudged her door open and let Oscar proceed me into the room. He jumped onto her bed and began rapturously licking her face, while I stood in the doorway and tried not to laugh.

"Get off me, you mangy mutt," she growled, pushing him away as she rolled over.

"Good morning, Sunshine."

She opened one eye and glared at me. "Must you wake me up like this every morning?"

I merely shrugged and grinned. "You hungry?"

She snorted. "That's like asking if the Pope is Catholic – I'm always hungry, Marshall. Let me pee and I'll meet you in the kitchen."

I had already set out the breakfast items and was reading the paper when she shuffled in several minutes later. When I felt her eyes on me, I lowered the paper very slowly to meet her gaze.

"What? You're looking at me funny," I said nervously, taking a sip of orange juice.

"Did I-" she stopped and continued to stare at me.

"What?" I repeated.

"When I was in the hospital, did I kiss you?"

I barely prevented spewing my juice all over the island in my surprise. She hadn't brought the subject up and knowing Mary like I did, I hadn't expected her to. Part of me thought she didn't even remember it; after all she had been exhausted and doped up on medication at the time.

When I didn't say anything, she became even more insistent. "Marshall, did I?"

I set the paper aside and looked up at her. "Yes."

"Oh my God – it wasn't a dream," she whispered, as the panic filled her eyes. She turned to flee but I was faster. I knew how she would respond to my answer and I was already moving to intercept. I grabbed her forearm as I darted around the island, pulling her against my chest.

"Let's talk about this, ok?"

"You must think I'm a terrible person! I mean, you have Abigail and you're happy and then I go and kiss you and-" she broke off in a hiccup, trembling against me.

"Mer, you've got to calm down, all right? Let's go sit down."

I led her to the couch in the front room and without a word of protest she curled into my side, resting her head on my shoulder, sniffling and hiccupping.

"Damn these hormones," she swore after several minutes. "I don't even feel like myself, Marshall. I don't know how I'm going to react to situations, you know? I can cry at the drop of a hat now over nothing at all – you have no idea how damn frustrating that is! But the thing I hate the most is the fear." She tilted her head so her eyes could look into mine. "I'm still afraid, Marshall."

"Of what?"

"That's just it – I don't know. I think if I could put a name on it, I'd know how to fight it. On the fourth of July, I think I was scared of losing the baby, and that surprised me because I don't want to keep it. I mean, I'm going to give it away so why should I be afraid of losing it?"

"You're the only one that can answer that, Mer."

She rolled her eyes at me. "You don't have any insights at all?"

"None that you're going to like hearing."

She raised her right eyebrow. "That's never stopped you before."

"I'm thinking of your blood pressure and your hormones this time around," I said soothingly as I ran my hand through her hair.

I watched as she swallowed nervously and considered for a moment before she nodded. "Go on."

"Maybe you're having second thoughts about the adoption." I placed a finger over her lips. "Hear me out, please? It would be perfectly normal to have them, Mer. As shitty of a childhood as you had, you would want to give your child a better one, which is no doubt your number one reason for adoption. On the other hand, as this child grows inside of you, you can't help but form a bond with him. You also feel responsible for what happens to him, for not taking care of yourself and ending up on bed rest and putting him at risk, am I right?"

Mary's eyes were shiny with unshed tears again as she nodded. "Wait, why do you keep saying 'him'? Do you know something I don't?"

"No – I just said him because –" I stuttered to a stop as I watched the triumphant smile spread across her face.

"You are a lousy liar."

"I know, sorry. Forgive me?"

"It really is a boy?" she whispered as her hand crept down and covered her belly.

I smiled. "It's a boy."

Her smile faded as her eyes met mine again. "I can't keep him."

"Why not?"

"Because I can't – he deserves so much more than I can give him. He deserves a mother and a father who love not only him but each other."

For a minute, I felt like I couldn't speak because the air had been taken from my lungs at her desperate words. "I had no idea you were such a romantic," I teased her softly.

"Must be the hormones talking," she said dryly.

Stan had to call me in to defuse some situations with a couple of witnesses' around midday. I hated to leave Mary after the emotional morning we'd had but I didn't have much of a choice. We still hadn't gotten back to our kiss in the hospital since we'd gotten sidetracked with her pregnancy fears.

I stopped to get her something extra special on the way back to her house. We were past the halfway point in her bed rest period and she had been doing so well with the dietary restrictions. Since today was a holiday of sorts, I figured today was as good as any to celebrate.

Mary's head shot up from the couch as soon as I opened the front door, her nose sniffing the air and her eyes zeroing in on the bag in my hand.

"Now you're just being mean. Couldn't you have finished your lunch in the car and disposed of the evidence since you know I'm not allowed to have any?" she growled as she flopped back against the couch cushions.

I chuckled as I shut the door and walked towards her slowly. "I already ate my lunch and contrary to what you think – this is for you." I held out the Arby's bag.

"What?" she looked up at me in disbelief. "Is this a test?"

"No, no test. Happy National French Fries day!"

Her lip curled. "Are you serious?"

"I'm perfectly serious and as a reward for how well you've been following your diet, I thought you deserved a little something special. Go on," I urged, pressing the bag towards her.

She looked up at me in disbelief for two more seconds before she grabbed the bag and opened it, inhaling deeply, groaning in delight. "Oh my God, curly fries!" she sighed. She pulled out the small carton and popped one of the curls into her mouth and chewed in ecstasy.

"As you may well be aware, French fries refer to the way the potatoes are cut and not the country of origin. In fact, many countries have varieties of French fries but did you know that it was Thomas Jefferson-" I paused and Mary looked up at me.

"What?"

"Isn't this usually where you throw a wadded up napkin at my head or tell me to shut my hole?"

She laughed in delight. "Marshall, you brought me French fries! I love you like an eight dollar whore right now! You could recite the Declaration of Independence and I wouldn't care so long as I have my curly fries," she sighed as she popped another curl into her mouth.

Day Twelve (July 16th)

"Tell me again why they're coming."

I looked up from the cutting board to see Mary standing in the kitchen arch, scowling like a six-year-old.

"Because, Mer, Brandi has been feeling terrible about how much she upset you when she was here last Thursday. She called and asked if she and Peter could come and have dinner with us. I thought it would be nice since you haven't seen anyone since you've been on bed rest."

"You mean solitary confinement."

I ignored that comment and resumed chopping tomatoes for the salad.

"Jinx isn't coming, is she?"

I smiled. "No, Brandi says she's still mad at me for interfering in your family business."

Mary snorted. "What a crock – as if you don't know what's best for me. Marshall?"

"What?" I looked up at the hesitation I heard in her tone.

"You won't leave tonight, will you? I mean, we have everything we need for dinner? You won't have to run out and get something?"

Guilt ran through me at the vulnerability I heard in her voice. "I won't leave you here alone with them, Mer. They're bringing an apple pie for dessert, and we have everything else."

Dinner went amazingly well. Peter and I managed to keep the conversation going and it wasn't until we were clearing the table that Brandi dropped her bombshell.

"So, Marshall, I hear that you're the father of Mary's baby, not Mark."

Mary gasped in surprise and I nearly dropped the load of dishes I was carrying.

"What the hell, Squish?" Mary exclaimed. "You know that Mark's the father – what's this nonsense about?"

"Well, that's what you told me – but I heard that Marshall told the nurses at the hospital that he was the father," Brandi explained.

Brandi, Peter, and Mary all looked at me for an explanation but it was only my partner's eyes I sought as I answered. "I did say I was the father, Mer."

"Why?"

I sank into the chair next to her. "They weren't going to let me stay with you and I wasn't going to let them kick me out – not like they did the night you got shot." I paused and watched as understanding flooded her eyes.

"So when the nurse asked-" Mary began.

"I said I was the father," I finished. And I wish to God I was. No! Danger, danger, Will Robinson! Abigail, think of Abigail! You love Abigail, remember?

Mary stared at me for a long moment before she laughed shakily. "Well, it's a shame you're not. I'd rather the baby have your DNA than Dick's."

"MARY!" Brandi gasped as Peter chuckled.

But my heart was fluttering strangely in my chest. Did my partner really just say she was sorry the baby wasn't mine? Did she really mean it, or was she teasing me?

But more importantly, did I want her to mean it?

Day Fourteen (July 18th)

I looked at my partner in amusement as she laughed until she cried. When her shrieks of laughter were finally reduced to giggles, she wiped some tears away and gasped, "That's awesome! Does it really end that like or are you making it up?"

I sighed and held out the Kindle to her. "See for yourself if you don't believe me."

She giggled and wiped away more tears. "I can't see a thing right now! Read it again," she begged.

With another long suffering sigh, I read: "'From behind them suddenly, closer than they imagined, they could hear the roar of Humperdinck: 'Stop them! Cut them off!' They were, admittedly, startled, but there was no reason for worry; they were on the fastest horses in the kingdom, and the lead was already theirs. However, this was before Inigo's wound reopened, and Westley relapsed again, and Fezzik took the wrong turn, and Buttercup's horse threw a shoe. And the night behind them was filled with the crescendoing sound of pursuit. . . .'" I stopped and looked back up into her dancing eyes.

"This is a much better ending than the movie."

I rolled my eyes. "I think that all the romantics out there would disagree with you."

She sobered suddenly. "But it's a realistic ending – it doesn't say that they didn't get away. Maybe they did, maybe they didn't." She shrugged. "It just sounds so much more plausible than 'and they both lived happily ever after – the end'."

"It's been a long time since you believed in fairy tales, huh?"

I watched as her gaze grew distant, looking over my shoulder into the past. "Sometimes I wonder if I ever did believe in them, Marshall."

I glanced at my watch, noting how late it was. Mary had insisted we finish the book tonight no matter what since it was the last night and as result, time had gotten away from us.

"It's late and you have a doctor's appointment in the morning. Time for bed."

She looked at me in amusement. "Yes, dad."

"Just think – after tomorrow, you'll be free of me."

"And you'll be able to get back to your life. Abigail must be pining away for you."

I smiled, but didn't rise to her bait as I powered down my Kindle and made sure the front door was locked. As I walked down the hall to the guest room, her voice stopped me.

"Marshall?"

I turned to look at her standing in her bedroom doorway. "Yes?"

"We never did talk about – I mean, I'm sorry I kissed-"

"It's ok, Mer. You were exhausted, scared, and knocked up on pain medication. I never thought that kiss meant anything more than friendship."

For several heartbeats, Mary simply looked at me in the semi-darkness of the hallway and as the silence grew, I started to second guess myself. "That was what you were going to say, wasn't it?" I asked, taking a step towards her, watching as she stepped back.

"Of course. Good night, Marshall," she whispered.

"Good night, Mer."

July 19th

1, 209, 600 seconds.

20, 160 minutes.

336 hours.

14 days.

As I sat in Dr. Reese's waiting room surrounded by women in various stages of pregnancy, I had to fight the urge not to give myself a pat on the back. I, Marshal Marshall Mann, had survived two weeks of bed rest with a very pregnant, very hormonal Mary Shannon – and we were both still alive! I had endured tears, rage, fears, cravings, Shannon family drama and more.

And I was now free to resume my life – and to be with Abigail.

"Marshall Mann?"

I looked up as my name was called to see a nurse beckoning me from the doorway. "Yes?"

"Dr. Reese would like to see you in her office."

Fearing some kind of complication, I nearly outpaced the nurse before we reached the tiny, windowless room. Sinking into the chair on the other side of the desk, I asked breathlessly,

"Is something wrong with Mary?"

Dr. Reese smiled at me. "On the contrary, Mr. Mann, Mary is more relaxed than the first time I saw her – and I think that's due to your influence."

I heaved a sigh of relief and leaned back in the chair. "Where is she?"

"She's getting dressed and will join us in a few minutes. Now, I understand that you're not only Mary's partner, but her emergency medical contact as well?"

I nodded.

"Then I'm going to feel free to discuss a few things with you. Mary is doing better but her blood pressure is still not where I'd like it to be. However she is insisting on returning to work."

I smiled. That's my girl.

"So, I'm going to allow that for now. She can return on four hour days, five days a week – but only desk duty and she must keep her feet elevated as much as possible during that time. Also, do you know how to take a person's blood pressure, Mr. Mann?"

My head was still reeling from Mary's work restrictions, when Dr. Reese suddenly switched tracks to me. "Yes, ma'am, I do."

"Good." She set a box on the desk between us. "Here's a blood pressure cuff. I'd like you to take Mary's blood pressure twice a day – once at work and once at home, preferably within the first hour she gets up in the morning. Keep the numbers in a log book and bring them to her next appointment. Mary talked about her diet and it sounds like you've been doing a good job so just keep-"

"Dr. Reese, I'm sorry to interrupt but it sounds like you've misunderstood. I've only been staying with Mary on a temporary basis to help out these past two weeks. I'm going back to my own house this afternoon."

Dr. Reese frowned. "No, I wasn't aware of this. Mr. Mann, can I be perfectly frank with you?"

I nodded.

"Mary is going to continue to have a high risk pregnancy and there's every possibility that the baby will be premature. I would definitely feel better about her situation if I knew that there was someone, a family member or close friend, who was living with her in case of emergency. This person needs to be reliable and also have the ability to keep Mary calm – so far you are the only one who has demonstrated these qualities."

I closed my eyes in defeat as I realized that Dr. Reese had put me between a rock and a hard place. I was going to be damned if I did or damned if I didn't. Abigail's smiling face floated in my mind's eye followed closely by Mary's tear streaked one and I struggled not to groan in frustration.

Abigail was meeting me at my house for dinner tonight, to celebrate and no doubt talk about our relationship now that the fourteen days were over.

But Mary and the baby still needed me – I couldn't just walk away from them.

I was so screwed.

Ah, Marshall. Our knight in shining armor is going to have to choose - very, very soon. Reviews are L-O-V-E!