TAKE ONE
Humid smoke stained air, the floor is sticky with overturned alcohol cleaned up to late, the room is filled with people chatting to each other quietly as a woman sings softly over a piano at the back of the narrow room.
The whole place is like a place out of time.
The only thing letting her know that she hasn't stepped into a time rift is the clothes, still the super causal jeans and t-shirts, sneakers and no hats.
She can understand why he liked...likes... this place so much.
It had been the memories he brought to the front of his mind whenever she tried to read him. She pushes her mind out into the room, searching for him. She's been doing this for years now. Every time she's in a place she knows he's been before but this is the first time she's actively sought him out before. She's not sure why now after all these years, maybe the being alone thing has finally gotten to her.
You ever get tired of being alone Merrill you know where I'll be
Spoken in harsh tones in the dark, his eyes narrow. They had just been in another knock down drag out fight, a kind of angry only Marty was able to bring out of her. She hated herself around Marty. She was a live wire, all her years of Vulcan like control of her emotions gone with little to no effort on his part.
She had told him she hated him.
You must be proud of yourself Merrill, any emotion out of your cold heart is a triumph.
She'd thrown a lamp at his head, he'd just sidestepped it and she can remember the exact sound of the shattering porcelain and glass against the wall.
I don't want you around any more! Leave me alone!
Like she had been doing him a favour by letting him be around.
She'd been fine being alone for ten years, at least that's what she'd been telling herself, why now did she have an ache in her, why now did she keep remembering the sound of his voice, why was it everywhere she went they were playing songs that reminded her of him.
Her mind hit a block and she knew he was here.
She looked back into the dark corner of the club, she could just barely make out movements, and they seemed familiar and she finds that a cold feeling has gripped her insides. She was going to vomit. She needed out of here.
She ran back out of the club, down the street and didn't stop until she was back at the hotel. Safe in her room far away from Marty.
She didn't know why she was here anyway.
TAKE TWO
She sat on the wrought iron fire escape in the alley across from the club and watched people come and go.
Waiting for a glimpse of Marty Strickland and feeling like an idiot.
She'd somehow talked herself into trying again, she knew the ache in her wasn't going to just go away on it's own, it'd been growing steadily worse since the moment he slammed the door.
A figure in a long black coat that she knew so well walked down the street towards the club. She found she could remember the exact smell of that stupid coat. cigarette smoke and dust and Marty. She loved that stupid coat.
His hair was the same, everything was the same. She wasn't sure what she expected for him to be missing an arm or have actually cut his hair, but he looked the same as always and it didn't seem fair because he couldn't be the same, she wasn't the same.
He leaned against the brick and light a cigarette, his eyes peering into the base of the alleyway, far below her safe perch on the fire escape.
Did he know she was here? Could he feel her? Did he care at all? Why didn't he call her out. He'd always done it before, because it was becoming more and more obvious that she was being ridiculous. She never should have come to New York let alone to Marty's place.
She stood from the wrought iron, her grip on the railing white knuckled as she watched him for what she decided would be the last time ever.
She took a quick leap to the rooftop and in the odd quiet of the side street she heard it.
Marty.
After ten years his actual honest to god voice.
He was laughing and she leaned over the rooftop to look down at him, he was laughing with a girl and a rage built up in her the likes she hadn't felt in ten years. Her mind slammed into the girls, pushed around until she found her feelings for Marty, the mysterious man, and she raged.
NO
The girl grabbed her head and fell to the ground at Marty's feet and Merrill quickly removed herself from the girl. She stood wide eyed for a moment, what had she done.
She was a monster.
She didn't stop until she was at the hotel again. Far away from Marty, she hadn't even talked to him and she was already a mess of emotions she didn't want because she was smart enough to be able to recognise jealousy when it hit her in the face.
She'd leave the city as soon as possible.
TAKE THREE
She made it all the way back into the club on the third night. She went straight to the bar and sat there with her back to the room.
She flashed her id and ordered a whiskey neat. Marty's preferred drink and she looked deep into the amber liquid and tried unsuccessfully to think of anything else but him. She could remember exactly the taste of his mouth that hot, slightly alcoholic taste.
She'd only kissed him three times in the five years they had been together. Together was a term she wasn't sure she was allowed to use. She'd never used it when he was next to her, she'd never let him say it either. She hadn't wanted to be together with anyone least of all Marty.
Marty who saw through her, who always knew when she was hurting, who always knew when she was full of shit.
It wasn't fair to him, she knew that now, He'd made something inside her alive again and it had been dying more and more every second he had been gone from her life. She'd tried to fill her life with novels and lectures and star watching but everything was just a little bit wrong without Marty's hand so close to hers, without his body beside her.
She closed her eyes tightly and could remember the feel of his mouth against hers, firm and afraid, she remembers the fear colouring his movements, so afraid that she'd push him away. Her hands grabbing that stupid coat and pulling him to her and the relief that had just come off him in waves and the joy as she kissed him back.
She can't remember a single happier moment than standing in that field with him, in the snow up to her knees his coat half around her and his breath in her lungs. But she had spent a whole year assuring him that it had been a mistake, that it would never happen again, that they were just friends.
He must have known she was full of shit then too because she can remember the feel of his hand so close to hers, just waiting for her to take it.
But she never did.
She slammed back the whiskey left a bill on the bar and left the club.
She would leave and never come back because Marty deserved someone better, someone who could like him back, someone who could love him properly.
TAKE FOUR
The fourth night in a row she was walking down this street. It was raining this time and the street lights shinning on the wet cement made everything feel like a film noir.
A woman who'd thrown away the only man she'd ever really cared for, coming back into his life.
It was Casablanca minus the Nazi's and the husband.
She just couldn't make herself leave, not without seeing him up close, not without having his eyes lock onto her. She just didn't think she could go on without it. The ache inside her was filling her up, pushing out everything else, leaving her a husk of what she once was and she didn't know why, didn't understand it but knew that this had everything to do with Marty.
She had felt fine up until he'd left.
She had thoroughly expected him to come back.
She had waited for a year in that city for him, but he'd never shown up and she knew he wasn't going to come back and she knew now that she had missed her chance to make up with him by not going after him. He needed something out of her. Anything and she couldn't give him a thing.
He had been right her heart was ice cold and with ten years of solitude it the ice was reaching out in her making even her skin unnaturally cold.
The only moment of warmth she'd had in the ten years that they'd been apart was two nights ago when she'd burned red hot about that girl.
He had to know she was here now. The 'attack' had her finger prints all over it, she'd used to same thing on the Fury before although those had been rather a lot more messy. Her attack on the girl had been short, an emotional response she's sure she'd gotten out before she'd done any permanent damage.
With her hood up and her head lost in thought she walked right past the club.
She caught the glimpse of a long black coat out of the corner of her eye and could smell cigarette smoke and...Marty.
She turned quickly to see him standing several feet away looking back at her, eyes wide.
"Merrill..."
God how good it sounded to have her name in his mouth again. She was going to cry, her throat thick, she opened her mouth but no sound came out.
God what was she going to say?
I'm sorry
I miss you
I love you?
It was all so ridiculous. He looked good, even with the rain coming down on the pair of them, with his hair wet and his eyes wide. He looked amazing. Seeing him from across the street hadn't been good enough.
He took a step towards her and she took a step backward without thinking.
The disappointment on his face was undeniable. Any thought that she was here for him dashed by her involuntary response. He turned back and started his journey to club back up.
She stood in the rain crying long after he'd disappeared into the club.
TAKE FIVE
She'd arrived dangerously early, the second the sun had gone down she had left the hotel for the club. She sat at the back of the club, in his seat and waited.
A waitress came by, the same girl she'd slammed around from the inside, "You can't sit here, I'd be happy to clear a table for you." She sounded confused and nervous.
"I'm waiting for Marty." she told the girl firmly in a way that left no room for argument. She was not leaving this city, this club, this table until she spoke to him.
If nothing else he deserved two words, I'm sorry
If he was willing to listen she would go on to tell him that the past decade had been a lonely terrible miserable thing and if he would have her back she'd try and be better. If she could be better.
She'd had three gin and tonics by the time she heard Marty come into the room.
There's some lady at your table
The waitress warned him.
What did she look like?
She could see the door from her seat, could see Marty and the girl and knew that he may have already seen her before last night, that he probably saw her the very first night when she'd been too afraid of everything to cross the room. That from this table she could see the bar where she had sat on night number three. She could see the waitress shrug.
Young, pretty I guess.
Wavy brown hair?
She could feel the girls disappointment from her, mortals where so easy to read, the fact that Marty seemed to know who was sitting at his table must have been a blow for the girl. But it pulled a smirk out of her that quickly vanished when Marty stormed across the room towards her. Everything in her froze and she lifted her almost empty high ball to her lips in hopes of some courage, but mostly just something to keep her seated.
She wasn't going to run away again.
He stood in front of the table, his jacket slowly fluttering down around him from the quick steps. He put his hands on the table and looked across it at her. He raised an eyebrow and waited for her to say something.
She knew from that look that she had a limited window.
"I'm sorry." the words burst out of her and Marty's features softened at the words.
"You came all the way to New York just to say you're sorry?" He sits down in the booth kitty corner to her, keeping a large space between them and it feels vast and painful as she looks at it.
"I wanted to see you." She tells him truthfully.
"It's been ten years Merrill..."
"Yeah...I know." She wants to tell him that everyday since he left was wrong. That she sound have gone after him. That she was a fool. That he's the one. But what right does she have to any of that any more.
He's silent and she finds herself wishing he was yelling at her because then she could just defend herself but this...she has no idea where to start.
"I'm sorry Marty..."
"You said that."
"...I should have gone after you." she tells him while focusing on her empty glass, she's positive if she has to look at him she's not going to be able to say anything right, "I thought you'd come back, you'd always came back before...I stayed in Los Vegas for a whole year thinking you'd come back."
"but you hate Vegas."
It's true it was never really her kind of town, they had been there because it was Marty's kind of town and he wanted to show her the lights.
"I thought being alone was just what I needed to do, what I needed to be but...it was awful."
He's silent waiting out her words because it's obvious that she's not done.
"I need you." She looks up at him and is surprised to see that the edges of him are blurred out and it's only then that she realises that she's on the verge of tears. She might as well go all in, it's the only kind of thing Marty ever understands, all in, it's why he loved Vegas, "I love you."
"You what?"
She swallows hard and tries to say it again, "Marty, I lo-" she doesn't get to finish to word because his mouth is on hers, his body suddenly right up against hers, his hands are hot against her skin and pressing her hard into him and it's the best thing that's happened to her in ten years.
He pulls away but keeps her wrapped up in his arms tightly, like he's afraid she's going to change her mind, "I love you too." he tells her quickly before crashing his mouth against hers again.
Heat is returning to her body slowly spreading out from Marty's touch and she knows that this time around they are going to have to kiss more often.
A/N: I know this fandom is basically dead but a little while ago Youtube was like hey I bet you'd like this episode of this show you haven't thought about in like ten years. and i was like geeze youtube you are totally right. And so a bunch of mini fics came out. I hope you enjoy.