Author's Note I am a woman of my word. There's probably gonna to be another sequel to this sequel. It depends on the Muses. I really hope you guys enjoy this and I've got an update on Entangled, as well as a brand new GEAH story gestating in my brain. Just because Mary and Marshall can't be happy together on the small screen doesn't mean that I can't make them happy here. That's always been my philosophy for them.
Disclaimer "Honestly, it's not mine!"
Excerpt from Worthy...
"…The hell it's not! You know me! You know how I am and how I treat the guys that want more than a fuck from me! I can tell you right now that we wouldn't work, Marshall! We're too fuckin' different and you need to go find someone that's not too damned emotionally retarded to love! Not to mention that we just so happen to be partners and best friends, for chrissakes! You really want to fuck that up with a relationship that's doomed to failure from the start…For once in your life, say exactly what you mean or shut the fuck up, Marshall!"
"…You're not turning me down because you're an emotional retard or even because you don't love me back! You're turning me down because you're scared! You're turning me down because you think I couldn't possibly want to be a relationship with you without wanting to change you like the other stupid sons of bitches you've gotten tangled up with! You're turning me down because you feel inadequate and unworthy, which you are not, and most of all, you're turning me down because as always, you think I'm going to hurt and abandon you like your rat bastard glorified sperm donor did! Is that straight enough for you, Mary?"
"…I want to love you but I don't know how and I don't want to ruin you. All right? That's how I fuckin' feel about you..."
"…Point taken. But, ruining's a two-way street, Mary. I'd have to let you. Do you really think I'd let you?"
"Well...kinda. You've been pretty yieldin' to me in the past."
"I have, haven't I?"
"Yeah."
"Shit."
"And normally, I don't mind it but…this…whatever this is, it's different and way too damned important for our usual MO. So, if and it's a big fuckin' if, we're gonna do this whole more than friends/partners thing, the both of us are gonna have to change. You need to grow a pair and I need to quit bein' such a bitch to you when you don't deserve it…"
Stan McQueen kept glancing in the rear view at his wayward children with exasperated fondness. Mary was half sprawled on Marshall and one or both of them were snoring loud enough to wake the dead. Both of them reeked of wine and desert and he spotted dried tear tracks on both of their faces, cutting through the desert dust. He wasn't sure what went down between them out there but he could sense change again. Hopefully, it wouldn't be like when Mary decided to settle down with Ramirez or he'd put in for a transfer himself. Okay, that was a lie. Albuquerque was his home and until he was sure that they'd be okay, he wasn't going anywhere willingly.
A pot hole jolted the SUV and the snoring abruptly ceased as Mary came awake with a low snarl.
"Hey there, Sunshine. You good?"
"Stop the world, it's spinning too fuckin' fast…and it's too fuckin' bright. Wha'time is it?" she slurred.
"A little before 7. You scared the hell out of a lot of people, Mary."
She sighed and sat up slowly, flipping her hair out of her bloodshot eyes. Her tank top had ridden up (showing her Scar) and she fussed with the hot pink tie of her shorts sheepishly.
"I know. Marshall told me and I'm sorry for making everyone spaz out. It was a bitch ass move. Where are we going?" she replied in a much more coherent tone.
"Well, that's up to you."
Mary opened her mouth to respond but it shut with an audible click after a second. Stan's brows went up as she started Marshall poking in the nose, obviously trying to wake him up. He came awake with a snort and then a groan, bringing a hand to his eyes.
"Morning, Marshall." Stan greeted as he pulled over onto a side street.
"Unh…too bright…"
"I know, right? Your place or mine, Cowboy?"
"…thought you'd choose." he muttered as he sat up. His clothes were secure but his hair was an absolute, frizzing mess. His eyes were bloodshot and he could hear the scratch of stubble as he stroked his cheek. Both of them yawned and their breath could peel the finish off of a revolver…
Mr. and Mrs. US Marshal Hobos, Stan thought with twisted amusement. I don't get paid nearly enough for this gig…
"I was gonna but then I remembered what we were talking about after we yelled. Better hit the ground running. Momentum and all that good shit…"
"Appreciate it. Do you have food in your house?"
"Yeah."
"By food, I don't mean that questionable box of saltines and the peanut butter behind the comet cleanser." Marshall clarified with a shiteating smirk.
"Oh. Then, I got nothing."
"Stan, take us to my place. I'll call Jinx and Brandi when the world stops spinning so damned fast."
"I got it. You two need to sleep this off. Mary, you've already locked in 6 weeks vacation time. Should I do the same for you, Marshall?"
"Can you and Charlie handle both of our loads?"
"We'll make do. Look, I'll make it an order if have to. You two have been messed up for too damned long and now that you're really talking again, I don't want to screw up your drunken momentum thing…or whatever the hell you call yourselves doing now. No, don't tell me! I don't want to know! Plausible deniability and all that good shit… just come back to work relaxed and with it fixed."
/
"Go and bathe. I'll find us some drugs and sustenance."
"Squish is better at finding drugs than the both of us."
"Funny. Go and bathe. You stink."
"You ain't exactly farm fresh either, Cowboy. And your hair looks like Medusa and Sonic got kinky with a brillo pad."
"Don't make me laugh, it hurts."
Mary laughed and groaned before retreating slowly down the hallway. The shorts, however classless, were very accurate, especially as she slid them off to reveal a pair of lacy red boyshorts. He looked away just as her hands went to the hem off her tank and said tank hit him on the head with an unMary like but welcome giggle. He moved it enough to show Mary looking over her shoulder (her very bare shoulder) with a siren's grin. Marshall cleared his throat and looked at her through his lashes, trying and failing to be noble and not ogle her. If one looked up "hourglass figure" in the encyclopedia…
"You're a cruel, cruel woman, Shannon. Stripping off in front of a man when he's down…"
"Looks like you're up to me.", she leered wolfishly.
"Go. And. Bathe.", he insisted through gritted teeth, strategically retreating behind the counter.
With an impudent toss of her hair and another pained groan, she obeyed him. Marshall sighed harshly and started mentally spelling the elements backwards and forwards. Once he was "down", he pulled out the ingredients for his hangover cure. Mountain dew, Gatorade, sprite, vitamin c tablets, and alka-seltzer with a little bit of ice. Once two large mason jars were ready (and his was half empty), he put four English muffins in the toaster oven and pulled out a carton of egg whites, along with chorizo, bacon, and breakfast sausages. A bag of pepper jack shredded cheese was placed near him and his eyes went to a clean…and a towel clad Mary.
"I'll keep quiet about the Pac-Man towel if you don't spit in my food." she offered shyly, extending yet another olive branch and his hope. One thing he had always appreciated about her was that once she decided on a course of action, she went for it with both barrels. Maybe, just maybe, they could work things out without drawing blood or more yelling. He hated yelling. Always had but…
"Okay. Drink."
"What is it?"
"Hangover cure from college. It's best when it's cold. I came up with it during Midterms."
"You drank during Midterms? Not even I did that…"
"My brothers surprised me with a visit and since it was my 21st birthday that week, they decided to start me out with a bang. After I came up with this godsend, they had to go on a scavenger hunt for all their clothes, which I had put in the walk in freezer of my job so…"
Mary laughed and drank slowly, visibly sobering up as it worked. He loaded two plates with food and pulled out a fresh bottle of Sriracha Rooster Sauce. Loading a bit onto his fingertip (he had washed his hands before cooking…), he offered it to her. A slight squeak escaped her as it first hit her but her eyes lit up with delight.
"Good, huh? You should try it on vanilla ice cream…"
"Marshall, that's nasty." she chided as she put an impressive amount into her homemade Egg McMuffin.
"Don't knock it until you try it. Eat. Find something on TV for us to watch. You want some clothes?"
"Actually, I kinda don't. This thing may be nerdy but it's pretty damned comfortable."
His eyes couldn't help but follow a water droplet from her hair, down her shoulder, and into her…
"Mary, for the sake of what little sanity I have left, please put on some clothes."
/
They ended up on the pull out couch, Mary dozing in and out of sleep as Anthony Bourdain traveled all over the world. She had on an ancient black baby doll sleep top (an impulse buy back during her FTF days…) and a pair of navy blue sweatpants. Marshall had come out in black basketball shorts and an under tank, revealing a bulkier yet still lean form. A cautious kiss had been pressed to her brow and she had curled closer in response, warm silence between them for the first time in…god, how long had it been?
She still thought Marshall deserved better than her. She was sure that she'd always think that but the bitch of it was that he just wanted her. He really didn't want better. Sure, there had been some attempts to date and some flirting wrapped in his usual kindness but at the end of the day, it was all her, baby. It was…nice. Mary wasn't used to nice without restrictions.
While Raph and the others had their conditions, Marshall gave her his all without her even asking and without reservation. After their arguing had ended, Marshall had climbed onto the car with her and she had curled against him then. He had curled back and like when he had been shot, his breath had tickled the hypersensitive spot at the base of her neck. And like she had in that dark, dusty diner, she had pressed a kiss to his cheek.
And opening her eyes again, she tilted her head up and did the same thing. Marshall's arm stiffened and she did it again, lingering longer. His sky blue eyes bored into hers and she looked back, fighting against her walls and the urge to run away again. Slowly, he leaned in and she met him halfway, kissing him for real. Mary had always laughed when she glanced at one of Squish's candy floss books, seeing lines like "…her heart skipped a beat" or "…his lips felt like pure, silky fire" but she wasn't laughing now. No, laughing was the last thing on her mind…
Her phone started ringing and they broke apart slowly, her arms wrapped around his neck to hold herself up. Both of them knew that it was Faber. Stan had promised that he wouldn't call unless the office was ablaze and her family knew that she was okay, now. In fact, as soon as Stan said that she was with Marshall, Jinx and Brandi had started pushing her to go on a "real" vacation again…
"Are you gonna answer that?"
"It's no one worth talking to."
Marshall looked at her blankly and slowly, a relieved and pleased smile curved his lips. Pulling him forward, Mary resumed their kissing and his hands slid her top slowly but surely up her torso. Without any such compunction, she practically tore his tank off and he climbed fully on top of her in response. As his lips latched onto that spot on her neck, she arched and purred loudly, her fingers clenching in his hair…
Maybe a real vacation with Marshall wouldn't such a bad idea, after all.