A/N: This is part 2 in the Minor Lives series. The series basically consists of looking at the private lives of so-called minor characters which are really ignored in S3! This chapter looks at Marshall Flinkman
Setting: Season 3
Description: We see the smile and the face he gives to the world. But what is going on in his life and in his mind? Marshall POV
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters

A Geek in a World of Super Spies

As much as I try, I just can't concentrate. I am supposed to have op tech ready in an hour and I have to try and focus on my mind at the task at hand. Everything in my life seems so out of control and I hate being out of control. Maybe that is why I like my job so much – everything is so calculated and precise. Within my little world of gadgets, I am in control. I am the emperor over my kingdom...

"Marshall! Are you ready yet?"

I sit up, startled and bumping some of my gadgets to the floor.

"Um, yeah, sure, um, almost there!"

"Okay, because we need you read to present in fifty minutes" Jack Bristow stated briskly before leaving as suddenly as he arrived.

I hate it the way some people talk to me. They have no patience and sometimes are cruelly abrupt with me. I know I tend to go off on a tangent sometimes, but harsh words have no excuse. I like the way Sydney brings me back to the picture, with a gentle voice or soft smile. She makes me feel accepted, a geek in this world of super spies.

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The meeting goes as well as can be expected. Dixon outlines, I present, questions are asked and Sydney and Agent Vaughn will be flying out in a few hours. I watch the scene in front of me – the triangle which exists in our office everyday and which everyone tactfully tries to avoid discussing.

I bustle out quickly though, unable to hang around and chat. I have somewhere else I have to be.

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I pull into my favorite parking spot at the resting home, under the huge green tree. The leaves are starting to fall and I know Carrie will complain that the foliage is clogging up the windscreen wipers. But it is a part of my routine. Every time I come here, I park in the same spot, because I know she can see my car from there. I want her to be proud of me. I want her to see that I drive a nice car and I wear a suit to work.

I greet the nurses by their first name as I walk through the familiar corridors. Her room door is half open and I slowly enter.

"Mom?"

She is sitting in a chair looking out across the lawn. I come up behind her quietly. She can see the bird house and the doves, which the home keeps, are scattered across the lawn like snow flakes. The sun is setting, stormy grey clouds are rolling in from the east and to one corner is a pond, reflecting the dying light. She has probably sat here all day, watching the day pass.

My mom was one of those mothers who was always cooking something. Every afternoon, I would get home from school to find some treat waiting for me. Cake, cookies, muffins, you name it. She was like the classic housewives, who stayed at home to cook, clean and do the washing. I was the only child and everything she had, she gave to me. My friends were so jealous – they had to share their mother's with their other brothers and sisters. But I could keep mine all to myself.

My father was a business man. I never found out where and I never cared. He is missing from my many memories as a child. He would be gone when I got up in the morning and preferred to spend his evenings watching television that asking me what I did at school that day. He would go on business trips occasionally, but I never really noticed the difference.

My dad passed away about ten years ago. I was asked to read a piece on what my father meant to me and it was only then I realize how much I wished my father had been a part of my life. Maybe that is why Mitchell is now the center of my world – I don't want him to grow up not knowing me.

My mother suffered from a stroke a year ago. Up until the stroke, she was a normal, healthy woman. Now, she has to be cared for around the clock. She has lost almost all mobility on the left side of her body and has restricted use of her right. When she first had the stroke, I convinced myself I could take care of her. She had taken care of me as a child and I owed her as much. I soon woke up to reality and it was Carrie who helped me find this place.

She suddenly became aware of my presence and turned her head, giving me a slightly lop-sided grin.

"Marshall" she breathed, in the way only a mother can.

I press a kiss into her forehead, sit next to her and talk to her as the sun sets. I tell her about Mitchell, showing her the new photos. I tell her about my "job" and about the people I work with. I tell her about Carrie and our plans to maybe buy a house. She doesn't say much, but smiles at me proudly.

Soon, it is time to leave and with a final kiss, I bid my mother goodbye.

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I slip my key into the familiar lock of my front door. I find Carrie in the kitchen, putting the final touches on some pasta she has cooked for us.

"Hey"

She turns and smiles. "Hey, dinner will be ready in about ten minutes"

"Okay, I'll just go and change"

She leaves the heavier questions, waiting for a better time, and I am glad she knows me so well. I quickly change and go to check on my son.

As I gather his tiny body in my arms, I am at awe ate this sleeping little person. I sit back in the rocking chair and look at the face which has become so familiar. There is something amazing about the size of his fingernails, his ears, his little tongue which he rolls out like a kitten when he yawns. I can't believe that I created something so beautiful, so unique.

I forget about time as I slowly rock my son, his peace flowing over me. He has no worries, has done no wrongs. He is an innocent and my need to protect him from the world overwhelms me.

I look up to find Carrie leaning in the door way, watching us with a distant smile on her face.

"Dinner is ready"

"Oh, sorry! I forgot!"

"It's okay, I knew you would be in here"

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Dinner is eaten quickly and we quickly settle in front of the television. Carrie settles her body against mine and I comfortably relax my arm across her shoulders. Without pushing, I tell her about my day and my visit to my mother.

Our relationship is something I have never experienced before in my life. My parents weren't exactly a prime example of love and tenderness and all my past relationships never got incredibly serious. There is something about Carrie which calms me down, stops my mind from moving at a hundred miles per minute.

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We do the dishes, the radio playing softly so we can still talk. Her father is coming to visit soon, to see Mitchell. I know she is stressing about it, but I try to calm her down the best I can.

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Sleep is interrupted, as always, as Mitchell cries to be fed and changed. We take it in turns, until Mitchell eventually (and inevitably) ends up in our bed.

I wake in the morning and look at my little family. Here, in the early morning, I am in control again. There are no evils lurking in the shadows, no fears to scare away. We are safe, happy and content.

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"Hey Marshall, what did you do last night?"

"Just watched a bit of television"

Please review! I think I will post either Jack or Dixon next. Any other character suggestions?
Cate