A/N: This is all based on the Season 5 Episode, Will Mary Richards Go to Jail?

I am not sure how many chapters I will divide this into. One will contain brief M-ness and at that point (when I post that) I suppose I will up the rating.

This episode is posted on YouTube!

Thank you, Sel, for the help. You are so brave.

/ / / /

It had been a horrible week.

Once it became quite obvious that the Department of Justice was serious about getting the source out of Mary, no one cared about the scoop that had started it all.

The week brought them two long court hearings and three hours of meetings with the station lawyer. For most of it Lou had been there at her side, supportive and perhaps a bit sullen. On Friday the final ruling was handed down. The judge had given Mary the weekend to reconsider her refusal to divulge her source.

But even that time was now gone. It was Monday evening suddenly. And although she could hardly believe this was actually happening to her, Mary would be collected from her apartment on her contempt charge within the hour.

To make matters worse, Mary's original plan to wait for her fate alone, and as bravely as possible, had been thwarted. Rather than let Sue Ann thrust herself on her as her sole company, Mary had consented to having folks from the office over.

Mary only wished to God that the company of her friends had not prompted Sue Ann to turn tonight into an incarceration-themed fete. But, Mary thought to herself, sanity and a hint of understanding in Sue Ann was probably not something she should have wasted a wish on.

/ / / / / /

"Mary."

That was all Mr. Grant said. But it got her attention immediately. He walked toward her quite purposely then from his self-imposed exile at the edge of her apartment. And he had her now, lightly and imploringly, by the arm.

Mary handed off the party-themed tin cup she was holding to a surprised looking Sue Ann. She began to walk then in the direction Lou was indicating with the slight tilt of his head.

She found herself in her kitchen with the door closed and the wooden panels pulled together. Lou only looked at the floor as they stood together. Still, he was able to reach unerringly to take hold of her hand. He stepped in closer then and brought their hands up to his chest. It was a gallant, old fashioned, and slightly awkward gesture. And she had to smile at it because it was so very, very Lou.

He let up a small, anguished sort of noise then, and Mary instinctively laid a hand to his cheek. She tried to get him to raise his head and meet her eyes.

"You aren't still sick?" she asked. She passed her hand over his face as if assessing his temperature.

"Just worried sick. I don't want you to go," he said, his voice strangely weak.

"I'm not pleased about it myself," she tried to joke.

He still had not released her other hand from where he clutched it to his chest. And she squeezed his hand now, needing the strength he offered.

"Oh, Mary. How did all this happen?" He did drop her hand then, but only so he could pull her into him. The hug started out a tad rough, but quickly turned comfortable as he eased the almost fierce grip he had on her and began to stroke her back.

"What happened to Lou 'I'm not a hugger' Grant?"

Mary had offered up her quip because she thought there would be some unease to the situation that she would need to smooth over. But as she relaxed and leaned against him, she came to realize there was no unease suddenly at all. She pulled in a little tighter then, welcoming the comfort he offered. It was a relief to be alone with him, she realized. He was that one person she could show her fears to. Finally, she gave herself permission to let go of what was left of her brave act, and she turned her head to rest it at his shoulder.

"You smell good," he whispered in a voice not quite his own.

She rubbed against his suit coat then and registered the soap and laundry starch. And the masculine after shave. All those things that made this Lou Grant. "Hmmm," she told him sounding content. "You too."

He pulled back from her as if feeling guilty or embarrassed. "I don't want to complicate things, but I have to get this off my chest. I don't know what it is about this whole sorry mess. If it's the injustice of it. My guilt that it is you that's going. Or if it's how proud I am of you and how scared I know you must be. But..."

"But what?" she asked. She tugged at his jacket now as she spoke to cajole a response from him.

He didn't answer, and she began to scrutinize him. There was something in his eyes, she thought. A sort of worry or a question. Not just over her going to jail, but over this - them. Now.

And she was right. Standing there, looking at her, Lou was asking himself if he even understood what was happening. Because it seemed to him as if the woman who had always been his young office protege or the damsel in distress had spent the last few minutes burrowing into his embrace.

And it also occurred to him that the man who thought he was too old, too smart, or too ordinary to risk something like this was about to kiss her.

Lou telegraphed the move with the tilt to his head, the part to his lips. He leaned to her so slowly she could have stopped him. The gentleman in him was giving her that out.

But she didn't stop him. She most definitely allowed him to kiss her.

They eased apart without a word to each other. Seeming worse for the wear, Lou quickly stepped even further back to lean against her counter. "God, Mary. Say something. Are you angry with me? Disappointed? What?"

"No. I'm... I dunno! For right now I am just putting it all down to the madness of the moment, adrenaline ... Serendipity?"

He laughed in spite of the tense emotion in him. There were times when her word choice resembled Jiminy Crickets' more than anything else. And he had grown to find it endearing. God knows, he would never admit such a thing to anyone else though.

Her expression seemed to change as she stood there contemplating him.

"What is it, Mary?"

"Just..." she began before she gave up.

And she stepped over and kissed him quite purposely, as if on a mission to get the answer to something. She kissed him for the longest time. She may have sighed then as she pulled away.

"You know," she told him, "You really are wonderful at that."

"It comes down to who you are with," he told her simply.

She wanted to ponder that. But she knew she needed to tell him they had to stop whatever it was that was happening. They could not take the time to try to figure this out. Not right now.

They needed to rejoin what was supposedly a party and wait for the agent from the DOJ to arrive.

But she didn't manage to tell Lou anything. They were frozen there. A foot apart. Looking at each other and then away again.

Ted's knock made Mary jump further from her boss. Lou turned away to face the wall as if worried his expression would betray him to even the self-absorbed anchor man.

"Mary!" Ted whispered harshly, as he poked his head through the swinging door. "The Feds are here. He brought one of those tough chicks ... From the big house. You know. A prison matron."

… … ...

Everyone said their 'goodbyes' while Lou held back, looking uncomfortable. He bolted forward then as she turned for the door with her hands cuffed awkwardly in front of her.

He took her hands in his and gave them a single squeeze. "You know," he said, cryptically, in a hedging, grumbling sort of voice.

"Yeah," Mary replied, managing a smile. "I think, maybe I do."

Lou smiled as best he could. And leaned in to kiss her chastely on the cheek.

"It'll be okay. I'll see you tomorrow. I'll get you out," he promised.

"Right," she said, trying to sound confident.

But Lou could see how uneasy she was.

And that was a hard thing for him to see.