Authors Note: This has been rolling around in my head for ages now, ever since this song popped up on my i pod when the first spoilers about a love interest for Marshall were coming out. The song is "Jolene" originally sung by Dolly Parton. I own neither the song, nor the show.

Please Don't Take My Man

Mary pulled up in front of the small bar on the outskirts of Albuquerque. She didn't know what she was doing here. It was…odd. She should have just said no. But there was something in the way that the woman had asked; something in the way that Abigail had sounded that made her think this was important.

She knew that Abigail and Marshall had been getting closer these last few months, since the baby and Oscar and Mark and, well, life. She still couldn't believe that Marshall and Abigail had moved in together. It just seemed odd. It was as if, suddenly, her Marshall was no longer hers. That the one person she'd never had to share was now less hers than ever.

She sighed. As she got out of the car she heard the twang of country music and groaned. She couldn't believe that Abigail had picked this bar. Well, she could, she just wished she hadn't. Mary hated country music. Just another way that she was different that Abigail.

When had she started keeping track of how they were different than each other? Wasn't that Marshall's job? Mary shook her head and walked into the bar.

In the dim light it took her a few minutes to locate the reason she was here, sitting in a back corner booth nursing a beer. A line from the song that was playing reached her through the din of the crowd.

Please don't take my man

She pushed through the crowd towards where Abigail was sitting. "What's up?" She asked sliding in next to her.

"Nothing much. I just thought that it would be a good idea to get to know you a bit better, what with you being my boyfriend's best friend and all."

Mary tried to smile at her, it didn't work. She turned away from her, trying to see if there was a wateriest she could get the attention of and the song hit her ears again.

He talks about you in his sleep

"How long have you known Marshall, Mary?" Abby asked, bring Mary's attention back to the woman sitting next to her

"I don't know, almost ten years now." She said, brushing her off and looking around again.

"He doesn't like to talk about some thing's that I know you've shared."

"Well, a lot of our time together is spent doing things he can't really talk about."

"He won't tell me what happened when he got shot."

Mary whipped her head around and starred at Abigail. This, she wanted to talk about this? The pain from that day that wasn't nearly long enough ago started to surface and that song, what, was it on repeat or something? reached her ears again.

I can easily see how you could easily take my man

"He was shot. What more is there to know?" She didn't want to talk about it. She'd only ever talked with Marshall about it once, and that had been while he was still in the hospital.

"He won't tell me what happened."

"Well, like I said, most of the time we're together it's doing things he's not allowed to talk about."

"I don't want to know how he was shot, or why. I want to know why when he thinks about it he gets quiet, he shuts down almost, he gets distant and then he says he can't talk about it."

"I've been shot; I don't like to talk about it either. I don't blame him." Mary could tell that Abigail was frustrated, that she wasn't getting the information that she wanted, but she didn't care. That time with Horst, the time spent in that hell hole of a gas station thinking that she was going to watch the man she loved die…love…that was an odd word. She'd never thought about it that way before, but it was true. "Look, have you ever watched someone struggle to breath, struggle to remain conscious, and know there was nothing you could do about it? Someone you care about? When that happens, then come to me and ask what happened when Marshall got shot."

Mary caught the eye of the waitress and signaled that she'd have the same beer that Abigail had sitting on the table in front of her. The song reached her again and Mary started to put the pieces together.

You can have your choice of men but I could never love again

"Look, that's not why you really asked me to come tonight, so out with it."

"We've moved in together, we're closer that we've ever been, but I feel like he's drifting."

"Happens to the best of relationships. Hell, it's happened to me more times than I can count." Mary didn't want to think about why Abigail was telling her this. Marshall was a big boy; he'd have told Abigail if something was wrong in their relationship. It wasn't like Mary was doing anything to hurt it. Or, at least, nothing out of the ordinary.

"It's you. You're the reason he's been distant."

Mary opened her moth to respond but closed it when the waitress brought over her beer. She handed the woman some cash, more than enough to cover the beer and caught another line of the same damn song that had been playing since she'd come in.

I'm begging of you please don't take my man

"What the hell are you talking about?" She asked, suddenly uncomfortable. Sure, in the past few months, since before the baby was born, she had been feeling things for Marshall that she'd been uncomfortable with, but she'd not acted on them. If anything she'd been trying to push him away, from her, from his love for her. She wasn't stupid, or blind, and knew that she would never be the woman he needed.

"He loves you. He's never come out and told me that, but I know it's true. I've seen the way he looks at you when he doesn't think anyone is watching. The way he talks about you. Hell, the way he defends you when you're not there."

"Please, he does not." But she knew he did. Because that's what he'd always done.

"Mary, I can't live knowing that he loves you more than me." Mary could hear the tears in Abigail's voice and she knew that it wasn't fair to her.

"He doesn't…It's not that he….Abigail, in the past ten years there have been more opportunities for me to…have something with Marshall than you can count, and I've not done it. I won't do it. I'm not that type of woman. And Marshall's not that type of man. He loves you. He wouldn't be with you if he didn't."

Mary could see the pain in Abigail's eyes and knew that she couldn't stop her from feeling the way she did.

"He's the best man in the world, honest, and true. He would never hurt you, not like you're thinking right now. He will love you the best way that he knows how. He is with you right now, not because of me or to spite me, but because he loves you."

"But he loves you." Mary place her hand on the younger woman's arm the way she did with witnesses who were just realizing that they would never see their grandmothers again.

"He loves you. That's what matters." Mary waited for a few seconds and when Abigail didn't say anything she slid out of the booth. She needed to get out of here, she needed to think. She walked swiftly towards the door as the last line of the song reached her ears.

Please don't take him even though you can