Happy 2012, readers! This is a two-shot New year's fic (yes, I know a little late) idea that's been bouncing around in my head for the past week or so. This chapter is all Pre-series.
"He who breaks a resolution is a weakling;
He who makes a resolution is a fool." ~F.M. Knowles
New Year's Eve, 2003
"You're serious?" I stared at my partner of eleven months in wide-eyed disbelief over the rim of my shot glass. "Who even makes those anymore? No, better yet, who actually keeps them past the second week of January?"
Marshall snickered into his holiday glass of spiked eggnog. "I'll have you know that I have been making New Year's resolutions ever since I was a senior in high school and with the exception of not being able to keep one due to breaking my leg, I have a perfect record."
I downed my shot of tequila and grimaced. "Of course you do. God, Marshall, you're such a girl."
He giggled and sipped some more nog before setting his cup on the table between us. "So, what's your resolution?"
"I told you, I don't make resolutions – why would I? To actually plan to do something that far in advance in our line of work and not have something come up at the last minute with one of our witnesses is just plain crazy!"
Marshall dismissed my words with a wave of his hand. "I'm not talking about something big, Mer. It can be something small."
"Such as?" I raised my eyebrow and waited.
"Such as cleaning out your closet and donating your unwanted clothes to charity. Or buying coffee once a week for me and Stan – or even promising to not shoot our witnesses."
"As if I actually would-" I grumbled as I poured another shot.
"But you could promise not to say it while in their presence. It's not exactly good for their morale when they're coming into the program and their WITSEC inspector threatens to -"
"All right!" I slammed the shot glass on the table. "My 2004 New Year's resolution is to not threaten our witness' lives in their presence. There, happy?"
"I bet you one hundred dollars you won't last the month of January, Mer."
I narrowed my eyes at him. "Oh, I am so taking that bet, mister, and when you lose, you are so taking me paint balling with your money."
His face blanched and I laughed. "Losing the hundred bucks isn't torture enough?"
"Nope."
Shouts of 'Happy New Year' filled the bar around us and Marshall suddenly grinned at me.
"What?" I asked suspiciously.
"Where's my New Year's kiss?"
"How drunk are you?" I laughed.
"Come on, Mer, it's tradition. We'll have bad luck all year long otherwise."
I rolled my eyes. "In our line of work, is there any other kind?"
New Year's Eve, 2004 (Moose Lake, MN)
I tensed as I heard the sound of boots on the porch and I stood up from the table, my gun pointed at the back door. The parka covered figure slipped inside, and a gloved hand reached up to slide the hood back as Marshall's muffled voice said,
"It's me."
I relaxed and pointed the gun at the floor, engaging the safety as Marshall unwound the thick scarf from his neck and mouth. I moved over towards the stove and poured him a cup of steaming coffee.
"Could you see any movement out there?"
Marshall's eyebrows rose in surprise as his hands wrapped around the coffee cup in gratitude. "Are you serious? Mer, it's called a whiteout for a reason. All you can see is snow. I can't even see my hand in front of my face out there. As soon as it stops, we'll grab the Olsons and head out." He took a large sip. "Where are they?"
"Mom and kids are crashed in the basement with space heaters. Dad is packing clothes upstairs."
"Still?"
I nodded and poured my own cup before joining him at the big family table. "When I checked on him a few minutes ago, he was still pouring through the family albums."
Marshall shook his head slowly, his gaze focused on his coffee. "Erik told me that his family has owned this farm ever since his great-great-grandparents came over from Norway in the 1860's." He sighed and took another sip of coffee. "This is the part of the job I hate, Mer. These people have deep roots, deep ties to this place and in one moment-" he snapped his fingers – "it's all taken from them."
"Yeah, life sucks." I agreed, as I raised my own coffee cup and took a swig.
He chuckled dryly. "Not as eloquent as I'd like to put it – but it works."
For a few minutes, we sat in silence in the big farm kitchen, drinking our coffee until Marshall stretched his long legs and asked me what time it was. I squinted in the semi darkness of the room towards the big clock above the sink.
"It's almost midnight," I said, stifling a yawn.
"Do you know what day this is, Mer?"
"Yeah, Friday."
"It's New Year's Eve."
As the grandfather clock in the living room chimed the hour, I smiled. "Well, Happy New Year, partner."
"Do I get my New Year's kiss this year?"
"What is it with you and that kiss?"
"It's tradition and look what happened to us this year because you didn't kiss me last year! You broke your leg and I got shot in the ass – I'd call that some serious bad luck. Not to mention the fact that we're stuck in the middle of a white out in Minnesota freezing our asses –"
I cut him off. "You can't seriously believe all that happened because I didn't give you a kiss?"
"Well-"
Rolling my eyes in defeat, I leaned across the table and gave him a wet smack on his cheek. As I regained my seat, I saw his blue eyes sparkling at me.
"Now all that leaves is your New Year's resolution."
I groaned. "Don't push it, buster."
New Year's Day, 2006
I opened my eyes slowly, wondering why I hurt so much and fighting back the momentary wave of panic as I tried to place where I was and what the hell had happened to me. Glancing down, I saw the IV in my right hand and I moaned, which caused a familiar shadow to fall across my bed, blocking what little light was shining in from the outside.
"Good morning, Sleeping Beauty," my partner's voice greeted me.
I moaned again and my eyes blinked slowly shut, then open to take in his worried face peering down into mine. Shit, he looks like he hasn't slept in twenty-four hours – and are those tear tracks on his face?
"What the hell happened, Doofus? Why do I feel like I've been hit by a Mack truck?" My hand reached blindly for the bed control and I gave a weak smile as Marshall placed it in my searching fingers.
He perched on the edge of my bed as I tilted myself up a bit more. "What's the last thing you remember?"
I frowned as I tossed the remote back into the covers. "Leaving the courthouse after Brian's testimony-" I ran a hand through my hair. "Getting on the plane-" I shrugged.
Marshall sighed. "That was two days ago, Mer. We were on the plane when you started complaining to me about stomach pain, remember? You were barking at the flight attendants about food poisoning – but the pain had actually been occurring for longer than a day and you'd been ignoring it, right? And it wasn't your stomach."
I frowned again. "How do you-"
He held up a hand. "Let me finish since you don't remember, ok? We got Brian home but I could tell that you were clearly in pain. I wanted to bring you in then, but you refused, saying all you needed was a hot shower and bed." Marshall shook his head at me and paused, clearing his throat. "You're so damn stubborn, you know that? If I'd left you alone like you'd wanted-" his voice broke and his eyes skittered away from mine.
I felt an unexpected lump of emotion rise in my throat. We'd been partners for three years now and yet I'd never seen Marshall so visibly upset. He was always the calm, cool, and collected one. Steady, reliable, and unflappable – he was the one who kept his head no matter what happened. To see him struggling with emotion now did things to my insides that I didn't want to stop and reflect upon – so I pushed forward.
"What happened, Marshall?" I whispered.
"I refused to leave you alone. You called me an overprotective big brother and said it was nothing, that you'd been having these 'side pains' off and on for over a week now and were probably just getting a stomach ulcer. The more you talked, the more concerned I got. I wanted so badly to turn our car around and take you to the hospital and I should have but you wore me down and I took you home. You went into the bathroom to take your hot shower and I began to make you some homemade chicken noodle soup. And then-" he paused again, clearing his throat.
I reached for his hand and laced our fingers together. For a few minutes, the only sound in the room was our breathing.
"And then-" I prompted softly.
He sighed. "I had just finished dicing the chicken when I heard you scream – which was followed by a very loud thud. I grabbed my Glock and ran into your room, expecting to find some intruder had broken in but instead I found you curled up in the fetal position on the bathroom floor, unconscious."
I reeled back in surprise. "Was I naked?"
Marshall's eyebrow rose and the corners of his mouth twitched. "Hell, Mer! I just told you that I found you unconscious and your first question is whether or not I saw you naked?"
"Hell yeah! You've never seen me naked."
"Well, I have now." My partner flushed pink with embarrassment, including the tips of his ears.
"Damn! The first time you see me naked and I'm not even awake to enjoy it. Not to mention the fact that I don't remember any of this."
"That's probably because you hit your head on the rim of the tub as you fell. The doctor said you had a concussion – some memory loss is quite common."
I rolled my eyes. "So what happened next?"
"I called 911 and while the ambulance was en route, I threw some clothes on you because I didn't think you wanted anyone else to see you naked," he added with a smile and I slapped his shoulder. "It wasn't until we got here to the hospital and you were rushed to surgery that we found out that your appendix had ruptured."
"Wow," I whispered, and then I really looked at my partner and saw that he probably hadn't gotten any decent sleep since I'd been in here. "Hey, I'm sorry I worried you."
"Well, if you'd just slow down a bit and actually listen to the warning signs your body is sending you, this could have been prevented."
"I'm pretty sure that I still would have had to have my appendix removed, Doofus."
"But it wouldn't have ruptured, you wouldn't have fallen and gotten a concussion, you wouldn't have had an infection from the rupture-"
"Ok, ok! I get your point!" I held up my hand that wasn't still joined to his in surrender, then moaned.
His forehead wrinkled in concern. "What hurts the most, Mer?"
"My shoulder – why is that?"
"Well, that's because they have to pump the air from your abdominal cavity somewhere while they are operating-"
I cut off his flow of words by placing my hand over his mouth. "Oh hell no! Your resolution this year was to spout less trivia tidbits to torture me with, remember?"
When I removed my hand, he smiled wickedly at me. "Well, I hate to break it to you, partner, but while you were sleeping we rang in the New Year – Happy 2006!"
I groaned as I realized that he had probably spent the last year storing up the trivia and that this year he would be spouting even more trivia at me and our witnesses.
"So, Mer, I have an idea for your resolution this year."
I glared at him. "I told you, Marshall. I don't do resolutions – they don't work."
"Ok, so this is more of a resolution for me – to make sure we don't end up here next year."
"There are no guarantees in our line of work, Marshall."
"I know that, but this wasn't job related, Mer."
I sighed and nodded. "Go ahead."
"Since I am more knowledgeable and well-read than you are in the medical field, will you promise to heed my advice when it comes to your health?"
I bit my lip to keep from giggling. "Heed my advice? Who talks like that?"
Marshall said nothing, merely waited for my answer.
"My resolution for 2006 is to listen to my partner when he says I need to go to the doctor – but only because I want to remember the next time you see me naked." I laughed as once again my partner flushed to roots of his hair.
"That's my girl."
New Year's Eve, 2007
I rolled away from Raph, panting slightly and looked for where he had flung my bra. Not seeing the undergarment anywhere, I shrugged and sat up, pulling my undershirt over my head. Just as I tried to stand up from the bed, Raph's muscular arm wrapped around my waist and pulled me back against him.
"Querida, don't go. Stay and ring in the New Year with me."
I tried not to grit my teeth at the endearment, just as I tried not to feel trapped by the arm that felt like a steel band around me. Raph was a good lay but he was just like the rest – he always wanted to cuddle and snuggle afterwards. I had met him seven months ago and we had fallen right into bed together but I had yet to take him back to my place or to stay the full night at his.
I turned and gave him a long, sultry kiss that caused him to move his hands up to my shoulders and allowed me to slip free. I smiled at him. "You've already rung my bells tonight, Raph. And I told you when I got here that I needed to leave by 11. It's already fifteen after," I explained as I pulled my jeans up and tucked in my undershirt.
"You are seeing another man," Raph pouted, crossing his arms behind his head, letting his arm muscles bulge.
I bit back a laugh as I thought of Marshall waiting for me at our usual New Year's bar. Yes, Marshall's a man – but he doesn't ring my bells. And yet, I am climbing out of Raph's bed to go meet him. . . . I shook my head. Tradition, that's all it was. Marshall and I spent every New Year's Eve together.
"Just my partner for drinks – it's something we do every New Year's Eve," my voice was muffled as I pulled my sweater over my head. When I could see again, I took a step back for Raph was standing in front of me in all his naked glory.
"Then I should come too – we can start our own tradition."
I shook my head and kissed him again. "We already did our thing." My phone beeped as a text came through. I looked at the screen.
U Coming?
"I have to go-" I looked up to see Raph twirling my misplaced bra in his fingers. I snatched it from him and hurried out the door, stuffing the scrap of lace in the pocket of my jeans. Fortunately my Probe decided to behave and it only refused to start once before the engine turned over and I was on my way.
Marshall was seated at the bar when I arrived but we quickly grabbed our drinks and made our way to the back, squeezing our way through the masses to find a pair of stools in a darkened corner.
He inspected his stool dubiously. "I wish I had something to wipe this down – I think the former occupants took advantage of the darkness."
I giggled and pulled my scrap of lace from my pocket. "Here."
"Thanks." He wiped the stool before the bra opened in his hand and his face flushed. "Mer, did I interrupt your evening activities?" he asked as he handed it back to me.
I giggled again and stuffed the lace into my back pocket. "Nope."
He shook his head. "So, how's Raphael?"
I shrugged. "Fine – he wanted to come with me but I said no."
"Why?"
I shrugged again. "I want to keep it casual – I mean, it's not like we're dating or anything."
Marshall snorted. "Of course not, you're just having sex."
I turned my laser beam gaze on him. "You sound like such a dad when you say it like that. We're using protection, Marshall. I'm being responsible."
"Are you? Having casual flings with guys you pick up in diners instead of –" he broke off suddenly, taking a long drink of his beer.
I waited for as long as I could but he didn't continue. "Instead of what?"
"Nothing – just forget it, all right? I've had a bit more to drink than I should and you know how that affects me. You should probably drive me home tonight."
"I don't want to forget it – I want to know what you were going to say."
"Mer, I'm not going to say anything when I'm under the influence of this much alcohol, all right? Both of us will regret it tomorrow. Besides, who am I to talk? The longest relationship I've had with a woman who isn't my mother is you – and you don't even remember the one time I've seen you naked."
We laughed but there was hollowness to his eyes tonight and tightness around his mouth that I hadn't noticed before. I had a sudden overwhelming urge to take him in my arms and comfort him and I didn't know why. After all, I didn't know what it was that had made him so sad. It was probably just the holidays catching up to him; it made even the jolliest of people depressed eventually.
Shouts of "Happy New Year" filled the air around us and broke the spell that had been woven between us. I smiled at him and clinked his glass against mine. "Happy 2008, partner."
"Happy New Year, Mer."
I felt like I was still waiting for something. As I glanced around the bar and saw all the smooching and groping going on I realized with a start that Marshall hadn't asked for his New Year's kiss. In fact, he hadn't asked for one since I had given him a smack on the cheek back in the Olson's kitchen. Had he been that disappointed in my smooch?
I frowned and stared at him.
"What?" he asked.
"Don't you want your New Year's kiss?"
I watched as he jumped in surprise on the stool. "Mer, I don't think that it's appropriate given the fact that you have a boyfriend."
I rolled my eyes. "I do not have a boyfriend."
"Okay, a friend with benefits, then."
I slid to the floor and strutted over to his stool, planting myself between his legs. I watched as he swallowed nervously, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down in his throat. "Come on, Marshall, it's one little kiss. We don't want to have bad luck all year long, do we?"
"I thought you didn't believe in that stuff?"
I curled my hands around his waist, looping my fingers through his belt loops. "I don't but you've got to give a girl something since you've already seen me naked-"
"Ma-ry!" he gasped as I reached up and planted my mouth against his, swallowing the second half of my name. Our tongues collided and I groaned deep in my throat as I felt Marshall pulling me flush against him. We only broke apart a few minutes later as air become a necessity and some idiot who had broken a champagne bottle open began to spray it around the room. I gasped as the cold spray hit me in the back and my fingers let go of Marshall so suddenly that he teetered dangerously on his stool.
Marshall whispered hoarsely something about needing to use the restroom. As I watched him go, I wondered if my resolution this year should be to drink less.
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