Jinxed Redux
Disclaimer: Not mine
IPS*IPS* IPS*IPS* IPS*IPS* IPS*IPS* IPS*IPS* IPS*IPS*
Chapter 1 – Albuquerque Dreaming
Eyes narrowing, Mary squinted as she never squant before. Is squant even a word? Mary wondered. Before Marshall I would never even have thought about that. Winter sun streamed through the windows of the Sunshine Building spotlighting Marshall as he sat at his desk in the quiet WITSEC office. Perfect target.
After meeting the man in her dreams Mary moved to Albuquerque with its funny smelling air, enormous mountains and bright sun. Their shared realistic dreams were proof of a connection even before they met. Marshall thought they had some sort of psychic hot line. Mary wasn't sure what to call it, but, as hard as she tried, she couldn't deny it.
Leaving the Fugitive Task Force hadn't been difficult. Although she loved the hunt, loved the adrenaline high of kicking in doors and snapping on handcuffs, it was a tough life. Always on the move. Dealing with the worst of the worst. Her view of her fellow man, never sanguine, was sharpened into cynicism by dealing with the society's scum. It felt good to get these criminals off the street and unable to prey on innocent victims. But she felt her former 'partner' was extra weight required by the job. He was in the way. They were partners by assignment, but never functioned that way. She did what she thought necessary. He kept out of her way—if he wanted to keep all his bits attached. She tolerated the other FTF marshals, and most granted her the same consideration.
WITSEC was different. Being partnered with Marshall was very different. Despite their dream connection, she didn't know what to make of this guy, this geek, this bad ass lawman with the quiet demeanor. Demeanor, who in the hell says that? She had come to trust him, but their approach to witnesses was so different, almost opposites, she couldn't understand why they worked so well together. In any situation, he knew what she would do next. She seemed to sense when he was going to move and was able to follow, or provide cover, or whatever was needed. It was strange, weird, but she never thought about it until afterwards. Something about those dreams had welded them into a working unit, partners.
Marshall said it was their 'destiny' or some such shit. She didn't believe that, but she was coming to believe him.
Leaving her mother and sister in Paramus was like taking off a girdle. No more waiting for the next mess. No more calls to get her mother from some honky tonk. Fewer hysterical calls from her sister, who called when she found a new pair of sick shoes, and when she actually was sick and needed someone to pick up meds, or hold her hair over the porcelain throne. Brandi and Jinx still called. Damn cheap cell phone plans. Being the dutiful daughter and sister, she took their calls, much of the time. 3,000 miles of insulation helped reduce their expectatios. Mary felt drama free. Well, family drama free. The beauty of New Mexico and the devotion of the man sitting at the desk across from her made Albuquerque more comfortable than New Jersey ever was.
WITSEC wasn't so bad either. She liked telling people what to do. Her witnesses had better toe the MOU or they'd be dead. She felt useful. She liked showing them how to stay beneath the radar, and what to do if they didn't. She didn't pull any punches. Criminal informants were treated to Inspector Shannon at full throttle. The threat of her displeasure added to the very real threat posed by those they had ratted out usually got them to toe the line. Mary didn't get what attracted Marshall to WITSEC. She didn't understand why he behaved the way he did with witnesses. She did pay attention.
Returning her attention to the WITSEC office and Marshall checking her location while continuing to build his arsenal of paper wad ammunition, she quickly eyeballed the Chief's office. From what she could see, Stan was focusing on a phone call, and not the two Inspectors spitball battle. Hope it isn't another witness transport, Mary thought. We haven't had a quiet night this week.
Stan was surprised at Mary's effectiveness. He didn't believe for a moment that her abrasive pessimism was limited to the office. Marshall had smiled his "I told you so" grin when Stan expressed his approval of Mary's successes. Marshall's eyed had twinkled with more than the pleasure at having his opinion of Inspector Shannon validated.
Not every witness was ready for the unvarnished and frequently profane 'reality' Mary forced on them. Despite her gruffness, Marshall had seen her go to the mat for a witness. She bent several regs to get Leo Billups biological father co-located with Leo's adopted family. The resulting arrangement had been surprisingly trouble free and stable. In all his years, neither Marshall nor Stan had ever seen a WITSEC Inspector pull so many strings for a witness. Stan wasn't sure which (or whose) strings she had pulled. Somewhere, someone owed Inspector Shannon, and she was collecting.
Straw poised for attack, Mary turned and aimed. "Phoo" followed another 'phoo' as tiny paper balls were propelled through a straw, failing to penetrate his defenses. "C'mon Mare, you can do better than that," Marshall taunted. His protective manila folder wall had foiled her assault. "We're talkin' spitball cham-peen. Bring your A game." Marshall loved egging her on. He knew her competitive spirit would drive out common sense and common courtesy.
"I'll bring it, all right. I am bringin' it right to that crap load of trivia that passes for your brain," Mary muttered. She wondered if a properly aimed spitball would cause a gush of trivia all over his desk. "You're days as spitball champion are so over, Doofus."
Marshall retaliated with a spitwad that landed balanced on the top edge of her tank top, right between her breasts. "Sweet," he thought. His thoughts wandered to just how her sweet her softness could be. Distracted his manila folder shield dipped.
Mary looked up and down for Marshall's last shot, but gave that up when she saw she had a clear shot at her opponent. She quickly calculated trajectories; air conditioning and the weight of her paper pellet, the length of the straw. Mary took aim, and landed a damp ball of paper right in the middle of his forehead.
His file folder shield once more in place, Marshall prepared for another assault. Neither heard the door of Stan's office open or the sound of his footsteps as he approached, folder in hand. He had an officially disapproving but amused twist of his mouth.
Marshall's cheeks pinked when he realized they'd been caught. Stan arrived at their desks, looked at Marshall, and made a flicking motion toward his forehead. Marshall swiped his forehead removing the offending object. With Marshall distracted, Mary had a clear shot, and took aim.
"What?" Mary bleated to Marshall, who nodded in Stan's direction. She had seen Stan, but took the shot anyway. Stan was a mystery. He seemed to be a big pussycat, but no U.S. Marshal was ever mistaken for a domesticated feline. Aaargh, Marshall stop putting words in my head! For now, she accepted Stan's direction, usually. For his part, Stan was careful not to give the volatile Inspector "orders," relying on Marshall to keep her from breaking too many regulations.
"Oh," Mary smiled gamely, swept her 'weapon' and 'ammunition; into her desk drawer, and looked up innocently. "Watcha got Stan?"
Stan's eyes were riveted on the spitball trapped in her cleavage. He cleared his throat, and wrenched his gaze to Marshal. "Inspectors?" He appered to be asking if these two childish individuals actually were Inspectors and U.S. Marshals.
"There's been an incident." He intoned, lightly balancing on the balls of his feet, tapping the folder on his other hand.
"Whose witness?" Marshall asked, mentally skimming through his problem witnesses, knowing Mary was doing the same.
"Technically," Stan paused, leaning back a bit and taking a breath, "neither of yours."
Mary sat up straight and caught sight of the spitball in her shirt. She flicked it towards Marshall. Looking back at Stan "Then, why tell us?"
"It's Jinx," Stan continued, looking at Mary. "Jinx Shannon." As if there was room in the world for two Jinxes. Mary's face went blank, remembering all the ways her alcoholic mother had gotten into trouble in the past. Turning to Stan, her upturned face waited for the bad news.
"I received notice from the New Jersey Marshal's office that her car was reported stolen. Neither she or her car have been located." Stan didn't like being the bearer of bad news, but he never hesitated. "This is all they've got," he said placing the file folder on her desk.
Mary skimmed the folder's contents, stood up and pushed her chair back so suddenly it tipped. Stuffing the folder into her messenger bag, she prepared to leave, mumbling "what the hell, ma." Mary asked flatly "Who reported it?"
"Your sister, Brandi," Stan informed her.
Mary paused in her scramble to look at the ceiling, and rolled her eyes. She seemed to be begging the heavens for patience, but Marshall knew she was thinking, calculating. "She's been gone how long?"
"A little over 24 hours. Not enough for her to be considered missing, but a marshal's family gets special consideration." Even though Mary's family had no idea she was in WITSEC, the service looked out for its own – and their families.
"Breathe, Mare." Marshall said, attempting to calm her, while his fingers flew over his keyboard. "I've got this." A few more keystrokes and Marshall told her, "Two tickets to Newark, leaving in two hours. 'll meet you at the United counter.". He stuck files in the desk, locked it and turned off his computer.
"Stan?" Marshall looked to the Chief. He knew Stan would pull out all the stops for Mary. Since joining Albuquerque WITSEC office, no witnesses had been lost or left the program. That was certain to change over time, but the figures from Albuquerque WITSEC were good, better than most. Despite her negative attitude, she was easy on the eyes and brightened up the place. Mary's good results weren't the only reason Stan would help Mary any way he could.
"As soon as I hear anything," Stan replied, watching Marshall, wondering why his senior Inspector was so affected by whatever had happened to his partner's mother. He knew they were closes, functioned like a well oiled machine, but he hadn't given much thought to their relationship or their developing friendship.
Noticing Marshall's curious expression, Stan followed his gaze to see Mary approaching Eleanor. The two women had a tempestuous relationship, sharpening their barbs on one another. Hoping for a quiet farewell, or at the very least, minimal explosive expletives, neither man was prepared for what happened next.
"I need your help," Mary murmured quietly, looking down at her own claspedhands (I'm not wringing my hands. I'm not.) No snark, no derogatory comments, just a quiet plea.
Eleanor looked up, startled by the blonde Inspector's uncharacteristic civility. She had heard what Stan had told Mary, but was unprepared to see the Inspector right in front of her. She stared at Mary uncomprehending.
"I'll…I'll buy you coffee for a month." Not hearing a reply, but slanting her eyes to the side, Mary continued, "OK, I'll buy everyone coffee for a month, and, and" she hesitated trying to figure out what would secure Eleanor's cooperation. "I won't ask for money."
Finally, looking at Eleanor, Mary saw her expression soften, when a hard gleam appeared in Eleanor's eyes.
"You'll do your own transfer and insertion forms for two months and write up all your own visit reports," Eleanor demanded sitting up straight in her chair, lips pursed. "And buy coffee for everyone, for a month." While her cheapness (frugality, Mary thought) was common knowledge, Mary was startled that Eleanor knew Marshall did some of her paperwork. Mary caught Eleanor's eye and nodded, expression dour.
Eleanor turned to her computer and huffed and said "You know you didn't have to ask. I was already working on it."
Mary quirked a half smile and snarked "You mean I don't have to do my own paperwork?"
"You do now," Eleanor said acerbically concentrating on the screen before her.
Mary took a deep breath and felt marginally better knowing Eleanor's considerable skills were being used for her mother. Mary gave her the details Eleanor would need. Marshall realized that she didn't try to renege on paying for coffee. He knew it means Mary was deeply concerned.
"This her car?" Eleanor asked, tilting her monitor so Mary could see the car title. "Yeah, that's it." Mary acknowledged. "Is there anything from local police, or junk yards? She wouldn't part with that car. It's the only thing from Daddy she has."
"No, Eleanor replied. I'll keep checking.
"C'mon Mare, let's get going," Marshall touched her elbow, urging her through the security door. Mary was silent in the elevator and didn't speak as Marshall drove them to his place. She walked robotically to the door, stopping to wait for Marshall.
Once the door closed, Mary turned to Marshall. Standing face to face Mary moaned"What's she done now?" She was speaking to his shirt front and Marshall took the opportunity to nestle her into his arms. Mary didn't like be held, but it was different when it was Marshall.
