Mary and Marshall sit at their desks, quietly filling out the latest paperwork. Out of all the days of the year his partner could find some reason to despise, Marshall knows that today tops the list. He's looking at a woman right now who could find some reason to be a scrooge on Christmas, yet somehow just the slightest mentioning of this day makes her eyes fill with near-murderous intent. What is today? Her birthday.
He glances up at the woman as she flips over one page and begins writing on the back. He hasn't bothered to try to shop for Mary in a long time. Not since he had figured out that she is impossible to shop for. The first thing she does with any gift she's given is to criticize it. Marshall's always been a little pressed to find the reasoning behind that. Could it be because Mary is so used to taking care of everyone else and getting nothing in return for it that even the smallest token of appreciation or semblance of gratitude makes her uncomfortable? Or maybe is it that she just doesn't want to feel as though she owes anything to someone else? Well, either way he still doesn't want to be privy to the wrath that he would bring on himself by attempting that line of conversation with her.
And even still, ever since the conversation with Stan last year about what he had tried to get for her, Marshall has felt a little guilty just not doing anything. He knows that it's a bad idea to bring up this subject to her as on her birthday she prefers to avoid all conversations about said topic. But being her partner, being her best and only friend, being the one person in her life that she knows she can rely on for just about anything, at anytime and in any situation, he has to let her know that he's at least acknowledged that today is the day of her birth. If she'll let him do no more, at least that much, right?
He lays his pen down and just as he is about to clear his throat and begin, her voice startles him. "Jesus Marshall,"
His gaze lines up with hers. Could she have guessed what he was thinking? No, that's not remotely like her when it's something she doesn't want to hear, she pretends not to know all together.
"What do you want?"
He smirks. It's a little strange how even after all the time they've been partners, he can still be surprised by how aware she is of him. She notices just about everything. He reaches over and moves another paper, writing on the one that had been underneath it. "She looks up and two seconds later there's a 'Jesus Marshall.' Just call me by my first name. It's Jesus to you."
Tilting her head in her trademark "that's-just-so-cute" way, she gives him a smirk. "I don't think I say it that much."
His eyes widen. Is she hearing herself? "Right, and I don't have a plethora of trivia and information stored in my head."
She squints at Marshall in a questioning manner. "Pleto-what? If you're going to use snappy comebacks, Marshall, at least use words that normal people can understand."
A slight glimmer of mirth finds its way into her partner's eyes, his small, almost egotistic grin unrelentingly mocking her as if to say: You know that I'm smarter than you are. Like a big brother picking on his kid sister. Very mature Marshall.
The room is silent for another minute or so. There is only the sound of a page flipping every so often and Stan and Eleanor's conversation from the other room.
"Generally, you don't like to talk about it but today is…" Marshall begins uncertainly. He has to at least give this a couple tries.
Mary's eyes snap to her partner's, she lifts her stapler to eye level. "If you say the "B" word I'll come over there and staple your mouth shut."
She applies just enough pressure on either side of the spring-loaded device to make a small click when the top half connects to the bottom, but not enough to actually produce a staple. Point made.
His eyes widen a little bit. That was a tad bit savage. "Oh come on, you can't really hate today that much."
"Oh, I think that's debatable." The laugh that passes over her lips in this instant is bitter, mirthless.
"Without a doubt it is a debatable subject. But is it true that you actually hate your bir-" He tries to shrug it off, however is cut off mid-sentence.
Mary holds up the stapler a little further, looking at him through narrowed eyes. "I will use this."
He quickly rephrases, turning the chair toward her a bit more. "I mean…actually hate today?"
"Have I ever seemed to you like I like my birthday at all?" She grins, showing not even the slightest hint of real amusement.
He shakes his head. "No, but you haven't answered my question either."
She sighs, rolling her eyes. Maybe it is best to just give him an answer, if it get his twenty-questions-asking ass to shut up.
"Okay…maybe somewhere deep, deep inside of me in a place that even I don't know is there…I actually might like something about this god awful day. There, we satisfied?"
"I guess so." His shoulders raise and lower and a languid, subtle movement while she eyes him to see if this "B-word" interrogation will continue.
But to her surprise, he goes back to the paperwork, quietly scribbling words onto the paper.
Mary watches him for a moment, knowing there must be more. She leans forward onto the desk, crossing her arms. However, when she is about to say something, Marshall interrupts.
"Mare?" Without looking at her he begins.
She has a feeling, at this point, that she knows what's coming. "Yeah?"
Grinning lopsidedly, he flips over the last page in his pile of papers. "Happy birthday. Hand me your paperwork and I'll finish it."
She glances for a second between his finished pile, her mountain of papers and Marshall before picking them all up and dropping them onto his desk. "Okay Marshall…I'll say this but only because you're so mother humping annoying about it. Thank you, it means a lot that you remembered my birthday."
He looks at her for a moment and they both grin, knowing that later Marshall would have to somehow avoid Mary…and the stapler.
I'm sorry. I know it totally has no point to it at all. But I had to do something with that damn stapler from Duplicate Bridge in it. I've never seen Mary so fascinated by anything like that, except in episode four of the first season. I thought it was funny so I had to do it! Please read and review.