Author's Note: Since I'm not aware of the exact address of the Marshal Building in IPS, I used the U.S. Courthouse on Lomas Blvd to the best of my knowledge. All locations herein, even though they're real, are used fictitiously. Also, I have no idea what possessed me to do a Christmas fic. It was supposed to be a one-shot but, as usual, the characters control the story more than I.
Disclaimer: I own no part of this show whatsoever. In fact, I barely own the computer I'm typing this fic on so, as usual, no lawsuits.
"It's no big deal," he said for the fifth time since they'd reached the elevator.
"Of course not," she said casually, nudging him with her shoulder. "We'll take my car."
Marshall stopped dead in his tracks, his intense eyes focused on her. She'd stopped a couple feet ahead and had now turned to face him, confusion etched into her features. "Fine. I'll tell you over lunch. But we're not taking your car."
She held back a grin, knowing she'd won. "Why not?"
"That thing's a death trap. Neither of us may make it to date night." Mary did her best to look wounded by his remark, but it barely lasted three seconds.
"Deal."
"Subway?"
"You must be dreaming. Amer-Asia; I want good food to go with the juicy details."
"And now sushi is your idea of fine dining? Maybe we should take your car after all; Leonard's Automotive Repair is right across the street. If you show some skin, they might just put the Probe out of it's misery, free of charge." He knew the punch was coming even as he said the words, but the stinging feeling in his bicep was worth it. The longer he kept the attention off of him, the better off he was. He had a sneaking suspicion that once they were seated, all bets were off.
He spent the drive thinking about what to say to her. She, for whatever strange reason, was thankfully quiet, staring out at the derelict looking buildings on Slate Avenue. Whether or not her mind was truly elsewhere wasn't for him to say, but he was thankful for the silence.
He pulled up to the curb and looked around, still hesitant of his surroundings. It's not that he was scared of the neighborhood, he just preferred if his lunch wasn't interrupted by the sight of his hubcaps running off.
"Quit being a baby, nobody wants your rusty hubcaps." She was already halfway out of the truck by the time he pulled the key from the ignition.
"For one, I wasn't worried about my hubcaps," he lied. "Secondly, I make it a top priority to keep them clean as a whistle, unlike a certain blonde friend of mine." He anticipated another punch but it never came. Knowing Mary, she'd probably wail him out of the blue at a later time just to make sure he wasn't expecting it.
That was the thing about Mary; From one minute to the next, you could never tell if she was predictable or spontaneous, and the result was always surprising. It was one of the many traits that Marshall both admired and loathed about her.
They were seated a couple of minutes later, menus in hand, drinks on the way. "I haven't seen a single Asian in here," she commented, "except for that guy sitting in the back who looks like he ordered an entire buffet. What's up with that?"
"It's slightly less hurtful to call them Oriental, Mare."
"Again, how the hell does that answer my question?"
He shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe that's why it's Amer-Asia. Owned and operated by Americans who serve strictly Asian style cuisine."
"Why do you get to call them Asians and I don't? No fair."
"I was referring to their culture, not their appearance." He sat up a little straighter and adjusted his tie, his eyes roaming over the small restaurant.
"Whatever. So tell me about tonight. Where are you taking her? Why are you even going out with her?"
"Your mannerisms are quite trite, you know that?"
"Yeah, yeah, yeah, I was raised in a barn and all that jazz. Now spill it, we had a deal."
"I plan on cooking dinner at her place," he said carefully. "Perhaps going for a stroll through the beautiful town of Albuquerque."
"Yeah, right. So why are you giving her another chance? That'll be awkward if crybaby calls whilst you're in the throes of passion with his ex."
"I realized something."
"What's that?"
"You sound infinitely smarter when you use smaller words." That comment earned him a sugar packed right below the eye. "Hey now, careful. My vision is my best quality, aside from my dazzling charm and my stunning good looks."
"Need I remind you it took you three tries to pass the eye exam when you renewed your license?"
"I had pink eye! Next question."
"No, same question. What's with the second chance? Is my little Mann falling in love?" She deliberately crooned out the last word, and he couldn't help but smile. Any time he saw her face light up instantly made his day better.
The seconds passed, the smile faded, his face sobered. He waited while the waitress set their drinks down and took their order, watching her hurry off before he continued. His elbows had ended up on the table and he leaned forward just slightly, "Who wants to be alone on Christmas Eve?"
Mary leaned back, perplexed by his response. It's not that he hid his feelings from her, because he rarely did. It was more of the fact that she couldn't recall him ever talking about being lonesome before. She chewed on the information for a minute, catching her bottom lip with her teeth as she always did when she was in thought. "I'll trade you."
"Sorry. Raph's not my type."
"Too dark?"
"Eh, I prefer blondes. Reminds me of the beach."
"Shelley's a brunette."
That caught him off guard, but he recovered quickly, hoping she hadn't noticed. "It's a dye job. She'll get there eventually." He kept his eyes trained on hers, trying to decide if she bought his cover-up. Thankfully, their lunch was served, and Mary Shannon rarely refuses food, especially when it allows her a valid reason to play with chopsticks.
Just like Pee Wee's Playhouse, the word of the day is... REVIEWS!
