Mary sat in her chair catatonically. She didn't acknowledge Marshall as he moved to crouch down in front of her. "Mare," he waved a hand in front of her face, "you in there?" Deep down, he was worried; it was rare for him to see her like this.

The last time had involved five rapid-fire shots of Bacardi 151, a small cactus and a very confused llama…

***February 5th, 2009***

Mary crouched below the window. The evening was cold and millions of stars blanketed the sky. Marshall was about ten yards behind her around the corner of the barn. She'd won the rock, paper scissors game for once and had been the designated scout. She would go first to make sure that the coast was clear.

Mary kept low to the ground as she dashed through the open barn. She passed the empty stables quickly before flattening herself against the opposite wall. She motioned for Marshall to follow her as she peeked around the doorframe.

Mary felt warm breath against her neck. She paid it no mind; it was just Marshall. He had a habit of standing too close. The warm sensation continued.

"Geez, Marshall," she whispered without turning around, "back off a little, will you?" She waved her hand behind her head to get him away.

The feeling came back after a few moments. She was beginning to get really irritated with him. "Marshall!"

"What?" Marshall whispered as he appeared at the other side of the door.

Mary did a double take before slowly turning around. Within inches of her face was a llama. She gave a startled cry as she stumbled backwards out of the barn.

Marshall watched the scene unfold in slow motion: Mary being startled by the llama, Mary stumbling backwards out of the barn, Mary tripping over the rake that lay haphazardly under some brush, Mary falling ass-first onto a small cactus.

Their cover had been blown already and Marshall wasted no time in making his way to his embarrassed partner.

"Mary! Are you okay?" He held a hand out to her, "It's just a llama; a harmless creature!"

"Owww," she groaned as she accepted his hand.

Her face was a shade of red he'd never seen before. Marshall quickly made sure she wasn't seriously injured (aside from her pride) before allowing himself to chuckle.

"Aw, come on, Mare, he was just saying 'hello'!" Marshall grinned as he made his way back to the llama, "Llamas greet by gently blowing on each other." Marshall reached up and stroked the llama's neck.

Mary didn't move from her spot. She secretly hoped it would spit at him. When she saw the llama react to the attention Marshall was giving it, she spun around and stalked towards the house. Why the hell does Bobby D have to live behind a llama farm, anyway!

Marshall made quick work of catching up. Their plan to sneak up on Bobby had failed miserably. Now, they just wanted to drag him out for a drink.

**2 hours later**

"Mary, I can't believe you, of all people, were scared of a llama!" Bobby D was three sheets to the wind as he signaled for another drink, "This is the best birthday present ever!"

"I wasn't scared; just startled," Mary rolled her eyes as she sipped her fifth beer. Bobby's birthday celebration wasn't going quite as she and Marshall had planned it but this was as good as anything.

"Come on, Shannon," Bobby leaned towards her (a little too close for Marshall's liking), "I'll bet you can't match me. I'm already four shots ahead of you."

Marshall took note as his partner's eyes darkened at the challenge issued to her. Before he could interject, she accepted the challenge by downing the remaining three quarters of her beer in two long gulps. He was forced to avert his eyes when they became too focused on the way her lips hugged the neck of the bottle and his pants needed adjusting as his gaze followed the liquid down her throat.

"Mare, you don't have to do this," Marshall scooted his chair so he was in front of her as he pleaded; he'd never seen her as drunk as she would be if she accepted Bobby's challenge. He knew that alcoholism was hereditary and also that Mary was very careful to not follow in her mother's footsteps.

"Aw, come on, Marshall! Lighten up!" Mary raised her empty bottle in the air, "It's Bobby D's birthday!" The bottle slipped from her hand and she scrambled to catch it before it shattered on the floor. In her efforts to retrieve the bottle, she lost her balance and fell forward.

Marshall was able to catch her; just not soon enough. His ears turned bright red as he looked down to see her face in his lap. He squeezed his eyes shut and prayed she would simply laugh it off. He risked a glance over at Bobby who was leaning on the table while watching them with interest. Their eyes met and Bobby cracked a cheesy grin and gave him a thumbs up.

"Nice!" Bobby mouthed to him as the blush Marshall's ears made its way down his neck. Marshall sent him a stern look as he shifted his chair away from Mary while moving to prop her back up.

Mary yanked her arms away from his grasp and leaned back on the table. She pointed at Bobby, "You're on!"

Marshall hung his head in resignation as he prepared himself to play the role of baby-sitter. He took slow, moderated sips of his beer as he watched the duel between Mary and Bobby play out.

Five rapid fire shots of Bacardi 151 and three more beers later, Mary appeared to be holding her own. 'Appearances can be deceiving,' Marshall reminded himself as he finished his beer. Bobby, who was not even trying to hide his inebriation, stood up and held his hand out to Mary.

"Nice, Shannon," his voice carried through the bar, "way to drink like a man!"

"No, drinking like a Mann involves two beers tops," Mary said as she shook Bobby's hand.

Marshall rolled his eyes and wrapped an arm around each of their shoulders. "Come on, you guys, let's get ya'll home." Marshall led them out of the bar and into the chilly evening.

"Did you just say 'ya'll'," Mary slurred as she rolled her head back to look up at him.

Marshall merely rolled his eyes as he helped Bobby into the backseat of the GMC and then opened the passenger door for Mary.

She didn't budge.

"Come on, Mare," Marshall sighed, "please get in the truck. It's late and you're already going to have a killer headache tomorrow."

Mary gave him a look he'd never seen her direct at him before. He vaguely recalled describing her as a 'wild animal' at some point during their partnership. Seeing this look that she gave him only backed up his metaphor. Her eyes had darkened as she straightened her posture and began to saunter closer to him. His breath hitched in his throat as he glanced nervously behind him; hoping Bobby would be able to protect him from whatever Mary was planning.

Bobby was passed out in the backseat.

Marshall gulped as Mary continued to advance. He was surprised at how smoothly she was walking given how much alcohol she'd ingested in the past hour.

"Mare?" He looked nervously to his right and left; there was no escape. She was coming at him from his right and the open door blocked his left. There was no way he was going to be able to make it around the vehicle before she reached him. "Mare," he tried to keep his voice level, "what are you doing?"

She said nothing as she held his gaze. She was now so close to him that her breasts brushed against his chest. Marshall swallowed the lump in his throat as he looked deep into her eyes. His eyes followed her right hand as she slowly traced a finger up the center of his abdomen. He began to force his breathing to calm as her finger rose to his collar bone.

Marshall willed is hand to gently stop her ascent. "Mare," he cursed his voice for betraying him as he croaked, "what are you doing?"

Her eyes darkened as she leaned in closer to him. On impulse, Marshall closed his eyes and mirrored her movement. Time stopped as their lips touched. She tasted like Bacardi and apples; it was delicious.

He was jerked back to the present as he stumbled backwards. Momentary hurt from the thought of her pushing him away again changed to something tenderer as he held a passed-out Mary in his arms.

Marshall lifted her gently and put her in the GMC. More than likely, she would not remember this part of the evening.

More than likely, he would never again know how she tasted. He licked his lips once more as he made his way over to the drivers' side of the truck.

Marshall sighed for what seemed like the one millionth time this evening. Mary with a hangover would be fun to handle in the morning. And by fun, he meant absolutely not.