A few hours later, after getting Julia Parker settled in the spa, a long lunch and checking in on a few of their witnesses, they were on their way back to the office. Marshall broached the subject of Doofus. "You aren't going to find him a family are you?" he asked, hoping he was right. It had been obvious that Mary had fallen hard for the dog.
"Nah, with a name like that he was meant to be mine," she agreed, turning to give him one of her softer smiles. Most people didn't even know those smiles existed which made him treasure them all the more. She was always beautiful whether she was fierce or protective, but it was these softer moments that he was privileged to that had sealed his fate. He was completely in love with her.
"I still think we may want to ask Stan," he cautioned, trying to cover his emotions with gruff responsibility, trying to reign in his feelings so they weren't on display for her.
"What are you? A ten-year old hoping Santa brings a puppy on Christmas morning?" Mary returned, her smile turning devious. "I'm not asking. I'll just bring Doofus with me."
"That sounds about right," Marshall commented. "And bringing him to the office would probably be best. Eleanor or Stan could look after him when we're away."
'When we're away,' echoed through Mary's head even though she told herself not to put any special meaning to those words. Marshall didn't mean it like she wanted him to. He never would; she just wasn't his type. She wasn't good enough for someone like Marshall. Maybe she should just say yes to Raph. But it felt like she was betraying Marshall even thinking about it.
God tomorrow night was going to be… wait, tomorrow night could be fun. "Hey Doofus, wanna help me out with something?"
"Name it," Marshall said, catching first the melancholy then the mischievous expressions cross her face. She was planning something and it was always better to be in on her scheme than the victim of it.
"Well, Raph is trying to sucker me into marrying him. He lied to his mom about us being engaged and I agreed to pretend while she was in town. She doesn't need to know he's a schmuck," Mary explained and Marshall was relieved that she was confiding this to him and annoyed that Raph was doing it to her. He desperately wanted to know what kind of hold Raph had on Mary so he could destroy it. What kind of keeper was he if he let his exotic animal get caged?
"That bodes well," he commented. "Is this what's been eating at you?"
"That noticeable?" Mary asked, thinking she'd done a good job hiding it. She'd been going back and forth over this for two days but hadn't wanted to drag him down into the crap that was her life.
"Only because you were twitching like a caged predator," Marshall said with a grin, enjoying his continuing analogy. "I'm your partner Mare. If I can't pick up on your moods then we're doing something wrong."
"Yeah, I guess so," Mary conceded. He did have a point. Even as oblivious as she could be, she always knew when he was having an off day. And she knew how to get him out of his head when he was overanalyzing things, how to cheer him up if he was upset over a witness, even how to cut his anger when it wasn't directed at her. And she knew he did the same for her. He had also made the one promise that made everything feel safe – he promised not to leave.
"Why didn't you say anything?" Marshall wanted to know. Maybe she'd finally tell him why had she become so withdrawn from him. It irritated the hell out of him that she'd stopped confiding in him after her kidnapping. He'd been trying to give her the space to get back whatever comfort level she needed but they still weren't back to where they used to be.
"Because you don't deserve to wade through my personal shit every day," Mary said with a shrug, hating to admit it even if it was true.
Risking his life, and possibly their friendship, he reached over and grabbed her hand. "Mare, you're my best friend. What goes on in your life, personal or work related, is important to me. You aren't making me do anything here, I do it voluntarily. Besides, you know you keep me from being a complete nerd." He was relieved when he felt Mary turn her hand and link their fingers. It was very rare that Mary allowed people to touch her and this kind of thing was something he normally reserved for after a bad case.
"You're too good for me Marshall," Mary sighed instead of shooting a wisecrack at him. He also found it telling that she said 'for' instead of 'to'. He wondered if she realized it. He wondered if she could possibly mean it as something more than friends and partners. It'd be nice… he cut that thought of quickly, deliberately not letting him get caught up in what-ifs.
After a few minutes of quiet, he decided to nudge her just a little. However, he did not bother to point out that their hands were still linked and he wasn't going to. Ever if that was possible. "So, pretending to be affianced doesn't sound like it's agreeing with you."
"He's getting beyond pushy about a lot of things," Mary admitted.
"Push back," Marshall advised, finally giving voice to his opinion since she'd begun her 'relationship' with the ball player. "If he was serious about being with you, he wouldn't be trying to change you. If he can't handle you as is then he can't handle you long term. Loving someone is about accepting all of them, not just the parts we like."
'Accepting all of them,' Mary reflected on. Raph was always trying to change her. So was her mother. Marshall though; Marshall accepted her without question. They had adapted to each other's idiosyncrasies over the years but the fact still remained that he never forced her to change anything. He'd asked a few times but they were things like not walking in his blind spot when they were going in hot or to make sure they added extra olives to the pizza. Nothing that was a fundamental change to who she was. "Yeah, he says all the things women are supposed to swoon for. Except I find them annoying and fake."
"Should I just tell him that Mary Shannon does not swoon?" Marshall chuckled.. He had an image of Raphael and Mary garbed in Tudor-style clothing with Raphael on his knees pledging his undying love. And instead of swooning, Mary looked down at the frilly dress and cursed before knocking Raphael on his ass and storming away.
"That would be a start," Mary agreed. "And maybe in your disgustingly perfect Spanish you can explain the very first rule of my house. That it is my house!"
"Is he trying to move in?" Marshall wanted to know, feeling his stomach sink.. If Raphael was moving in it would be harder to help her get rid of him. If she wanted to permanently get rid of him.
"Maybe," Mary admitted, feeling ashamed of herself for some reason. "He stated he wanted a key so he can have dinner waiting for me. He keeps fixing the holes the Feds left. He rearranged things in my kitchen and I couldn't find the coffee."
"Was this last week when you were snarling like a saber tooth?" Marshall demanded. She'd been a downright bitch to everyone until she'd broken down and gone out to get coffee. She'd shocked everyone when she brought back their particular favorite – who knew she'd been paying that closer attention? – and some fresh pastries by way of apology.
"Yeah. And that was after he'd made meatloaf the night before and we didn't have any ketchup." This was said with a wrinkling of her nose.
"You eat my meatloaf without ketchup," Marshall prodded, his ego wanting a little stroking.
"Yours doesn't need it," Mary threw at him, watching him perk up at the compliment. She really should do things like that more. "Hell, yours should be served in gourmet restaurants."
"Have you ever done any background digging on Raphael?" Marshall asked when he felt a blush begin to tickle his cheeks.
"I did a quick look after we'd gotten together a few times, but nothing in depth," Mary admitted, thinking that maybe she should have gone further.
"Anything turn up?" Marshall asked. He would be doing his own check tonight. Ammunition was ammunition.
"Alien Resident status dependent upon playing ball, widower, no criminal record to speak of," Mary rattled off as if she was recalling a witness' dossier causing Marshall to wonder if all WitSec Marshals fell into the trap of seeing people as random facts on a page. He knew he did it, especially on first dates.
Then he latched onto something she'd said, his gut clenching uncomfortably, "His Green Card is dependent on his playing baseball? He isn't a naturalized citizen?"
"No," Mary said, noting a shift in Marshall's tone. "Leagues don't push for citizenship unless the player makes and stays in the majors."
"Huh," Marshall said, knowing he was going to be cruising by the INS database first thing. To throw her off he resorted to a very random INS fact, hoping she wouldn't make a connection. "Did you know that Federal Law states that members of Native American tribes living in Canada cannot be barred from immigrating into the United States unless they have a felony conviction on their record. However, they often demand extensive documentation including a blood quotient affidavit from the specific tribe."
"Why do I care about Canadians Doofus?" Mary asked even though she wanted to say 'thank you'. What had clicked in Marshall's mind had finally clicked in hers. Alien Resident status was not a permanent thing. If citizenship was not granted, the status could be revoked forcing the person to go back to their country of origin.
"No reason," Marshall said. "I just think it's fascinating that…"
"Don't start," Mary glared at him. "Or I will leave flaming bags of Great Dane shit on your doorstep."
"I'm done," Marshall admitted, knowing she wasn't bluffing causing Mary to chuckle. Their hands were still together and Marshall found himself deliberately taking a meandering route back to the office to get as much of the simple contact as he possibly could. If Mary asked, he'd say that he wanted her to be able to talk about this without Eleanor around.
"So, wanna come to dinner?" she asked finally, hating to admit that she needed him to be her rock. She liked that he was but admitting it was a horse of a different color.
"Only if your mother is allowed nowhere near the kitchen," Marshall shuddered. Jinx could burn water and anything more complicated than that led to indigestion or food poisoning.
"Mama Ramirez is making goat," Mary responded with a roll of her eyes. "And it may sound gross but it smells damned good."
"So what's your plan,"
"Raph doesn't like dogs," Mary grinned evilly.
"This is sounding much better," Marshall said with a grin to match hers.
"I think the only thing Raph hates more than dogs is that I have a guy as a partner," Mary added, remembering Raph's snide comments about Marshall.
"Want to work the jealousy angle?" That was not a normal Mary tactic.
"Not really work it," Mary admitted, unknowingly about to give him the same plan her sister had come up with. "Just… I don't want to treat our partnership like a dirty little secret in my own home. I don't want to have to curb the smartass remarks or pull punches."
"You have never pulled a punch in your life," Marshall shot at her with a grin.
"Anyway," Mary rolled her eyes. "I think Raph needs to see the parts of me that are yours. Parts he may not have seen before so that he understands I'm more than what he thinks."
The words, 'the parts of me that are yours,' rung through Marshall's head and as hard as he tried, he couldn't keep his heart from pounding. He wished he could admit that he wanted all her parts; good, bad and in between. The in between could be fun!
