Chapter 3 – The Challenge

Marshall watched with amusement as Mary paced around the office like a caged animal, letting out a torrent of words worthy of a sailor. She was almost in a panic over this New Year's Eve party. She may not want to go, but Marshall did. Very badly. Bringing in the New Year surrounded by happy people was always better than bringing it in by yourself, sitting in front of the TV, watching the ball drop two hours early due to the time zone difference.

Eleanor had shown him the invitation from the local FBI office and he had slipped into Stan's office later in the morning, while Mary was at the courthouse, planted the suggestion that this might be a good way for Mary to mend some badly battered fences with their FBI brethren. Would look good for the Marshall service too, to have a good turnout at the event. Had tossed out the comment that of course Mary would never go voluntarily. Stan had followed through beautifully.

Once Mary finally ran out of derogatory comments about the FBI, New Year's Eve, dress up occasions, holiday parties, interdepartmental cooperation and world peace, Marshall chimed in with his offer to pick her up. Mary had continued to silently fume. Marshall took her silence as acceptance. He smiled. He had every intention of being at her side when that countdown to the new year ended, to take advantage of having an acceptable excuse to kiss her.

He had been admitted to the Shannon home by Brandi, who was smiling broadly. She gave him the once over, taking in his tux, declared him not too shabby, and brought him into the kitchen. Mary was still getting ready, she explained. Marshall had chatted easily with Brandi, slightly unnerved by the speculative look she was giving him. When Mary walked out, Marshall had literally stopped mid-sentence. He couldn't speak. She was beautiful, the green dress bringing out the green of her eyes, the shimmering fabric clinging to her oh so nice curves, swirling around her long shapely legs. He felt his body start to tighten up and had to close his eyes briefly. When he looked at her again, he saw an expression of satisfaction on her face. And one of delight on Brandi's. He filed away Brandi's expression to ponder later and offered Mary his arm.

The evening went surprisingly well, for an event that was attended by Mary. She made nice with everyone they spoke to, with the occasional muttering under her breath as someone walked away. Up until that idiot Hinson ruined Marshall's carefully laid out plans. No one would be paying attention to anyone else, they would be occupied with their own companions. Marshall planned to be able to kiss Mary, not anything too bold, but not a friendly peck on the cheek either. Then that stentorian voice. Hey Mann, bet you don't have the stones to kiss your hot partner. Idiot. Now all kinds of attention was focused on them. The status of Mary and Marshall's relationship had been something of a topic of interest for some time. Mary was glaring daggers at Hinson, then turned that look onto him. The look that said DON'T. YOU. DARE. He heard the chant pick up, KISS HER, KISS HER. There was no way he could do it now. Not with everyone looking, judging. Couldn't kiss her the way he had planned. Had to do something though.

He kept his best marshal calm face on, as he tried to decide what to do. Dear Lord, please don't let her walk away and leave me standing here by myself. Watching her face he saw anger momentarily pushed aside by bewilderment. And then the countdown started, TEN...he thought he might actually murder Hinson, NINE...wondered if he would ever get another chance with her, EIGHT...my God, she's beautiful, SEVEN...well he couldn't just shake her hand, SIX...why do all these people care anyway, WHY are they watching? FIVE...I could really use a drink, FOUR...definitely going to murder Hinson, if Mary doesn't beat me to it, THREE...Mary will murder me if I French her, TWO...will have to give her the friendly cousin kiss on the lips, ONE..here goes nothing. MIDNIGHT.

He had circled his arm around her waist and pressed a single, impersonal kiss on her lips, not the cop out of a kiss on the cheek, but no tongue action either. The best he could come up with under the circumstances, with half the room watching. She had looked at him with so much surprise, then obvious relief. That had hurt a bit, the relief. Was the thought of a kiss from him so repulsive? And then she made the comment, tossed out without thinking, like she often did. Is that all you have? Marshall felt a rush of anger. No, that wasn't all he had. His chance to show her had been stolen from him. She was walking away from him, but he decided on the spot, that Mary Shannon was going to see what Marshall Mann had to offer in the way of kissing. And she was going to be very surprised indeed.

He walked down the hallway to get some air and try to calm down, pointedly ignoring Hinson's commentary. He was vibrating with anger towards Hinson and hurt towards Mary. He and Hinson had almost come to blows some months back, words had been exchanged. Hinson had felt robbed of some of the glory that was his due as lead on the operation. Accusations of cowardice had been leveled because Marshall had not wanted to charge into a situation guns blazing, felt that talking would be more effective for this person. Every time he had seen the man since, some snide comment regarding courage, cowardice or his manhood had been made. Marshall had made the right call on the original situation and Hinson was trying to embarrass him at every opportunity.

His feelings towards Mary at this moment were more ephemeral. He felt them slipping through his fingers each time he tried to grasp one and examine it. There was definite hurt, but why? Mary was being Mary. She was hugely embarrassed by being subject to all that attention, to having all those curious people watch while he kissed her. Did that warrant her comment, though, the comment that was so hurtful to him? Is that all you have? Maybe the hurt came from her doubt of his ability. He knew she didn't say it out of malice, there was too much relief in her face for it to be malicious. Did she really think he couldn't deliver a kiss that kills? He straightened his shoulders. Well, he would show her.

He came back and waited for her to make her escape, as he knew she would. He had walked through the winter wonderland ballroom earlier, and had been quite impressed with all the decorations, but also with how quiet it was. Not many people were in there. Firmly taking Mary's arm when she came towards the exit, he had steered her into the ballroom, blocking her attempts to pull free, ignoring the increasingly poisonous looks she was shooting his way. He had forced her down on the bench next to him, strategically placing his body so she couldn't pull away from him. He was very familiar with all her defensive and offensive moves and was prepared for any she might use on him. He had to check a grin as he felt her stifle the impulse to pull her arm free. He couldn't help but admire her. She knew she couldn't break his grasp through sheer force and accepted that, not allowing the embarrassment of trying and failing.

He had planned his approach, a swiftly pulled together Plan B. He was not going to kiss her until she asked him to. He was fairly confident he could bring her to that point. Years of studying women had its payoffs. Not that Mary was your standard woman. But he had been studying her since they had been partnered. He had a gut feel for what she would respond to. And it wasn't what she would have said, had she been asked. Marshall had a feeling that few men had ever taken a slow, sensuous approach with her. Lovemaking should not be a race to the finish line. It should be a stroll of discovery. And he dearly wanted to discover her. Question is: does she want to discover me?

And then he had kissed her. The object of so many late night dreams. And only after she requested he do so. Marshall knew a thing or two about seduction. And she had responded to him, responded to him so eagerly. She felt so soft in his arms and when she opened her mouth to him, he had almost groaned. It felt so good, her mouth moving under his felt good, her arms clinging around his neck felt good, her breasts pressed against his chest felt heavenly, her firm ass under his hand felt good, her long legs against his felt good. There wasn't one part of his body that wasn't in nirvana. As things started to ratchet up to the next level, he knew he would have to stop, almost could have cried when he broke the kiss and rested his forehead against hers. His body was begging for the next level, thrumming with want. Wanted so badly to feel her bare skin under his fingers, to touch her, to...He heaved a shaky sigh.

He heard her ragged breathing, as well as his own pounding in his ears. When she touched his face, so gently and asked what had just happened, the truth had spilled out of him. I'm showing you how I feel. And then she had asked him to take her home.

What did that mean? Was she trying to escape from him? Had he ruined any chance he had? Was she appalled at the way she responded to him? She had responded to him. Was she regretting it all? Insecurity ripped through him. He focused on the floor and miserably nodded agreement.