Finally feel like I'm getting ahead of this story! I have another chapter ready to post after this, and the sixth chapter is being banged out right now. It's funny, because usually I post a chapter and it takes me weeks to post another. I've wanted to put a bit of distance between posting this chapter and the last, but I'm just having so much fun with this story! So read on and enjoy!

Disclaimer: Not mine!

IPSIPSIPSIPS

I'd walk across this world just to be

Close to you, cause I want you close to me

-Faith Hill, Just To Hear You Say That You Love Me

Mary made it to Vivian's apartment in under ten minutes, a record even for her. She barely remembered to turn the engine off before she got out of the car and raced into the building. Vivian was on the second floor of a relatively nice apartment complex, courtesy of the job Mary had helped her get. Reaching Vivian's apartment, she reached out and slammed her hand against the door.

Vivian opened the door a few moments later. "You're here."

"Of course I am." She shoved her way into Vivian's apartment. "What do you know about the shootings?"

Vivian closed the door and locked it. "Not a lot."

"I swear to God, Vivian, if you are yanking my chain…"

She didn't miss the dangerous look on Mary's face, and she quickly interrupted the angry blond. "I'm not, Mary. Honest." She crossed her arms over her chest protectively. "I think someone is following me."

"What? Who?"

"My old boyfriend."

Mary scowled. Vivian could be difficult, but her ex-boyfriend was trouble. With a gambling problem and God only knew what else, Mary had tried to discourage Vivian early on from seeing him. But having stars in her eyes and sweet nothings whispered into her ear, she had refused. It was only when the loser hit her that Vivian finally came to her senses and left him. She had stayed in a hotel for a few days until Mary decided it was safe enough for Vivian to return home.

"I've been getting weird calls, and when I was out grocery shopping the other day, I swear I saw his old truck."

"What does that have to do with the shootings, Vivian?"

"He was crazy in love with me, and you made me see the light about him."

Mary's eyes darkened ever so slightly. "No. He's not that stupid."

"Maybe, but I think he would go pretty far to try to get me back." Vivian uncrossed her arms. "He might even try to hurt you or your partner."

Swearing, Mary pulled out her phone and dialed Stan's number. Even if Vivian was dead wrong, she wasn't going to gamble with Marshall's life.

Stan's weary voice came on the line after three rings. "What's up, Mary?"

"I can't go into detail right now, Stan, but I want a 24 hour protective detail put on Marshall, right now. No one goes into that room except his family and us."

He didn't argue with her. "Got it."

"Thanks, Stan." Slightly relieved, she ended the call and slid her phone back into her pocket. Then she returned her attention to Vivian.

"I heard about your partner. I'm sorry about that," Vivian offered.

"He's going to be fine," Mary insisted with a wave of her hand. "But whoever did this won't be."

Vivian gave her a questioning look.

"This hump opened fire on a cop's funeral. The first bullet hit me, and four more would have, too. But my partner… Marshall grabbed me and took the bullets himself." Mary absently rubbed the tender area that was starting to ache.

Vivian ran her hands through her hair. "I'm sorry."

"Not as sorry as your rat ex is going to be if he did this," Mary assured her.

Not nearly as sorry.

Mary spent Wednesday and Thursday searching for Vivian's ex, to no avail. He wasn't using credit cards, and she was ready to kick in the doors of every sleazebag hotel within a one hundred mile radius.

During the day, she stayed on the road and tried not to let the memories of Marshall in a hospital bed overwhelm her thoughts. At night, she spoke with his mother, and it was always the same. Marshall wasn't improving, but he wasn't getting any worse, either. Mary didn't know if that was a good or bad thing. Normally, Marshall would have been the one to explain it to her, but he wasn't there.

Stan kept two officers outside of Marshall's room at all times, and he was there himself whenever he could manage it. What concerned him was that Mary wasn't there. When Marshall had been shot during a witness transport, Mary had kept him as safe as she could and gotten him to safety before she went after her witness again. Then she went to the hospital and stayed there until Marshall was released almost a week later. She was possessive and protective of him, and Stan had a very bad feeling about all of this.

Friday afternoon, Anna was sitting by her son's bed, reading aloud to him from one of his favorite novels, Moby Dick. She was halfway through the book when one of the monitors by Marshall's bed suddenly went off. Dropping the book, she hurried to her son's side.

"Nurse! I need help in here!"

Stan reached the hospital in record time after he received Seth's call. All he knew was that Marshall was not well, and Mary wasn't answering her phone. He tried one more time after parking, and when she didn't answer, he went into the hospital and up to the I.C.U.

Seth was holding Anna when Stan approached, and Stan's face fell.

"Is he…?"

Seth shook his head. "No, he's still hanging on, but his doctor thinks he's giving up. He's just not fighting like he should be, and they can't figure out why."

Sudden understanding dawned in Stan's eyes. Why hadn't he thought of it before? As far as he knew, Mary had only been in the room once, and for all he knew, she didn't say a word. How stupid he had been for not realizing it sooner!

Anna saw his expression change. "What is it?"

He shook his head. "I'm going to get his partner in here."

Christopher had been standing close enough to hear the conversation, and he frowned. "Are you sure that's a good idea?"

"I have no idea, but it's the only thing we haven't tried." He pulled his phone out again. "I'm going to get her in here if I have to have Highway Patrol pick her up." Walking away from the group, he dialed Mary's number again.

Mary was just walking to her car when her phone went off again. Sighing, she retrieved it and held it up to her ear. "What is it, Stan?"

"You need to get to the hospital. Now."

"What? What's going on, Stan?" Panic crept into her when all she heard was silence on the other end. She called Stan's name again, but he didn't answer. Swearing, she jumped into her car and flew back to the hospital, silently saying Marshall's name over and over again like a mantra.

When she finally reached the hospital, she practically ran to the I.C.U. She had no idea what she would find, but she had to see Marshall.

Stan saw her first, and he caught her elbow as she raced past him. "Mary!"

Mary spun around, her eyes burning. "What? Is he okay?"

"He's hanging on right now, Mary. He had a scare earlier, but he's starting to settle down."

She let out a soft breath, but her panic didn't abate.

"Mary, how many times have you actually been in there?"

"What?"

"Answer me, Inspector. How many times have you been in Marshall's room?"

Mary looked away for a moment. "Once. Right after his first surgery."

Pieces were falling into place, and it was just as Stan had thought. "Mary, his doctors say he's not fighting, not like he should. He's letting the machine breathe for him. He's not doing any of the work."

"He's weak right now, Stan-"

"I don't think that's it." He squeezed her elbow slightly. "Mary, the last time he saw you, you had been shot. For all he knows, you died at the funeral service."

Mary froze completely. Oh, Marshall..

"He doesn't respond to his family or me. I think he believes you're dead, and he's giving up."

"Why? Why would he do that? He has too much to live for!"

"Then go in there and tell him that! Tell him anything! Just… go in there and sit with him." Stan stared at his inspector, the woman he viewed as a daughter. Marshall and Mary were closer than any other partners he had ever seen in his career. If Marshall didn't respond to her, he had no idea what he would respond to. They had to at least try.

For once, Mary had no snide comeback, no sneer or demeaning words. She simply nodded, exchanging a look with Stan before she ducked into Marshall's room.

Anna approached Stan as the door closed. "Do you think she can help my boy?"

"I truly hope so, Anna." If Mary couldn't help Marshall, then no one else could.

Mary closed the door behind herself and approached Marshall's bed cautiously. He looked about the same as he had the last time she had been in this room, or maybe she was so desperate for him to be okay that her mind was playing tricks on her.

"Marshall," she whispered as she finally reached the bed. "Marshall, what are you doing?" Her hand settled gently on his arm, the only place on his body she wasn't afraid to touch. "Your doctors are saying that you're giving up. What the hell is that about?"

The respirator by his bed hissed, and his chest rose and fell in sync with the sound.

Reaching behind herself, Mary dragged a chair as close to his bed as she could possibly get it. Then she sat down, keeping her hand on his arm. "Stan seems to think you're doing this because of me. I think you're trying to get attention. Well, you have my attention. I'm here." Finding the shooter would have to wait, at least for a little while, if it meant helping Marshall survive this. She would rather risk the chance of not catching him than let her partner die, if Stan and the doctors were right and he was giving up because he thought that she was dead. "So let me know what you need." Her hand moved down his arm to slide into his hand.

"Don't leave me, Marshall, or I swear to God, I'll follow you and kick your ass all over eternity." Raising her free hand, she ran her fingertips lightly over his forehead in an uncharacteristic gesture of affection and reassurance.

"I'm not going anywhere."

Two hours later, Mary hadn't emerged from Marshall's room. Concerned, Anna finally opened the door and was treated to a touching and reassuring sight.

Mary was sitting by Marshall's bed. Her head was resting on his shoulder, and her hand was clutching his fiercely. Even asleep, she seemed determined to protect him.

With a soft smile, Anna slowly backed out of the room, reassured that her son was being well-cared for.

"Sleep well, you two."

For the rest of the night, Stan, Seth and Anna took turns checking on Mary and Marshall, along with the medical staff. The nurses were still concerned, and one even made the mistake of trying to wake Mary and shoo her from the room. Stan put a stop to that, telling all of the medical staff that Mary was Marshall's protective detail and was not to be asked to leave. One of the nurses puffed up at that, but once Stan explained who he was and the situation they were in, she begrudgingly accepted it. Another nurse even thought it was sweet, and by dawn, Marshall's vitals were finally beginning to stabilize, much to everyone's relief.

Mary awoke around nine, and for a moment, couldn't remember where she was. Then she felt the warmth beneath her and the hand in hers, and it all came flooding back. She had been with Marshall since the previous afternoon, and for the first time since the shooting, she had actually slept through the night.

Slowly sitting up, Mary yawned. Her hand was tucked into Marshall's, and when she tried to remove it, she was shocked when his fingers closed weakly around hers.

"Marshall?" She leaned over, studying his face for any sign that he was waking up. "Marshall, can you hear me?"

His face remained impassive, his features relaxed.

Sighing, she resigned herself to the belief that it was just a reflex, not a sign that he was coming back to her. She started to pull her hand away again, and once more, Marshall held tightly to it. Mary watched his face again.

"What are you doing, Doofus? I'm not going anywhere." She rested her free hand on his forehead. "Is that what you're afraid of? That I'm going to leave?" Mary sighed softly. "Marshall, you saved my life. You shouldn't have, but you took the bullets that were meant for me. And a long time ago, you told me that if you save someone's life, you become responsible for that person. But you've always been responsible for me. You can't stop now." Her thumb lightly stroke his forehead. "I'd be lost without you, Marshall. I'm a selfish bitch, but I'm not letting you give up. Not now, not ever."

Without letting go of his hand, Mary sat back down by his bed and let out a slow breath.

"Not ever."

An hour later, Anna and Seth slipped into Marshall's room. Mary looked up when the door opened, and her free hand instinctively went to her gun.

Anna smiled at Mary. "Hi, sweetheart. I brought you breakfast."

"Thanks, Anna, but I'm not-"

She waved a hand dismissively. "You need to eat, Mary."

Mary looked at Marshall. His grip was still firm on her hand, and she hesitated to let go.

Seeing this, Anna tipped her head curiously. "Mary? Are you okay?"

"Yeah. I'm fine." Maybe with his mother in the room, he would let go of her hand. Slowly, she started to pull her hand out of his, only to feel Marshall tighten his grip. She sighed. "Marshall, this is getting ridiculous."

Both Seth and Anna looked to her. "Is he waking up?" Anna demanded.

"No, I don't think so. Ever since I woke up, he hasn't let go of my hand." She waved Anna and Seth over with her free hand, then once again attempted to free the hand Marshall held. And once more, his grip tightened.

Anna's eyes widened with amazement. "It was you," she whispered.

"What are you talking about?"

"Mary, he was giving up. His doctors were preparing us for the worst. Then you came in…"

Mary blushed. "He can be a stubborn jackass when he wants something."

Seth laughed, discreetly swiping at his eyes. "You're right about that."

Taking the plate that Anna offered, Mary balanced it on her leg and used her free hand to dig her fork into a pile of scrambled eggs. "You're lucky, Doofus," she muttered. "I'm starving." She stuck a bite of the eggs into her mouth.

Laughing, Anna kissed Mary's head, then Marshall's.

Her boy was going to be okay.

Before Mary finished the breakfast that Anna had brought to her, Marshall's primary nurse, Sheila, came into the room. Anna liked Sheila, but Mary hadn't met her, and she reflexively tensed and set the plate aside with the hand that Marshall wasn't clutching.

Sheila offered Mary a bright smile. "Well, you must be Mary. It's nice to finally meet you. I'm Sheila, Marshall's day nurse."

Mary nodded. "I'm his partner."

"I've heard. His mother told me all about you." She began checking Marshall's vitals. "His vitals have really improved since yesterday."

That made Mary smile. "He's not used to getting his way with me."

Sheila looked up at the cryptic message. "What do you mean?"

Mary had spent her whole life trusting her gut instinct, and right now, it was telling her that Sheila could be trusted. She wouldn't harm Marshall. "Watch." Moving carefully, she attempted to withdraw her hand from Marshall's. And just as before, his fingers tightened around hers, refusing to release her.

Sheila raised an eyebrow. "Interesting. It could be a reflex."

Anna scoffed.

"Or he could be attempting to wake up. I'm going to increase his sedation-"

"Why?" Mary demanded, her mouth twisting into a scowl.

"He's recovering from surgery to remove four bullets from his body. The pain is going to be unbearable, and right now he's still too weak to breathe on his own." Sheila adjusted one of the machines. "We want to keep him as comfortable as possible, and for the moment, that means keeping him asleep." She looked at Mary and Marshall's entwined hands. "I know it's hard to believe, but he's come a long way in just a few days." In fact, today was the first day that Sheila thought he might not die. "He just has to come a little further."

"What can I do for him?" Mary focused her gaze on their hands. Her thumb absently began caressing Marshall's knuckles.

"Keep doing exactly what you're doing." Because whatever this woman was doing, it was working. "Talk to him, hold his hand, just let him know that you're here with him."

Anna leaned against Mary's chair and watched her son. She knew her little boy better than anyone else, and she could see that this woman was good for him.

Sheila finished her check of her patient, then made a few notes on his chart. "He's improving. But if you notice anything that concerns you, just hit the call button."

"We'll do that," Anna assured her.

"Great." Sheila left the room, and as the door closed, Anna squeezed Mary's shoulder.

"You heard Sheila. He's doing better."

"I'll be okay when he opens his eyes, Anna." And that was the truth. When she saw those sleepy cerulean eyes, she could relax and know that he would be okay.

"I understand." She motioned to the abandoned plate. "Why don't you try to finish your breakfast?"

Mary shook her head. "I've eaten all I can. Thank you." She was unusually polite and patient, but her concern for Marshall took the place of her usual aggression and sarcasm.

"Okay, honey." Squeezing Mary's shoulder, Anna took the only empty chair in the room and dragged it up to the head of the bed, opposite Mary. Sitting down in it, she placed her hand on her son's forehead and lightly stroked his brow.

Mary watched the tender way Anna touched her son, and she was glad that Marshall had such good memories to cushion the harsh reality of life. Her gaze settled on their hands, and she gently squeezed his fingers.

Her heart leapt in her chest when he squeezed back.

Vivian had just returned from her usual run, and she wiped the sweat from her brow as she grabbed her mail and headed into her apartment building. She was thinking about everything she had told Mary, replaying the conversation over and over in her mind. Mary was a tough woman, and even harder to get close to. In fact, the only person Vivian had seen Mary treat with real respect and affection, even if she didn't mean to, was Marshall Mann.

As she sorted through her mail and reached for her keys, she didn't notice anything unusual about her surroundings. She retrieved the correct key (Mary liked to tease her about having enough keys to be a custodian) and slid it into the lock.

Down the hall, a young woman was just exiting her own apartment when she heard the ear-splitting explosion. The force sent her to her knees, and the heat made her eyes water. Her ears rang violently as she coughed and forced herself to her hands and knees, then crawled back into her apartment for her phone and dialed 911.

"I need help. I think a bomb just went off in my apartment building…"

Around four p.m., Anna reluctantly left with Seth to get dinner. She promised to bring Mary something to eat as well, despite Mary's argument that she didn't need anything. She appreciated and even enjoyed Anna's presence, but she was looking forward to a few minutes alone with her wounded partner.

The door finally closed, and Mary let out a slow breath. She was not used to entertaining people, but she didn't want to be rude to Anna. She almost laughed at that. Anyone else, she would have ignored. But she didn't have it in her to do that to Marshall's family.

She leaned back in her chair, frowning when she moved her fingers in Marshall's and he didn't react. Whatever Sheila had given him, it was strong. With a sigh, she sat up again and rested her elbow on Marshall's bed.

"Hey, pal. I thought you should know that your mom is giving me all kinds of dirt on you." She watched his face for a reaction of any kind before continuing. "She says she's going to bring pictures for me to look at. I just know she's got one of you naked on a bearskin rug."

A small smile curved her lips as she absently brushed back an errant strand of hair off his forehead. "I don't know if you can even hear any of this, but you once told me that people who have been hurt worse than you came out of it and could remember everything their family and friends told them. So I like to think I'm not just wasting my breath."

Then again, she had never considered talking to him a waste of anything. Her fingers moved lightly through his thick hair.

The door swung open, and in a split second Mary had her gun out and trained on the intruder.

Jinx Shannon frowned at her oldest daughter. "Mary, sweetheart, what on earth are you doing?"

Mary scowled and tucked her gun away. "I should be asking you that. No one is allowed in here right now except me and his family."

Jinx waved her hand. "One of the nurses let me come in. I just needed to talk to you for a second in the hall."

"I don't think so." Marshall was finally improving, and she had no interest in leaving him, even for a second.

"It's important, sweetheart," Jinx insisted with a pout.

"No, Mom. Nothing is as important as my partner right now," Mary snapped.

Jinx's eyes widened. She wasn't used to such a belligerent attitude from her oldest daughter. Crocodile tears gathered in her eyes. "Not even me and your sister?"

"Are either of you recovering from being shot multiple times?"

"No, but-"

"Then no, you're not as important right now. Deal with it, Mom." Mary turned back to Marshall.

"How dare you…"

Stan suddenly entered the room, breathless and clearly distressed. "Mary, we have a big problem."

"What?"

"A 911 call just came from Vivian Callahan's apartment building. There was an explosion."

Jinx was still pouting, but she had the sense to leave the hospital room.

Reluctantly Mary released Marshall's hand. Then she stood up and faced Stan. "What happened? Is Vivian okay?" She had a bad feeling in her gut, and she couldn't help thinking that this had something to do with Vivian calling her and telling her about her ex.

Stan shook his head slowly. "No, Mary. Vivian was killed in the blast."

Slowly Mary sat back down in her chair. "Oh, God…"

"Yeah. You have something to tell me?"

She rubbed her hand roughly over her face. "Vivian called me Tuesday, claiming she had information about the shooting."

"And you didn't tell me? Jesus, Mary…"

"She thought that her ex might somehow be responsible. Apparently he blames me for Vivian dumping him."

Stan remembered the lowlife. "So he shoots up a funeral and a crime scene?"

"I think he was trying to take me out, then make it look like he wasn't trying for one target." Unfortunately Marshall had gotten caught in the crossfire, and now he was lying in a hospital bed and fighting for his life.

"And you didn't tell me any of this."

"No, because I was trying to catch the son of a bitch myself."

Stan rubbed the back of his neck. "And now Vivian is dead. You know I have to suspend you for this, Mary."

"Suspend me?" Mary shot to her feet, pulling Stan out of Marshall's room and into the hall. "Stan, you can't suspend me. I have to find this son of a bitch before he takes another shot at anyone." If it really was Vivian's ex doing this, he had no problems with collateral damage while trying to take her out.

"I don't have a choice!" He sighed. "Look, Mary, everyone in the office is on this. I even called Dershowitz, and he's working around the clock. We'll get this mutt. But as of right now, you are suspended." He hoped that she would take it as an opportunity to sit with her partner and focus on him.

Mary's look turned dangerous, but finally she reached down and unclipped her badge from her pants. Then she handed it to her boss.

"I'm sorry…"

She held a hand up and shook her head. "Don't." Then she looked down the hall, where Jinx was still waiting. "Keep her out of my partner's room." She stalked back into Marshall's room, but took care not to slam the door behind herself.

Stan watched her go. Then he tucked her badge into his pocket with a resigned sigh.

"Sorry, Mary."

Back in Marshall's room, Mary paced around for a while before she finally sat down. But instead of sitting in the uncomfortable chair that had unofficially become hers, she perched herself delicately on the bed, beside Marshall's waist. Then she reached out and lightly touched his cheek.

"Don't worry, Marshall. I'm going to get the bastard who put you here, if it's the last thing that I do."

To Be Continued...

A/N: I'm trying to keep Mary as in character as possible, and I thought that this conversation between her and Jinx was very much in character. But in the next chapter and even further, we'll see a tender side of Mary that only comes out with Marshall. The next chapter is a little shorter, but probably the most intense, and I have it ready to post. So send in those reviews, people, and let me know what ya'll think! Thanks for reading!