A/N: Thank-you for those who have reviewed – glad you are enjoying! Standard disclaimer; own nothing related to IPS…
Technically, could she be woken up if she hadn't actually gone to sleep? It felt that way, and yet she knew she hadn't dozed off. She'd have to ask Marshall.
It was her cell phone that did it. It was sitting on the nightstand as she stared into oblivion, as she'd been doing since 5:30 when Brandi and Peter had finally gone home. Images of her father, old photographs, a younger, more drunken Jinx, a wailing baby Brandi and torn up letters floated across her vision for five uninterrupted hours. It wasn't until 9:00 that the cell started vibrating and she noticed just how much of the sun had already started to stream through her windows. A new day – a new dawn.
She groped without trying to move too much. Despite not resting, she had finally managed to get comfortable with all the Braxton hicks – wasn't that what they were called? – and didn't want to upset the sensation any further. Her fingers curled around the shaking and she pulled it to her.
"Hello?" she said groggily. Her mouth was so dry she could hardly swallow without wincing.
"Mary-Mary, quite contrary," sang Stan's voice. "How are we this morning?"
"How are we?" she snapped, irritable from lack-of-sleep.
"How are you?" he managed to correct himself.
"Awful, thank-you," she responded in kind. "What's up?"
"Well, I hate to bother you…"
"Clearly," she said sarcastically, shifting onto her elbow.
"But a couple of your witnesses could use some tending to; I tried to pass them on to Marshall in light of the circumstances…"
"Wait, what?" she demanded, anger rising just knowing that they had taken their coddling to this level. "You were going to give my witnesses to Marshall – just because my dirt bag father is back in town…"
"No," Stan interrupted. "You'll have to give some of them up when you take your maternity leave. You're full-term Mary; the baby could come any day…"
"Stan, I told you!" she shouted, heart beginning to race just thinking about having to explain again. "I am not taking a maternity leave! This is not maternity – I am not maternal! I am not a mother; not now, not ever! It is a waste of time to sit around after this thing is purged from the-!"
"Okay," Stan said sharply. "Shut up; you're going to give yourself hypertension."
"Did you just tell me to shut up?"
"The point is!" Stan's voice rose; clearly, he was becoming desperate in getting his message across. "You'll notice I said I tried to get Marshall to take on the extra witnesses but he wouldn't do it. Therefore, I need you to come in when it's convenient."
He sighed; Mary could actually picture him sitting in his office, strung-out from all the frustration she was causing him. She kind of enjoyed it.
"When it's convenient?" she finally repeated, glancing at the alarm clock to make sure of the time.
"That's what I said. But I want to make this very clear Mary, whatever it is that they need, you are not going out in the field," Stan said sternly.
"I know the drill Stan…"
"I'm serious, Mary. And I'm not going to pretend this is just about the kind of inquiry we would get if you were injured in the line of duty while you're nine months pregnant. I will not have you getting hurt."
"Yeah-yeah," she said with a groan as she rolled herself out of bed.
A most peculiar sensation passed through her middle once she was upright. It was as though a watermelon had fallen through the lower half of her stomach. Her grip on the phone slipped, but she managed to hang on. Instinctually, she put a hand to her belly and took a deep breath. What the hell? She tried to rationalize – the baby could not just fall out.
It took her a minute before she realized that Stan was still talking.
"Mary? Hello? Are you still there?"
She pushed it out of her mind for the time being. What was to be gained from dwelling? She was just the oven anyway.
"What?" she snapped, a little harsher than she intended. But Stan's chirping was getting irritating.
"Have you been paying attention?"
"Actually, I was looking for my feet. They seem to have disappeared. Think you could put on an APD on that?"
"Marshall will be by in an hour to pick you up," Stan informed her, ignoring her remark.
"Jesus, Stan! Give me a break! I can drive myself!" Mary barked irritably.
What was the matter with these people? It was as though the person she really was had completely faded from their minds just because she was lugging another one along. It was bugging the hell out of her.
Stan didn't seem to care, however.
"You know, I thought about you being your own escort – God knows it would give Marshall a break – but I was considering your ability to get in and out of the Probe. Think you can manage?"
He'd won. He knew it.
"I hate you."
"Copy that. See you in sixty, inspector."
A/N: This is maybe my favorite chapter. Not much happening, but the dialogue really flowed for me. Hope you all agree!
