A/N: Everyone seemed to like the Morrigan, and I'm so glad. She's a great favorite of mine among my mythological folk. I thought she fit, and I'm glad so many of you see that connection for Mary, too. Thanks for being such a great readership.
Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter,
In there stepped a stately raven of the saintly days of yore;
Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he;
But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door
Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door
Perched, and sat, and nothing more.
"The Raven" – E.A. Poe
Max helped her out of the costume and they put it back on the mannequin. "I think you'd better come here to get dressed tomorrow night so I can help you get into the costume and get everything arranged properly. She's a bit tricky to handle on one's own." He rested his hand on the glass case, and he looked up at the gleaming ebony goddess now in repose.
Mary nodded, following his gaze. "I absolutely agree. I would also feel much better about wearing that if it didn't have to be out of your hands longer than necessary. Plus, this way, there's no chance of Marshall seeing it by accident between now and the Masque."
Max smiled. "Good. So everything is arranged. If you will come here about an hour before you are supposed to go to the Masque, I will transform you into the Phantom Queen, and you can go and win your bet." He closed the case and turned the key. The mask seemed to watch them from its perch on the mannequin's head as they walked away.
---
Brandi and she chatted as they were driving away. "Mary, you looked absolutely incredible in that costume!"
Mary smiled. She was really, truly pleased with it. It was the first time that she could ever remember actually enjoying the thought of going to one of these things since she was maybe four years old, and she knew the ebony richness hanging in Max's glass case was a big part of why. As for the other part.... Her smile widened into a wicked grin. "I bet Marshall won't be expecting that to walk in...."
Brandi laughed. "Oh, definitely not. He's probably going to be looking for something more along the lines of the paisley bedsheet." They were about to pass the exit for the mall when Brandi spoke again.
"Hey, Mary, look. Could we stop off here for a few minutes? I need to run in and pick up something."
Mary groaned, but Brandi cut off her protestations, "I'll be really fast, I promise, and besides, I did just save your ass." Mary had to concede the point, so she switched lanes quickly, cutting off a few drivers, and exited to the palace of dread, the mall.
Inside, Brandi quickly popped into a small clothing store to pick up a dress she'd had on hold for a party she was going to herself the following evening. She came out holding the long bag, and Mary rose with relief from the bench where she'd been uneasily watching mothers dragging sticky-faced toddlers by the hand toward or away from the nearby toy store.
"Got it then? Can we just get the hell out of here now? This place give me the creeps."
Brandi smiled at her and draped the bag over her arm gently. "Yeah...except, oh, wait, no. Actually, there is one more place I need to go." She smiled her most charming and coaxing smile.
Mary's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Where? If it involves shoes or jewelry, you can flat damn forget it."
"Oh, no. I promise. No shoes. No jewelry. It's just right down there...." Brandi gestured vaguely toward the end of the mall. There were only three stores, a large entertainment shop, a card and gift store, and....Victoria's Secret.
"Brandi, tell me you need a CD."
"Come on. It won't kill you. Besides, based on what I saw at Max's, you need something to go under that costume, too." Brandi grabbed Mary's hand and began to drag her down the middle of the mall just like the frazzled mothers with their cranky two-year olds. Mary suddenly had a new sympathy for the shrieking children as they neared the store and frills and lace began to engulf her....
---
Inside the lingerie shop, Mary felt as if she'd stepped across into a parallel universe. She certainly understood what all these things were, but she could not understand the concept of so many of them, why anybody would willingly spend multiple hours shopping for them, or why anybody would want them to be so...so...decorative....
I mean, come on.... So yeah, okay, this one is pretty, she thought, lifting a red lace bra from a table. However, if I wore this to work and then had to run down some criminal, I would be bouncing and flying all over the place. It's just not practical. And as for recreation...well, who keeps them on long enough? I mean, hell, if you're doing it right, isn't the point to get them off?
Brandi was picking out a strapless bra from a wall rack. She turned to watch her sister pondering the red lace lingerie, and she shook her head.
"No, Mary. That's really pretty and all, but what you need to go under the Morrigan is something black, something with support that lifts you up...."
"Wait, something that 'lifts me up'? What the hell, Brandi? You make it sound like I'm a fall-down building that needs scaffolding or something. And you'd damn well better watch how you respond to that. We're a long way from home."
"You know very well what I mean. That costume has a low neckline. It was made to show off the girls." She made a flouncy little gesture near her chest, and Mary winced both at the gesture and at the phrase, "the girls." " You have them. For the love of God, show them off for once."
Mary glowered at her sister, but still hesitated. "I...I don't know..."
"Look. Think of it as like a part of the costume. It's something you would never do normally, right?"
"Right," Mary said uneasily. She didn't like logic suddenly coming out of Brandi's mouth. It was unnatural, disquieting, as if the world had been set on its head somehow....
"Then it will help you hide from Marshall, right?"
"Umm....maybe so..." Mary turned back to the racks of lingerie in confusion. Damn. She has a point. Hate that she has a point because not only does that mean I'm going to have to try this fluff on, it also means I'm going to have to wear it tomorrow night.... Brandi walked over and pulled a black satin and lace bra off the rack and handed it to her.
"Go try this. I think it will do the job." She shooed Mary toward the dressing room and turned back to her own shopping.
----
It had much more than "done the job." When Brandi had forced her way into the dressing room a few minutes later, Mary had been staring at her chest in astonishment.
Okay, so I've seen a push-up bra before. Hell, I own one or two...somewhere....I think..... But this, this is....
"Well, ...that's quite impressive. I think you'll fill out the front of that tunic quite nicely now. The law enforcement community is going to be getting an eyeful."
"You'll want to shut up about that now, Brandi." I feel like one of those "Engineering Marvels" on TV. It's all me, but I'm not usually quite this cinched up and in. Geez... She tugged lightly at the bottom band, trying to get used to the new image of herself in the mirror. That person in the mirror is SO not Marshal Mary Shannon....
Brandi laughed. "Sure. Whatever. But...get that one. Oh," she pulled out a tiny swatch of satin and lace from behind her back. "And while you're trying things on? Here are the matching panties." She tossed them at Mary and retreated safely beyond the door as Mary lunged at her.
Mary had decided to buy the lingerie. Brandi was right. If Max was going to loan her the costume, she should at least have something appropriate to go under it. She ran her fingers over the satin. It really was lovely, she admitted to herself. The satin had a slightly iridescent sheen to it that reminded her of the eyes of the Morrigan mask, and the lace was trimmed with little flecks of silver. The matching panties were much more silvery lace than shimmery satin, and she'd felt wicked and somehow powerful with them on. Well, he did say she's the Phantom Queen of magic.
As she stood at the register waiting to check out, she sighed. I am going to have to come up with something really good as a prize for this bet to make Marshall pay for this trip alone.... Her mood began to brighten. Maybe it can even have something to do with this underwear.... Images ranging from the amusing (Marshall being forced to wear it, maybe even at the office) to much more intimate scenarios (Marshall slowly removing it with his teeth as a prelude to a night of making all those little fantasies she'd been having come true) played across her mind, and by the time she handed the teenager behind the counter her check card, she was in a very good mood indeed.
---
The rest of that evening and the next day passed in a blur, and soon it was time to get ready for the Masque. Marshall dropped her off home, and for a moment as he sat at the curb with the engine idling, he just looked at her.
"Are you sure you want to keep this bet on for tonight, Mare," he asked gently, reaching out a hand to push a few strands of hair away from her cheek.
She grinned, thinking of silver lace and a blackshafted spear. "Oh yes. Very sure. Why? You're not getting cold feet on me are you? Not afraid you're going to wind up as my personal little slave boy? I do have some very specific plans for you, you know...."
The smile that slipped over his lips was intimate, wicked, and he leaned across the center console to catch her mouth in a quick, hot, kiss. "Oh, Mary, remarks like that are dangerous, dangerous...and have been known to backfire...."
She was undaunted. "No deal, partner. A bet is a bet. I'll be seeing you sometime tonight before the unmasking." She smirked at him, tangled her fingers in his hair and pulled him forward for one more quick kiss, and then was out of the Tahoe and down the sidewalk to her house.
Marshall watched her go, taking a moment to savor the feeling of her mouth still tingling against his. "You can count on it, Mary. You can count on it," he murmured to himself. He smiled, cranked the engine, and drove off to finish his own preparations. He was eager for the night to come and the hunt to begin. He already knew exactly what he was going to ask for when he won.
---
Mary arrived at Max's at the designated hour, Brandi having dropped her off. She was struck again by the simple functionality of his work and living quarters. Max was waiting for her, and they went directly in to the huge storage wardrobe to get the Morrigan from her case. As they walked, Mary noticed two or three of the other glass cases were also missing their occupants. She tried to remember what costumes had graced the now bare mannequin forms, but for the most part, they had all run together in her mind as a blur of color and light.
"Um, Max, looks like you've been ransacked here," she said, guessing that others had come to Max for his expertise in costuming.
Max looked at one of the empty cases they were passing before turning to give her a fond smile. "Yes. I suppose it rather does at that. Of course, a more fanciful mind might say that my creations have made their escape, gone out to play for the evening." Humor sparkled deep in his eyes, and Mary had the odd sensation of being left out of a private joke. "Well, I wouldn't worry too much about it, Mary Shannon. I suspect they will wear themselves out before too long and come along home soon. You will probably see some of them tonight, in fact. Let us just hope they all try to behave themselves...."
Riiight. Well, okay, everybody who's brilliant is a little eccentric, right? And let's face it, she thought as they came to a stop before the case where the Morrigan stood in regal elegance, drawing in and conquering the light like a black star sapphire, when it comes to this, apparently this man is a god....
They carefully removed the costume from its case and carried it out to the dressing area. Mary began to get ready. She had put on her new lingerie after taking her shower, and although she'd felt silly in the car on the way over in her jeans and t-shirt, as the heavy black tunic slipped over her body and Max came in to tighten the laces in the back, her feelings changed. Damn, Brandi was right. She studied her reflection in the mirror. A wicked grin crept over her features. Marshall isn't even going to be able to speak when he sees this.
Mary was going to the Masque in a taxi from Max's. Ha! I'm not in WITSEC for nothing! I'm not losing this bet by stepping out of that damn Probe in this costume. I know my partner, and he's sneaky enough to be watching the parking lot.... She slipped on the soft leather boots, and sat down to put on her makeup at the table in Max's dressing area.
Max came in to check on her progress. "If I may make a suggestion about your hair...." This was said from near the entry space to the area, and he was perfectly still as he leaned against the frame watching her.
It's like he knows it's dangerous to say these things to me....
She narrowed her now-lined eyes briefly, and forced herself to smile. Play nice, Mary. The man is letting you borrow a costume you probably couldn't pay for in two years.
"Um, yeah, sorry... Not much of a "hair and makeup" chick. What did you have in mind?"
Max crossed the room and picked up her brush. "For the Morrigan, the hair must go up...." Mary felt a moment of nerves as he wove his huge strong hands through her hair and began to work it into an updo. She looked at him uncertainly.
"Do this for everybody who wears one of your costumes, do you Max?" She realized that she didn't feel threatened or alarmed, just...somehow...unsettled.....
Max did not pause, blush, or even register that he heard the tone in her voice. He merely smiled that same Cheshire cat smile and continued to use her brush and a comb he'd produced from somewhere to do something complicated to her hair. "Ah, no, Mary. You see, because there are costumes, and then there are costumes...." He gestured absently with the comb. "The Morrigan is of course one of the latter.... Most people would not be interested in wearing her. You may be only the third to put her on since she was fashioned."
I'm missing something important here. What is he trying to tell me? And should I be scared? Brandi said he was okay, and more importantly, none of my kick-his-ass-he's-a-freak alarms are going off....
Max patted her shoulder and said with satisfaction, "Ah, there, now, that is as it should be." Mary looked up at her own reflection and was mystified by the change. Her hair was pulled back into several intricate braids that were swept back into a coil that would keep the weight of her hair off her neck and hidden under the raven mask. She turned her head left and right and looked at the effect. It was her, but not her, somehow.
Max had walked into the other room while she studied his handiwork, and he came back with carved wooden box. "This is the last part of the costume, something I had forgotten about almost until I was putting up your hair. It is not kept with the rest of it in the wardrobe. I keep it in a separate vault." He held the box for another moment, thumbs making small circles on the lid as if he were making a decision about something, and then he placed the box in her hands gently.
She took it and looked at the box for a moment, admiring the intricate carving of the box. Celtic scrollwork leaves covered every inch of it, and peeking from within those leaves, once she looked more carefully, were the heads and beaks of...ravens.... In the center of the box, a large circle crest was carved similar to the one on the belt buckle she now had clasped around her waist, three large ravens chasing each other eternally. She removed the lid to look at the contents.
Inside resting on a lining of jet black velvet was a shining silver torc. The part that would encircle her neck was as thick as her thumb and was intricately carved with the same complicated leaf pattern as the box itself. At the ends of the torc instead of a loop or a ball as was common were two stylized ravens in flight. It was a heavy, magnificent piece of workmanship, and although Mary was no connoisseur of jewelry, she knew it must be both extremely old and very valuable. She traced her fingers over it lightly before looking up at Max.
"Max...I....wearing the costume is one thing, but this...this looks like it belongs in a museum somewhere...."
Max smiled, and that same unfathomable light was dancing in his eyes again. "It belongs," he said softly, distinctly, and in a tone that while gentle, brooked no argument whatsoever, "to and with the Morrigan. And I believe, Mary, that tonight at least, that's you. So...shall I help you put it on? It may need a bit of bending, and I believe it's quite heavy...."
Max lifted the torc from the box before Mary could formulate another refusal. She watched those huge strong arms bring the silver circlet up behind her neck, felt the ravens touch her throat, saw his muscles flex once, and the ravens slid home around her as though they'd always been there, as though they'd been made just for her, resting against her pulsepoints, silver warming as it touched flesh.
She looked up at Max in the mirror and he saw something shift in her eyes. She smiled fiercely at him, a sudden baring of the teeth that was both joy and something more, something slightly dangerous. She stood, held her arms out regally, expectantly, and Max draped the cloak over her with a swirl of dark plumage. She stalked over to where the spear rested against the wall and took it up with a practiced hand, spun it in her hands once to hear it sing through the air. She turned back to the mirror and looked again at her reflection, cocked her head to the side, just a little birdlike, considering, restless, turning slightly to take in all the angles and views.
Max came up behind her, rested his hand on her shoulder, paternal. "It's time to go. Enjoy yourself, but not too much. I'll see you when you come home." She flashed him a mischievous smile and leaned over to kiss him very much like a daughter headed to the prom, and then, suddenly, she leaned back and the smile was gone.
Mary was shaking her head, and she had to reach out a hand to Max, who simply lent his arm for her to lean on as she stumbled a step as they walked toward the door to the studio. He gave her a mildly concerned glance, but she just shrugged. What the hell? I'm light-headed....how did I get to be standing up? The last thing I remember was him putting the necklace on me...maybe I need food....
Max put the mask on her as the taxi arrived and wished her good luck. He continued to stand in the doorway as the taxi pulled away, watched the glorious riot of black feathers disappear toward her night of adventure. Then he chuckled softly and went back inside the quiet comforting workshop he was currently calling home.
Hmmm.....Don't know what you're going to think of this one, but this is where this one wants to go. It was headed this way last chapter, and I fought it, but Max is what he is. There is still a bet to win or lose and the consequences of that to be seen, but now there's something....more.....
Love it or run away.... R&R....
