Author's Note: Current CMW2 Events: I got a 200 dollar Spanish scholarship, the English department award (shocker…I was! Seriously! I didn't expect to do anything but sit there with my pretty white rose and play with the band), and some Presidential thing at the Senior Awards thing on Friday.
My Graduation Party last Saturday went off without a hitch and I have a sliver of financial independence. How long that's gonna last is anyone's guess.
My graduation ceremony's on Thursday and it better not rain because I only have 5 tickets (which doesn't even cover my immediate family) and if it rains, I'm getting my ass kicked by about 25 people who are foaming at the mouth to see me graduate.
Now, for the stuff you really care about: WHAT THE HELL, IPS WRITERS? WHAT THE LIVING HELL? Mark's an obnoxious jackass (that I wanted to swing Brandi around by the hair for helping him find Mary…they divorced for a reason, honey…Just. Saying.) and I wanted to smack the hell out of Mary for letting him touch her (especially when everybody knows how that's gonna turn out) and this whole Marshall/Abigail thing's getting out of hand. If I have to sit through a frou-frou wedding with a side of melodramatic regret (or a dramatic birth) from Mary during the Season Finale (which I'm pretty sure is gonna happen), I'ma whup somebody's ass. At least the case files haven't jumped the shark…yet. Damn…well, at least I can make M&M parents in Entangled. That'll make me feel better.
PS: Marshall's a dirty little liar. He was looking at Mary during that "Security Check" and he was quite pleased at what he saw, Abigail be damned. And is it my imagination or did Mary sound disappointed when he claimed he looked away? Hmm…
PS in the Aftermath of Tonight's Episode: A) I would be delighted to handle every part of Marshall: geeky, hillbilly nightshirt/dress be damned, B) I loved how he knew she was pregnant before she did, and C) The promo for next episode's got me on the edge of my seat. I sense an M&M battle brewing in the Force and maybe, just maybe, it can turn out as well as the one in this fic. Hope springs eternal…
Disclaimer: "Honestly, it's not mine!"
His cell phone rang and when he made to reach for it, he was stopped by a warm weight on his chest. Opening his eyes, Marshall saw a deeply asleep Mary and he couldn't help but marvel at her. Less than 48 hours ago, he had given up all hope of being with her and now, she was naked in his arms. She was naked in his arms and she had actually said that she loved him. Of all the possible scenarios he had come up with on the flight here, this hadn't even been on the list. Oh, he had expected yelling and he was determined to get her into bed but…wow.
The ringing stopped and promptly restarted, making her whimper softly and he pressed a deep kiss to her lips as she woke up.
"..'S going on?"
"My phone."
She blinked slowly and then reached for it, putting it in his hand before burying her face in his still stinging neck.
"This is Marshall."
"Did you find her?"
"I did. Stan, I want to apologize for the way I left. I was…"
"You don't have to explain yourself, Marshall. And you don't have to apologize either. Did you two work out whatever you needed to?"
"Yep.", Mary supplied with a leering grin, making him bite back a laugh.
"I'm pretty sure we did, Stan." he replied diplomatically. "Do you want to talk to her? She's right here."
"Yeah, put her on. I want to make sure I don't have to interview anyone…"
Marshall rolled his eyes and passed her the phone, watching appreciatively as she sat up. Unconsciously, she moved her hair to her left shoulder, revealing the mark he had left on her throat. The tip of her pink tongue went across her lips and he felt a stirring in his groin at the thought at what that tongue had recently done to him. She groaned out a laugh at something he said and he couldn't resist touching her for another second.
Coming up behind her, he put her back against his chest and lightly sank his teeth into the nape of her neck. She startled but relaxed against him, trying and failing to disguise her growing pleasure, pleasure he was giving her…
"Stan, I gotta go… yeah…do you really want the answer to that? I don't want you having nightmares…exactly…yeah, I...I'm… shit! Bye! Jackass!" she scolded him, making him laugh darkly against her back.
"What did I do?" Marshall asked innocently.
"I'm on the phone with our boss and you're..."
The rest of her sentence was lost in a loud moan as he slid two fingers into her and he hissed as she immediately tightened up around them. Mary was delightfully responsive, hot and soft on his fingertips. She moaned again as he used his other hand to pay homage to her breasts, pinching and rolling her nipples between his fingers.
"Oh Christ, Marshall…"
"Shh…just let me do this for you, Mary…let me make you feel good..."
Her hips rolled and rocked with his fingers, helping him establish the rhythm she wanted. It was surprisingly slow but very deep, making him brush against all of her intimate places, places that he now knew very well. Her head dropped forward and her nails dug into his thighs as he roughened his strokes, his pinches. Looking across the room, Marshall bit back a growl at the sight of her in the full length mirror. She was an absolute knockout, putting all other women to shame. She reminded him of the Pagan Warrior Goddesses he had read about in his hours in the library. Athena, the Morrigan, Sekhmet…
Her moans took on a sharper, huskier edge and he met her fevered, pleading jade orbs in the glass. Relishing the (all too brief) power he had over her, he finally brought his thumb into her humid heat and with a perfectly timed caress…
"Marshall!"
/
She had thought that she knew all the types of orgasms: soft, hard, angry, faked…
The way that Marshall touched her, the way that she felt in his arms…it was a whole different animal. When he made her come, Mary could feel every part of her respond, not just her pulsing, twisting core. She felt bound to him, connected in the most intense and permanent ways. As she writhed and screamed for him, their eyes remained locked in the mirror and she was stripped bare.
Her shield of anger and caustic, cynical indifference had been replaced by softness, by tenderness, by…by love. Eyes really were the windows to the soul and the truth and he could see it all.
Suddenly, she was turned around and Marshall kissed her fiercely, moving them backwards. Her knees bent and spread as he settled between her legs, his tongue hot and plundering. Mary matched him and her nails returned to his arms as he re-entered her. There were no barriers between them. They weren't needed. Both of them were clean and even if she didn't have her implant, Mary trusted him utterly to take care of her…and their child….their children…
You want his babies, Mary. All this time, you've said that you would never bring children into such a fucked up world, that you'd be a terrible mother with some sleazy bastard as the father but you were wrong. Marshall proved you wrong once again…
Two tears slid out of her eyes at the thought and he broke the kiss to wipe them away, to look at her with silent concern, concern that she was so familiar with…
"Tell me what you need…"Every time he said that, his baby blues blazed with tenderness, with devotion, with a desire to help her and support simply because he…
"I love you." she rasped.
She would do her utmost to erase the flash of doubt in his eyes at those words from her mouth. As much as the doubt pissed her off (and hurt her) to see, she didn't blame him one little bit. After all, Mary had spent 7 years playing with his feelings, hurting and burning him but no more! Not anymore, damn it! Even if it killed her, she would make him fully believe that she loved him, that wasn't running away from him ever again. Where the hell was she gonna go, anyway? Who else would love her like he did? Who else would accept her like he did?
The doubt left as quickly as it came and he kissed her sweetly before replying, "I love you, too. Always."
She realized that and although she would never understand just what the hell he wanted with her, Mary would not only allow him to love her but would match his ardor, eventually surpassing it. She was determined to do so.
After all, in love or not, she was not one to be outdone.
