Disclaimer: Mary and Marshall belong to David Maples. If they hadn't been misused by others I wouldn't be writing this.
Provoked Too – Chapter 7 – Wash Your Troubles Away
Marshall & Abigail's home
Marshall's hands are submerged in bubbles as he does the dinner pots and pans. He's scrubbing carefully when Abigail takes her damp towel and snaps it across his butt, giggling. "Hurry it up Sugarbritches," she teases. "The sooner we're done, the sooner I can get some sugar from those britches." When his only response is a tepid smile she puts her arms around his waist and hugs him from behind.
"Y'know, we haven't had the gang over for months. I know you're busy settling into your new position, but I really wanted to throw you a party - y'know – celebrating your promotion. We should invite. . . ."
Marshall grits his teeth. "Really Abigail?" He snaps. "And what would we tell them about my promotion? Where would we say I worked? Should I invite them to the office?" Abigail sighs and presses her face into his back. "Oh come on. It's not that big a deal."
Marshall cranes his neck to look at her. "Not that big a deal?" He stares. "You do realize I could be fired if they thought I told you what I do."
"I am a detective. You didn't have to tell me," Abigail's whines.
"Besides," he turns his attention back to the sink, "I thought you told your parents." He knew she called her mom the day his promotion came through. What exactly did she tell them?
Abigail grabs the clean pot and starts drying. "I told them that you were in charge of an office in the Marshal Service. I never mentioned which office or where it's located." She sniffs. "Does that meet with your approval?"
"Yup," he agrees running the water to rinse the last dish. Doesn't she know how many lives depend on his anonymity? Get real Doofus – when did he start referring to himself as Doofus? – of course she doesn't know. She can't know. Doesn't she realize his secrecy keeps her safe? Keeps her family safe?
"I don't understand why you don't just use the dishwasher. We'd have more time for foolin' around." Abigail runs her hands over his shoulders and down the center of his back tucking her fingers into his waistband.
"Abigail! Don't. I'm going to drop your mother's casserole. I'm washing it by hand because I know that it has a history in your family. I want to pass it on to our children."
Mollified by his reasoning she sighs, "Children." Suddenly she pulls her hands out of his pants and asks sharply, "Why do you think Mary's little brat cried when I held her? I'm glad Mary never brought her here. If all she's going to do is cry it would ruin the evening."
They've had this discussion before. Marshall sighs and enunciates slowly. "Some babies don't like anyone but their own mother. Some will go only go to women, some only to men." He shrugs. "Don't take it personal. She's a baby. You know how babies can be."
"No," she flounces to the cabinet to put away a saucepan. "I don't! My nephews and nieces love me. They never cried when I held them, even when they were just babies. Besides, she went to Lucas."
"She's been around Lucas more. He's familiar. As for your family, they all have the a similar scent. Any child in the family can feel comfortable with that familiar smell. Remember my brother Clint's little girl, Casey?"
"Oh do I! I was never so embarrassed in my life. That child screamed bloody murder when all I did was pat her on the head. Everyone thought I slapped her!"
"I've known Casey all her life and I've never seen her react like that. You must have surprised her. She's never done that with my family. Scent or maybe pheromones is at work there too. My family's pheromones." He'd researched pheromones trying to figure out why Mary never considered him boyfriend material. Maybe if he had used whiskey aftershave?
"When we have our own children," Abigail declares, "they'll have a combination of both of our pheromones so they will be comfortable with either family."
"That's the theory." Marshall opens the drain and watches the water gurgles down, wishing his own unease would drain away.
Abigail puts her wet dish towel around Marshall's neck and pulls him down for a kiss. "Aaaa ug. Abs you're getting me wet." That wasn't the response she expected. What is going on with him?
Abigail stomps her foot. "That was the idea Sugarbear. I wanted you to join me in that big ol' tub but if you're going to be such a grump I'm going to soak alone." She clomps out of the kitchen. "Get yourself in a better mood Mr. Mann!"
What is wrong with him? He'd been in a foul mood ever since running into Mary at the park last weekend. Mary and Norah and him. Why isn't he happy for his former partner? She's happy for him. Isn't she? Lucas seems like a good guy. Someone who appreciates Mary, understands who she is. He's only concerned because Provo knows Mary's in WITSEC, and not because Mary has the worst taste in men. It's only a matter of time before she screws up and endangers a passel of witnesses. That's why his stomach is upset and his chest feels tight.
He's wiping down the counters and cleaning off the stove but thinking of Norah. She didn't even recognize him! She let Lucas pick her up, but barely tolerated him. At least she didn't cry when he gave her an almost Eskimo kiss. Marshall sighs and rolls his shoulders. Ugh. He still needs to call Davey.
When he's finished, he joins a freshly bathed Abigail in the bedroom. They sit resting against the headboard. With a full stomach and a full heart, Marshall puts his arm around his fiancée. She squirms away. "Abs? What's wrong?"
"Where were you tonight? What was so goddamn important that you had to leave me alone on one of our few nights off?"
"Abs, Abigail, sweetie. I told you. It was work. Believe me, Mary didn't want to be there any more than I did."
Her face falls and her eyes become angry slits. "You were with Mary?"
Marshall rolls his eyes. "Yes I was with Mary. She works for me, at least for now."
Abigail crosses her arms over her chest. "Oh I know she works for you, although most of the time it seems you work for her. All she has to do is crook her little finger and you come running." Abigail stares at the wall then turns to him. "What do you mean 'for now.'"
He'd come home as soon as he could, even showered and shaved, made dinner, cleaned the kitchen and she's being pissy? Abigail seems determined to push every one of his buttons. He feels as if she has him under a microscope. "I'm just worried," she says. "You've never been so crabby. If you don't feel better tomorrow, please make a doctor appointment."
"I'll think about it Abs. I'm sure it's nothing. Any change, even a positive one like our engagement can be stressful." Marshall puts his arm around her and this time she doesn't pull away.
"Marshall, what did you mean Mary works for you for now? Has she found another position?" She sounds curious and hopeful.
Marshall retracts his arm and leans his head back on the headboard. "She should."
"Why? Norah's taken care of. She's got Lucas. You said she loves her job. Why would she move?"
"Mary needs to be there for Norah – to see her graduate from kindergarten, from high school, from college. You know how our jobs are. Boredom interspersed with danger to life and limb. Now that she has Norah she needs to take care of herself. Avoid dangerous situations. That can be hard to do in our job."
"You mean she's in danger because she doesn't have you to watch her back. Mary has a new partner who will look out for her."
Marshall nods slowly. "True. But Mary's partner isn't as experienced. As for Lucas. He doesn't have roots in Albuquerque. I think he'd go wherever she goes if she'll have him. He came to Albuquerque because of her."
Abigail sucks in a breath. "Oh. I didn't realize they were serious."
Marshall huffs. "He's serious. He's not sure Mary is." Why does the thought of Mary leaving Albuquerque make his stomach twist? She's no longer part of his personal life. If only Abigail could see that.
"Is that why you had to see her tonight? To talk her out of transferring?"
Marshall's mouth puckers in distaste. "No, I told you. It was work. You know I can't tell you any more than that!"
"Can't or won't?"
"Abigail, don't you trust me?"
She looks into his piercing blue eyes, taking her time, judging him. "Alright, Sugarbear, I trust you to do the right thing." He relaxes, thinking she understands. She scoots down, getting her head on the pillow, her back to him. "I'm not sure the right thing will be what I want or need."
"What in the hell is that supposed to mean?" Marshall's no longer relaxed and Abigail doesn't appear sleepy.
She rolls on her back, staring up at him. "What do you need Marshall Mann? Just what does having Mary as your 'work wife' mean?"
"What are you insinuating Abigail?"
She pushes herself back up. "I mean 'work' is a damn convenient way for have your cake and eat it too. A way to be engaged to me and still having a relationship with Mary."
He crosses his arms and stares straight ahead. "You really don't trust me." His tone is dead flat. Is this angry Marshall? Abigail has never seen him angry. He'd always been playful and sunny.
"I want to trust you Sugarbear, but I think you aren't as committed to this relationship as I am. You're still stuck on Mary."
"I am not," he says slowly, evenly, "stuck on Mary. Mary and I have nothing in common. We don't have a relationship. We were friends, but ever since I asked her to release me she barely talks to me. Mary and I have never been further apart!" Realizing the truth of what he said, he drops his head and lets out a breath that sounds too much like a sob.
Abigail gives up trying to sleep. "You miss her," she says softly. It wasn't an accusation as much as an observation. "Do you know you talk in your sleep?" Marshall's head comes up and he turns to her. "The damn gun runner case is keeping me awake. Sometimes I hear you murmur her name. Other times you shout as if you're trying to warn her. It's a wonder you hadn't woken me before this."
"I…uh," Marshall stutters. He hadn't dreamed of Mary since he started dating Abigail. After learning about Lucas he remembers dreaming of pulling Mary from Lucas' arms. Why is he dreaming that? He's happy with Abigail. She is fun and sweet and sexy. "I can't control my dreams, and I don't remember them - most of the time."
"I know Sugarbear." She caresses his cheek and kisses him softly. "I understand things have changed at home and at work. I'm sure you'll soon be the Honeybritches I know and love. Love you." Abigail says softly. She pats his cheek and gives him another kiss then lays down with her back to him.
Marshall closes his eyes when she kisses him, but chooses to sleep with his back to hers. The heart wants what the heart wants. Who does his heart want?
A/N: Thanks Meg for the review. I'd love to know what other readers think.
