AN: As usual.. I own nothing at all .
Dispatchvampire … Thanks so much
I hope you still enjoy the story …. A little bit of French ( sorry, couldn't help it… ) - I translated them at the end of the chapter …
Chapter 8- Sweet Caroline.
Good times never seemed so good I've been inclined, I believed they never would…
The ride to Denver was eventless. It seems neither of them wanted to bring the subject of Marshall's love life on the carpet. They checked into a motel with, as usual, adjoining rooms. This was the first time they had been back on the road together, since Mary's vacation and Marshall's shooting. And moreover, since his new status of Abby's boyfriend.
After dropping her go bag on the bed, Mary opened the door to her partner's room, as she usually did. Marshall was on the phone, and she looked at her. "I'll be back in just a sec, Abby. " He muted the phone, and asked, "Anything you need Mare?"
She felt her cheeks blushing. Of course he was on the phone with his girlfriend. "Just wanted to know if you were ready to eat. Guess, you'll let me know when it's ok." She closed the door, feeling awkward. She wasn't used to dealing with a dating Marshall. For all the time they've been partners, he hadn't been engaged in a long lasting relationship. She knew he dated, hoped he was getting laid, but there was never a relationship that lasted more than two weeks. A fortnight being his record with his old teacher.
She sat on her bed, taking her laptop, and started reviewing the different accesses and contingency exits of the Denver courthouse. It gave her something to do. Instead of thinking of this Chafee girl with Marshall. Dating Marshall. Kissing Marshall. Even … STOP. I need to stop thinking about that right now. Focus on the Denver courthouse. And the bunch of FBI Agents they will have to deal with. Including Faber. Why, of all the FBI agents in Denver, Colorado, was he the one to be always assigned on their cases? It was beyond understanding. Or it was because HE asked to be the one on their cases.
"Stop thinking about the Feds, Mare. We'll get enough of them tomorrow. What you're doing?" asked Marshall, who was leaning on the doorframe, looking at her. "Reviewing the contingency exits, just in case of. I hope everything will go on smoothly. You ready for dinner?" she asked. He nodded and went to take his jacket, phone and wallet, as she closed the door of her room and waited for him outside. They headed to the small dinner outside the motel and soon called it a night.
The next morning, the headed straight to the Denver Courthouse. They had spent their breakfast reviewing all options and all routes leading them out of Colorado to an airport. They were greeted there by U.S Marshal Sprade, in charge of protecting Caroline Lecapelier so far. He was Seattle-based Witsec inspector, and Mary and Marshall knew him from the Lewis Fowler's case. She asked about her former witness she had spent long hours with, and they moved on to the young woman case. She was due to testify in one hour, and would be free to go by mid-afternoon. Security was very high in the surroundings of the courthouse. Caroline Lecapelier was the main witness in a mob trial, and was therefore very much at risk. Mary and Marshall expected the worst for the exit of the witness, in retaliation. They sat in the crowd attending to the trial, watching every move, along with the other marshals around. They exited the room a few minutes before the end of a testimony, to attend a meeting with the FBI and the Denver and Seattle USMS.
Of course, to Mary's displeasure, Mike Faber was in the room. Marshall sensed her tensing at the sight of the man and decided to take the matter into his own hands. "Agent Faber, Marshals, pleased to meet you. I'm Marshal Miller, and this is Marshal Shepherd. We're here for the witness and how to take her safely out of Denver. The rest will be our own business. We have very little time, so could we please move this along?" His voice was professional, calm, steady. He would not let any personal chat come into. The most important thing was the life of the witness.
Fortunately for Caroline, the meeting went on well—and quickly. Marshall and Mary took their position at the exit of the courtroom, ready to protect her. They did not introduce themselves, and lead her through the corridors of the courthouse.
A few minutes later, the trio exited on Cherokee street, climbed into a black SUV, and straight into West Colfax Avenue.
It was followed by several other cars, heading towards different directions, in order to loose any tail that would come. And it did.
From one of the windows on the first floor of Denver County court, Marshall saw black sedan following the official SUVs. Mary was the first to speak."So? Did they follow?"
Her partner answered with a smile "Yep. There's only one car remaining on Cherokee street. We'll leave in a few minutes. Let's go to the parking lot." He turned to the young woman, and said, "By the way, I'm Marshal Marshall Miller, and this is Marshal Mary Shepherd."
As so many others before her she answered, "Marshal Marshall? Your name is also Marshall?"
He blinked at her, saying "C'est une longue histoire."1
She beamed, hearing him speaking her native tongue "So great! You both speak French?"
Mary answered, "No, Doofus here is the only one speaking foreign languages. But I'm much better at shooting than he is."
They had started walking in the now empty corridor towards the stairs to the parking lot. He smirked. "You wish you were. Remember last time?"
Mary rolled her eyes. "Come on, we drank whiskey till 4 am the day before, that doesn't count!"
He was still smiling. "I drank too, so it counts. I'm the best shooter, that's all."
As an answer, she slapped him on the chest, while Caroline asked them "You sure you are US Marshals?"
They exited the courthouse via the parking lot in a VW minivan which reminded Mary of the one Horst stole to try to escape her. As if she was going to let the guy who shot her partner escape. She would have followed him to the end of the world and back. It was Marshall's idea of hiding. In plain sight. The two men in the black sedan parked in Cherokee street did not even look at them. "I bet Stan had a hell of a day trying to find a minivan for the transfer of a witness," said Mary as they were heading towards Barr Lake State Park.
"He nearly lost the remaining hairs he had. He never thought this would work. And by the way, you look awful in that Hawaiian shirt," answered Marshall. But it did work. They both were wearing colorful outfits, red for Marshall, pink for Mary (and yes, she hated pink). They would switch vehicles at the park, and would be heading east as soon as possible. They reached Omaha later that evening, and settled in a motel for the remaining of the night.
Morning saw Marshall bringing coffee and pastries to the women's room. Mary was still taking her shower when he entered. "Tenez, je vous ai apporté un petit quelque chose. Je doute qu'il soit aussi bon que chez vous, "2 said the tall man while giving Caroline a croissant.
"Merci, c'est gentil. Où allons-nous maintenant? " 3 she asked.
"En France. C'est tout ce que je suis autorisé à vous dire."4
They did not notice that Mary was out of the bathroom. "Don't tell me you both will be speaking frigging French all the way to Fucking Paris?"
Marshall turned to Caroline, deliberately speaking French. "Mary est toujours de très mauvaise humeur, tant qu'elle n'a pas pris son café. Encore que, quelque fois, il faille plus d'un café. " 5 Caroline chuckled, please to see that the Marshals she'd been assigned to had humor. This was going to be a fun ride for a change.
All the way on the I76, Marshall and Caroline sometimes spoke French, just to piss Mary off. Caroline asked how he was speaking such good French. "Well, I always was gifted at languages at school. And before I started University, I decided to go to France for the holidays. I ended up being a guide in Paris for the tourists. So… I guess, once in the field, you learn better. And faster. Plus, it's always useful to impress women," he blinked, looking at Caroline. "Except for this one," he added. "With her, you'd better be able to wrestle and shoot correctly. She's no girl."
"Dork," was his partner's answer.
They arrived in Chicago at the end of the afternoon. "Too bad we can't call Dershowitz. He still owes me beer from last time," said Mary.
"I'm not sure he will want to ever drink beer again with you, Mare."
She pouted. "You men are no fun to deal with. I swear, next time we're in Chicago, I'll make him buy the beers!"
Marshall was now laughing. "Yeah, of course. Let's head to the airport. The sooner we go through the customs, the safer we are." Mary nodded. They would take the night flight to Paris, and head straight to the American Embassy, then home. Tomorrow, they would be home.
She was so wrong about that.
Translations:
1: It's a long story
2: Here is a little something for you. But I highly doubt it is as good as the one in your country.
3: Thanks, that's nice. Where are we heading for from now?
4: To France. That's all I can tell you.
5: Mary is always in such a bad mood as long as she did not drink her coffee. Although, sometimes, more than a coffee is needed.
Next Chapter, we're heading to Paris. Please, do not hesitate to review!
