A/N: Oh, that Abigail! Causing trouble as always! ;)

XXX

Pissed Mary might be, but fast she was not. By the time she did, in fact, discern Marshall bellowing her name for practically the whole world to hear him, she was almost a block away from the restaurant. As if she needed anything else to worry about, she was puffing unattractively from trying to make a getaway at any kind of top speed. The extra poundage she had accumulated meant she moved at a much slower pace and Marshall, with his lean legs and no such weight, caught up in no time.

"Mary, hey!"

He was fortunate there weren't a lot of people walking the streets at twelve thirty on a Tuesday, because she would've whipped around then and there to tell him to shut up and keep his bullhorn qualities to himself.

The woman was bustling to nowhere, just anxious to get away, but realized with another block or two she would be in familiar territory and could bum off her partner if need be.

"Mary, come on!" now he was close enough to grab her, and his fingers closed around her elbow in a vise grip.

It was a mark of how serious he was about stopping her, because he knew how unwise it was to touch her, particularly in stressful moments like this one. She jerked away almost at once, but didn't try to make a break for it again. She was sweaty, with heavy ankles and a blazer she longed to take off due to the red-hot heat. But, she wouldn't give Marshall the satisfaction of knowing Abigail had driven her to physical ailments as well as emotional ones.

"What are you doing?" the man breathed once they had come to a halt, staring into Mary's blazing face. "We drove together; where are you going?"

He was her return ride to the Sunshine Building, but Mary didn't comment on that, "The studio's on fifth," she invented on the spot. "You go back to your date," now she was scathing.

"The studio?" Marshall questioned, somewhat winded himself where they stood poised in the middle of the sidewalk. "Jinx's studio? That's probably seven or eight blocks from here…"

"Well, I could use a workout," but, Mary's tone was so biting that he couldn't believe she was genuine; she was mocking and derisive in every word. "Obviously…" a pant escaped, and she just hoped she'd be able to hold off pitching onto her knees to grab a simple rhythm of inhales and exhales.

"You can't walk in this weather," she couldn't believe he was centering on this, of all things, not the fact that she'd just ditched he and Abigail like some tantrum-throwing two-year-old. "If you really want to go over there, come on back and I'll drive you…"

"Really, I'll spare you the trouble," Mary snapped. "I'm already sparing you the opportunity to be some glorified baby-sitter another month from now."

And there it is, Marshall couldn't help thinking. They had reached the root of what he had known was the catalyst for her blowing through the doors in the first place. In hindsight, he felt terribly that he had been so open with Abigail, but on the other hand it wasn't entirely his fault. He had assumed Abigail knew when to be more diplomatic with Mary, and she clearly did not.

Sighing and mopping his brow, thinking about removing his jacket as well, Marshall was very careful in how he proceeded. Riling the beast – the pregnant beast – would likely have Mary wanting to scalp him.

"Look…" he began quietly. "Ab…what she said…"

Mary was not interested in excuses and snarled right back in his face, "You said you supported me!" she reminded him, harking back to the adoption.

"I did – I do!" he maintained almost shrilly. "What part of what she said made you think that I don't?"

"What was that crap about you being willing to raise this kid if I'm not going to?" there was no getting around that remark. "Does she honestly think I'm going to hand frickin' Mango over to you in the delivery room so you can take him home for practice before you have your own little brood?"

"No…" Marshall insisted, understanding the reasoning behind her outburst a little better now. "I don't want to speak for Abigail – I can't say for sure what she meant by that. I think she just knows that I've always wanted children and that I'd love your baby just like I love you…"

Mary's roasting skin suddenly had goose bumps rising on the flesh. Marshall had said he'd loved her before, of course – many times, and usually fairly casually. There was no reason to believe he wasn't speaking in the platonic sense this time as well. Still though, his explanation was somewhat hurtful. Mary had thought he'd be tripping all over himself to apologize, and here he was actually offering up a pretext as to why they didn't see eye-to-eye on the adoption.

"Don't make more into this than it is," Marshall pleaded. "You have to know I am behind you – that I have complete confidence in whatever choice you make. But, I want you to know that you have my vote in the other direction too. But, it sounds like you're making a solid plug for adoption and I don't want you to ever have the impression that I think less of you for it…"

"Yeah, right," Mary scoffed irreverently, blowing her sticky bangs off her forehead. "You don't think Nancy Drew was putting in a plug of her own?" she suggested. "She can give you what I can't."

This was flat out untrue, at least on Marshall's end. Mary gave him plenty of things that Abigail never could, but he had to be quick in figuring out how to articulate this without insulting the detective in the process.

"Mary, you're my best friend," he reverted to this phrase a lot when he wanted to win her over, to not make her madder than she already was. "You always will be. My relationship with Abigail is different; it's not a competition…"

"Tell that to her."

"But, she is important to me," he reiterated the third word to ensure that Mary would grasp the magnitude. "And, I want you to be able to coexist; I don't desire losing either one of you…"

While he was back to being his totally serene and practical self, Mary had never felt more incapable of completing a task. He didn't understand at all; he didn't get how slighted she'd felt knowing that he'd spent far too much time gabbing to Abigail about her. Logically, she knew she couldn't expect him not to, but she was having a very hard time reconciling it.

She wasn't going to delve into those depths right now, though. She'd just sound selfish and deprived, two things Mary absolutely loathed in other people. She had no defense if she brought this up; asking him to keep their camaraderie separate from his love life was unfeasible. Right now, her neck, feet, and flabby arms were burning up, and she wanted to get a move on.

"Marshall, I know how this works," Mary informed him almost snootily. "There's a divide coming here. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but I'm not the only one who'll be making a decision. And when the girlfriend doesn't like the friend…"

"Abigail does like you. She gets nervous; it's her way of trying…"

"Trying?" the blonde guffawed. "You think spelling out for me that I'm some egotistical ogre that puts her baby in a box on a UPS truck shows that she likes me?"

"It's me she's thinking about; it really has nothing to do with you…"

"Thinking about you doing what?" Mary spat.

"She wants me to be happy, and she knows your child would make me happy, but what she doesn't know is that I'm perfectly content without him," now he'd coined the gender as well. "Mary, we've lasted eight years, just the two of us. You not keeping the baby will not ruin anything."

It was his way of saying that she was golden either way, that he would still be there no matter what the result, trying to illuminate both pickings as being positive. Mary wasn't sure she could believe him, and she certainly didn't believe Abigail didn't have an ulterior motive.

"You ask Little Miss 'Go Mustangs,'" drawing pretentious air quotes around the team. "If she really thinks having me around isn't ruining anything, and see what she says."

"Mary…"

"I'm going to see Jinx," she declared before she could give in to his softer timbre. "If I were you, I'd get back to your girl, and work on figuring out how you're going to explain that you came after me instead of consoling her."

And, much as she had inside the restaurant, Mary plodded along on her merry way, but Marshall did not heed her advice. He followed her around like a lost puppy the entire seven blocks, either because he wanted to make things right or because he was concerned she might collapse, Mary wasn't sure, but she as much as left him in the dust.

While she clumped down the mostly hushed sidewalks and shop fronts, she wondered what he'd done with Abigail, if he had indeed left her sitting by her lonesome to eat the two entrees neither of them would've touched. Knowing Marshall, he had been more chivalrous than that, and had sent her back to her own office so she wouldn't be waiting. Mary couldn't decide which course she preferred he take.

By the time they made it to the dance studio, it was close to one o'clock and Mary was drenched in sweat, Marshall perspiring through his coat. She caught a quick glimpse of herself in the glass and saw that her cheeks were shiny, her hair matted. Predictably, Marshall stepped through the tinkling bell right behind her, at which point she had to tell him to buzz off, lest Jinx discover they had been arguing.

"Would you beat it?!" she almost exploded, grateful there were no students around because her voice echoed off the linoleum. "I don't want my mother to see you here! I don't need your coddling, Marshall! Get lost!"

"I want to talk to you about this," he turned a deaf ear, for once not backing away the minute Mary began to push him in the opposite direction. "I don't like that you suddenly think you've become second best in my life."

"When did I say that?" Mary was as acidic as ever, trying to ward him off the perception that she was hanging on to any kind of fairytale, however innocent, among them. "I didn't know we had rankings."

"You don't!" now his voice climbed and she hushed him at once, pounding her hands toward the ground to encourage him to lower his noise level. "That's what I'm trying to tell you!"

"You're delusional," she shook her head. "You haven't had a real girlfriend since I became your partner. You don't know what a bitch they've all thought I was?"

Now Marshall fluttered his eyelashes, looking somewhat stunned by Mary's view of herself. He knew she could be very self-aware when she wanted, especially internally, but to blurt it out like this was unprecedented. Inadvertently, the man was sure; she had just provided him some very real insight into her character. If she believed Marshall's dates thought her a tyrant, there was a chance Marshall might eventually think so too. And, it couldn't be clearer that this scared her.

To avoid touching on something so close to the bone, he went for facts instead, "Shelley didn't seem to think so."

"I'd hardly call her a date," Mary stuck a hand on her hip, trying to shift her weight so that she didn't feel like she had dumbbells in her ankles. "And, she's a shrink. It's her job not to pass judgment, though she did a damn good job with me…"

"Mary…" his voice was tired, but determined. "If you're worried about losing me…"

But, at that moment, Jinx finally made her presence known. Mary was surprised it had taken her this long, but she couldn't help but be grateful for her mother in this instance. The inspector had blushed furiously hearing Marshall try and mollify her; she didn't want to guess where his sentence was headed. More terrifying than their friendship being beaten into the ground was the suggestion that it might kick up a notch. This was far too much for Mary to contemplate on top of everything else.

"Mary!" Jinx exclaimed, parading out of her office, her brunette ringlet waves piled high on top of her head in a ballerina bun. She wore short leggings that clung to her calves and a large T-shirt, some musical's name spelled across the chest. "What are you doing here? And Marshall…!"

The delight was evident from the older woman until she came a little closer. Mary and Marshall had sprung apart at her appearance, Mary folding her arms over her chest as though to keep her mother at bay. The stoniness couldn't be missed, even for someone as dim as Jinx.

"I have some girls coming in at one fifteen, but it's so good to see both of you…" she twittered gaily. And then, sensing the steely air, her smile faltered, "Is…is everything all right?"

Marshall wouldn't be so presumptuous as to answer, to explain to Jinx what their little tiff had been about. No way in hell was it his place to do such a thing; Mary would have a fit. All he could do was wait for his partner to emit a few letters until he could pick up the thread.

"Fine," Mary's singular phrase was pinched and tight. "Marshall was just leaving."

He really should've expected that. It was the perfect out, as she knew he wasn't going to question her with Jinx around, already ashamed of his prior blunders. Jinx herself looked a little befuddled by him being asked to hit the road though. Come to think of it, Marshall couldn't be sure that she'd ever really seen the pair of them fight.

But, like any decent mother, her main concern was her daughter – the detached quality to her tone and the defensive pose added up to a distraught looking picture.

"Angel, you don't look well…" she remarked, stepping closer and examining her features. "Did…did something happen? You're all sweaty; did you walk over here?"

Marshall spontaneously decided to come to the rescue, "We were out and thought we were closer than we were, so we did take a little stroll, but perhaps not advisable next time."

"Oh…honey…" Jinx was immediately sympathetic and started stroking Mary's hair; she twitched at the contact, but didn't fidget away too dramatically, still with her arms across her chest. "It must be ninety-five degrees out there; you should come sit down…"

"I don't need to, mom," Mary insisted, though it was a bald-faced lie. "It wasn't that big of a deal."

"Well, you should at least have some water; there are three or four bottles in the fridge in the office…"

"Mom, stop," the younger tried to shut her down, closing herself in more by the moment. "I'm not a child."

Apparently, the reminder was all she aspired to get out, because she threw the man a hard, unyielding stare before unfolding and starting across the room.

"Marshall can see himself out."

Without waiting to see if he actually departed, she left Jinx to stand open-mouthed and Marshall to appear quite the fool, retreating into the tiny cubby at the back of the studio, separated from the main floor by a window with blinds and a door. It was through the half-closed shutters that Jinx could watch Mary turn her back on the both of them, which meant she seized the opportunity when she wasn't going to be impeded.

"What is going on?" the dancer hissed, just to guarantee that her daughter wouldn't overhear. "My poor Mary…" she fretted, not giving Marshall a chance to reply. "Something is the matter; did you two…?"

She trailed off, Marshall thinking vaguely that, given all his years with Mary, he had definitely started to believe her claims that her mother was a watt low. But here, she was proving differently. She had enough wisdom to know that something was off between them, never having glimpsed their disagreements notwithstanding.

"We um…" it wasn't often that Marshall found himself searching for words, but he wanted to be cautious, lest he get himself into any more trouble than he already was. "We had a bit of a spat, but it's really nothing…"

Marshall didn't see it that way, but he had faint hope that Mary would appreciate him defining it as such.

"Listen…" he scratched the back of his now-damp hair, wishing he could air out his shirt along the way, and decided that now was the time to put this to bed, at least temporarily. "It…it's my fault she trooped all the way down here. I…I blindsided her with something; she was just looking for a place to set up camp."

Jinx's cheeks formed an understanding, all-too-knowing sort of smile, "I don't think you can trick me into believing you acted maliciously here, Marshall."

"Not maliciously, no…" he would agree with that. "But, inconsiderately."

"Well, I doubt that too."

"Honestly Jinx…" he held up his hands in defeat, not wanting Mary to see that Jinx was letting him off the hook. "It was a gaffe on my part. We'll be able to smooth things over," they always had in the past, but that was before Abigail. "We're taking a trip together in a few days; there will be plenty of time to iron it out…"

"A trip?" Jinx repeated, like she couldn't believe her ears. "Where are you going? What for?"

"The… 'what for' is confidential, of course…" Marshall was forever polite as he turned her down. "But, it's for work. Mary's flying days are behind her, so we're taking a drive – nothing too strenuous, I assure you."

The brunette looked like she didn't approve of this, but didn't explicitly say so, "As long as you'll be with her, I'm not worried."

All Marshall could do upon hearing this was bow his head and grin softly to show his gratitude, and it made for a perfect segue so that he could respect Mary's wishes and back through the doors.

"I should be getting on my way…" though it was going to be a long walk back to the restaurant to get his car. "Just, if Mary asks, tell her I'll talk to her later."

Still puzzled, but willing to forfeit that he meant well, Jinx didn't try and stop him, "Of course, dear. We'll see you soon."

And, though he longed to stay and plead his case to his partner another dozen times, Marshall turned and pushed his way through the sunny glass, back onto the street once more.

Inside, Jinx wasted no time bustling her way to her office, where she found Mary slumped in her desk chair, positively chugging a bottle of water. A second lay on the surface before her, like she fully intended to drink more than her fair share. Jinx was not at all perturbed by this, but judging by her face, Mary could tell that she was annoyed about something. No doubt Marshall had let a few things slip, giving her even more reasons to mount her wrath and smack him one.

In order to sidestep what was sure to be an interrogation from her mother, Mary bounded after a completely random topic of discussion, even if she couldn't expect it to last.

"Nice crib, mom…" she gulped once she managed to swallow the ocean of liquid she was downing. "Although, the décor could use some sprucing up. I wouldn't think grey cinderblock and stained linoleum is really your style…"

Indeed, the walls were bare and only piles of folders and forms filled Jinx's desk; there were no pictures to frame the ancient-looking computer that sat with its black screen in front of Mary's eyes. You would think she had just moved in, and she'd been working at the studio for over a year. Maybe she had some weird superstition about cleaning and beautifying.

But, the decorations, or lack thereof, were not on Jinx's mind. Looking huffy, prim, and proper, she laid right into Mary the second she quit talking.

"What in the world is going on?" Mary felt she had been asked this far too many times in the last half hour alone. "You show up here looking like you've been to a sauna in your clothes…"

"Flattering."

"Telling Marshall that he can 'see himself out!' What did you fight about?"

Mary frowned, her lips poised over the ridge of her bottle, "Who says we fought?"

Jinx was prompt, "Marshall."

Mary huffed and made a mental note to hit him for this later, trying to squash the thoughts that said the ordeal wasn't Jinx's fault – she was just the messenger.

"Don't be ridiculous, mom. We fight all the time; it is hardly earth-shattering…"

"And since when do you come running to me when you do?"

"I did not come 'running' to you!" Mary corrected tetchily. "It was convenience! I won't be making that mistake twice!"

"Mary, you do not need to be making Marshall into an enemy," the way Jinx assumed that this was her doing was galling to the younger woman, but not all together surprising. "You shut yourself away too much already…"

"Thank-you for that bulletin, mom," she dripped with sarcasm in response. "Right out of a psychology book, that one. You been reading up with Brandi?"

"I am serious, Mary," Jinx was unrelenting. "You do not know how hard it is for a mother to see her child so withdrawn; I've watched you do it for almost forty years."

A snappy comeback to this analysis was what Mary would've usually given Jinx in an event like this one, but it was the first portion that really caught her ear. The shorter of the two had said, in a round-about way, that she didn't know what it was like to be a mother, or feel a mother's pain, or see what a mother saw. And, she was right; there was no denying that.

Why did it trouble her? Why did it strike her so?

The introspection must've altered Mary's features, maybe for the better, because Jinx took things down a peg and turned appeasing in a heartbeat.

"Sweetheart…" she stepped over and extended a hand, but when Mary jerked away she rethought her gesture. "Whatever is going on with you two, I hope you can fix it. Marshall's too good a friend for you to let him get away."

Didn't Jinx think she knew that? Wasn't she aware that Mary knew how fortunate she was to have Marshall? Just because she didn't say it didn't mean she didn't think it. But, she couldn't bear the idea that she might be turning into a Mary that Marshall didn't 'get,' or even a Mary he couldn't identify with. The introduction of the adoption, plus Abigail, had made for a lethal and uncertain combination.

"His girlfriend's a bitch," she stated out of nowhere. "Transparent as a ghost and so damned energetic I want to barf."

Jinx seemed glad she was being clued in and narrowed her eyebrows, "This is the girl who arrested Brandi?"

"Yeah, that's the one."

To Mary's surprise, her mother scoffed, "Please. You could take her any day, Mary."

And the blonde had to chuckle, though it made all the water she'd drunk slosh in her tightened stomach, and it felt slightly unnatural after the afternoon she'd been through. But, at least someone thought Abigail was no match for her – physically or otherwise.

"Thanks mom," she bestowed. "But, for Marshall's sake, I hope it doesn't come to that."

XXX

A/N: Now Mary has Jinx in her ear! So many opinions, so little time! Thank-you ever so much for the reviews! I had a lot of people catch up last night, and it was so much fun to read so many at once!