Here is chapter eleven! I hope that you enjoy it. The next chapter should be up soon (My beta sent it to me already; I just got lazy and haven't read through it/posted it yet. XD)


The flight, though only an hour, seemed to take forever. Mary and Marshall were sitting in first class, discussing quietly what they were going to do when they got there. The Maine State Police wouldn't be able to mobilize much sooner than when Mary and Marshall arrived; the warrants you needed to burst into someone's house unannounced took time to get. The FBI was on its way, but it would be hours before they ever reached their destination. The police would be waiting for the two Marshals, ready to escort them to Amie's house.

No sooner had the seatbelt sign been off then Mary and Marshall jumped up, grabbing things out of the overhead compartment. They didn't even wait for the gate to fully connect to the door, just jumped across when the gap was small enough to do so.

Four state police squad cars waited outside along with a black suburban. There was a cop holding the keys and Marshall grabbed them, jumping into the driver seat. Marshall practically floored it out of the parking lot. The gate was open, causing no delays in their escape.

Everyone was cleared out of their way; the squad cars took care of that. Mary had her phone out, reading directions off to Marshall as he needed them. They knew Amie lived close to Anita, but didn't know the exact location. Less than twenty minutes after getting on the road, they pulled up in front of a red brick house, three blocks from Nancy's mother's house. Marshall pulled two Kevlar vests out of the back seat, handing the smaller one to Mary. She gave him a look of disgust.

"Do I have to?" They were incredibly uncomfortable to wear and usually she could get away with not wearing one.

"Yes, you have to. You don't know who's in there."

"Some prissy little girl who thought she could make a quick buck and probably doesn't even own a gun."

"Mary, don't argue, just put it on."

She grumbled some more, but Velcroed the vest on. They both pulled their Glocks out, ready to enter the house. The local officers fell back, covering the doors, but Mary and Marshall were going to be the first to go in. They approached carefully and stood on either side of the front door. Marshall glanced at Mary and she nodded at him. He kicked open the door, gun in front of him. An empty living room greeted him. Mary slipped in behind him. Marshall pointed towards the hallway off the living room and they split up, searching the small, one level house. They met in the kitchen in the back of the house.

"Nothing," Mary told him.

"She has to be somewhere. There was a half packed suitcase in her bedroom."

"Someone tipped her off. She knew that we were coming."

"Maybe she heard us coming and took off before we got here."

"Either way," Mary sighed, "she's gone."

"But how far?"

"What?"

"Mare, her car is still out front. Where ever she's gone, she's gone there on foot."

"What's within walking distance?" The realization hit at the same time.

"Anita," they said together, sprinting out the door. Marshall ran faster but Mary had him in sight the whole time. The local officers watching were more than confused when the two Marshals bolted past them, but sent some officers after them anyway, not asking questions.

When they reached Anita's house, they could see Amie through the window, pointing her gun at Anita. Marshall dragged Mary behind a huge bush in Anita's front yard and signaled for the three cops that had followed to also stay out of sight.

"What are we doing?" Mary asked. "We have to get in there before she blows Anita's brains all over her couch."

"If we rush that door, guns blazing, Amie might do it anyway. Look at her. That girl is scared and had never handled a gun in her life. I don't want to jeopardize Anita because we decided to burst in there."

"So what, exactly, do you propose we do?"

Marshall was quiet and Mary let him be. She knew he was thinking, figuring something out that would get everyone out safely. "You sneak around and come in the back door."

"How is that any better than going in the front?"

"I'll distract her, talk to her. If I can get her attention on me, maybe you can take her out from behind."

"Marshall, I don't like it. If Amie starts shooting, you'll be right in her line of fire."

"We have to do something and if we both go in there, then we'll both take some bullets."

She knew that he was right but that didn't mean that she liked the idea any more. "Fine, but if the girl even flinches towards that trigger, I want you to get out of there. Your only job is to distract her, not get yourself killed." She slipped into the neighbor's yard, their high wooden fence hiding her approach.

Marshall watched until Mary disappeared. Marshall holstered his gun and zipped up the jacket he wore, hiding the vest. It was best if he looked like he was just coming to see Anita. He figured the less that he scared Amie, the better off everyone was going to be. He pressed the doorbell firmly, hearing the soft chimes come from inside the house.

"Answer," he heard Amie hiss from inside. "Don't you dare tell them I'm here."

"Who's there?" Anita called through the door, her voice shaking.

"Anita, it's Marshall Mann. From the Marshal Service. I just need some signatures on paper work."

"Get rid of him," came Amie's voice.

"Can we do it later?" she asked Marshall.

"I have a flight to catch. It will only be a few signatures." He tried the door and found it unlocked. "I promise it will only take a minute." He opened the door, revealing Amie and Anita off to the side in the sitting room. The gun was pointed straight at Anita's head. "Anita, what's going on?"

"Don't move!" Amie shouted. "Don't move or I blow her brains out."

Marshall could see Amie's hand shaking. The girl was scared, frightened out of her mind, and was being careless with the weapon in her hand. "Amie, be careful. You don't want to do anything that you'll regret."

"Let me go," she told him. "I want a way to get out of here."

"I'm not sure that's going to be possible," he told her, keeping his voice even and calm.

"Make it fucking possible!" she screamed. "I'm not going to jail. I'm not taking the fall for her again."

"You don't have to take the fall for anyone. Just let Anita go and maybe I can help you." He moved slowly across the room, causing Amie to turn away from the door. A hallway cut through to the kitchen that would allow Mary to enter unseen. If he could keep Amie's attention on him, Mary would be able to sneak up behind her.

"Stop moving!" She pointed the gun at Marshall and he put his hands up. He was stopped in front of the window, only halfway to where he wanted to be. Mary wouldn't be able to see into the living room from the angle that she was approaching. She was trusting that Marshall would divert Amie's attention. He backed up, more towards where he wanted to be, like he was trying to get away from the gun pointed at him. It worked, putting Amie's back completely to the doorway.

"Amie, calm down. Just put down the gun."

She pointed the gun away from Marshall, but retrained it on Anita, who still sat at her feet. Anita was quiet, her body shaking but otherwise managing to hold it together well. Marshall was impressed that she was managing to stay calm with such a careless handler.

"All I ever did way pay for what Maria did. She did things without ever thinking about the consequences. She was the reason I got kicked out of school. It was her fault that my parents split up. Instead of just shutting her god damn mouth, she had to go testify against Jason. She should have known he'd find her."

"She trusted you."

"She was an idiot and finally got what she deserved."

"She deserved to die?"

"She deserved a lot more than to just die," Amie spat.

"And Anita? What does she deserve?"

"I need her to get out. You won't let me leave if I let her go."

Marshall saw Mary creep behind Amie, making no sound with her gun drawn. Amie was so engrossed in talking to Marshall, in her desperate attempt to get out, that she didn't even notice Mary.

"I can't let you leave anyway."

Amie raised the gun again, pointing it at Marshall. "I'm not going to give you a choice." She pulled the trigger, getting a shot off before Mary had the chance to hit her from behind, dragging her to the floor. Grabbing the gun from her hand, Mary cuffed her to the nearest stationary object. She didn't bother securing her further, knowing that cops would be crawling all over the place in seconds now that a gunshot had been heard. She ran over to Marshall who hadn't moved since the gun had gone off.

"Marshall," Mary said frantically, kneeling next to him. "Marshall!"

"Ow," he complained. His eyes opened slowly. "That really hurt."

"Where were you hit?"

"What?"

"Marshall, where did she hit you?" Mary's voice was frantic, scared that the bullet had hit something vital.

"Calm down, I'm fine."

"Fine? You just got shot! You're not fine!"

Marshall unzipped the jacket he was wearing and it took Mary's brain a second to register that the blue shirt he was wearing was actually blue Kevlar. "I'll just have a few pretty vicious bruises."

Mary started laughing that hysterical, but relieved, laughter. She sat down on the floor next to him, not being able to control it. "Why do we have such a proficiency for getting shot?"

"Everyone has to be good at something." He gave her hand a quick squeeze, knowing that her laughter was nothing more than all the adrenaline leaving her body.

Mary turned her head to look at her partner. "You're really alright?"

"I was about to stand back up and everything." They both hoisted themselves to their feet. The cops had entered by now and the paramedics were looking over Anita. The two Marshals walked over to her.

"Hey, you alright?" Mary knew it was a stupid question. How could you be alright after something like that? But she was at a loss as to what to say.

"I'm alive," she responded. "Thanks to the two of you."

"Marshall likes to play knight in shining armor. Thank goodness you decided to play damsel in distress or I would have had to do it myself."

"Please, even when you are in distress you never ask for even a regular knight, let alone one in armor," Marshall

Anita smiled at them, though it was a shaky grin. "I'm sure if she were in real trouble, you would rescue her whether she wanted it or not."

Marshall just shrugged. It was true. "Do you need anything?"

"No, you two have done so much for me already."

"You have our number if you think of anything," Mary told her.

"Thank you."

The two Marshals turned, walking out of the house into the late afternoon sunshine. "How long until the FBI gets here?"

"I don't know. An hour or so?" Amie was walked past them, hands cuffed behind her back. "I guess we should call them and tell them where to pick Amie up."

"We're letting them take this case?"

"It's their case to begin with," Marshall reminded her. "Bringing her to justice is not your job."

"I guess. I swear to God, if she ends up in our office, I'm going to throw her out a window."

Marshall laughed, knowing that it wouldn't end well for Amie if she ended up in WITSEC. "Mary, something tells me, they would never relocate her to Albuquerque."

"Yeah, I guess it would be easy for Jason to find her."

"I think they'd be more worried about you."

Mary smacked him, but her hand hit the Kevlar, causing her more pain than him. "Ow, jerk. Let's go eat. Guy who got shot gets to pay."

"Of course I do."


Marshall watched her carefully, but she seemed to act as if nothing had happened. Their entire trip to Maine had been almost surreal. Marshall had never seen Mary act like that in his life. She had never been reliant on another person like she had allowed herself to be those few days and Marshall thought that something might change. He hoped that they could finally figure out what was going on between them. It was so frustrating Marshall wanted to scream. He knew what he wanted out of the quasi-relationship with Mary, but telling her that would only lead to problems.

He watched her fiddling with the paperclips on her desk. He walked over to her desk, offering up a cup of coffee. She took it gratefully, but her mood remained distracted. "What's bothering you?"

"You mean other than I just got back from a funeral of one of my witnesses, just before I arrested her best friend?"

"I thought Stan made you go see someone for that?"

"He did."

"You told me it was helping."

"Believe it or not, it is. Apparently sarcasm is my coping method. Who would of thought?"

"Only everyone. What's really bothering you?"

Mary sighed, taking a drink. "The whole situation with Amie just makes me angry. I know that it wasn't my fault, that there wasn't anything I could have done but…" she shrugged. "It's such a waste of so many lives for a measly half million dollars."

"I bet you it was an even million." He took a sip of his coffee, staring at the city through the window behind Mary's head.

"How could you possibly know that?"

He looked at her and shrugged. "People prefer round numbers. Besides, who asks for a half million? Nope, I'd bet you anything it was meant to be a million."

Mary was silent, turning her chair to look at the same view Marshall had been staring at. The whole situation seemed entirely unfair, but at least now she knew what had happened. At least she knew that Nancy had gotten herself killed by trusting the wrong person.

"You're angry," Marshall said.

"Of course I'm angry. Nancy trusted one person, just one, and she got killed because of it. It just proves that everyone has a price."

It was a depressing outlook on life, but he knew she was right. Even though it may not be money, everyone has something they couldn't live without. If someone told him to rob a bank or Mary died, he would almost certainly rob the bank.

"I'm just glad that, at the very least, you finally figured out that it wasn't your fault. Now I just wish I could get you to stop feeling so guilty about it all."

Mary spun in her chair to face him, a little surprised. "How could you tell?"

"How could I not?" he asked, shrugging. "You ready to head home?"

It was around seven even though it was still light out. It was hard to believe that it had only been two weeks, two weeks since coming back from the funeral, two weeks in which she had solved her case. She was more than ready to go home. "I'm driving," she said.

"Mary, we took two separate cars. I'm pretty sure we're both driving."

They went back to Marshall's place. He cooked dinner while she tried to eat the ingredients. They both sat down and talked while they ate about completely unimportant things. Mary insisted that the Power Rangers could take on the Thunder Cats while Marshall argued that the Power Rangers couldn't take out a regular cat, let alone a Thunder Cat.

Marshall cleaned; even though he had cooked, he didn't really care. Mary sucked at dishes if there was no dishwasher. He had one, but it was just easier to hand wash the dishes. After all, it was just him living there. When he finished, he turned to see Mary almost directly behind him. She wrapped her arms around his neck so that she could pull his head down and kiss him. It was slow and intense, but Marshall thought that all of her kisses were intense. Mary was an intense person.

"What was that for?" It had taken him a minute to put the sentence together but somehow he had managed.

"Let's go upstairs," she suggested.

"We're going to bed? Mary, it's 9:30. I'm not tired."

"That's Ok, I wasn't planning to sleep."

Marshall figured it out immediately. "Oh."

Mary didn't say another word, just easily led him upstairs.