*** WOW...nearly 290 reviews now and 729 hits yesterday...I'm not worthy!! Thank you so much for continuing to read!! ***
*** Now for a regroup. Mary and Marshall are going to have to do some planning and investigating, slowing down to take stock of what's left. Plans are going into play behind the scenes. ***
Raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens
Bright copper kettles and warm woolen mittens
Brown paper packages tied up with strings
These are a few of my favorite things
--- My Favorite Things, Rodgers and Hammerstein
Mary and Marshall tossed ideas back and forth on the ride back to his house, not able to make any definitive decision regarding motive. As far as they knew, Cruz was still gunning for her due to her supposed connection to Manuel and Day wanted her dead because she could ID him as being with Francesca when Mary was shot.
"I always wanted to date one of those popular girls, but this is ridiculous." Marshall joked.
Mary shot him an unsure look, "So, you think we're going to be dating?"
Marshall stilled as his brain sought a response to her question. Coming up with nothing better than "Please?", he fell back on his usual solution to a mental block and threw the question back at her.
"What do you want to call it?"
A number of phrases went through her mind and were rejected. Mary liked "falling in love", but uttering that word would be too hard yet, and she didn't know if Marshall was looking at their potential relationship the same way. Her gut yelled that he was in this for the long haul as she was fairly confident of his feelings towards her, but she still felt like that abandoned and betrayed girl when it came to hoping for happily ever after.
"Do we have to call it anything? Can't it just be what it is without a label?" she was confused.
"Well, it's definitely more than partner and friend…I guess I just unconsciously defined it." Marshall slowly replied, knowing to go forward cautiously. Mary had a hard time translating feelings into words, but he didn't want to assume she felt the same level of anticipation as he did.
"The word 'dating' always seems so temporary. Like it's just a pastime and there aren't any plans for it to be anything more. Just fun and casual until someone gets bored." She was intently picking small splinters of wood out of the hem of her top, and her eyes flickered to him as she gauged his reaction.
His heart beat a little faster as he interpreted the meaning behind her words. She didn't want this to be casual, and was afraid he might. More lingering doubts as to her feelings towards him were banished, and reaching over, he took her hand and brought it to his lips to kiss.
"You're not a temporary pastime, and I'm not a casual kind of guy." her eyes looked relieved, "We'll just let it define itself, okay?"
"I can live with that." Mary agreed with a smile.
Marshall called for pizza delivery when they got to his house while Mary headed for a shower. She found numerous small scrapes and cuts on her arms from the flying debris, but her incision looked fine and all her staples were intact. Not really being able to see the wound on her back, she planned to ask her partner to check it for her later. Aches and pains now well established after the endorphins necessary for survival had worn off, Mary was reminded of the events of the day with each breath and stretch.
Dressing in the one pair of pajamas she now owned, Mary put her damp hair up into a loose and messy bun and headed out to the kitchen for her pain meds. She decided to just keep the damn things with her from now on as they were usually needed when she wasn't here. Marshall must be taking his own shower, so she carried their dirty clothes out with her to put into the washer and was standing next to the machine when the reality of the situation hit her.
She now possessed a car, two guns, a pair of pajamas and a dirty pile of clothing. There may a few other soot covered and water logged items at her house, but it wouldn't amount to much. The insurance would pay to replace a lot of her belongings, but since there were only a few things that truly mattered, Mary didn't plan to go on a buying spree anytime soon. She leaned on her arms looking into the washing machine while her mind inventoried the lost treasures.
Pictures. Irreplaceable images of her as a little girl…with her father…happy. Photos of her and Brandi playing in the ocean and sledding down the dirty snowhills in supermarket parking lots. Lost memories of awards that once had meaning and power but now brought sad smiles of nostalgia instead. Boys and girls that she once knew, but were just faces on photopaper now that challenged her to remember why the picture remained.
A drawer full of momentos. The cloth bracelet woven by a small girl afraid of bad dreams, and given to her because the child thought her name was pretty. Pieces of origami tenderly folded by an old woman whose family was now safe because of them. Buttons from a bear and laces from ice skates. Birthday cards she never wanted from a man who never listened to her protests.
She didn't feel the tears or hear the footsteps, and Mary jumped slightly as Marshall came up behind her to rest his hands on her shoulders.
"Are you all right?"
"No." Mary shook her head as she continued to stare into the washer, "You know I don't have much that I'm attached to, but the few things I did have are now gone."
He turned her around she grabbed a handful of his t-shirt in her fists, "They have no right to do this to me, Marshall. I'm not going to stand by and wait for them to try again. I want to go and get them."
Marshall saw the anger and determination behind the tears and he knew he'd do anything he could to help her.
"I promise, when we know who we're after I'll help you do that."
"You won't try to stop me?" her eyes dared him.
"Not if you let me help. But I won't let you leave me behind." There was no way he'd let her charge into danger alone, and they both knew it.
Her nod of agreement slowly morphed into a sad shake of disbelief as she leaned her forehead against his chest, wondering when she had begun to count on him for comfort.
"I don't have anywhere to go." Mary whispered, thinking long term.
Marshall chuckled slightly as he coaxed her closer, "Don't be silly. You'll stay here as long as you need to. I'm not exactly going to kick you out."
The thought of being able to stay with Marshall was suddenly stabilizing, and Mary remembered their conversation earlier in the day about him taking care of her. Offering to back her up as she sought to decimate the threat against her and now bestowing compassion and shelter. He did it without thought and she found it way too easy to accept. That reminded her of another conversation.
"It should be easy." She mumbled to his t-shirt as he had managed to wrap her up against him.
"Did you just say I was easy?" He asked with false insult.
Mary had to giggle, "Let's just say if I put a light bulb in you, I'm pretty sure I could call you an oven." she leaned back to look up at him with a crooked smile.
His smile turned a bit predatory as his eyes darkened, "Oh, I'm positive I could heat you up."
"Already did," she thought in an instant. This man revved her engines faster than anyone ever had, and she already ached in all the right places. Deciding to put his setting on broil, Mary wiggled carefully against him as she stretched up to loop her arms around his neck. She was satisfied to see his lips part with a sigh and his eyes close briefly as her lips traced his jaw with a few small kisses.
Knowing he had to be careful with this woman who was now delightfully seducing him, Marshall slid his hands down her sides to slowly migrate around and cover her bottom. He so loved the feel of her ass, he decided. That tantalizing first experience this morning only made him want to get his hands on it again all day. His fingers flexed slightly as she pressed into him and he groaned with need.
"You are a dangerous woman, Miss Shannon. Loaded with all the right parts." His voice was husky and pitched low and it drove even more pangs of want through Mary.
Mary was trying to figure out how to get him naked in the laundry room when the doorbell rang as the pizza arrived.
Beating her head slightly against his chest as Marshall chuckled, Mary revised her earlier plans.
"Screw the cartel, I'm going to beat the shit out of the delivery boy."
He indulged himself with one last squeeze before reluctantly releasing her to go grab his wallet on the way to the door.
"And don't you tip him, either!" she called while starting the washing machine. Marshall gave the teenager an apologetic look and an extra dollar as Mary's comment carried to the front door.
"How in the hell did they miss them!?" Day was livid and waved his arm in the air as he paced while talking on the phone.
"I don't know." Damien replied, just as frustrated, but not out of control, "They were lined up like ducks in a shooting gallery."
"Well, think of something else! Find out where she's staying and have them hit that. Track her in the car. " Day was tossing out suggestions like a salad. He suddenly quieted as he heard Damien laughing softly on the other end, "What's so fucking funny?" he demanded.
Damien shook his head, "I told you she would be hard to remove. It's like there's some cosmic plan in play that we don't fit into." Sitting on the bench he had come to in the trail, he offered a suggestion, "Jack, we already know your cover's blown. What's the point of taking her out now? Revenge is a good way to end up in the chair."
"Because, asshole, I'm linked to you and Dominic, and you're both standing right in the line of fire." The operative's attitude was giving him a headache, "Tell you what, Dominic seems to be able to clean up his own mess, so why don't you follow suit and take care of her yourself."
"Oh," Damien drew out the word, "that's going to cost you well over the agreed upon price. You know I hate to do my own wetwork…too easy to get caught."
"You didn't have any problems pulling the trigger in Jersey." Day shot back.
"I had friends there. Managed to get hidden in the shuffle and keep my prints out of it." Damien explained, not knowing his prints had been captured, just not identified.
Day paced for a few more minutes and thought of the ramifications if Mary, her partners and the CIA continued to unravel clues as fast as they had so far. He had to throw this investigation off course, "I'll pay your fucking price, Suarez, just get me results. Don't worry about collateral damage either."
"There won't be any. I'm very precise." Damien hung up the call and began to plan.
*** So hard to write zest when one of the participants is in no shape for it!! :) So, Mary's still not off the hook in the death department. Stay tuned for more development and bad guy identification! I just can't tell you how wonderful the REVIEWs are. I want to especially thank farxy, kathiann, freaya, sfchemist, madscientist and jrfanfrommo for helping me with story ideas when I've been stuck! You've been great! ***