AN: The extended scene has been posted as the second chapter in Albuquerque, we have an extended scene. I recommend reading it before you read this chapter if you are old enough to do so. If you're not, or you don't want to read it for some other reason, you won't be missing any plot development that isn't covered in the main story.

Albuquerque, we have a problem

Chapter 54 – Benefits of the Job

Marshall woke to the sound of an alarm he didn't recall setting.

Movement behind him reminded him he was not alone. A cold draft against his back told him Mary was searching for her Blackberry, discarded last night along with her jeans. He smiled as the image of her standing naked before him drifted across his mind, but quickly sobered as he remembered other details of their act.

He turned to face her, finding her laying on her back, Blackberry held aloft as she checked her messages. He let his hand snake across her stomach.

"Morning," she said, attention still on the device.

"Mare," he began softly, wanting to have a conversation with her, but struggling with how to broach the topic on his mind.

"That was Stan," she said, oblivious to his dilemma, "reminding me that one of us has to be on duty in an hour."

"Okay," Marshall said, pausing for breath before diving in, "Mare, last night...we, ummm...we, ummm..."

Mary stopped looking at her phone to fix him with a piercing stare, "We what?"

"We didn't use protection," he said hurriedly.

Mary shrugged and returned her attention to the Blackberry, relieved that this wasn't going to be about feelings or some other nonsense.

"Aren't you worried about getting pregnant?" he asked.

"I'm on the pill," she told him.

"That's not the only reason to use a condom, Mare," he pointed out.

Mary glanced at him and shrugged once more, "I trust you," she said, knowing he would never put her at risk to something as preventable as an STD.

Marshall considered what she was saying and realised her implicit trust in him was a mirror of his. He let the subject drop. It wasn't the conversation he wanted to be having and hearing her explicitly state her trust in him, something that had always been there but had never been referred to, on top of last night's admission that she had missed him over the last few days, raised too many questions in his mind about her feelings for him.

"Do you want me to take the first shift so you can go home and change?" Marshall offered. "Or should we flip for it?" he added when he got no response.

"I've got a better way of deciding who's first," Mary said with a seductive smile. She hopped out of bed and strolled toward the bathroom. She leant in the doorway and looked back at Marshall.

"I'm going to take a shower," she told the puzzled man. "Do you want to join me?"

xxx

Stan had taken another shift guarding the Delcroix family.

He hadn't wanted to after the previous 12 hours he'd spent with them. They'd been asleep for eight of the twelve hours he'd been on duty, but the remaining four hours had given him a unique insight into what had lead Marshall to yell at them.

He'd ended up agreeing to swapping with Mary; she could be persuasive when she wanted to be and just scary the rest of the time. When he'd arrived shortly after the midday shift change with the news that they'd got the okay from the DoJ for the family to return home, she'd insisted on making the travel arrangements. As they were technically her witnesses, Stan had let her and agreed to take over her shift so he'd be out of earshot when Mary and Eleanor started antagonising each other.

In the end, that had proven to be a mistake.

He found himself longing for Mary and Eleanor's playful bickering which always held evidence of the grudging respect the two women shared as easily as they shared the secrets he didn't want to be included in. Denise and Jean-Michel's bickering, on the other hand, had taken on a decidedly nasty tone that afternoon that had him retreating to guard the corridor.

As another French profanity drifted through the heavy double doors of the suite, Stan passed a weary hand across his forehead and silently pleaded with the Gods of Aviation that Mary would be able to arrange their transfer soon.

xxx

Mary slammed the phone down and rested her head in her hands. Her hair fell forward, forming a curtain that walled her off from the world.

"How's that threat assessment coming?" she asked Marshall from behind her protective barrier.

She heard his rustling movement as he left his chair and made his way to the coffee pot.

"No luck?" he asked.

Mary didn't bother to reply, just huffed so that her hair lifted slightly.

"I've only just started it," Marshall answered her original question as he placed a peace offering of coffee next to her elbow. She looked up at the sound.

"What the hell have you been doing for the last hour?"

"I don't know, Mare, there may have been some paperwork left over from yesterday's little snafu."

"You told me to dump it on Eleanor," Mary said with a shrug, "Is it my fault you're her whipping boy?"

Marshall shot her an unimpressed look and returned to his computer, wondering whether it would be worth going slow just to irritate her more or if he would pay for it later. One glance at her told him it was the latter.

She was unusually stressed today considering she'd gotten a full night's sleep the night before and 'de-stressed' with him in the shower this morning. Even Eleanor had commented on Mary's short temper before she had left for lunch.

Marshall wondered what could have caused the shift of mood from the teasing one this morning that had her suggesting whoever came first would 'win' the first shift with the Delcroix'. Despite his desire to please her, for her own sake and to avoid the family for as long as possible, he had lost, although not by much.

He had dropped Mary at her house before heading over to the hotel to collect his prize. On the way over, she had told him that she'd been planning to get Brandi to drive her to the garage to collect her supposedly fixed car. He knew that thanks to a screw up by the garage it had been a wasted trip, but that alone wasn't enough to explain the tension in her posture, however, maybe Brandi's presence was.

He decided to put off the threat assessment and wandered over to Mary. She was engrossed in what was on her computer screen and so didn't give Marshall, standing behind her, much thought.

Until, that is, she felt his hands on her shoulders.

"What the hell do you think you are doing?" she yelped.

"What? You enjoyed it last night," he said, referring to the massage he had given her and had been intending to repeat.

"Are you retarded? We're at work, you dumbass!"

Marshall was perplexed, "So it's okay at home, but not at work?"

Marshall took her sullen silence as agreement.

"Duly noted," he said as he returned to his desk.

Mary stared at her screen, no longer seeing the words.

After a while she broke the silence, saying slowly, "You know that last night was only because I had hardly seen you all week, don't you?"

"So you decided you wanted to see me all weak," Marshall said before he could engage his brain.

Mary glared at him, "I'm serious here, Marshall."

Marshall sobered quickly; this was the conversation he'd been waiting for.

"So, what, then? What is this to you?" he cut to the chase.

Mary thought for a long time, not having the right words to describe how she felt about the entire situation. She thought back to the previous night, her mind focusing initially on the moment they'd shared on the couch before turning to the passion they'd shared in bed. She found herself wanting to repeat the experience. And sooner rather than later.

But even with all the possible benefits being in a relationship with Marshall would bring, she couldn't shake the memory of her abandonment by Raph. The prospect of loosing Marshall in the same way loomed large in her mind and caused a pain in her chest that made her breath hitch.

She looked at Marshall, patiently waiting for her response. As she studied him, an idea formed. Perhaps there was a way to have the best of both worlds and maintain the status quo. She just needed to take a chance and offer him something.

She began hesitantly, sounding out the words slowly and watching for Marshall's reaction.

"This is two friends taking care of each other and each other's...needs," she finished with a slight grimace at the word 'needs'.

"Friends with benefits?" Marshall clarified.

Mary nodded slowly, "Yeah. Are you okay with that?"

Marshall was still and silent for so long that Mary wondered if he had heard the question. Then another, more disturbing, thought entered her mind: what if he was trying to find a way to turn her down?

She turned back to her screen, wanting to save them both the embarrassment of a rejection. The movement seemed to break Marshall out of his trance.

"I think I could live with that," he finally replied, calmly ignoring the twinge of pain in his own chest. He knew she felt something more for him, he'd seen it in the way she looked at him last night, and he wanted to believe that she'd admit it eventually.

Mary felt a wave of relief sweep over her. Her mood shifted from the funk she'd been in since the phone call she'd received that morning to almost jubilant. A change so rapid and extreme even she noticed it and couldn't attribute to anything other than Marshall's acceptance of her offer. She pushed her observation to the back of her mind, resolving to think about it later. Right now, she didn't want to miss the opportunity to tease her partner and lay down some ground rules.

"Okay then. But that's all it is," she warned him with mock sternness, "I don't want you getting all emotional and going all girly-boy on me."

Her tone was mocking and there was a glimmer of playfulness in her eye as she finished. Any fool could see she was joking. But Marshall knew her better than she knew herself and he saw something deeper, darker, in her that told him she wasn't entirely joking.

"Ah, many a true word is spoken in jest," he replied, calling her out and cursing himself for not being able to stick to his resolution to take what was being offered and be grateful for it.

She shrugged and looked away, embarrassed that it had taken him pointing out the truth in her words for her to see it and wondering what sort of person they made her. No wonder Raph had left her; she had made the same demand of him although she had never stated it quite as bluntly as she just had to Marshall. She silently cursed her dad. She knew where her insecurities stemmed from, she just didn't know how to overcome them and was starting to wonder if she would ever be capable of loving someone the way she should.

As she often did, she hid her hurt and doubts in anger.

She stood up suddenly, flicking her hair back over her shoulder sharply. "Well, if you can't agree to something simple like that," she tailed off, shrugging to indicate her ambivalence at the arrangement.

Marshall stared at her calmly, ignoring her tone and addressing her implicit question, "It's not reasonable to ask someone to control their emotions, Mare, only their actions are under their conscious control."

"Well, act like you don't care, then!" she snapped, unthinking.

Marshall visibly blanched at her words.

"Is that what you really want, Mare?" he asked gently.

"Yes!" she said, defiantly looking him in the eye, daring him to challenge her.

She said it with such conviction that Marshall was astonished but didn't question her.

Once again, Marshall found himself at a point in his life where he faced a decision as to whether to put his needs before those of a loved one or not. Did he agree to her demand, give her what she wanted and continue sleeping with her even though he'd know it meant nothing to her? Or did he deny her, and him, physical comfort in the hope that one day he would have the full partnership with her that he desired?