A/N: Happy New Year! Wouldn't it be nice if we had new episodes of IPS in 2016? But alas, we must be content with our fanfiction - because let's be honest, the ending was FAR from satisfying! And now, on with the story. . . .


"No more questions, Your Honor. Your witness, Ms. Stone."

Rietta got to her feet and came around the table, passing Stella on the way, and barely resisted the urge to stick her tongue out at her. The action would not have made a favorable impression on Judge Carlson, though it would have lightened the mood and given the jury something to chuckle about.

"Ms. Shannon – may I call you Mary?"

Mary gave a slight nod.

"Thank you, Mary. When you woke up and discovered that Marshall wasn't in the house and his truck was gone, did you know where he had gone?"

"Objection, Your Honor!" Stella cried, jumping to her feet. "She's asking the witness to read Mr. Mann's mind-"

"Something she's no doubt done many times over the course of their partnership, Your Honor-"

"Enough!" Judge Carlson barked. "Rephrase the question, Ms. Stone."

"Of course, Your Honor." She turned back to the witness stand with a slight smile. "I believe that you tried to contact Marshall on his cell phone?"

"Yes, it went straight to voicemail."

"Which you took to mean-?"

"It could have been turned off – but Marshall never turns his phone off due to the nature of our jobs. So the more likely reasons were that he was on the phone talking to someone or his phone battery had died."

"So how did you know where to go?"

Mary didn't dare look at Marshall as she answered, "Because I know him – you can't be partners with someone for ten years without anticipating their next move, knowing what they're going to do before they do it."

"So you knew when you woke up and he was gone that Marshall had gone to see Kenny."

Mary licked her lips. "Yes."

"So. You got in your car and drove over there – I'm sorry, did you say you made it all the way back to Kenny's house?"

"No."

"Why not?"

Mary's eyes fell shut. In some ways this was worse than reliving her assault – Rietta was taking her back to the scene of the accident – asking her to tell about finding Marshall, asking her to tell the court what-

"Mary? Are you all right?"

Her eyes flew open to see Rietta leaning towards her and over her shoulder she could see Marshall's face, etched with worry and love. She quickly averted her gaze. She couldn't look at him – not now, not if she wanted to get through this.

"I'm sorry, Mary, but the court needs to know. Where did you find Marshall that night?"

"At a stop light approximately two miles from Kenny's house – I was at the top of the hill and he was waiting at the light at the bottom," she cleared her throat. "The signal changed and another truck ran the red, hitting Marshall's in the intersection-" her voice broke as a tear splashed down her cheek.

Rietta's eyes were soft. "What did you do, Mary?"

Mary spoke on autopilot, trying hard to keep her emotions out of it. "I sped down the hill, dialing nine one one as I did. When I reached the scene, I got out and - I didn't want to, but I checked on the other driver first. He wasn't wearing a seat belt and his head had gone through the windshield-" there were gasps from the galley and Judge Carlson banged his gavel a couple of times.

Rietta waited for the murmurs to die down before she asked: "Was he dead?"

"Yes. I ran to the passenger side of Marshall's truck and climbed inside – he was coming in and out of consciousness. A large piece of glass from the windshield had pierced his neck and there was a lot of blood. I wanted to pull it out – but I'd had enough first aid training to know not to do that-" Mary fell silent, lost in the memories of that night.

"Mary, I know this is hard but I need you to focus on his hands for me. What did they look like?"

Mary blinked back the tears. "I – his hands were fine – the knuckles were a bit scraped and swollen, like he'd been in a recent fistfight, but I didn't give it much thought at the time."

Rietta nodded. "Did you see a gun in the car?"

"No," Mary shook her head. "Not in the car or on his person. Marshall didn't wear his gun when he was off duty."

"You said he was coming in and out of consciousness. Did he speak to you?"

Mary swallowed. "Yes."

"Did he confess to murdering Kenny Evans?"

Mary reared back in surprise. The two of them hadn't covered this in their pre-trial prep. Rietta was going off script and Mary wondered why – and how much she should divulge. This was very dangerous ground. "No!"

"What did Marshall say to you?"

Mary licked her lips. "He apologized for leaving me – said he never should have left, that confronting Kenny could have waited another day or two. And that he was sorry that he had to leave me and Norah now-" her throat constricted with emotion and she stopped to clear it.

Rietta picked up the unspoken words. "Marshall thought he was dying in that truck, didn't he?"

"Yes."

"And so, his last words to you were an apology of regret for leaving your side – and not a confession of guilt for murder, is that correct?"

"Objection, Your Honor!" Stella interrupted. "Ms. Stone is testifying and putting words in her client's mouth-"

Rietta held up her hand. "I withdraw my question, Your Honor." She winked at Mary. "No more questions."


Mary's house – 9 PM

Peter jerked the door open before the second knock had a chance to fall. "Shh," he held a finger to his lips. "The babies are asleep and Brandi's passed out on the couch – I don't want anything to wake her."

Marshall flushed. "I'm sorry, man, but I need to see Mary."

Peter held his ground. "She's asked to be left alone-"

Marshall clapped a hand on the other man's shoulder. "Well, that doesn't mean me-" as he sidestepped into the house.

Peter stepped in front of him blocking his path. "Actually, it does. She specifically said she doesn't want to see you right now."

Marshall's brow furrowed. "Why?"

Peter ran a hand down his face. "Look, I'm saying more than I should here, but I know how tenacious you can be when it comes to Mary so I know you won't be satisfied with a pat answer. She needs some time and space after court today, all right? You were there – she had to relive not only her assault but your accident-"

Marshall backed up until he could brace himself against the wall. "I had no idea she was a witness to that-"

Peter frowned. "I thought she told you-"

"What, when? I don't remember."

Peter waved Marshall's words away. "Anyway, right after court, she had an emergency session with her therapist and then she came home and locked herself in her room with Norah, telling us she didn't want to see or talk to anyone, especially you."

"I need to see her, Peter. Don't try and stop me."

"Or what?"

"Let him go, Peter," Brandi's sleepy voice came from the living room. "My sister needs to stop running from Marshall."

Marshall shot Peter a look of triumph as he entered the living room and crouched by the sofa. "I'm sorry, Bee. I didn't mean to wake you." He brushed back wisps of her sandy hair, feeling pangs of guilt for the dark smudges under her eyes.

"Don't," she shook her head. "I'm tired because PM has a touch of colic – but he's sleeping now."

"And so should you," he leaned forward and kissed her cheek.

"Go talk some sense into my sister," Brandi mumbled sleepily into her pillow. "She loves you."

Marshall chuckled and was saved from replying as Brandi began to snore softly. He looked up to see Peter glowering from the end of the sofa.

"What's your problem, Peter? You know I love Brandi like a sister – Mary's the one that has my heart."

Peter relaxed. "I know that – it's just – I never thought I'd get a second chance with her, you know?"

Marshall nodded.

"But I'm no saint, Marshall. There's still a part of me that's hurt and angry that she left me the way she did instead of talking to me about her fears-"

Marshall grinned. "That's not the way Shannon women operate, Peter. They react and run. We have to chase and catch them – then we can talk to them."

"Don't you ever get tired of the chase?"

"Not when the prize is Mary Shannon."

Peter sighed and sat down on the coffee table and studied the sleeping visage of Brandi. "It doesn't make the pain go away-"

Marshall looked down the hall towards Mary's locked door – the one that kept him and the rest of the world out. "No, it doesn't."

Peter looked up and followed Marshall's gaze before dropping back to Brandi's face. "So, tell me, Marshall, is it worth it? Fighting through all their walls and fears and running after them to bring them back to start at square one over and over again?"

"Only you can answer that, my friend."


"Open the door, Mer."

"Go away, Marshall. I left explicit instructions that I didn't want to see anyone, especially you-"

"Do you think that I won't hesitate to break this door down just because children are sleeping? Then you won't have any privacy-"

There was a click as the lock was disengaged. "You bastard-" she hissed as she threw open the door. "What part of 'I don't want to be disturbed' don't you understand?"

He backed her into the room, shutting the door behind him, as he drew her into his arms.

"Let me go." She struggled and flailed in his arms, her hands curling into his fists and beating his chest.

"Never."

Her fists stilled and she tried to appeal to his sense of reason. "Marshall, members of the press follow you twenty four seven. I have no doubt that right now my house is surrounded by newshounds, waiting to get pictures of us in compromising situations-"

He laughed. "Well, that's not going to happen!"

"And I can just see tomorrow's headline: 'US Marshal on trial for murder spends night with girlfriend'."

"You're not my girlfriend – well, not yet, anyway."

She hit him in the chest, hard. "Not ever! You're not listening to me: you have to leave, now. We can't be seen together – not now, don't you understand?"

"And I'm not leaving you alone – not after today. My God, Mer, I had no idea." He lifted his hands and cupped her face. "I've always known you were strong but-"

"Don't," she shook her head. "Please."

"You were sexually assaulted and then hours later were the only witness to my accident – an accident that I nearly died from-"

She threw herself out of his embrace. "I said don't! I can't –" she was shaking from head to foot and it was breaking his heart to see it. "It was bad enough talking about it in open court but I can't – not with you, all right? Not with you looking at me like that –"

"Like what, Mer?" he whispered, taking a step towards her.

She held up a hand, backing away from him. "I knew exactly what you'd want to do if and when you came over here, Marshall Mann, and I can't, all right? My energy reserves are on empty and I have nothing left to give. All I want to do is crawl into my bed and sleep for the next forty eight hours. But I can't do that because every time I close my eyes, I'm back in that truck with you, and you're bleeding and telling me-"

"What, Mer? What am I telling you?"

Her arms were wrapped around herself and she was rocking back and forth in an attempt not to fly apart. "That you're sorry you have to leave me – that you're sorry we can't have a life together-"

He took two steps toward her. "Mary-"

She backed away again. "NO! You need to go because if you touch me right now, I'll – I'll-" she turned away from him and slumped to the floor. He was there in an instant, wrapping himself around her, molding his body to hers, crooning nonsense words of comfort in her ear, as the storm broke. Sobs deep and painful racked her body and she shook like a young tree in the wind and he held her tighter, whispering his love and reassurance that he was still there with her.


Marshall watched her chest rise and fall with each breath, glad for the moment she was sleeping peacefully. The two of them had stayed on the floor until the worst of her storm had passed and then he had swept her into his arms and carried her to the bed. But when he had tried to stand up, her fingers dug like talons into his forearms.

"Shh, love. I'm just getting a wet cloth for your eyes. I'll be right back, I promise."

She had released him reluctantly and when he returned had latched onto him with the fierceness of a lioness with her mate. He chuckled as he placed the cool cloth over her eyes and settled on top of the mattress with her, knowing that for the moment her guard was completely down but being a smart man, he knew it wouldn't last. And it didn't. As soon as she began to drift, she rolled away from him and he got up to exchange the cloth for a fresh one.

He must have dozed off himself because he had no idea what time it was when he opened his eyes – the room was completely dark and still. Glancing at Norah's play pen, he saw that it was empty and he panicked until he remembered that Brandi and Peter were in the house. One of them had most likely crept in and taken her while they slept. The fact that he hadn't woken up showed how exhausted and in need of sleep he himself had been.

Mary stiffened next to him on the bed. "Marshall?" she croaked, her hand coming up to lift the cloth off her eyes. "Are you-"

"Right here."

She rolled to her back and her eyes met his in the darkness. "You stayed. I thought-"

"What? That I'd leave? Or that it had been a dream?"

She shook her head. "No, my puffy eyes and the raging headache are a dead giveaway that it wasn't a dream." She lifted a hand to her temples but he stopped her.

"Let me."

Her eyes widened. "I don't think-"

"Mary, stop thinking so much. Here," he patted his lap.

She rolled until her head was in his lap, her feet dangling off the side of bed. His fingers began a gentle massage on her temples, and her eyes fluttered shut as her mouth fell open in relaxation.

"Feel good?"

"Hmm, yes."

"I'm glad."

For several minutes, neither of them spoke as Marshall continued to massage Mary's temples as she drifted in the state between consciousness and sleep.

"Where did you learn how to do this?" she finally murmured sleepily.

He smiled in the darkness. "My mama had severe migraines and medication would take the edge off but what helped the most was lying in a dark room, no noise, and me massaging her temples."

Mary's eyes opened. "You miss her terribly."

"I do. She was my best friend, before I met you. The only other woman to understand me."

"What about Abigail?"

His fingers stilled and Mary could have cut out her tongue. "I'm sorry, Marshall, that was – please just forget I-" she started to sit up but his hands on the sides of her head stopped her.

"No, you surprised me, is all. We haven't talked about her since that day on the balcony – and you bringing her up now makes me wonder why?"

She shrugged a shoulder. "Curiosity?"

He quirked an eyebrow at her. "Are you sure that's all it is?"

"I was just surprised to hear you say that your mom and I are the only women to understand you – since you were engaged to marry Abigail."

He nodded sadly. "I think that's why she broke it off in the end. She realized that our relationship was a lie – that my heart was yours."

Mary shivered. "Don't say that."

"Why? It's the truth."

"Because I've broken it over and over again. I don't deserve you."

"We don't always get what we deserve – but we can get what we want, if we're brave enough to ask for it. So tell me, Mary Shannon, what do you want?"

Her breath caught in her throat. She had lost track of the number of times over the years that he had asked her 'what do you need' – but now he was asking her what she wanted. Did she dare tell him? What if it broke them both? Perhaps if she started with something small—

"Mary?" he whispered, bending down until his mouth was close to her ear. "What do you want?"

She turned her head until their eyes locked and held.

"I want you to kiss me."


A/N: I know, I'm mean to leave it there - but I promise not to leave you hanging for too long! Reviews are LOVE!