Picking this back up because I started rewatching the series on Amazon Prime and I have fallen down the rabbit hole all over again. And I'm just as annoyed as I ever was about the way things turned out, so here we go! Hopefully more coming soon!

Thanks so much for the reviews! Please keep them coming!

xxxxxx

Mary's emotions were being torn in every direction. As if Friday and the rest of the weekend hadn't been one of the larger emotional roller coasters she had been on, her father now decides to show up. She needed to give Marshall the benefit of the doubt. Just because he was home didn't mean he had chosen to stay with Abigail. She knew that this was one of those moments where she needed to let Marshall in, show him she could change, but she couldn't just come out and say that she needed him. Now she was questioning if she even should. They had left things rather ambiguously the other night and hadn't spoken since. He had made it clear that he still had a lot to think about. She spent the rest of the weekend alternately planning for the worst and convincing herself they would be just fine. She hadn't expected him to be home without giving her an update about what he planned to do.

xxx

Twenty minutes after he'd hung up the phone, Marshall was walking down the corridor to the lobby where Mary sat. Her back was turned towards him as he approached, and he realized she was deep in thought by the surprise she expressed when he whispered her name.

"What are you doing here? I told you to stay home. I can handle this. Your four in the morning hair, by the way, is not your best look," Mary threw with irritation.

He was flustered by her insult, and fixed his hair. He should have expected the abrasiveness after disobeying her orders. "So, you okay?" She nodded. "What the hell happened?"

"What do you mean? I told you what the hell happened," she snapped.

"Yeah, the Cliff Notes."

"Marshall..."

"The guy comes in from the cold after three decades. Forgive me for wanting the unabridged version"

"I told you that I only called because I didn't want you to hear about this mess from anyone else. I'm fine," she stated dismissively.

"Mary. It's me, okay?" She looked at him like he was a complete idiot. He was trying hard not to feel like one. He knew she was throwing up every possible defense and he was determined to plow through each one of them. Two nights ago, she had spoken of the ways she had changed and would continue to grow to accommodate a life they could build together. He knew this turn of events threw a huge emotional obstacle in that path but he didn't want her to turn back now. "Alright, I talked to the special agent in charge, there is nothing else for you to do here. Let's go, I'm going to follow you home."

"I don't need a goddamn escort," she retorted, feigning offense with an artificially confident grin. But the inappropriateness of the grin gave away her pain, something only Marshall could see.

"I'm gonna follow you home," he repeated, with a gravely serious tone.

She glared at him for a moment, trying to protest but no words would come. The glare quickly softened to a simple look of frustration, her eyes inadvertently revealing the war she was waging with herself - let him in or push him away. She stood up and stormed down the hallway without a word.

xxx

Marshall pulled into her driveway and quickly stepped out of his car to follow her into the house.

"Where do you think you're going?" Mary asked with a volatile edge as she walked away from her own car.

"Inside," he replied simply, falling into step right behind her.

"You said you were following me home. I didn't say you could come in," she glared at him as she approached her front door, not opening it.

"Mary," he said incredulously. He was more than willing to cut her some slack, but she was being unreasonable. They had made so much progress the other night and now she had fully retreated. "Why are you doing this?" he asked with pain and confusion.

"Look, I get it. You've made your choice and that's fine. I just can't deal with that right now on top of this," she spoke, her voice catching on the last three words, near tears but fiercely determined to not let a single one drop.

"What are you talking about?"

"You should get home to Abigail."

"Is that what you think I did?" he asked, finally putting the pieces together. She didn't answer. "Let's go inside."

She crossed her arms across her chest, lifted her chin and steeled her jaw in defiance. He almost laughed, but the moment was far from funny. He didn't know why she protested so much when he knew she wanted him to come in. "Mary," he reasoned and took a step closer to the door, placing his hand on the knob.

She unwrapped her arms angrily and dug out her keys with a huff. She shoved the key into the lock and turned it, then Marshall pushed the door open.

She threw her jacket onto the couch and stormed into the kitchen. She wanted whiskey but chose water instead. After pouring a glass, she stayed at the sink, defensively half-turned away from him. Marshall placed his jacket on the back of the couch and spoke to her from where he stood. "I went home because I didn't want to leave Las Cruces at 3 o'clock in the morning in order to get to work on time. I got home at 11. I have not spoken to Abigail about any of this. I haven't 'made my choice'" he said, his fingers raised in mildly sarcastic air quotes, to express that he didn't regard this situation as something so flippant. He took a few steps closer. "But I will tell you," he paused to take a slow breath, "that last night when I laid down in bed, next to her, I felt like I was betraying you."

His admission compelled her to turn her head quickly towards him. Her body still faced the sink but she was at least looking at him now, eyes questioning and pain evident. Knowing he went to bed next to her felt like a betrayal, though she knew she had no right to feel that way. He returned her gaze, with both empathy and heartache, and continued to speak. "I did not have that feeling about Abigail when I was here with you the other night. I feel horrible for withholding the truth from her. I don't want to break her heart. But when you and I kissed, I felt like time stopped and there was no place else on earth that I was supposed to be. So that's where I'm at. Two nights ago, you made a promise to me. Please Mary. Do not go back on that now."

He could see the muscles in her face soften a little at his honesty. Looking back down at her glass, she whispered, "Why do these things have to be happening at the same time?" She faintly shook her head in exasperation, then let it fall back, looking up towards the ceiling, and groaned, "What the fuuuuck?"

He took a few more steps towards her, now only a couple feet away. "I know, Mare. The timing could not be worse. But I'm still here for you," he paused as she slowly looked towards him and he gazed into her eyes. "Can I touch you?" he asked gently.

She slowly nodded and he reached out his hand to take hold of hers. Her other hand still held her glass. She looked down at where they were joined and took a slow breath in, then out. She appreciated him not reaching out to grab her without asking. Only Marshall understood and would know to be cautious but still tender about touching her. She wanted his touch, perhaps more than anything else in this moment. They stood silently, with just his hand gently squeezing hers. After a several breaths, she placed her glass in the sink, then slowly slid her hand out from inside his, while she simultaneously took steps towards him to close the distance. He opened his arms immediately and was relieved that she had taken solace in his arms.

'Thank you," he whispered. "I'm sorry this is not resolved before this happened. I understand that it is hard to lean on me when you aren't sure where we stand. But this is life. This is the time when I need to know you will let me in." She nodded in understanding and he lightly rubbed her back.

She eventually spoke, her head turned, temple resting on his chest. "I guess I was just surprised to find that you went home. To her. I thought we would talk again before you did anything."

"And you are right. I haven't done anything. Just endless hours of thinking and feeling. But I need to go to work tomorrow, today, and I needed clothes. I needed to see Abigail to see what I felt in her presence, after everything we've discussed. I still need to figure out how to move forward."

She nodded, acknowledging that he had told her what he felt.

"But Mare, I didn't come here to keep torturing you with this. If you want to talk about what happened, I'm here. I just wanted to be with you to make sure you are okay." He pulled back to look at her and softly traced his fingertips down the right side of her face.

"I'm okay," she nodded twice and sighed, then leaned back into his chest. "There really isn't a whole lot to tell. I was about to go to bed. It was so late the only person I could have expected it to be was you." she sounded fleetingly hopeful with those words, like she may have had a smile on her face as she walked to the door. "I didn't look out the window first, like I did the other night when you came. I opened the door without hesitation, then BSHHHH." Her fingers made fists against his back, then splayed open, emulating an explosion. "He said my name. Before he spoke though, I knew it was him. He looked exactly the same. Just older." She shook her head recalling her disbelief. "He asked to come in. I let him. I was so curious about what he was going to say, after all this time, and he immediately launched into telling me he was in trouble and had no one else to turn to but me. I told him how I'd thought about this moment in a million different ways but it always ended the same. And then I arrested him."

"Jesus," Marshall replied and held her just a little bit tighter. "The fucking nerve of that guy. Only appears because he needs something."

"Yeah. Doesn't waste any time getting to the point of only caring about himself." She shook her head again this time in disgust. Marshall's heart ached for her. He again wondered how she ended up so selfless, surrounded by her selfish family members. There was no question her abrasive exterior was a natural result. He felt like the only one in the world who really saw her. The good, the bad, and most of all, the why. She continued with a shrug. "So, I called the FBI. Called Mark, who was none too pleased with a middle of the night call, to come get Norah, then went in after them to be there for booking and questioning, which really was nothing at this point. Then I called you. End of story."

"Did you really think I wouldn't come when you told me not to?" he asked as he ran a gentle stroke through her hair.

She smiled slightly into his shoulder. She knew he would come no matter what she said. "Maybe? I thought you might. I hoped you would." Marshall recognized how significant that confession was for her.

"Nothing would have stopped me," he whispered as he gave her a tender squeeze.

They were silent for a few more moments.

"The thing that is so striking to me is that I finally realize how much I built him up and put him on this pedestal. But he's just like any other loser who walks out on his family and lives for a life of crime."

He softly stroked her back and empathized. "He was your father. You spent most of your childhood creating a narrative that idealized a life that didn't exist." He shook his head, wishing she could have grown up with less pain. "I wish I could have been your friend when we were 7."

Mary released a brief chuckle. "That's really sweet Marshall." She pulled away just enough to look at him. "But I would've kicked your ass then too."

It was Marshall's turn to laugh, and he pulled her back into his chest. They both appreciated a lighter moment. Mary spoke again, "I'm not trying to push you out the door, but it almost 5."

"Yeah. I should go," he whispered while making no move to separate from her embrace. It was even harder to leave her in this moment than it was the other night. It felt wrong to not lay down with her, after this momentous turn of events, and try to sleep. But it was wrong to do just that while Abigail was waiting for him. He sighed audibly then took a slow deep breath. After the exhale he lowered his face to snuzzle his nose to the top of her head. She gave him a small squeeze in response.

"What are we doing Marshall?" she asked, feeling too comfortable in his arms.

He inhaled sharply and lifted his head. "I'm struggling Mare. I spent most of the last decade wanting you, wanting us, but a year ago you made it clear to me there would never be an us, and I had no other choice but to move on." He swallowed hard and paused a moment before continuing. "It is hard to walk away from someone who, up until a little more than 48 hours ago, I thought I would be spending the rest of my life with. But it isn't fair to her to stay in the relationship if I still, STILL," he repeated with a touch of disbelief, "have feelings for you. And knowing that, there is only one choice; giving us a chance."

She stood motionless, but her arms remained wrapped tightly around him and her heart raced inside of her chest. He thought for a moment before continuing, questioning how much more to say, but quickly deciding to throw it all out there. He needed to make sure she could take it.

He gently traced her mid-spine with his fingers, up and down, and continued. "When I'm with you, there is nowhere else in the world I want to be. But when I'm with her, I look fondly to the future, and I'm worried about whether or not you really want to build a life with me. That's the thing that holds me back. I want to build a life with someone. I know that could have been Abigail. I need to know that you want to build a life together and all the good times and the hard times that go along with that. I know that's a lot to ask of you to say, when the person asking you to do it is themselves trying to decide what path to walk. But I want to share my life with someone Mary. I need to. Can you let go and be that person?"

She toyed, nervously, with the belt loop at the middle of his lower back. "I'm… I'm scared too Marshall. I don't want this to blow up in our faces. Our years of partnership have built a trust that I've never, ever, had with anyone else. You're the only person I could trust enough to even let into my life to build something with… I don't know if I know how. To build with someone. You… But I want to. I can't promise you that I will be soft, and easy to deal with, and spill all of my guts to you all the time. But I can promise to try."

He nodded and sighed, allowing himself to feel some momentary peace. He kissed the top of her head, conveying his acceptance of her reassurance. Her self-doubt did not bother him; rather, it was evidence to the thought she was giving to the situation and how much she cared. He slowly started to speak again. "I'm not trying to drag this out, Mare. The fact that I'm standing here, telling you everything when I haven't even talked to her about a thing, speaks volumes about where I stand. I'm going to talk to her as soon as possible. But I need the timing to be more appropriate. Like talking to her in the afternoon rather than midnight. And I need enough time. Squeezing in a chat before work is not fair."

"Yeah," she agreed and nodded into his chest. She didn't like waiting for a resolution, but knew she needed to give him the space and respect to handle everything in a way that was right for him.

"Okay," Marshall said with conviction. He pulled back a little so he could look at her. "Will you please sleep? Go into work late? Take the day off?"

"Ha," Mary retorted, without any glee, and pulling back the rest of the way to separate and send him on his way.

"Please?" he asked as he squeezed her hand.

"I'll try to sleep," she conceded, both of them knowing she would never promise to not go into work. They walked towards the door, Marshall leading and still holding her hand. He opened the door with his other hand, then released her hand to gently stroke the side of her face.

"I'll check on you later," he said as he stepped back into the doorframe.

"Isn't your dad supposed to be visiting today?"

He stopped in his tracks. "Shit!" he exclaimed and ran his fingers through his hair. "I totally forgot with everything going on," he groaned, knowing things were going to get even messier. His father was passing through on business and he had invited him to stay for a couple nights because he was expecting to introduce him to his new fiancée. When he talked to him early last week, Marshall had told him he would be proposing on Friday. He looked at his watch knowing he had to be at the airport in a few hours.

"Take care of your dad," she replied. "Mine isn't going anywhere. And I just want to wash my hands of all that."

Marshall twisted his lips, knowing both that nothing with Mary's father could be that simple and that Mary wasn't one to easily wash her hands of anything. He leaned forward and kissed her on the cheek. "I'll call you in a bit. Goodnight."

"Goodnight," she replied and closed the door when he reached his truck.

She walked to her bedroom and changed her clothes. She knew she wouldn't be able to sleep but she's promised Marshall she would try. She laid in bed, restless for a while, but did manage to squeeze in a couple hours. However, when she woke at 8am and was again bombarded by the memories of the previous evening's events, she dragged herself out of bed, seeking the solace of a busy day at work. As she showered and reluctantly contemplated her father's return, she felt her anger slowly rise.