Author's note: I am thrilled to see that there are still a few people out there still reading! It's nice to share in our frustrations about the ending! I could go on and on, and I love hearing the thoughts of others about it, but of course I know no one in real life who cares. LOL I'm an original X Files fan, so I'm no stranger to show writers doing terrible things to the characters and the ending, but the amount that In Plain Sight bothers me has stuck FAR more. HA!

Pieces of dialogue from Season 5, Episode 6 "Medal of Mary" are used, and not noted when used. If you have any memory of the episode, you will recognize it. It is also altered as I see fit to accommodate this story. Self-edited, sorry for any errors.

Enjoy! More to come!

xxxxx

Marshall arrived home a little after 5:30am. He sighed knowing he couldn't go back to bed. Getting to work early would be ideal anyway, as Stan would need to be brought up to speed on the James Shannon situation and he wanted to go back to the FBI himself to find out the latest. He headed straight for the shower, the sound of which naturally woke Abigail.

"Hey," she said as she poked her head into the shower.

"Hey," he replied as he scrubbed his face with his hands under the hot stream of water.

"So, what happened?" she softly inquired.

"Officially, not much at this point, but I'm sure today will change that. She arrested him and he's in FBI custody. But the emotional turmoil for Mary is shifting into high gear. She says she's fine. But, you know…" Abigail nodded. "I needed to make sure she didn't spend the whole night down there. I followed her home."

She nodded. "Are you getting ready for work?"

"Yeah," he sighed. "I really need to get in to go over everything with Stan."

"Okay," she responded and walked away closing the bathroom door behind her. She was obviously displeased but knew she couldn't stand in the way of his work, as she wouldn't want anyone standing in the way of hers. The Mary factor in this situation bothered her more than she wanted it to. As she and Marshall continued to build their lives together, his dependent friendship with Mary could not continue on the path it always had. She had hoped that being supportive and accepting of their closeness would be more constructive in changing their patterns than by being objectionable to it. She didn't feel threatened by Mary, as nothing about Marshall's relationship with her seemed anything more than platonic and largely revolved around their work. But the energy of their work-related closeness was just… different from other law enforcement partnerships she had experienced. Marshall was fiercely loyal to the few in his small circle; she loved that quality about him. She couldn't force Mary out of that group simply because she felt Marshall responded too quickly to her. She sighed as she got back into bed. They'd been so happy since moving in together. Perhaps just giving it more time would naturally resolve the situation.

Marshall was relieved she didn't push him at this moment. He contemplated dropping the bomb now but he didn't want a drawn-out conversation to get in his way of talking to Stan. This evening, he resolved to himself. He'd put his dad up in a hotel, then join him when it was done.

He finished his shower, shaved, and got dressed. When he returned to the bedroom, Abigail appeared to have fallen back to sleep, so he quickly gathered what he needed for the day and departed for work.

xxxxx

Mary stood, impatiently waiting for the elevator to arrive at her floor. She couldn't seem to relax her face from contorting into an angry scowl. While she desperately wanted to be at work, she was nervous, and therefore agitated, about how she was supposed to interact with Marshall. The extra attention she was due to receive for the reappearance of her father didn't thrill her either. And these things were on top of her still processing her father's return. She didn't want to be nasty to Marshall but she didn't know how to deal with her anger in this moment. Working was the only thing that would release some of the pressure. She also kind of felt like she was supposed to play her usual angry role, in order to not reveal anything that was occurring between her and Marshall. Having to navigate new waters right now just increased her frustration.

The door finally opened and Mary blustered into the office. Everyone froze and stood with a deafening silence. All except for Delia's whisper of, "Marshall."

"Mary!" Marshall exclaimed as he looked up, shocked to see her there. He'd thought she would sleep for a few hours after he'd left.

"Marshall," she responded, voicing her irritation. She knew he would be upset that she had come in and deep down she was glad he cared so much, but on the surface, his worry just added to her anger.

"Mary," Stan interjected with displeasure.

"Are we doing the Marshall/Mary thing?" Mary asked, with even more annoyance.

"Did you get my messages?" Stan asked.

"All five of them. It's close to pushing a restraining order to the top of my Amazon wish list," she replied acerbically.

"Mary, it's the day after the night you arrested your own father. This is the part when you talk," Stan spoke sincerely, and like he actually thought she would respond favorably to his concern.

"What's the big deal? He showed up on my doorstep, I slapped on the cuffs, read a Miranda and dropped him off at the FBI. Furthermore, Stan, when have you ever known me to talk about my feelings?" she looked at him with an aggravated glare.

Stan's phone rang at just the right moment for Mary, and he excused himself from their conversation. Marshall had stood watching from the side. Her mood was a clear departure from how they left things a few hours ago. He knew she had a lot to process, but it was hard for him to push away the knight-on-a-white-horse urge to whisk her away. It would solve nothing, of course. In fact, with Mary, it would only make things worse. She needed to work through it and anger was where she started. As Stan walked away, Marshall could see the angry façade briefly fade from her face. She looked contemplative, as if relieving a distant memory, so he gave her a few moments. When he saw her expression shift back to frustration and she resumed settling into her desk, he approached her.

"Why did you come in so early?" Marshall asked.

"Early? It's nine o'clock. And if you wanted me to rest so badly, maybe you should've stopped him from calling me a hundred times. Shouldn't you be at the airport picking up your father?" Mary snarled.

"I'm headed there in just a few minutes." He expected her abrasive attitude but it still stung a little given their recent progress in their communication skills. "Any revelations with the light of a new day?" Marshall asked empathetically.

Mary bristled. Did he really think she was going to talk about it now? In front of everyone? She did appreciate his sensitivity, but she genuinely wanted to get to work and pretend none of this was happening right now. She needed to push him away. "Look, he made his choices, I'm making mine. And mine is to skip any strolls down memory lane. Maybe his new family feels differently. He was with them a hell of a lot longer." She knew that Marshall knew her dismissal was an absolute lie, but she needed to throw up the illusion that she could smoothly slip into a normal day of work. He implicitly understood the pain she felt at both the memories of her father and the existence of his second family.

"Are you going back to the FBI later? I can come with," Marshall offered, trying not to let her abrasiveness get to him. He didn't want to let his mind wander down the path of questioning if something had changed from how they left things earlier that morning.

"I have a lot of work to do. You need to go deal with your own daddy issues," she said bitingly.

"Hey. You don't have to talk to anyone. But if you do, you have to talk to me. Deal?" he asked softly.

Her face softened slightly as he spoke, sending a subtle apology for the wrath that she was currently unable to control. Marshall was grateful to see the momentary shift in her eyes, but she looked down before responding. "Beat it." He walked away with frustration, though recognizing that this wasn't the time or the place for a deeper conversation. "Tell your dad I say hi," she added before he was gone and then buried herself in her work to fight the memories trying to play in her mind.

xxxxx

Marshall got out of his car to greet his father. "Hey Dad," he said as he reached out his hand.

"Hi Son," Seth said as he pulled Marshall to an unexpected hug. "So? Congratulations?"

"Ugh," was Marshall's response as he quickly ran his hand over his face. His father remained silent, awaiting more information. "It's become… complicated."

"I'm sorry, Son," Seth responded, assuming his reaction meant that she had said no.

Marshall thought he heard an ounce of pity in his father's voice and realized his assumption. He quickly added, "I haven't asked." He and his father did not have a strong emotional connection. He considered talking to him about it, but trying to connect with his father in a vulnerable moment never did him any favors. He took his father's bag and gestured towards the car. He placed the bag in the trunk and they lowered themselves into their respective seats.

"I thought you said you were going to ask on Friday?" his father continued.

"Yeah. Something came up," he replied and as he drove away, strongly considered saying more. They sat silently for minute as he maneuvered out of the airport to the highway. It would be nice to have an unbiased insight, but his father probably was not the right source for that. However, he was the only one there, and the only one he really could open up to at this moment. He took a deep breath to continue when his phone rang. Abigail.

"Hold on, Dad," he started and answered his phone. "Hey there," he said with a sigh.

"Hey!" she replied with her characteristic enthusiasm, as if their brief, somber conversation this morning had not occurred. "I managed to get a little free time this morning so I could come meet you and your dad for breakfast. Where are you headed?"

"Uhhhh…." Marshall stalled. It was probably best for her not to join them, given the circumstances, but neither she nor his father were aware of the issue. He couldn't think of how to respond and the silence became awkward.

"Marshall?" Abigail called, wondering if they'd been disconnected.

"I'm still here," he answered. He couldn't decide on an appropriate response quickly enough and ended up just telling her their destination. Shit, he thought to himself as he hung up. "Abigail is joining us for breakfast," he informed his father, plainly, without much joy.

His father picked up where their conversation had left off. "You seem to be lacking the happiness you had last time we spoke. Everything okay?"

He thought about how to answer, how much to reveal. Perhaps he should wait until after he met Abigail. He didn't want to make their breakfast anymore uncomfortable than it already was set to be. "I guess I'm just having cold feet," he finally answered.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Seth asked, unexpectedly.

Marshall turned for a moment, surprised by the offer. "Yeah," he replied. "But, uhhh, not right now."

"Okay," Seth said agreeably and changed the subject to lighter matters for the remainder of their drive.

xxxxx

They had several minutes alone at the restaurant before Abigail joined. A waitress brought them menus and water. Marshall realized he probably needed to fill his dad in on the Mary's dad situation in case something came up during his visit. He figured his dad would enjoy hearing the technical details anyway. "So, uhh, interesting development. Mary's FBI's-most-wanted-list father returned last night."

"What? Wow!" Seth was familiar with the complexities of Mary's family after the Agent O'Connor fiasco. He had quietly done a little research on his own into James Shannon, wondering if O'Connor's claims about Mary had any validity, but concluded they did not.

"Yeah," Marshall continued. "Showed up on her doorstep, she arrested him. He's been at the FBI since."

"Jeez. Good for her. What's his story?" he asked as he picked up his water and took a sip.

"Well, he wasn't very forthcoming last night. Told Mary he was in trouble and needed her help, which she obviously was not inclined to provide. I'm sure today will bring some new insight. We had a long night." Marshall averted his eyes with his last sentence.

"You were there?" Seth asked casually, concealing his curious grin under the water glass and peering at Marshall over its rim. Marshall was a consummate professional but he'd long suspected his son had unresolved feelings for Mary.

"I met her at the FBI. And made sure she didn't stay there. Took her home, had a chat."

"Ahhh," replied Seth with a knowing tone, not surprised by Marshall's lack of hesitation in rushing to Mary's side and extremely interested in hearing more. He wondered if Mary played any part in Marshall's self-professed 'cold feet'.

Before their conversation could continue, the front door to the restaurant pushed open and Abigail walked in. "Marshall," she called, and he quickly stood up to introduce her to his father. She hugged Seth then went in for a kiss from Marshall, but he leaned to the side to make contact with her cheek. "It's so nice to finally meet you!" she exclaimed as she sat down.

"Likewise," said Seth, warmly. "Marshall has said so many great things."

"Thank you," Abigail replied, grinning widely at Seth, and then at Marshall. Marshall was tempted to hide behind his own water glass, but mustered the resolve to give her a genuine smile. He briefly wondered how this moment would be so different if Mary hadn't said that she loved him less than 72 hours ago. Nope, not awkward at all, he thought sarcastically, and decided he needed to relax and be fully present to prevent making the situation uncomfortable for his father or Abigail.

"So, you are a detective," Seth started, knowing cop talk was always an effortless place to start.

"Yes! Family tradition."

"Ours too."

"Yes, I've heard so much!" Abigail was her usual bright and cheery self, and she carried an easy conversation with his father. Marshall was generally quiet, just participating with brief answers and appropriate facial expressions as their chatting continued. Seth noticed his son's uncharacteristic apprehensiveness and that Abigail's apparent glee was incongruent with Marshall's clear discomfort. He wondered if Marshall would come around to telling him the truth about what was going on.

Suddenly, Marshall's phone rang. "Uh, sorry, let me just," he muttered apologetically. He hadn't expected a call from Stan, who was fully aware he had just picked up his father from the airport. "Hey. Seriously? Yeah, I'll be there as soon as I can." He closed his phone and realized he just agreed to leaving his father with his soon to be ex-girlfriend. He was very uncomfortable with this situation but he had to get back to the office for what was about to go down. "Sorry, something's about to blow up. Not literally, but… it's serious."

"Go," Abigail offered cheerily, "we're getting to know each other. It's fine. Go. The less you're around, the more dirt I get on you."

Marshall cringed. Even if he was going to marry her, the thought of her acquiring details about him from his father's perspective made him uneasy. He was glad he hadn't divulged anything to him yet so Seth wouldn't have to feel uncomfortable or worse, lie for him. He said his goodbyes with another apology.

Seth smiled to express that he had no hard feelings about his departure. Work was work. He was enjoying himself, and continued chatting with Abigail as Marshall walked out the door.

xxxxx

Marshall rushed back, but not in time to get to Stan's office before Mary returned from her witness visit and saw O'Connor. At least his unwelcomed presence gave her an outlet for some of her anger. He wanted to laugh at Mary's "If I wanted to be a douche bag special agent, I would have gone to douche bag special agent school" comment. O'Connor was the worst. Here he was playing nice when everyone knew he was just waiting for the opportunity to take Mary down. His presence was yet another agonizing weight hoisted onto Mary's already heavy load, which was only further burdened by the threat of harm to her family. Marshall was floored by the nerve of her father to not only taunt the FBI with another most-wanted, in exchange for witness protection, but to demand that Mary be the one who questioned him. James clearly had no idea how painful such an experience would be for her, and it was evident that he was only thinking about how satisfied he would be with such an arrangement. Again, his selfishness was unmistakable, wanting to spend time with his daughter now, when she really could have used it decades earlier.

Marshall started to go after Mary when she ran from Stan's office, after learning her mother and sister may be in danger. "Mary!" he called, but she didn't turn around until she had pressed the button to call the elevator. She looked panicked but determined as hell, but as soon as he reached her, he heard Stan approaching behind him, calling for both of them to wait for him. Mary turned away to the opening elevator doors. All three of them rode the lift down together and they quickly formulated a game plan for getting to the FBI and securing her family. Marshall couldn't stop watching her as she paced with two steps, back and forth, in the tiny elevator. When the doors opened, she bolted for her car, not even waiting for Stan to join her.

Marshall climbed into his car and took off with his own assignment. He was frustrated that Mary and Stan were headed back to the FBI without him, but he knew protecting Norah and Mark right now was far more important. He just wanted to be with her. Not that there was anything he could really do, and not that she would let him, but he was blown away by the depth and intensity of everything she was managing. When he'd located Mark and Norah, then made arrangements for their care, and ensured they were safely under another protective watch, he made a quick stop back at the FBI to see how Mary was doing.

xxxxx

Mary couldn't believe she had to be the one in interrogate her own father. Her superiors weren't mandating her participation, but she knew they wouldn't quit until she did. And neither would her father. Knowing that her family could be in danger was enough of a motivation to just do it, but having to listen to him intimate a closeness, a partnership, between them made her even more incensed, as well as slightly nauseated. When it was done, she stormed to the bathroom. She refused to cry. The door slammed behind her and she realized she was completely alone. She locked the entrance to the bathroom then retreated to a stall. She couldn't hold it in any longer. Though her sobs were silent, her tears were hot with anger, heartache, loss, every emotion she had felt over the last 30 years. She gave herself five minutes to release some of the emotional pressure, then wiped at her face with the backs of her hands and went to a sink.

She rolled her eyes and shook her head at her naïve thought from early last night, before her father showed up, when she moaned about how torturous the day with Marshall was going to be, simply due to their unresolved conversation Friday night. Little did she know what was waiting on her doorstep. She splashed water over her face and took several deep breaths. When she felt composed enough, she left the bathroom to head back to the WITSEC office to begin the delightful process of admitting her father into the program.

xxxxx

They returned to the FBI after the preliminary WITSEC paperwork had been completed. Mary didn't want to be a part of the ploy to trap Sully, but again she was given no choice. Sitting arms crossed, and disgusted, it was hard for her not to roll her eyes as her father detailed his preferences for the operation. She was grateful for the interruption of Delia's phone call, but not reassured with Jinx's and Brandi's whereabouts still unknown. Scott's refusal to hide further frustrated her, and she wished she could come up with something to convince him. Hanging up the phone, she tried to push away the thoughts about what could happen to him. She turned around to unexpectedly see Marshall walking towards her.

"Hey," he called as he approached, careful to remain a couple steps away from her, to both give her space and prevent himself from getting too close, and therefore beunable to resist the temptation to touch her.

"Marshall, what are you doing here?" Mary asked alarmed. She was intensely worried about all of her family members, but Norah obviously was at the top of that list. "Tell me you've got Norah and Mark stashed in a pocket somewhere."

"I have a detail on them," he reassured. "We're meeting up at Mark's job site as soon as I'm done here."

"Okay," she whispered, calming for just a moment, knowing she could trust Marshall with her daughter's safety.

He paused before continuing, wanting to connect with her but knowing it may be impossible in this difficult moment. "Listen, my dad is in town for the weekend."

"No, I know," she interrupted with an apologetic tone, but shook his head and put his hands up to express that her demand of his time wasn't the issue.

He continued. "And his arrival, totally planned, it's thrown me. Just him showing up."

"What's your point?" she asked, knowing where he was going, but not wanting to talk about it.

"Your dad showed up unannounced, out of thin air, and you're having to be professional at a time when personal issues, and 30 years of deeply personal issues, well, let's just say 'thrown' doesn't even touch it. Mary. Talk to me."

She sighed and shook her head. "I've been talking all day."

Marshall looked at her, a little disappointed by her second rejection of his support that day, but deciding this wasn't the place to push. "Yeah. Okay." He opened his mouth to say he would leave, but Mary started to speak, not quite ready for him to walk away.

"Scott is refusing protection," she said, full of concern. "I just got off the phone with him."

He sighed grimly, knowing the possible consequences. He wished he could just go over to Scott's place himself and force him into security. Florida was a little too far from New Mexico. "Mare, if you've talked to him and he's still refusing, there isn't anything else we can do."

"I know," she barked. She let the anger come back. Anger was better than tears. "Delia hasn't found my goddamned mother and sister yet. I had to admit this asshole into WITSEC, and now I have to sit in on his delusions of grandeur about how to lure his crime buddy into the FBI trap."

Marshall nodded empathetically. "That's a lot. A lot." He was glad she was releasing something to him. "I know I don't need to tell you how strong you are. But I don't know anyone who could go in and interrogate their own father after he'd been gone for 30 years. I'm here when you are ready to rest."

She rolled her eyes in irritation, but then he extended his hand. She looked at it for a moment, the angry part of her wanting to just turn away, but the softer side, the part that really did want genuine human contact, slowly reached out to take it. Marshall squeezed immediately, trying to send her love and support through only his fingers. She looked up at him to accept it and for a moment she let him see the ocean of conflict in her eyes. "Thank you," she mouthed without making a sound, afraid that if she tried to use her voice it would catch and the tears would return.

He gave her a small smile, squeezed tighter for a moment, then let her hand go. "I'll get back to the baby."

She nodded. "Good. Thanks."

She turned and walked back down the hall, only to run into her father, Stan, and the agents, and discover it was time to be further tortured by driving James to retrieve his stolen goods from his house.

xxxxx