Continuing to parallel "Medal of Mary". I just have to say that the two scenes, first where Marshall's dad tells him who you are there for at 4 in the morning is the one, and then Mary telling Marshall about your partner following you to the doorstep, even at 4am (I will address the latter in the next chapter), really had me believing that they would be getting Mary and Marshall together by the end. I mean, they were LITERALLY SETTING THE STAGE for that with these pieces of dialogue. So, I'm still mad about it. But I use those words for good!
Again, 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. Seth is not retired to better fit my story. Also (because where is Marshall's mother?) it makes more sense for him to visit alone if he's passing through for work. Other episode references abound. Self-edited, sorry for any errors. There's more to come!
Thanks for the reviews! They definitely do help motivate me!
xxxxx
Marshall was quiet during dinner. He gave what limited details he could about the day and feigned interest in Abigail's stories. 'Had she always been this talkative?' he wondered. Despite this revelation, he was glad, in this moment, for that personality trait, because it allowed him some space for introspection. So compatible they were, yet something was always off. Just a little, but enough. Would he have ever admitted it if Mary hadn't come around?
The last few days had been emotionally and physically draining. He was exhausted, distracted, and frustrated with the situation he had created for himself. Not to mention feeling like quite the asshole for his conspiratorial thoughts of trying to figure out how to avoid Abigail until his father left. Part of him wanted to just blurt it out over dinner, but he knew both his father and Abigail would feel really awful about such a thing happening in the presence of the other. He had to find a way to minimize interaction with her until he could find an appropriate moment to talk. Abigail was too busy trying to impress Marshall's father to pay much attention to his discomfort, but Marshall could feel his father's eyes on him, judging, questioning his behavior. He convinced himself he could pass for just being tired and overworked.
When they finished eating and Seth excused himself to use the bathroom, Marshall stepped into his plan. "Would you mind going to bed early so I can hang with my dad by myself for a little while?" he asked as he carried plates to the sink. "I feel bad for missing the whole day and tomorrow may not go much better. I plan to take the first half of the day off, but, no guarantees. And I'll likely have to work very late tomorrow night."
"Of course. I think that's a nice idea. We had a lovely time today," she beamed.
"That's great," he said simply, then added, "Thanks for entertaining him while things took an unexpected turn."
"Anytime, love. Your dad is a really funny guy," she continued joyfully, trying to make conversation. Marshall raised his eyebrows to his hairline. He knew for a fact his father was NOT a funny guy. Abigail certainly could find a way to have a gleeful conversation with absolutely anyone. "I feel bad about you working though. It isn't what we'd planned."
"Yeah," Marshall said, seemingly without any emotion. He felt bad too, and was stricken by how she had no idea how much her statement was true, but for a different reason. Abigail inhaled to speak again, to push the issue, when Seth returned to the kitchen. Marshall finished clearing the table while she told his father how much she enjoyed the time they'd spent together that day. He then busied himself with the dishes so when she announced that she was headed to bed, he could turn for only a quick peck. It also occurred to him that he could "accidentally" fall asleep on the couch to avoid sleeping next to her tonight. 'Scum, Marshall. You're scum,' he scolded himself.
Marshall and his father found some common ground and managed to have a pleasant conversation for a while. He could tell Seth had something he wanted to say but was holding back and was grateful for his dad's general inability to have emotional discussions. They talked for over an hour, about family, work, the past, the future. There was discussion of Mary, because Seth asked about her, but Marshall remained calm as he spoke, trying to steer his focus to Norah.
Seth noticed his reticence, and knew it wasn't the right place to probe much further. "How does Mary like Abigail?" he queried anyway, carefully choosing the word 'like' instead of 'feel', to make it less of a personal question.
Marshall laughed for a moment, then deflected with mild sarcasm, "How does Mary like anyone?"
Seth gave an amused smile but recognized the non-answer. "Well, that sounds about right." He paused before calculatingly adding, "They couldn't be more different, huh?" with a chuckle, then changed the subject before Marshall could reply.
Eventually his dad announced he was heading to bed. Marshall decided to break out his computer and do a little work to burn time until he could reasonably fall asleep by mistake. Pondering Seth's comment about the differences between Abigail and Mary, he was unable to control his mind from morphing it into a pros/cons list. He wondered if his father had surreptitiously developed an opinion on the matter. Pros and cons be damned, there was no way he could turn back after how far he and Mary had come in the last few days. The remaining considerations he gave to Abigail, he realized were more about obligation than a true desire to walk that path.
xxxxx
Mary wanted to call Marshall as soon as she learned the medication she'd found in her father's apartment was a chemotherapy drug. Was she supposed to presume that the only reason he surfaced now was to say goodbye? This fact should enrage her, but it felt inappropriate to tell a dying man to fuck off. But you can't just waltz back into someone's life more than 30 years later and expect them to be happy about it, regardless of the circumstances. She got out of bed and dug out her box of photos and letters from her father. Memories surged as she flipped through to find the same family picture that James had on display in his apartment. She was instantly compelled to look at her daughter, her life, wondering how on earth a parent could walk away, abandoning their children, and build a new life, like the previous one had never happened.
She considered a hypothetical threat on Norah's life, how she would respond. Between her own personal integrity and her work, she knew she would never react criminally. If someone threatened to kill Norah, she'd have the entire Marshal Service behind her. She could call Stan and 10 minutes later they would be whisked off to a safe house. Maybe she just needed to accept that he was a simple man who did what he thought was best for his family, given the predicament he was in. He certainly did not have access to her law enforcement connections. However, she kept circling back to faulting him for being a criminal in the first place. Life would have been completely different if he'd made a legitimate living; a reflective path she never let herself walk down to maintain her sanity.
She needed to push these thoughts out of her mind and get through her day. She'd barely seen her daughter in the last three days and wanted to have some quality one on one time while she had the opportunity that morning. Especially with Mark in the kitchen, cleaning and making breakfast. She lifted Norah from her crib and brought her into her bed to snuggle and play.
xxxxx
Marshall was grateful that Abigail left for work early. In the middle of the night, she realized he was not in their bed, but decided to just let him sleep given how long the last few days of work had been. She woke him to say goodbye, give him a kiss, and confirm their lunch plans. Marshall figured he may as well just go through the motions until his father leaves the following morning. After a pleasant breakfast, and a few hours spent mixing conversation with their respective work, Marshall and Seth packed up to head out to meet Abigail.
He could feel his father's judgmental eyes on him throughout the meal. When she received a call from work and needed to leave, Marshall feigned disappointment, but he heard the tone of his own voice, and knew he failed to sound genuine. Abigail seemed not to notice as she joyfully said goodbye and departed. They were finished eating but had just started their coffee.
"You know what your mother would say if she were here? Abigail's the girl we always hoped you'd bring home."
"Thanks Dad," Marshall replied awkwardly. He didn't want to say any more on the topic, so he casually changed the subject. "You know, I…I can't help noticing as you are getting closer to that retirement date, that the old, gruff, you is MIA…"
"I'm not finished," Seth added sternly.
"There he is…" Marshall said, his discomfort visible.
Seth took a deep breath then began. "The thing is, marriage, there's no room for guesswork. You've got to be sure. And who you're there for at four in the morning, that's the one. So you've gotta ask yourself, is Abigail… is she the girl YOU always hoped you'd bring home?"
The fact that his 'four in the morning' remark indicated Mary was not lost on Marshall. He was speechless by his father's sudden and unexpected insight into his feelings, and felt seen by him for possibly the first time in his life. Marshall stared at Seth for a few moments, while Seth sipped his coffee, casually impaling Marshall with his gaze. Surprising himself, Marshall actually contemplated whether or not he should talk to him about it. He took a deep breath and succumbed to the glare.
"Actually…" he hesitated, and delayed his response by sipping his own coffee. He began again slowly. "That's… something I've been grappling with the last few days."
"Ahhhh," commented his father. The connection that this dilemma was likely the source of this somber mood had already been made, and Seth maintained a neutral expression, hoping Marshall would say more. When he didn't, Seth continued. "I know I'm not the most approachable, warm person, Marshall. But I can tell you've been carrying something heavy the last couple days."
It suddenly occurred to Marshall that his father's assertion about both Mary and Abigail was a bit presumptuous. He was absolutely correct, but how could his father assume Mary was even an option, given everything that had, and hadn't, transpired between them in the past? He parents were aware of his feelings for Mary, but they also knew he had decided to pursue another path, with good reason. "Well, Dad, interest has to be mutual for someone to be the one. I couldn't spend the rest of my life waiting on her. I had to move on."
"And yet you were supposed to propose to Abigail and you have not," Seth countered.
"It's complicated," he grumbled. He didn't think it was appropriate to reveal the details of the intimate conversations he recently had with Mary.
"Has Mary finally said something?"
Marshall took a deep breath and was slow to respond, again stunned his father had made such a leap. "Yeah, uh… that's part of what's happened, that's made me… change my mind." He let silence hang between them for a few seconds before continuing. "Only four days ago. A few hours before I planned to propose to Abigail."
Seth sipped his coffee, mildly intrigued by the turmoil, and recognizing that was not a typical reaction for himself. He considered Marshall's comment from a few minutes before about getting soft as he was getting older, and thought he may be right. "Complicated indeed." He paused. "What do you want, Marshall?" he asked, respecting Marshall's discretion with details, but wanting to be someone that Marshall could feel comfortable, for once, confiding in.
"I want to build a life with someone," he said longingly.
"Do you see that with Mary?"
"Yes, of course."
"What about Abigail?"
"Also, yes. But Abigail… somehow, I didn't realize until the other day…. was conditional on Mary never loving me back. And now that she has, I can't go back. I've had some time, my mind is actually made up. I don't know that it will work out with Mary, but she seems to finally be in the right place, and I have to take the chance. I just haven't been able to talk to Abigail, to… well… end things."
"Everything with James Shannon, and my visit, has made that impossible," Seth replied.
"That's not what I meant… I…" Marshall began to apologize.
"I know," he interrupted. "Look, I have a lot of work to do anyway and could use a head start. Why don't I head out tonight to do just that, and then give you the space to do what you need to do."
"I'm sorry that this all is happening at the same time you are here."
"It's okay son. I get it. Cat's in the cradle. I missed a lot of your childhood for work. I can't be upset by an urgent matter."
"Well, please come again soon. Both of you," Marshall said earnestly, wishing his mother was also on this trip.
Seth smiled warmly and took another sip from his almost empty mug. "We'll try. I've got more work I can do from your place. Let's finish up here, and I can take a cab to the airport later this afternoon."
"Thanks, Dad."
xxxxx
After lunch, Marshall touched base with Stan about the day, then headed over to Mary's. He let himself in to find a quiet house with Mark working on dishes.
"Marshall!" Mark quietly exclaimed, as Norah was sleeping. He quickly put down the plate, dried his hands, then rushed over to embrace him. Marshall was dumbfounded to find himself being squeezed in Mark's arms. He loosely put an arm around his and patted it awkwardly, "Hi… Mark…"
Mary walked in at this moment and rolled her eyes. Marshall gave her a confused 'what the fuck is this?' look, while Mary shook her head and replied, "He knows." She was slightly concerned he would be mad because she figured he hadn't had a chance to talk to Abigail with his father around. Marshall would not appreciate a disclosure of his impropriety.
The gears clicked into place for Marshall as Mark gave him another squeeze. While he felt a little embarrassed about their situation, he was actually quite pleased Mary had told Mark, and took it as evidence of her seriousness about wanting to build a life with him.
Mark released him, keeping a hand on his shoulder, with a smile stretched across his face. "This is awesome, because you already know how much of a pain in the ass she is. I'm thrilled for you," he said joyously. His words by themselves could have been mistaken for sarcasm, but his tone reflected his genuine happiness that Mary had finally woken up and chosen the right guy. And that Marshall felt the same way.
"Fuck off, Mark," Mary snarled as she placed her mug in the sink, then walked around the counter to lean against it, facing Marshall.
"Okay, that sounded bad. I know. I'm just tryin' to lighten the mood. But really. This is great," Mark said as he returned to the dishes.
Mary rolled her eyes again. "Anyway," she muttered, unsure how to manage this sudden publicness of their relationship. Not that Mark was really the public. The attention made her feel self-conscious. Not because of Marshall. Openness… happiness… were just unfamiliar, and therefore uncomfortable. She looked at Marshall apprehensively, then held his gaze to wordlessly tell him she was glad he was there. "Anything new?" she asked after a few moments.
"No. You?"
"There's something I need to show you," she replied as she swiftly walked out of the room to retrieve her phone.
Marshall still wasn't sure how to approach Mary. He wanted to be himself. He needed to be himself. Would she let him? That was another question about their relationship. Would she deny him if he tried to touch her in front of Mark? Or anyone?
She returned after a moment and placed her phone on the countertop. Marshall walked over to see. First, she showed him the picture of the medication bottle. He noticed her father's name on the bottle, but didn't recognize the medication. She switched to her web browser to reveal the multiple myeloma information.
He placed his hand on top of hers. When she didn't protest, he leaned over and softly placed a kiss to the side of her forehead.
"I don't know if it's real," she spoke solemnly. "It could be a sham like everything else about him."
"Would he fake an illness?"
"To get out of prison time? To get my sympathy?" she asked, though the questions were rhetorical as they both knew the answer was yes. Marshall grimaced and shrugged to acknowledge she was likely correct.
Mark put down the dishrag and joined the conversation. "Is there anything I should do?"
Marshall was quick to reply. "Pack some stuff for Norah in case something happens and we need to leave. Have your stuff ready too."
"Oh shit. Yeah," Mary muttered and immediately took off to gather her bags.
"Go where?" Mark asked, not getting it.
"Somewhere safer than here," Marshall replied ominously.
Thirty minutes later, the necessities were packed and Mary was reviewing with Mark the remaining things he'd still need to gather. Mark then excused himself to get some work done before Norah woke up.
"You okay?" Marshall asked Mary.
"Yeah," she said, a little unconvincingly.
"Let's sit for a minute before you go," he gestured to the couch.
"Sure."
They sat close but not touching. Mary immediately fell back into the cushions, emotionally spent, but knowing there was at least another marathon to go. He was tempted to take her hand but decided to wait, figuring she needed a little time to physically transition from alert, protective marshal to emotionally available partner. That sat silently for a few moments before Marshall shifted slightly to face her, then spoke. "I haven't had a chance to talk to Abigail yet."
Mary turned her head to look at him. "Yeah. I figured with your dad around it might be difficult to do."
"I had a plan to last night. But the opportunity really wasn't there. I just want to keep you in the loop about where things are at."
"You change your mind?"
"Mary…" he began, but couldn't summon the words to gently express his frustration that she would think that.
She sat up quickly, then leaned forward to rest her forearms on her knees. "Well, I'm not one to count my chickens before they hatch. Hell, I'm not one to count my chickens after they hatch because they're probably about to be eaten by a predator."
Marshall chuckled. He understood where she was coming from and decided to cut her some slack. He leaned forward to mirror her position. "My dad is catching a plane this evening. Figured he'd get a head start on his work since I'm tied up with my own…"
"I'm sorry," she interrupted.
He turned his head to make eye contact, then shook it to refuse her apology. "No," he gently said, then continued. "And… because he wanted to give me space to talk to Abigail." Mary looked at him questioningly. "We talked over lunch."
"What?" she said with disbelief.
"Yeah, I was surprised too."
"What did he say?"
"Well…." Marshall paused nervously, knowing her feelings about the concept of 'the one'. "He knew I hadn't proposed as planned. Could see I was trying to be present, but clearly… distracted. He said you were the one."
Her eyes narrowed. Mary didn't believe in "the one". In fact, she hated the notion, for several reasons. Many people never find the one, are they just presumed to have gone through their entire life empty and lonely? Some people find the one, but tragedy takes them away. Are they now fated to go through the rest of their lives, without the one, sad and alone? Other people think that they've found the one, but their relationship is utter garbage. Other people still insist a certain person is the one, but that person does not agree. And people who say there can be more than one "the one" just seemed to be grasping at straws trying to conjure some way to believe in the concept. The whole thing was bullshit.
She shifted uncomfortably and with a scowl and Marshall knew this would take some explanation. "He expressed skepticism about the stability of my relationship with Abigail and said 'who you are there for at 4am is the one'. I had told him the details of your father's arrival up until he was taken into the program. He's always taken an interest in him because of you. Major criminal produces ass-kicking US Marshal offspring. Not the usual outcome. So, he knew I came to you that night. And he knows that I would always be there for you, not matter what the time. There's no question that he was referring to you."
He studied her face and was a little dismayed to see it hadn't relaxed any. Holding himself back from touching her still, he pushed forward, praying she could look beyond the words "the one" and see the larger picture.
"Look, I know how you feel about 'the one'. And I don't disagree with you. If you hadn't told me you loved me a few days ago, I would be blissfully engaged to Abigail right now. But not because I didn't care for you. I think that maybe my dad was just missing the end of the sentence. 'Who you are there for at 4am is the one your heart chooses.' Given all the other known circumstances in your life, your heart is drawn in one direction more than another. If I needed something at 4am, you would come, no matter what you were doing."
"Of course," she said.
"Even when you were with Raph."
She nodded and knew there were plenty of times she chose Marshall over Raph. She'd always blame work, but often something inside her was just comfortable, and happy to be with him.
Marshall looked down at his hands and continued. "When we were in that courthouse, and the shots shattered those windows, and I covered you instead of Abigail. I didn't think. Not even for a second. My body reacted."
Nodding again, she started to see his point, while also remembering that moment very clearly. When he tried to brush it off as mere partnership, she knew then that couldn't possibly be true. Still haunted by her subsequent thoughts, she wondered, if they hadn't been interrupted by Abigail, would she have had the courage to call him on it and dive into their deeper feelings? She leaned into him slightly, just enough that their shoulders and arms made contact. The physical touch saying more than she could verbalize.
He turned his head back to look at her. "I should've ended things with her then. But the ship had sailed with you. If there ever was a ship. And I wanted to spend my life with someone. Make someone the one, with enough boxes checked. Anyway, I think the one is more about being right for each other… and that takes time and experience. We certainly weren't right for each other when we first met."
A wide smile grew across her face, and she almost laughed at the absurdity of the prospect.
Taking her hand, he knew his point was fully understood. "Or for a number of years. But over time, we shifted and grew. I loved you. I wanted us to be right for each other. But I couldn't make you be. You had to evolve. And find me. And slowly you did. You let your heart choose me. And when you told me, you finally made yourself available for my heart to come back to you."
"Well, you certainly have a way of spinning a cliché into something that sounds a little less terrible," she said with a subtle grin. He returned the smile and she squeezed his hand. "So what did you say… when he said that?"
"I was a little annoyed at first. I'd given him no indication that something was going on with you that could even make you and I a possibility. I mean, that's quite the presumption for someone to make, when they were supposed to be visiting to celebrate an engagement to someone else. But he could tell, as much as I tried to hide it, something big was weighing on me. And I'd obviously been prioritizing you with my time. He asked if you'd finally said something. And I said that you had."
"If I'd 'finally' said something? He'd been waiting on that for a while?" she asked, confused by his choice of words.
"Mary…" he began, but then stopped to slowly sigh before continuing. "My parents knew… about my… old feelings… for you."
"Ohhhhh," she said, slightly surprised and feeling the familiar urge to recoil. Marshall let his knee fall against hers as he dropped her hand. Quickly maneuvering his hand around her elbow, he reached forward and grasped her hand more firmly, anchoring her in her difficult emotions. "So, they must think I suck for being an asshole." She looked forward, steeling herself.
"Well, you did suck for being an asshole," he grinned, "But they still think the world of you."
"Why?" she looked at him dumbfounded, like they were idiots to think so highly of her.
"Because I still told them the good things. And my dad thinks you're a damn good marshal no matter what went wrong between us."
"I'm sorry. Again." She let go of her breath with a heavy exhale.
"I know. And feel free to keep saying so, because it helps my heart heal a little more every time," he said softly, with the corner of his lips turned up in a lopsided grin.
She mockingly rolled her eyes and smiled, but she knew he was right. Taking a deep breath, she squeezed his hand tight, then brought her other hand over, to fully embrace his hand for a few moments. Eventually taking her top hand away, she looked down.
"So, um, that day at the courthouse… after… when we were talking. Just before I went into labor." She hesitated. Not because she didn't want to tell him. It was still just hard to say big things. Would it ever get easier? "I was starting to say… something… when Abigail interrupted."
It was his turn for narrowed eyes. "What?" he asked with surprise and confusion as he felt his heart rate accelerate. When she didn't immediately reply, he squeezed her hand to compel her to look up at him, and she complied with a sigh.
"I don't really know exactly what I was going to say, I was still trying to find words in my head. I know I got out a thank you. But…" she shook her head. "That wasn't it. I was trying to tell you… how… important … you are to me. I don't know that I could've gotten 'I love you' out. I did though, but I was still confused… about the word, the feeling. And I guess some things needed to happen first… Norah… to make me understand my feelings more, to… evolve." She paused for a moment to refocus on what she was trying to say, then started again, with determination. "But I really had a strong urge to say something that day. Like… I knew how big of a deal it was that you protected me over Abigail. Like, I knew things were about to change big time, with having a baby, but I didn't want you to drift away from my life. Like… I knew I'd fucked up and wanted a do-over. Ughhh, I don't know, I'm rambling."
"No, it's beautiful," he said as he quickly turned his body towards hers, dropped her hand, reached up to cup her face in his palms, and captured her lips with his. He knew she'd reached the end of her emotional outpouring, and the only response adequate enough for what she gave him, did not involve words. For the first moments, the kiss was soft and tender, and affirmation rather than an exploration. She shifted a bended knee onto the couch to be more comfortably turned towards him. As he held her face, she placed her hands on his forearms, inside the bend of his elbows, applying a slight pressure to his arms that pulled him towards her just a little bit more.
Marshall briefly felt the twinge of guilt that, yet again, here he was, kissing Mary without having spoken to Abigail. Turmoil over her confession percolated as well. Joy for the insight into the depth of her feelings, but also pain over the missed opportunity several months ago. He pushed it away, not wanting to waste a second focusing on anything other than her lips. He couldn't change the past, so he opened his mouth against hers to drown himself in the present. Mary moaned reflexively as he softly caressed her tongue with his. He explored her mouth without deepening the kiss, knowing their time was about to run out, but wanting to squeeze a thousand kisses into the moment.
Interrupted by the vibration of his phone, Marshall groaned as he separated his mouth from hers, but still held one hand to her face. Eyes locked on hers, he gruffly took the call from Stan, who was letting him know the second marshal was due to arrive at Mary's soon. He ended the call, then quickly returned to her lips. The kiss only continued for a few more seconds, as suddenly Norah cried out from the other room, announcing she'd awoken from her nap. Mary laughed against his mouth, and he captured her lips for one final moment. When he pulled away, still holding her face, he whispered, "Thank you."
She smiled as she held his gaze then extracted herself from his hands to retrieve Norah.
Just as she left the room, a knock at the door indicated that the other marshal had arrived. Marshall answered the door to let her in and got straight to work. Mary joined them with Norah snuggled into her arms, letting Marshall run the conference.
Shortly thereafter, Mary was ready to depart. She gave Norah one last hug and kiss before passing her to Mark, then motioned for him to give them a moment alone. Mark nodded and figured he should distract the other marshal. Engaging in random conversation was one of his superpowers. "Let me give you the grand tour," he said to her.
Marshall walked Mary to the door. He looked behind him to make sure they were alone. When he turned back to her, he slid his hand into her hair and his thumb against her cheek, and pulled her to a brief kiss. "Be safe." He knew it was trite, and not something they normally said to each other, but in this particular moment, it felt wrong not to say it.
She leaned into his hand and gave him a small smile. "I'll try." She leaned forward to quickly kiss him in return then opened the door and left.
Marshall stayed with Norah and Mark while Mary went to meet Stan for final preparations for the rendezvous with Sully.
xxxxx