Disclaimer: Mary and Marshall belong to David Maples. If they hadn't been misused by others I wouldn't be writing this.
Provoked Too– Chapter 4 – Dine and Dash
Antiquity Restaurant, 7:00 PM
Despite being a week night, the restaurant was comfortably crowded. The dark wood paneling and subdued lighting gave the place just the romantic air Marshall wanted. Once they were seated in one of the high-backed booths, he ordered Abigail's favorite wine before she could ask earning him a big smile. They sipped in silence decompressing from the day.
"How was your day?" he asks cordially. There's a lot he wants to talk about so it's only fair he listen to her first.
"Frustrating," she admits. "The task force has seen a flood of weapons come into the city. They think they are going to one guy but we can't tell where they are delivered. They must be coming through El Paso," she takes a sip. "After all it's a straight shot up the I25 to Albuquerque. The Border Patrol follows the trucks but so far the trucks hit the city and disappear."
"You're a damn good detective. You'll figure it out. You always do." Marshall reaches his hand across the table to take her hand. In case that doesn't work he orders another glass of wine.
"Not always," she confesses frustrated. "The thing is I know who's running this operation but I can't catch him in the act!" This is not the way he wanted their evening to go. She should be relaxed, confident, open.
The waiter takes their orders for the filet. Abigail says it's silly to order anything else since this is Albuquerque's premier steakhouse. Marshall thinks that if Mary wasn't so damn cheap she'd love their ribs.
Salads proceed to entrees and Abigail excuses herself to find the restroom. Marshall considers how to broach the real reason he wanted to go to dinner tonight. Why does Mary say they can't be friends? Why did she tell him to ask Abigail?
Abigail returns to the table bemused. "What's with that twinkle in your eye? I hope you aren't shopping for a new fiancé."
She smiles and shakes her head. "No, you're it for me Honeybunch." Marshall raises a questioning eyebrow. "It's Mary."
What? Although it is a restaurant where a woman could comfortably dine alone he would never expect to see Mary here. Abigail takes a sip of wine and confides with a cheery smile, "She's on a date!"
Wait? This must be the man Delia mentioned. "Dammit." Marshall mutters. "She's too busy with Norah to come to dinner at our house, but she has time to date?"
"Maybe he's a relative?" Abigail says, for once giving Mary the benefit of the doubt.
Marshall shakes his head. "She doesn't have any male relatives." Not live ones. He lifts his wine then sets it down, angry. "I invited her to our next soiree and even told her to bring Norah but she refused because she didn't want Noah to be exposed to germs." He snorts. "Who does she think we are? Typhoid Mary?"
Abigail titters. "No Sugarbritches. That would be her!"
"She also said that we can't be friends outside of work. She wouldn't explain and told me to ask you."
"Ask me what Sugarbritches?"
Marshall sighs. It takes all his will power not go looking for Mary to demand that she explain herself. That and to check out her date. "You know I asked Mary to release me so that I could concentrate on us."
Abigail nods, but looks wary. She already knows this.
"Mary said that if she released me it meant that we can't be friends outside of work."
Abigail purses her lips. "You can be friends but there's only 24 hours in a day. When you're not working we have things to do. You're still friends at work, right?"
Marshall shakes his head. "No. Not really. I'm Chief. She's Inspector." And never the twain shall meet.
"Look, it's not our fault that Mary doesn't want to attend any of our parties. Maybe when we have children she'll feel more comfortable about bringing Norah. I admit, I'm miffed that she refuses our invitations but none of our friends have kids so I can understand why she'd hesitate. After all it's not as if our place is baby proofed."
Abigail catches the waiter's eye and taps her wine glass. Marshall tries to remember how many glasses of wine Abigail has had. Maybe she's not as okay discussing Mary as he thought. Marshall feels the need for something stronger but since he drove, it had better wait till he gets home.
"Excuse me, Sweetheart." He smiles and winks. "Even though my bladder has five times the capacity of yours. . . there comes a time" he trails off and skootches out of the booth. He walks to the restroom looking straight ahead, but aware of everyone and everything in his peripheral vision. There! Mary's sitting, relaxed, beer in hand, a pile of rib remains on her plate. He can't see who she's with but he will eyeball the guy on his way back.
He doesn't really need the facilities so he washes his hands and strolls slowly past Mary's booth. She's laughing so hard her eyes are closed and she doesn't see him! He finds a spot out of her line of sight where he can pretend to check his phone. He closes his eyes and concentrates on the glimpse he got of her date. He's tall, with impressive deltoids and pecs and a buzz cut. Buzz cut? Maybe military? This has to be the guy Delia saw. How does this guy know Davey? He groans. What did Mary do now?
There was that JAG lawyer who is indirectly responsible for his and Abigail's current abode. What's he doing in town? There aren't any new military witnesses. What is he doing with Mary? And why is Mary laughing? He's never heard her laugh like that. How much has she had to drink?
Marshall can pick out Mary's voice even in this crowd. "Have you ever worn a dress?" he hears her ask. She giggles. "My partner did. He's got great legs but he's too bony to pass as a woman." He doesn't hear her date's comment, but he does hear her belly laugh. "No, nothing like that. It was a sort of costume party with karaoke." He must have asked what she wore because the next thing he hears is "I wore my Glocks. That's all a girl needs." He hasn't even told Abigail that story. But it's the image of Mary wearing only her Glocks that sticks. He attempts to banish it with righteous anger. Why was Provo with Davey? Did Mary break protocol again? Inspector Shannon and I are going to have a tête-à-tête in his office first thing tomorrow!
On the way back to his table Marshall decides that although the professional dressing down needs to wait he and Abigail can confront Mary about ignoring their invitations. Mary doesn't have time for them? Time to call her on that.
Abigail's toying with the dessert menu when he asks, "Do you want something for dessert hon?" She looks up, uncertain. "I think you're sweet enough," he whispers, "we can have dessert when we get home."
Abigail titters. "Sounds good to me Honeybunch." She knows that smile.
Marshall gets the check, signs the bill and shepherds Abigail towards Mary's table. "This isn't the way out," she observes.
"I know darling." He grits his teeth and lies like a rug. "I thought we should say hello to Mary."
He can tell by the gleam in Abby's eye that she is ready to wrangle. She's as incensed as he is by Mary's continued refusal to socialize with them.
"Mary, fancy seeing you here." You go tiger! Mary doesn't belong here. Mary's eyes are mere slits, but then her smile becomes friendly, deadly.
"Marshall," Lucas extends his hand. "Sit down. After you introduce me."
"Abigail, this is Lucas Provo, JAG lawyer."
Lucas digs in his shirt pocket. "Not anymore." He hands Marshall his business card. "I've set up shop in Albuquerque."
"This is Abigail Chaffee, my fiancée."
"Detective Abigail Chaffee, ABQPD," she amends offering her own hand to Lucas. Then Abigail plants herself on the bench next to Mary. Marshall touches her shoulder trying to warn her. Mary doesn't like anyone intruding in her space, but Abigail either doesn't notice or doesn't care. Much to Marshall's surprise there's no explosion of expletives from Mary. Maybe she's drunk? Marshall stands ready to defend his fiancée.
"How's Oscar?" Mary asks. Marshall relaxes. A safe topic. Abigail regales her with tales of the pup's antics and Marshall becomes aware that Lucas is talking to him.
"Oscar?" Lucas wonders if there's another man in Mary's life.
Marshall is pleased that Lucas flinched at the name. "Our dog. Mary dog-sat him for a while."
Marshall notes that Lucas is relieved by that bit of information. "Can I order something for you and. . . . "
"Abigail, my fiancée," Marshall reiterates wanting to make sure Provo gets the message.
Lucas rolls his head back and hmmms. "That explains it."
"Explains what?" Marshall asks crossly. It's bad enough that Mary is on a date, she's on a date with one of the few decent guys she's met. Someone Marshall should approve of.
"Explains why she gave me a shot." Lucas confides blithely.
Marshall pretends he doesn't understand. After a sip of beer Lucas says "I came here because I liked the town, liked the weather, the mountains, the desert. I also liked Mary and hoped to see her. The gods smiled, and I did. And here we are." Lucas looks inordinately pleased. Marshall is equally displeased.
Mary and Abigail continue to chat. Marshall relents and sits down next to Lucas and whispers. "I don't understand. What has my engagement to do with you dating Mary?"
Lucas gives him a knowing look. "You're off the market, taken, unavailable, engaged for God's sake."
Marshall wonders aloud. "So she's dating you because . . . ."
"She can't date you." Lucas finishes the sentence confidently.
"But we're friends," he whispers hoarsely. "We were partners. We never dated."
Lucas tilts his head back. "Ah yes. She told me you're her boss now. That's awkward."
"Not for Mary," Marshall grumbles.
"She drew a line in the sand?" Lucas concludes.
"Something like that. I only see her at work," Marshall admits.
"You both have other things to occupy your free time. Mary has Norah and me." His eyes twinkle as he shrugs. "You have Abigail and Oscar."
It seems to Marshall that Lucas got the better deal. Marshall is desperate to change the subject before Abigail or Mary hear what he and Lucas are discussing. "You're in great shape. Where do you work out?"
"Mary introduced me to her gym. We get there a couple of times a week."
"Aha," Marshall smiles - one mystery solved. "You're the reason she did so well on her fitness test!"
Lucas shakes his head. "No, no. That was all Mary. I did introduce her to TACFIT, but she took to it like a duck to water. It doesn't hurt that she's a competitive bitch." He says the last words louder making sure Mary hears.
Marshall grimaces when a foot connects with his shin then Mary protests blandly, "Just who are you calling a bitch?"
Lucas rolls his eyes innocently. Marshall reaches down to rub his shin. Mary's eyes follow his hand. "Did I kick you Chief. I'm sorry." Her apology is sincere but she tells Abigail. "That shoots my performance evaluation all to hell."
Marshall catches Abigail's eye. Time to go. "It was nice seeing you Lucas. We have to go feed Oscar before he destroys another pair of my boots."
"It's the salt," Lucas says.
"Excuse me?" Marshall inquires.
Lucas obliges. "Your body excretes salt. It soaks into the leather and becomes quite the doggie taste treat."
"Now how did you miss that factoid, Mr. Trivia?" Mary teases. She's seldom seen Marshall beaten at his own game.
Abigail takes Marshall's outstretched hand and stands. "Good night."
"I knew that," he murmurs to Abigail as they walk out the door.
Once they are in the car Abigail releases a breath and buckles up. "Whew Sugarbritches. I am so glad Mary has found someone. I take it you know him?"
"We, uh, Mary and I worked with Mr. Provo. I didn't know he had moved to Albuquerque. Mary never mentioned him."
"They act as if they've been together for some time. Why wouldn't she talk about him? He seems nice."
Marshall coughs. "Mary only talks to me about work." Marshall hands the business card to Abigail. "That's what he's doing now."
Abigail is quiet for a while. "So he knows what you and Mary do?" Marshall doesn't say a word. "That must make things a lot easier for Mary. I know how you struggle. I wish you could share your problems with me."
"Abigail," Marshall warns. "Don't start."
"I know. I know." She pats his knee.
A/N: Thanks to everyone who is following or has favorited this story.