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 23 – Mary and Marshall
Mary gave Michael directions to Marshall's. She thanked him for the ride and braced herself for the four story climb cursing the fact that all Bug's paraphernalia will have to come down the same way. When she gets to the third floor a delicious smell reminds her that she missed lunch. Following the scent she ends up at Marshall's door.
While she catches her breath she texts Marshall hoping Norah is asleep. The door opens and Marshall stands dish towel in hand, another tucked into his waistband and a wet spot on his shoulder. She's never seen him look so adorable. Well, make that adorkable. He put his finger to his lips and gently closes the door pointing to the play yard in his living room.
"You got her to sleep?" Mary whispers as she tiptoes to see Norah. She had no idea Bug would sleep in a new place. Moving away she confronts Marshall. "What did you do? Lull her unconscious with teddy bear trivia?"
"That's between Norah and I," he replies archly. He takes her hand and leads her to the bedroom closing the door part way. "We can talk here without disturbing her." He gestures toward the bed, the only place to sit in the small room.
"What's that smell?" She inhales appreciatively as she sits.
Marshall puts down the towel and joins her, shrugging. "I figured you'd be hungry and I gotta eat so I made dinner."
Mary regards him out of the corner of her eye. "Really Julia? Why haven't I ever had your cooking?"
"My cooking style is more Prudhomme, and you never asked," he dismisses her query. "What happened at the meeting?"
"Not much, except the DEA has been added to the mix. Guns weren't the only thing the Boss was running. They found drugs in the pipeline. But the good news is the Marshal Service hasn't found any other marshals under Caldwell's thumb."
Marshall leans back. "Meaning we're safe."
"Yeah. As safe as we ever are. As far as the FBI, ATF and Marshals can tell none of Caldwell's customers are targeting marshals. The White Knights have a bounty on ATF agents, but that's being handled."
"So he didn't foul his own nest?" Was the Marshall Service really clear of Caldwell's blight?
She nods emphatically. "Looks that way. They checked out his contacts here and in Phoenix. The FBI arrested the agent he turned as well as the AUSA he blackmailed." She smirks. "Those two rolled over on Caldwell faster than a knife fight in a phone booth. And, they were arrested when they were making a deal with a new supplier. All three should be partaking of Uncle Sam's hospitality for years to come." Mary lets her shoulders slump. She should be able to relax now, but sitting so close to Marshall is making her nervous.
Marshall is always tuned to radio Mary. Seeking to ally her discomfort he offers, "You want a beer before dinner?"
"Sure." Anything to postpone the inevitable, the talk.
Mary's rehearsing what she wants to say when Marshall holds out a beer. She suppresses a startle and takes the bottle. Who knew cowboy boots could be so quiet? "Dinner is ready." He checks the time. "Norah's been asleep for half an hour. Think we could venture into the kitchen without waking her?"
Mary takes a long draught and rolls her head back. "Sure. Wish I had the baby monitor. Once she's down for the night she's usually good for 3-4 hours. But she's never slept here and I didn't kiss her good night."
"Well," he smiles smugly, "She got lots of kisses and snuggles from Uncle Marshall. C'mon Mare. I know you're hungry. If she wakes up, she wakes up."
"Yeah, okay." She stands and heads for the tiny kitchen. "I've got to see what smells so damn good." Marshall holds a chair out for her and she glares at him but sits.
Soon he's at her elbow. "Buenos dias, senorita. Welcome to Casa Marshall home of carnitas especial."
Mary narrows her eyes and gives him her are-you-trying-to-be-funny look which is less hostile than her are-you-nuts look. Marshall takes that as a good sign. Towel over his arm he presents her with a plate of carnitas, warm tortillas and salsa and returns to the fridge for his beer. Mary waits till Marshall is seated with his own plate then begins scooping meat onto a tortilla.
"Mmm," She murmurs around a mouthful. Chewing she swallows. "Guacamole would go good with this." Before she finishes chewing, Marshall is heading back to the refrigerator.
"Your wish is my command." He sets a bowl of guacamole down with a flourish. All too soon the food is devoured. Mary pushes her chair back and belches into her napkin, trying to figure out how to start the conversation that could change her life.
Out of the blue Marshall asks, "Did you mean what you said?"
"What? When?" Mary had been thinking about how domestic this was, how comfortable. She wonders if Lucas has a kitchen, or knows what to do in one.
"In the hospital," he elaborates.
"Yes I meant it! It was a bad time for you to take a nap," she squints at him and takes another swig of beer.
"I heard what you said earlier. When you and Norah first came into the room. You said. . . ." He inhales sharply, afraid to repeat her words only to have her deny them. "Have you thought about what you said, about us?" Mary freezes with the bottle halfway to her mouth. He heard that? Isn't this the opening she is waiting for?
Seeing her confusion Marshall explains. "It took too much effort to open my eyes. I thought I was dreaming. Then I smelled that sweet baby," he says with a silly smile. "Babies have a unique scent."
"Yeah, encrusted food, spit up and dirty diapers," Mary grouses.
"No - the purity of innocence. It had to be Norah. She's the only baby who's mama might bring her to see me. Then I got caught up remembering what happened in the warehouse. The beeping monitors told me I was in a hospital, but I didn't know why. The wound in my arm wasn't that bad. Then I heard your voice, except you sounded scratchy and hoarse." He thought she had been crying but he wasn't going to tell her that. "I heard you Mare. Right before the nurse came in to take me for the scans. I heard you say you loved me. Did you mean it?"
Mary hugs herself trying to figure out what to say and how to say it. Her chest feels heavy and she thinks she's about to cry, again. Is she torn because she doesn't want to let him down, again? Or is she afraid to face the truth? Why would he want her?
"C'mon Mare. It's just me. You can tell me anything." Just put me out of my misery. It won't be the first time you rejected me.
"That's just it," she hiccups raising her head to look at him. "It's you and I don't want to hurt you. You're my best friend. I don't want that to change, but dammit, I need you in my life. But if you're my boss. . . ."
"Don't worry about that. The fact that I'm your Chief doesn't change the way you feel, does it?"
"No, but it changes what I can do. What we can do. When we were partners I was careful not to think of you as anything else. Being partners is, was, enough. It had to be. Despite that I sucked you into all kinds of Shannon drama. You didn't deserve that."
Marshall reaches for her hand. "You didn't deserve it either Sunshine. You didn't suck me in. You were my partner and I had your back. Your mother, your sister took so much it was a wonder you had anything left to give to the job. But you did. You kept your witnesses in the program and got them to testify. Remember when you put that smiley face on the pot head's microphone? You knew exactly what it would take to calm him down so he could do it. Even after they testified, you keep in touch. You care."
Mary grimaces. "Don't spread that around." She's not convinced. "That's the job. I can do the job dammit, I just can't do me! I don't think I can do us. My life is a pinball careening from one flipper to the next. I learned that I never get what I want so I taught myself not to want anything, anyone." She blinks several times.
Choking back her tears she continues. "Then there was you. Only you ever asked me what I needed. I never knew what that meant but I liked having you at my beck and call." She gives him a watery smile. "I took advantage of you, ordered you around, disrespected you, and yet you stayed. Until Abigail came along."
"Mary, most of the things you ordered me to do were for a witness. I did them when I agreed with your assessment of the situation. If I disagreed, I let you know. I wasn't your lapdog." Marshall replies seriously. "I tried to keep you in my life, but when Abigail and I were together you pushed me out!"
She pauses, brushing her hair aside so she could look into his eyes. "Yeah, well that's because I didn't belong in your life then. You told me as much that night on the balcony." She takes a deep breath and looks away. "It's taken me all these years but," she sniffs. "Now I know. What I need is you. Someone who gets me, someone who calls me on my bullshit and makes me think." Tears are dripping down her cheek unacknowledged.
Marshall is torn seeing her so distraught, but ecstatic that she's admitting that she wants him. Does this mean she loves him? His hopes plummet when she says "But I can't have you. I can't saddle you with me. I don't do art galleries and museums. I don't like trying new things. I think origami is a waste of time and I don't dance."
"Don't I get a say in this Mare? What about what I need, who I need? I don't care if you don't dance. I can teach you. Origami isn't a team sport and there's other things I can do with my talented fingers," he arches his eyebrow." That other stuff doesn't matter. It's superficial. That's what I realized when Abigail accused me of working with the Boss. She only knew the art gallery, book collector part of me. I never let her see the total geek lawman I really am. You are the only one who knows me, all of me."
Mary sniffs. "And bad ass. Don't forget bad ass."
Marshall smiles. "See, you can say nice things about me."
Mary wipes her cheeks. "A friend is someone who knows who you really are and likes you anyway. You're my friend, and I shouldn't want anything more."
He reaches across the small table and takes both her hands in his. "Yes you should. You should be happy. You should be loved. And you are. I love you Mare. I have since that first road trip with Claudia and Henry. The way you got Henry to shape up, the comfort you gave Claudia, the childhood memories you shared, that's who you are. That's who I love as much as I love the brass balled bitch who protects her witnesses and defends me."
Mary looks up, startled. "When did I defend you?"
"You think I don't know what you said to my Dad? You thought the man walked on water but you didn't hesitate to call him out when you knew he was wrong and I was right. He told me he was glad I had you to watch my back. Did you know that after meeting Abigail he asked me why I was with her? He thought I should be with you. He knew you're the yin to my yang."
"Don't say yang," she sniffed. "Or yin."
"Face it Mare, we're two parts of a whole. You make me whole. 'Come live with me and be my love and we will all the pleasures prove.'" For once she doesn't disparage his use of poetry.
Mary is touched by the sentiment but can't admit it. "Christopher Marlow? Seriously?"
"Damn straight I'm serious. But see what you just did there?" He leans back, releasing her hands. "You project this rough unlettered persona, but I know you're more than a Die Hard fan. You couldn't make it through college without some exposure to literature and the arts. And I know" he leans forward and shakes a finger at her, "some of it stuck." He sits back smiling. "You just outed yourself Sunshine."
"So I know a poem, that doesn't make us soulmates."
"Not just that no. But you said releasing me was a mistake, that it created a void in your life even Norah couldn't fill."
Eyes red, hair tangled, cheeks wet, she frowns. "I never said that."
"Not in those exact words, but 'a hole in my life, in me?' You said that in the hospital."
Mary drops her head. "Yeah, I did."
"So let's fix that hole. Let me be your love. You do love me, don't you?"
Eyes glossy with unshed tears, Mary locks her gaze on him. "Yes, but I'll never call you sugar bear."
Relieved that she's willing to entertain the thought of them together, Marshall sighs and lets his fear fade. "I would never expect you to. Doofus is good enough."
Mary snickers. "That's Mr. Dieufus."
Marshall laughs. "What have we got to lose. I know you, all of you and you know me, all of me."
Mary rolls her eyes, but Marshall sees a glimmer of hope. "I don't know all of you, not yet," she smirks. Marshall blushes and she's amused. But Mary can't keep reality from intruding. "How are we going to do this? I can't work for you if we're, you know, together."
"No worries. Stan's been looking for other positions for both of us." Marshall's smiling, relaxed, but not letting go of her hands.
"Why both of us? You just made Chief. I should be the one looking for a job."
"I wouldn't make that decision for you, and you shouldn't make it for me either. My interests are many and varied. There are other things I can do besides being Chief."
"How much does origami pay?" she jibes. "You're a fifth-generation marshal! WitSec is your life."
"You're wrong, Mare. My life would be complete with you and Norah." Marshall stands and pulls her up into his arms. "I want to come home with you every night and sleep beside you. I want to tuck Norah in and read her stories. I want to take her to her first day of kindergarten. I want to see her graduate from college. And yes, I even want to change her diapers no matter how gross."
Mary's smiles fondly and puts her hands on his chest. "You got it bad Doofus."
Marshall hangs his head and softly says, "Well, I'd have you and Norah. That's a good deal. Mary, I want to be your husband."
Mary shrugs and looks at him out of the corner of her eye. "About that marriage thing. We don't have to have a wedding, do we? That didn't work out so well for either of us."
His heart leaps. "Mary my love, would you marry me?"
"Sure, I guess." Despite her unenthusiastic shrug her gaze is direct, intense.
It's Marshall's turn to roll his eyes. "Not the undying romantic declaration of love I was hoping for."
"I thought you said you knew me." She grins and smacks his chest. "This is me Doofus. I don't do romance."
"But will you do forever, with me?"
She stands and pulls him up. Still holding his hand, she leads him to the bedroom. They stand next to the bed and just before their lips meet she says, "I promise you forever, one day at a time."
"That will do just fine."
"Always got to have the last word," she snarks.
"No that would be you."
She pushes him onto the bed and straddles him. "Shut up Doofus."
"Whew!" Marshall eyes are closed as he rolls over, pulling the sheet off the woman next to him. Lying on her stomach Mary lifts up on her elbows, surveying her handiwork – a sweaty sated Marshall.
"Are you happy?"
Marshall puts his forearm over his eyes. "No."
Mary frowns sadly. "I should have known. Sex never fixed anything."
Marshall opens his eyes surveying her sad face. He rolls her over and settles on top of her holding her face between his hands, forcing her to look into his eyes. Hair flopping, cheeks pink he declares, "I'm not happy, I'm ecstatic. I'm so happy my happy meter is pinned."
Relieved, Mary pushes her hips into his. "Is that what you call it?"
Marshall laughs. "Only when I'm with you."
Mary stares into his eyes, making sure he really wants her. "Norah is starting to warm to you, but then you bribed her."
"Giving her pony back rides is not a bribe."
Mary rolls her eyes.
Marshall runs his thumbs over her lips. "I love you Mare. You're the yin to my yang." Mary closes her eyes and purses her lips as he continues. "You're the butter to my cup."
"Yeah? And I'm the doughnut to your hot dog," Mary retorts.
"Those don't go together," Marshall complains.
"Oh no?" Mary runs her hand down his chest, dipping low under the sheets.
Marshall's eyes open wide and he laughs. "Or, maybe they do." He nods in agreement. "You realize you are the thorn to my rose."
Mary smirks. "You're the bullet to my gun."
Marshall is just getting started. "You're the sun to my shine. You're the French to my fry."
Mary smacks his chest. "You're the fruit to my loop."
With her lips devouring his, Marshall, has no comeback. Which is just the way Mary likes him.
A/N: One more chapter to go - a short epilogue.