Author's Notes:
Is you Is or is you Ain't?
Sequel to "Canary on a Landmine" - It had been a long week for Marshals Shannon and Mann and from the looks of things they were going to be dealing with the fallout for months to come. Story includes Marshall with an OC (the series will end being M/M but that is a ways down the line.)
Disclaimer time: I do not own, nor pretend to own the characters of In Plain Sight. This work is not intended to contest said ownership and no profit is being made from the telling of this tale. (I'm just having too much fun to stop)
Isn't/Fake Is/Emergency backup Is/Agent Elder on the other hand is mine, and ... it's complicated.
Mary was half asleep when the phone rang. She groaned slightly and picked up her cell phone. A quick check told her it was Marshall.
"God, Marshall... do you know what time it is?"
"Eleven," he answered in a typically matter of fact tone of voice.
"Any word on Marlin or how much he's screwed Isabelle?"
"None yet, although... O'Conner has an interesting theory."
"Do I even want to know what that man thinks?" She rolled her eyes as she spoke, knowing full well that although Marshall couldn't see her, he would somehow know.
"Probably not... but it seems after cleverly arranging for her husband to be killed by an IED in Iraq, Agent Elder spent four years in mourning before hiring a contract killer to take her out as well. "
"What? No.. Marshall... it's late I'm tired... I'm really not in the mood for playing 20 questions over the phone... Do we have anything?"
"Nothing so far," he summarized taking pity on her. "You?"
"Is is in a holding pattern, but the paperwork's in order... Stan sent me home... and I had a cat burglar..."
It took Marshall a moment to process her statement and then the questions came in rapid succession.
"Are you all right? Did the police catch them? Do you need me to come home..."
"Jesus, Marshall.. I'm fine... See... this is why I don't make jokes."
"A joke?"
"No, Marshall... I literally had a cat...break into my house... "
"A cat?"
"Yes Marshall... a cat. Four legs... fur... the works. I almost shot a freaking cat."
"Let me see if I get this straight: a cat... broke into your house... and you almost shot it. Did it talk to you?"
"I was not hallucinating Marshall. Unlike some of your supposed dates, the cat was real. "
There was a long silence before Marshall spoke again.
"Get some rest... I think we can both use it," Marshall said refusing to fall for her bait.
"Be careful."
"Always."
Marshall gave his cell phone a suspicious glance as it went off. The waitress he'd been chatting with smiled at him to see if he wanted some privacy.
When he gave her an apologetic smile and nodded slightly, she headed back to the kitchen to check on his breakfast.
"Marshall," he announced by way of greeting.
"Marshall Mann?" The person on the other end asked.
"How may I help you?"
"This is inspector Beth Petersen, OPR... I need you to come into the Denver field office right now."
There was something in her tone of voice that sounded like she expected him drop everything immediately.
"Which one?"
"FBI. Someone will be waiting for you at the front desk."
"Understood Inspector, I will be there as soon as I can."
"Right now." She repeated as if he were an errant school boy.
"Since I can neither teleport, nor defy the laws of physics not to mention the local traffic laws, I will be there as soon as I can."
Inspector Petersen was silent, almost to the point of belligerence before she finally answered. "Fine."
Marshall shrugged and closed his phone. After seven years with Mary Shannon, he doubted anyone could make him 'cower in his boots.' Then again- no one, with the exception of his dad could do it before Mary.
He signaled the waitress. Breakfast was going to have to be 'to go'.
Marshall managed to make it to the Federal Building in record time, but judging by the attitude of his escorts, Inspector Petersen had been less than pleased with his application of logic.
They led him to a conference room on the third floor and gestured for him to enter, making it clear they wanted to avoid the wrath of the woman inside.
Agent O'Conner was there as well, nursing a steaming cup of coffee and obviously trying to get his point across.
"Inspector Mann, so nice of you to join us," the woman greeted him, blatantly ignoring whatever O'Conner was trying to say. The venom in her voice was not lost on Marshall.
"Inspector Petersen I presume," he said, hoping to get through the entire section of posturing and jurisdiction wars as quickly and bloodlessly as possible.
She nodded as if to say 'good, you'll know where the axe came from' before launching an attack on both of them."
"Gentlemen... Do you think the members of OPR can't handle this sort of investigation: the kind of investigation we are trained to handle? Or were you just trying to 'save me some time?'
Marshall gave her a raised eyebrow as he did a double take. As he saw it, they were simply doing the basic groundwork, something that was usually helpful in processing a case since the first twenty four to forty-eight hours of an investigation were the most pressing and it took over twelve for OPR to get an investigator on scene.
"Inspector, as I see it there is no slight intended in any of our actions. I believe there are three, very different, interrelated investigations going on here and if we lose sight of that, we all will lose," Marshall answered without raising his voice.
She glared at him for a moment then shifted, her breathing slowed but there was still an air of suppressed anger that surrounded her.
As O'Conner prepared to step in, the phrase 'let the Wookie win' came to mind. Part of him was tempted to let the two of them duke it out allowing him to work with the survivor, but he knew that would be counterproductive. Entertaining perhaps, but in the end no one would win.
"Correct me if I'm wrong," he said weathering the OPR Inspector's ire with practiced diplomacy.
"Agent O'Conner's investigation is into the attempted murder for hire of three federal agents," he said without raising his voice or changing his tone.
"Your investigation is into the involvement of our former ADA in said case, and determining just how corrupt he was and whether or not he is the backstabbing conniving bastard we believe him to be."
He paused realizing he was starting to channel Mary and took a step back. Now was not the time for Mary-isms.
"My job is to determine whether or not my partner and I were compromised by the events of last week so we can do a valid threat assessment as to our safety and that of our witnesses."
"Your investigation, and O'Conner's have the most overlap and could very well be the same case, only time will tell. However, how those cases are dealt with is entirely up to the DOJ, to whom we all answer.
"You mean to tell me you have no personal agenda here," Petersen asked, a Texas twang slipping into her question.
He paused his eyes narrowing slightly. 'The Closer?'
He shook his head: now was not the time to get distracted.
"If you're asking if I take someone trying to get me and my partner killed personally?" He paused as he thought about that for all of about second. "Yes."
He shrugged: it was a given.
"If, however, you're asking me if I'm going to try and take over this case for a pound of flesh, the answer is no. My concern, my only concern, is making sure that none of this affects my witnesses, and if it does, that we act quickly to get them all safely reassigned before it comes back to bite us."
He tilted his head slightly, maintaining his usual degree of respect as he waited for a response. He was after all discussing a plan of action with his colleagues.
Petersen scowled slightly as she tried to figure out if he was telling her what he thought she wanted to hear, or was being completely honest.
Marshall's entire reaction to her almost accusatory look was a frown and a another shrug.
It became readily obvious that his comments and reaction were nowhere near what she was expecting and as such she had no idea how to respond. If she had been Mary, he would have smirked.
A/N - Thanks for reading. See you again next week (hopefully)
