Wow! "You like me, you really like me!" Sorry, couldn't resist. Anywho, here's some happiness for you all, but I warn you, it's not over yet. I know, I know, you all want resolution. But seriously, it's coming! Give it time! It will be good, I promise!

Disclaimer: I wish I owned IPS...but alas, I do not.

Marshall was alternating between pacing around and leaning on his SUV as he waited by the small landing strip behind the airport, which was used for private flights only. He checked his watch again. 10:02. According to his calculations, they should be arriving at any time, assuming things had run smoothly in getting out of Las Vegas and that they'd had no trouble on the flight.

He was nervous. A myriad of questions bombarded him at rapid intervals. What state of mind would Mary be in? How upset was she about Raph? Was she really over him? What was she thinking and feeling?

How was he going to help?

He had been hoping that when she returned from her vacation, they could discuss the issues about their relationship that he had started to touch on before she left. But now, with this setback, he knew that would have to wait until Mary was ready for it. He was ready now, had been ready for a long time. But if there was one thing he knew about Mary, it was that timing was everything. He needed to get her over this hurtle—well, first he needed to find out what exactly the hurtle was, and then get her over it—before he could even think about how their relationship could progress in the direction he wanted it to.

She'd said she was thinking about it, but how much had she been able to analyze and consider all aspects of it before all hell had broken loose with Raph? Where was her head at now?

He ran a hand through his hair and sighed, leaning back against the car door again. It would be impossible to even begin to strategize before he had seen her and had a chance to talk with her. But he couldn't wait much longer. If it was going to be yes, a thing he barely dared to hope for, then it would open up a whole new chapter between them, one that was difficult and messy as hell, but it would be good. It would be really good. If it was going to be no, then so be it. He wouldn't leave, couldn't leave. He was helpless, addicted, if you will, to her, to everything that was her. Unless something changed, either in her life or his, he would continue to go on as he had done for years, suffering silently, unwilling to alter anything.

To the outside observer, he was the very epitome of a fool.

The outside observer did not know Mary.

Just then, he saw a small plane land, and he straightened, exhaled slowly, then started for the tarmac. Airport security came towards him, but one flash of his badge, and they nodded, backing off. It didn't take long for Tony to taxi the plane over to the hanger, and almost immediately thereafter, the plane door opened and Mary came down the steps. He waited about a hundred yards from the plane, shuffling his feet a little, unsure of how to proceed. His instinct was to sweep her up and hold her close, but he knew better than to act on his own instincts without considering hers. She might be more likely to shoot him for doing that. No, she would be the driving force here.

She saw him, but did not wave. He could see, even from where he was, that she was exhausted, both emotionally and physically. Her walk, her stance, her expression; everything radiated the need for rest and comfort. He swallowed down a lump that had formed, and began walking towards her slowly, watching her.

She came right at him, her satchel over one shoulder, her eyes fixed on his. He stopped about three feet from her, but she didn't stop. She walked right into his chest, wrapping her arms around him and burying her face in his shoulder. His arms were around her instantly, holding her tightly against him. He was surprised and worried, but not at all unhappy, about this reaction of hers. He wanted to comfort her, and she wanted comfort from him. He forced himself not to smile, and started stroking her hair with one hand. She breathed slowly and deeply, as if she were trying to maintain control. He wanted to tell her that it was all right, that she didn't need control, not with him, but that would come later, once she had rested.

"Hi," he said softly after a long moment.

"Hi," she responded, her voice muffled against him.

"Did you sleep?"

He felt her nod. "About an hour." Then she chuckled. "Tony's very entertaining."

"That he is," he sighed, looking up at the plane to see the man himself grinning at him from the stairs. "I bet he told you all sorts of stories."

She pulled back slightly and smiled cunningly. "Oh, he did."

"God save me," he muttered. Then he looked Mary carefully in the eyes, searching there. "Are you ok?" he asked quietly, not wanting Tony, who was headed for them with Mary's bag, to overhear.

She started to nod, then just shrugged. "I just need to get home."

He nodded, and rubbed her arms softly. "I'll take you, just a second." He put an arm around her and turned them both to face Tony. "Thanks for doing this, Tony. I really appreciate it."

Tony shrugged, still grinning. "Hey, like I said, if you'd told me it was Mary here who I'd be carting, I'd have said yes immediately, no sweat. We had a great time, didn't we?"

She smiled up at him, her eyes squinting in the bright sunlight. "Hell yes, we did."

"I'm very afraid right now," Marshall said, reaching into his pocket. "But even so, I am grateful. And now…" He pulled out a piece of paper, and Tony's eyes darted to it instantly. "…I do believe I owe you this."

Tony snatched it from his fingers and held it tightly, then he looked up at him. "I swear to God, Marshall, if you're screwing with me…"

"I'm not," he assured him, trying not to laugh. "That's her number. I even called it to check."

"Did you tell her I was gonna call her?"

He nodded, a grin trying to break through. "Yep. She said she would be looking forward to it."

Tony's eyes lit up like a little kid on Christmas morning. "She did?"

Marshall nodded again.

Tony whooped and punched a fist in the air, bringing laughs from the other two. "Oh, man, Marshall, I owe you big!"

He shook his head. "No, we are even now."

Tony looked at him and smiled. "Huh-uh. I told you, I'd have brought Mary for nothing at all. I still owe you, brother." He shook hands with him, then grabbed Mary in a big bear hug, which startled both Mary and Marshall, but Mary just laughed and hugged him back. "Next time, lemme fly you somewhere cool, ok, Mare? And not this early in the morning, I'm much more entertaining later in the day."

"I'll try to keep that in mind," she quipped as she stepped back to Marshall's side. "Thanks, Tony. Really."

He saluted them both. "Don't mention it. See you around, kids. Be good." He looked meaningfully at Mary and winked, then put his Oakley's back on and headed over to his plane and the landing crew.

"Funny guy," Mary murmured fondly. Then she looked up at Marshall. "He really likes you, you know."

"He said that?" he asked watching his friend leave. "I always thought I was just an annoying big brother."

"Well, annoying, sure, but still."

He made a face at her. "Thanks. Appreciate it." He sighed and picked up her bag. "Ok, off we go. Have you eaten anything?"

She shook her head as they started for his car. "Not since last night."

"Ok, then, first stop is breakfast."

She scowled and looked over at him. "Can't I just go home?"

He shook his head and took her arm. "Nope. You are going to get some decent food in you before we do anything else. You need nourishment and comfort food, which would probably be best served by pancakes."

Her stomach growled in response as he opened the car door for her and she slid in. "Ok, fine, pancakes and then home," she gave in. "But only because I'm starving."

He rolled his eyes and closed her door, put her suitcase in the back, then got in his own seat and started the car.

Thirty minutes later, Mary was half-way through her pile of pancakes, and starting to slow down, when she noticed Marshall watching her.

"What?" she asked as she sipped some of her coffee.

"What?" he replied, jerking as if he'd been shocked.

"You're staring, doofus."

"Maybe I'm impressed by your ability to consume pancakes at such an alarming rate," he offered, sitting back slightly and reaching for his own coffee.

She gave him a look that left no doubt she didn't buy that answer, and he sighed. "I'm just concerned about you, Mary. Can't I do that?"

"I'll be fine, Marshall," she murmured, cutting another section of her breakfast and forking it in moodily.

"I know that," he said softly, reaching over and taking her hand. "I know. But right now, in this moment, you are not fine. You are emotionally and physically drained, and who wouldn't be after what you've been through in the last eight hours? You said that all of this wasn't because of Raph, but it was because of you, and that is what concerns me. I want to know what it is about you that has caused all of this."

She sighed, pushing away her breakfast and looking down at her hands. "Do I have to do this now?"

He hesitated, not wanting to push her, but needing to know himself. He couldn't begin to help her if she didn't open up.

"I'm not saying I won't tell you, Marshall, cuz you know I will," she said softly. "I'll tell you everything. But I just don't know if I can right now." She looked up at him, her eyes pleading.

He watched her steadily for a moment, then nodded. "Ok, as long as you promise you'll talk to me about this, we can put it off."

"I promise. Thanks." She reached into her pocket to pull out money for the bill, but he shook his head.

"I've got this, Mare."

"No! You've done so much already, I can at least pay for my breakfast."

He shook his head and paid the waitress. "Normally, I would let you pay for anything that you asked to pay for, considering what a cheapskate you tend to be, but just this once, I'm going to override your protests."

She smirked at him, and got up, stretching the kinks that had started to form in her back. "I need a bed," she moaned.

"I would suggest holding off on actually sleeping until later," Marshall said as they walked back to his car. "It will allow your body to reestablish a regular sleeping pattern without having to adjust to additional stresses. You will get a more fulfilling sleep if you do so at a more natural time."

"Your mind is not natural," she muttered as they started to drive.

"There she is," Marshall said with a fond smile.

"Shut up." She fell silent as they drove, and then, as she noticed their surroundings, turned to look at her partner. "Where are we going?"

For the first time since they'd been together again, he looked uneasy.

"Marshall…"

He winced, then plowed ahead, speaking rapidly. "I may have dropped by your house this morning on my way to pick you up and discovered that your mom and Brandi decided to have a little girl time at your house while you were away and I deduced that you would not want to be involved in any way, shape, or form, so I'm taking you to my place so you can enjoy your remaining days of vacation in uninterrupted peace and quiet, free from irritation or stress."

He held his breath, waiting for the inevitable explosion. When none came, he chanced a glance over at her and saw that she was staring at him in shock. His mind raced. What part was she having trouble with? The fact that her family had decided to intrude again or the fact that he was taking her to his house without asking? He decided to defend the latter first.

"I would have done a hotel, but I didn't think you would want to go to another hotel so soon, and I'm not even going to be home until the evenings, and I have a spare bedroom, so you would have all the privacy you'd want, which is what I know you need, and I—"

"Sounds great, Marshall, but back up," she interrupted, brushing aside his defense with an impatient flick of her hand. "Mom and Brandi are having a party at my house? While I'm on vacation?"

If he'd had more time, Marshall would have reveled in the relief that cascaded over him, but as it was…

"Yeah. Peter's been gone for about as long as you have, and Brandi didn't want to be alone, apparently, so they've been staying at your house. They're planning to leave Wednesday morning, and swear you'll never know they were there, which is a moot point now, considering I've told you." He'd been upset with them when he'd discovered what they were up to, but opted not to tell them that Mary was coming home early. It would be better if they didn't know anything at all.

"And you didn't tell them I was coming?"

"What, and have them anticipate the fury you'll unleash upon them? No, thank you."

She sat back and closed her eyes. "Well, there's that at least. I can just finish my vacation at your house, I've got no problem with that. It's a much better idea than just going to my house and having to fend for myself. You have food?"

He chuckled. "Yes, I have food. I'll even be your chef, if you want."

She smiled and sighed, letting some of the tension leave her. "That would be nice. Do you have a hat?"

"Sadly, I do not, but there is a pie waiting for you."

"I love vacation."

Soon enough, they were pulling into his driveway. Mary hadn't said anything else, and he sensed that her exhausted state was driving that more than anything that might have been on her mind. She got out of the car without a word, and headed into the house like a zombie. He steered her to the couch and sat her down, which she did without complaint.

"Ok, Mare, your room is just down this hall and to the left, all right? There's a bathroom in there, fresh towels, clean sheets…" He trailed off as she looked up at him, her eyes slightly out of focus. He sighed and sat down on the couch next to her. "Hey, you gonna be ok? I can stay here if you want. I don't want you to be alone."

She shook her head and patted his arm. "No, you go ahead. I'm not gonna be good for much of anything until I sleep. But thank you."

He smiled and touched her cheek. "Ok, if you're sure?"

She nodded.

He got up and took her bag into the room he'd hastily readied this morning, doing a brief scan of it as he did so. It seemed to be ready enough, and he went back out to his living room. Mary still sat on the couch, hands in her lap, staring at nothing.

"All right, then," he said, squatting down in front of her and taking her hands. Her tired eyes met his worried ones, and he sighed. "If there's anything you need, call me, ok? I can bring you anything you need, I can come back and sit here with you, I make a pretty decent pillow if that's all you need."

That brought a smile to her face and his heart soared a little at its appearance.

"I mean it, Mare. Anything at all. Call me, ok?"

"Ok," she said softly, squeezing his hands. "I will."

He held her hands tightly, searching her eyes. "Let's talk when I get back, ok? Can we do that?"

She nodded, her eyes tearing up a little. "Yeah, I think we need to."

"I agree." He squeezed her hands once more, and smiled, standing up. "Don't forget about your pie."

She eyed the refrigerator suspiciously. "I won't."

"It doesn't stand a chance, does it?"

"Not a bit."

"I don't suppose asking you to save me a piece would do any good?"

She shrugged. "You never know. I might be feeling generous later."

He chuckled and left, waving to her as he did so, wondering just how much work he was going to get done knowing that Mary was waiting for him at his home. It was going to be a long afternoon.

Marshall came back a little after eight o'clock, feeling himself like he could sleep for three days. He couldn't imagine how exhausted Mary must have been feeling. There were few lights on in the house, and he didn't hear any noise as he entered.

"Mary?" he called quietly, not knowing whether she would even be awake.

There was no response. He put his keys, gun, and badge on the counter as he always did, and checked the living room. The couch was rumpled and there was a blanket piled up on it. He smiled, and picked up the glass that was sitting coaster-less on his coffee table. Normally, that was a big pet peeve of his, but considering it was Mary and considering the situation, he'd let it slide. He took the glass back into the kitchen, and saw the remains of her dinner on a plate in the sink. He frowned. It was a lot of food left on the plate. He wrapped it all up and put it back in the fridge, noting that the pie had indeed been partially consumed, which made him feel a little better about the lack of dinner.

He headed down the hallway to his guest bedroom, wondering if she'd already gone to bed. The door was open, and he peered inside.

There she was, curled up on her side facing away from him, still in her clothes from the day, on top of the covers. He could hear her slow, steady breathing, and wondered how long she had been asleep.

Her bag was sitting on the floor, opened, but most everything still inside of it, all bunched up and disorganized. He saw a plastic bag that seemed not to belong, and took that out, dislodging some clothes from the bag. Inside was the dress that Raph had apparently made her spill a cocktail on. It was still damp. Carefully, he piled everything else back in. She would take care of it later, if she wanted to. He doubted she'd appreciate him folding and organizing her laundry.

He looked up at Mary's sleeping form on the bed and sighed. She had been so fatigued she hadn't cared enough to unpack even a little. He went over to the bed, wincing as a floorboard creaked beneath his boots. Her mouth was slightly open, and a few strands of hair had fallen over her forehead and now danced in the air as she breathed. He smiled softly, and touched her shoulder.

"Mary," he said quietly, pulling at the covers under her. "Mary, c'mon, let's get you into bed."

"I am in bed," she murmured sleepily, stirring slightly.

"I know you are, sweetie, but let's get you under the covers, ok?"

"Mkay," she replied, shifting so he could pull them from beneath her. He helped her get between them, then tucked the blankets in around her.

"That's it," he soothed as she snuggled back in. "Feel better?"

"Yeah," she whispered, burrowing her face into the pillow, "'s better. Smells like…Marshall…"

"Sorry about that," he breathed, adjusting the covers and resting his hand on her hair.

"It's ok," she said, and he could tell he was losing her to sleep again. "It's nice…"

He was startled to feel his cheeks heat slightly at her sleepy words. He swallowed hastily and scooted closer. "Good night, Mary," he murmured, leaning over to kiss her brow.

" 'night, Marshall."

Her breathing deepened again, and she began making sounds that were somewhere between breathing and snoring, which he found utterly charming. He sat down beside her and continued to stroke her hair, brushing those few strands away from her face. She looked so peaceful and at rest, so beautiful just like this, that breathing was suddenly a touch more difficult than normal. He was oh-so tempted to curl up beside her and hold her while she slept, to protect her from dreams, to make sure she was all right.

But he couldn't do that. It was too soon, there was too much that needed to be said, too much that was unknown.

Still, he wondered if he would ever be able to do this again. To just sit here and watch her sleep, to stroke her hair, to hold her the way she'd let him today. He would love nothing more than days and years of moments just like this.

He closed his eyes, wishing he knew what Mary was feeling. I hope you know that…I love you. His own words echoed in his mind. Had she known that meaning behind them? That he was not speaking of the platonic love of partners, or even the deeper love of friends, but of real, true, honest, romantic love. A love that went beyond reason, made him forget himself, made his entire world about her.

Exhaling sharply, he forced himself off of her bed and, picking up the bag with her wet dress in it, he walked out of the room. He could not dwell on his own feelings, not yet. There would be time enough for that when all of this was over.

If he could wait that long.

Okay, I'll apologize to those of you who actually thought they'd talk this chapter. My bad. But review anyway, and have a little faith in me, ok? Ok. =)