~CH 3 is a little longer I think. Please tell me if I'm being too long-winded or the pace isn't fast enough. I need some feedback for anything I need to~ improve on. I promise after this the plot will move a lot faster though. I'm not trying to write a book. Lol. Though come to think of it…..Nah, too bad I don't own IPS:) Oh, and thanks to the good people who alerted or reviewed my story. It made me oh so happy!
Marshall woke up at the same time he did every morning like clockwork. He dressed, went for a run, showered…then …He wasn't sure what he was doing. He leaned against the counter in his kitchen staring morosely at the intricate tile work under his feet. He wasn't sure how long he stayed this way, coffee offering warmth to his chilled hands, wondering just what was keeping him from moving, getting out and doing what he had originally planned for his vacation.
He splashed the dregs of the remaining liquid into the sink and laughed under his breath, "Oh, you know exactly what is bothering you. A few hours back and already you're letting her interrupt your thoughts." She was akin to a tall, beautiful, blonde train wreck that just happened to occupy his mental highways almost every second of the day. How exactly was he supposed to get over that? Just as in real life, his personal train-wreck was hard to remove and stuck in his mind long after witnessing the actual mess.
His truck rumbled to life as he pushed the number 1 on his speed dial and waited for the familiar huskiness to fill his ears. Instead he got more of a croak than anything and his brow instinctively creased in worry while unconsciously his foot pressed a little harder on the gas peddle.
"Marshall, what the hell?" he could make out that much of her garbled vocabulary.
"Mare, are you feeling better this morning or is it time for a hospital visit?"
"You call me at this hour because you wanna take me to the hospital. Some friend you are."
Some friend you are. It reverberated in his head for a second before the rest of her words made it through.
"I thought you were on vacation. I mean, who gets up this early when they don't have to?"
"A friend who is worried about their partner. You know, the one that they dragged home from the airport last night almost catatonic and the color of a goldfish."
"Well, rest assured partner. I'm no longer catatonic, and though I think you're making the fishy past up just to annoy me, I wouldn't mind being gold." Her voice was getting stronger, he assumed it was due to getting some coffee into her system, as he heard the glasses clinking and her sigh of contentment a moment later. Obviously there was no need to worry. She was back to normal.
"Eh, you're right. You were more of a greenish-yellow than gold. Much like a snail." He couldn't help but hear the slight edge to his voice that was normally absent from their usual banter and wondered if her voice had a slightly different tone also. He hoped she wasn't as perceptive, but then wanted her to be at the same time. Mary could twist him in more directions than the snakes of Medusa.
"I have to go. I'll talk to you later." He hung up after her short reply. A few minutes later he pulled out of their favorite morning diner. Coffee and pastries filled his passenger side as he drove to the office one more time before he was officially on vacation.
Marshall tried to time it just right so that he could hand out the goodies, use a forgotten file as reason for his unexpected arrival, and make sure Mary was okay, then be on his way. He spoke to Stan, asking him to keep an eye on Mary after filling him in on her recent bug. Then he spread her coffee and pastries on her desk as a welcome back though he couldn't muster any more effort than that under the circumstances. He watched her mustang pull up in front of the building and her long legs protrude from the car followed by a relatively healthy Mary. Worry abated, he prepared to make his exit but Stan had other plans.
Marshall followed his boss into his office all the while wondering if he would make it before she got up there. He had a feeling if they were to come face to face again he wouldn't be able to hide his feelings. He wasn't happy that Mary had been ill last night, far from it, but it had thankfully saved him from having to think about any emotion other than the normal concern for a sick friend. Or rather more than simple concern, but he wasn't going there. He wasn't. Stan turned and faced him after closing the door.
"Marshall," Stan rubbed his palm over his forehead before continuing. "Is there going to be a problem with you two that I should know about?" He looked as uncomfortable as the time he had to ask Mary if she were expecting when she got a bad virus one time that had her throwing up every morning. "I know there were…things said and done that…may have an impact on your partnership. I need to know now if there will be any…permanent damage?" He looked a the floor then faced Marshall squarely, wanting a direct answer.
Marshall took a deep breath, "Sir, I won't let anything affect our job or our witnesses. You know that is our first priority."
Stan watched Marshall for a minute before nodding, "I know that Marshal. But sometimes the job isn't everything." He got a faraway look in his eyes for a moment before recovering. "One more thing. I know this is your vacation but,"
"I might be going out of town so I won't be available for any witnesses," Marshall quickly informed him.
"No, nothing like that. I'm not worried about witnesses. I'm worried about Mary. We both know she isn't the best person to work alone in some cases. But I had to split your workload among the other marshals and Mary was the only one qualified for Montgomery. I can't take it or I would." he trailed off as Marshall realized where he was heading.
Montgomery was one of his more high profile witnesses, if you can have high profile in witness protection. Montgomery was as highly regarded as you could get among the higher ups. He was still allowed contact with certain people because of the sheer breadth of his power. Being in Witness Protection was more of a gesture than anything, as a way to transfer funds into a new identity which otherwise would have been lost to him. The man practically had half the U.S. judges and a few senators on speed dial and it pissed Marshall and Mary off to no end. He difference was that Marshall could handle it and Mary, as she so eloquently put it, didn't kiss asses that couldn't clean up their own shit.
"Uh, sir, that could be a problem. No let me rephrase, that will be a problem." Marshall shook his head slowly, smiling a little to himself. He just knew he wasn't getting this vacation. The gods were against it, apparently. "My next visit isn't until Friday. Can I at least have until then off?" He needed some time even if it was a couple days only to calm down from this emotional rollercoaster he was on.
Stan looked surprised at his words. "What? No, Marshal. You're still taking that vacation. You need it as much as Mary did, if not more." He seemed to realize the awkwardness his statement caused because after a brief pause he bulldozed on pretending not to have made such a blatant slip-up. "I just wanted to give you a heads up, just in case. I know she is probably the worse possible one to give him to, but truthfully, he would chew the other inspectors up and spit them out. Mary can hold her own." Mary walked in just then and they both watched her through the blinds as she stopped in front of her desk and took in the caffeine and sugar factory Marshall had left there. They both saw the small wistful smile she tried to hide by stuffing a donut into her mouth whole. Marshall smiled unknowingly as Stan watched then turned back to the older man.
"Yet that's the same thing giving me cramps just thinking about it. What is she going to do when he threatens her with a call to the senator if she doesn't find an old friend's brother's uncle's son to send a birthday card to."
Marshall looked back at his strong-willed, stubborn, often-times abrasive partner before answering. "Mary will do her job. If it isn't her job, then Mary will call me. It's what she does. Don't worry, if there's something she can't handle or simply doesn't want to, she will find a way to get me to do it." A little grin crossed his face fleetingly as he remembered times when Mary had needed him and actually asked for help. Work was the only placed she allowed herself to let him lend a hand. It was the only place she allowed herself to admit when she was out of her depth in certain things. Although most of the time, this required the calling of names and acting on her part to make it seem as if she hadn't asked at all. He still knew. She was his partner.
Bringing himself back from memory lane, he told Stan to call him if anything needed to be done about Montgomery and headed out of his office with well wishes from his boss. Mary looked up surprised. He had not parked his truck where she would see it when she pulled in, hoping to not have this run in yet.
"What are you doing here? Just couldn't resist me, could you cowboy?" she asked. Marshall thought that she had not known what feelings her words evoked. But he glimpsed her slight grimace as she quickly turned to the file cabinet beside her desk. The one where all the files were hidden. She opened the drawer and paused before picking all of them up and sitting them on her desk with a loud thunk and looked up at Marshall.
"What gives, Doofus? You were supposed to do my paperwork while I was out. You know, for the witnesses that you were also supposed to take care of? Or did you forget them, too?" She stood up and laid both palms on either side of the files, in confrontational mode.
Marshall stepped closer, ready for it. "When have you ever known me to forget anything? I believe you were the one who forgot something, like maybe the yearly workups on your witnesses. You see," he said in a light casual voice, "That wasn't part of my job. That was yours. And it looks like you still have, oh.." He leaned closer to her to look at the calendar on her desk, her smell surrounding him, "hmm, about five days to turn them in. You should be fine, Mare." He rocked back on his heels, hands in his pockets as she glared at him. Then he did the unthinkable. He snatched one of her donuts before walking away. He laughed to himself as he heard her cussing behind him and a wads of papers were assaulting him on his way out the door. Sometimes revenge was just better than anything that could be said. And there weren't very many things that Mary hated more than paperwork.
If you feel so inclined, I would love some feedback, both positive and negative. I have to know what to improve in order to do so!