New Chapter! Just some genuine Mary/Marshall time. As always, thanks to my beta, ladymars. Enjoy!

Mary woke to the smell of coffee. Marshall was already up, luring her out of bed with food by the smell of it. As delicious as it smelled, Mary stayed in bed, unable to move. Though her mind was deciding it was time to get up, her body was still yelling at her for everything she'd put it through. She glanced at the clock Marshall kept by the bed and it read seven in the morning. She'd slept for nearly thirteen hours. She burrowed further into the covers. She could smell Marshall on the sheets.

"Are you going to get up any time soon or are you planning to sleep all day?"

Mary peeked out over the top of the covers and saw Marshall standing there, leaning against the door frame, cup of coffee in his hand. Two of them, in fact. "The idea had some serious appeal to it."

He walked over and handed her one of the steaming cups in his hand. She sat up and took a sip, savoring the taste. Marshall always bought the good brand and served it to her with just one sugar. It was like heaven in a cup. He sat down on the bed facing her, sipping his own cup.

"Have you heard from Stan yet this morning?" she asked once about half the cup was gone. Her brain was starting to function normally again.

"Yeah," he said nodding. "He said to take the day off and if he saw either of us take a step into the building he'd have us escorted off the premises."

"He would do it too. Did he have anything useful to tell us?"

"They may have found out how, not necessarily who."

"And?"

"If Jason has someone in the post office, they could easily x-ray Amie's mail."

"Which is why Amie never suspected anything. The letter would never have been opened."

"Exactly. When this card came through, post marked from New Mexico, one of Jason's guys could have x-rayed it and voila! What should be on it but Nancy's signature? The guy who killed her is still denying that they have a guy in the postal system, but there aren't a lot of other ways Jason could have gotten the information."

Mary was silent as she processed the information. By sending a birthday card to her friend, Nancy had given her predators not only the state, but also the city that she was staying in. Postmarks even had part of the zip code on them. Granted, Albuquerque was a large city but it wasn't impossible to locate someone there. Nancy would have been a fairly easy target for Jason and his thugs. She set her cup on the night stand, balling her hands into fists.

Nancy had died because of a stupid mistake. She had done exactly what the Marshall Service had told her not to do. Now her funeral was being held next week in Maine. A mother had lost her daughter all over again because Nancy just had to send a best friend a birthday card.

"God damn it!" Mary screamed, hitting the bed with her fists. "God damn it, God damn it, God damn it!"

Marshall put his hand on her wrist to calm her. He could feel her shaking with fury. Nancy's death may not have been Mary's fault but Mary wouldn't stop blaming it on herself. He let her get all her anger out before offering her the cup of coffee again, hoping to help her even out her nerves. She took it gratefully.

"Feel better?" he asked, his voice low.

"I don't feel any worse."

"That's something, at least. Did you want some breakfast?"

"What did you make?"

"Pancakes and bacon."

"Sausage?"

"I think I could whip some up if that's what you wanted."

"Mind if I take a shower first?"

"Help yourself. Spare clothes are in the closet."

She raised her eyebrow at him. "You have clothes for me?"

"You're over here a lot," he shrugged. "I figured it was about time I owned some clothes you could wear, just in case."

"Doofus," but she was secretly grateful that he had chosen to do so. She hadn't been looking forward to putting on her dirty clothes or, worse yet, returning to her house in his.

Marshall made some food for her, and another serving for himself, while she was in the shower, including the rest of the sausage that was sitting in his fridge. When Mary came down again, she was in jeans and a dark blue tank top. Her feet were bare, causing her to be silent as she approached him. He handed her another cup of coffee and she grinned, happy to have more of her favorite beverage. She sat on one of his bar stools, watching him make breakfast.

"So, why is it exactly that you own a hairdryer?"

"Because sometimes you need it. Besides, did you know that seventy-five percent of men own hair products past shampoo and conditioner?"

"I guess I do now, whether I wanted to or not," she mumbled. "I still think it's a little odd that you own one."

"I think it's odd that you still keep a stuffed penguin under your pillow." The look on her face was worth the verbal, possibly physical, lashing he knew he was going to get. Clearly she thought that no one else knew about it.

"Who told you!"

"No one had to tell me, Mare. I was in there one day when you asked me to go look for your holster. I lifted up the pillow and there he was," Marshall placed a stack of pancakes with two sausage links and two bacon strips to accompany it, "all black and white with a little blue scarf."

"I can't believe you know about that." She stabbed her pancakes, taking a large bite. "I usually hide him so well." She said it through a mouth full of food.

"Not that day you didn't."

"If you tell anyone, I'll kill you."

Marshall made and X over his heart with his finger. "Cross my heart." They were silent for a few seconds more before he asked, "So, what did you name it?"

She flung a piece of pancake at him, too quick for him to duck. "I am never telling you." She turned her attention to her food, ignoring her partner who sat across the kitchen island from her. Marshall watched her eat, thinking about everything that had happened last night. She hadn't even mentioned it yet; Marshall wasn't entirely certain that she would. Mary wasn't the type of person to sit and have a heart to heart with you so Marshall didn't expect it.

Come to think of it, he wasn't even one-hundred percent sure she remembered. She had been pretty tired. Marshall shook his head; no, that wasn't it. He knew she remembered. After all, she had initiated the kiss, not him. The trick was going to be getting her to talk to him about it, to explain to him why she'd done it and what it meant. He may be in love with her but a kiss didn't mean she reciprocated his feelings.

"Stop looking at me like that."

Marshall jumped slightly. He hadn't been expecting her to say anything. "I don't know what you're talking about."

She looked up, dropping her fork on a now finished plate of pancakes. She picked up a strip of bacon and bit off the end. "You know exactly what I'm talking about. You don't usually scrutinize people while they're eating."

"I was thinking and you just happen to be in the way of my line of sight. Maybe if you moved your big head I could see the fridge, my real target of scrutiny."

"I don't want to know what you do with your fridge if you look at it like that." She finished the last of her food and then leaned over to steal some of Marshall's. He let her, partly because he wasn't hungry but more because it was useless to fight her.

"Maybe I just like it better than you. That's a good fridge."

"Yeah," she contradicted, wicked smile on her face, "but can it do this?" She leaned all the way across, planting her lips firmly on his. He could taste the maple syrup on her lips. He moved his hands to her neck, letting himself enjoy it this time. Now that he wasn't exhausted, it was much better. He could pay attention to her. Mary broke the kiss, sitting back down, but Marshall followed, not ready to stop just yet. He kissed her again until his back started complaining about how long he had been leaning over the table.

"What are we supposed to do if we're not allowed to work?"

Typical Mary, just move on as if nothing had happened, as if it were completely normal for two partners to start making out in the middle of the kitchen. Marshall finished the remnants of his breakfast and shrugged. "You could get some of that house work done," he suggested. Mary made a face that crossed between disgusted and laziness.

"I would probably break the things that need fixing anyway."

"You still haven't fixed the guest bathroom toilet, have you."

"The sink isn't draining now either."

"You couldn't call a plumber?"

"They over charge."

"And you break things." He deposited their plates in the sink and then he leaned against the counter, looking at her. "Let me get dressed and I'll come fix it."

"You're not just fixing this because I kissed you are you?" she teased.

"No," he said, walking down the hall.

"Am I going to have to give you sexual favors for jobs bigger than plugged drains?" she called after him.

"Yes, but that was my requirement even before you kissed me," he called back.

"Hand me the wrench," Marshall told her. He was in her bathroom, on his back, fiddling with the pipes under the sink. Mary was supervising and handing him tools so he wouldn't have to get up. She placed the heavy wrench in his outstretched hand. The pipe had squirted at him twice, getting his grey t-shirt wet. She could only see him from about the ribcage down, the rest was hidden in the cabinets below her sink. He had hung a light inside them so he could see what he was doing. Mary could see the glow from it.

The wrench appeared again. Mary took it and replaced it with the next tool that Marshall asked for. She heard some more banging. "Are you sure you know what you're doing?"

"I took a few plumbing classes in college."

"Of course you did. Who needs World History when you can take Plumbing 101?"

"It's proving to be a whole lot more useful right now that World History."

She kicked his cowboy boots and leaned against the door frame. "What exactly are you doing?" She took the opportunity to really look at Marshall without him noticing that she was doing it. If he ever saw her checking him out, she would never live it down. He was a lot more fit than she had expected him to be, but she couldn't exactly say she was surprised. Marshall was the kind of person who probably worked out so that, if need be, he would win if he had to chase someone down. Mary didn't bother with things like the gym. She was constantly moving. Running at a gym would just be redundant and, not to mention, time consuming.

"I'm loosening your pipe to check the trap."

"Wow, one sentence and I'm already bored."

She heard a groan and then watched Marshall push himself out from under her sink. "You could at least pretend to be grateful that I just fixed your sink."

"You fixed it?"

He stood up and turned on the tap. The water drained easily out of the sink, all clogs missing. "I fixed your sink," he said triumphantly.

"It doesn't even make that sputtering noise anymore."

"Because I fixed that too."

"I've acquired my very own handy man."

"Yeah, but I charge exorbitant prices."

"What could be worse than the $650 it cost me the last time I had to call a plumber?"

"Lunch."

"You drive a hard bargain, but I'm sure I can manage something." They walked towards the kitchen, Marshall's stomach grumbling.

"$650? Who did you ask to fix your plumbing, the Pope?"

"Nah, he probably would have done it for free."

"Still, it seems a bit steep." It also explained why she had put up with a broken bathroom for two months instead of just calling someone to come fix it. He wouldn't want to cough up $650 for a fix either, though, knowing Mary, they probably deserved the money. She wasn't exactly an easy woman to work for.

She made him a turkey sandwich and handed him a beer. She sat across from the table, eating her own food. Brandi and Jinx had left hours ago to go shopping for wedding flowers. Mary was glad to have an excuse to stay at home. She glanced at the clock and noticed that it was already two in the afternoon. Marshall had been at her sink longer than she thought. She wondered what else she could get him to fix since he was in such a giving mood.

The other part of her didn't want to ask because she was afraid that everything was already changing between Marshall and her. When she had kissed him last night it was because she hadn't really been thinking. Between how tired she was, the stress she had been under and everything else that had been going on, she had just done it and not let herself think. The reasons had been almost identical this morning. It had been a long two days and for a second, just one second, she wanted to pretend there was someone's shoulder she could metaphorically cry on.

"Why are you fixing all of my stuff?"

Marshall looked up from his food, confused. "Because you asked me to," he said slowly.

"Why have you never done it before now?"

"Because you would yell at me if I went near anything. You were pretty hell bent and determined to get the FBI to clean up the house. Believe me, it was killing me inside not to clean it."

"So this isn't because… well you know."

"Because you kissed me?" He grinned like an idiot and she rolled her eyes at him. "Nope, had nothing to do with it. If you remember, I asked you two months ago when it broke if you wanted me fix it. You said no."

She hadn't remembered, actually, but now that he mentioned it, she vaguely remembered bitching at him about shitty pipes and him offering to fix it. "Well, since you're fixing everything else-"

"You want me to fix the hum in your fridge."

"Yes! It has been driving me crazy and the electrician wanted a hundred bucks just to come out here."

He finished the last of his sandwich, popping it into his mouth. "Ok, but if I fix it, we get to go to a restaurant of my choice tonight."

"Marshall, you always choose Greek. I HATE Grecian food."

"I'll choose something different, but you have to let me pay."

"Wait, you're fixing my fridge and you're paying for dinner? What's the catch?"

"No catch," he said, standing up and walking over to her fridge. He pressed his ear against the doors, trying to hear exactly where the noise was coming from. "You just have to let me pick the place."

She eyed him suspiciously but couldn't figure out what he wasn't telling her. He opened the fridge, moving around the little food that she contained in it. "Fine," she agreed, "but if it's anything that requires more than a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, I'm not going."

"Fair enough." He turned a dial and the noise stopped.

"You knew how to fix it already, didn't you?"

"It's possible."

"Jerk."