Next chapter! Also, I only have about three chapters left to this story. So enjoy it while you can because it's almost finished! As always, thanks to my beta ladymars. She's super duper helpful in fixing my mistakes.

Marshall woke up to Mary naked next to him. Already it was a good morning for him. In fact, he had a feeling that the entire day was going to be pretty fantastic. He just watched her sleeping, her back going up and down with her breath. She looked peaceful when she was asleep. Marshall couldn't stop himself. He ran his hand lightly up and down her back, softly massaging the muscles as he went. She leaned a little closer to him but didn't wake. He lifted his hand so that just his finger tips were brushing up and down her spine. A smile spread across her face and Marshall knew that she had finally woken up.

"That tickles," she murmured, still more asleep than awake.

"I didn't peg you as a ticklish person."

"Says the guy who gets ticklish if you even look at his feet."

He didn't deny the fact. Mary had discovered his ticklish feet by accident one day and hadn't let him live it down since. "What do you want for breakfast?"

She opened one eye to look at him. "You're making me breakfast?"

"I frequently make you breakfast. In fact, I just about always make you breakfast if you're at my house in the morning. I have since the first day that I met you."

"So does this mean I get the shower first too?"

"Not a chance."

"Some host you are."

"Don't pretend you care. We both know you like to sleep while I shower anyway." He got up and Mary reflexively slid into the warm spot that he had just occupied. It wasn't as warm as Marshall.

"Hey, I didn't say you could get up yet." She felt him slide back into bed, his warmth ridding her of the cold. She always thought he kept the AC up way too high.

"Too cold?"

"What's wrong with just sleeping in? It's Saturday. You're supposed to sleep in on Saturday. I'm sure it's even a law somewhere. Like my house."

"I like to get up and start the day."

"I like to sleep in. I win."

"Why do you win?"

"Because I said that I do."

They were both silent for a minute and Marshall knew that she was already starting to doze. "I can't make breakfast if I'm still in bed."

"Damn." She moved so he could get up. She fell asleep less than a minute afterwards. Marshall took his shower and went downstairs, starting breakfast. He knew the smell of food would wake her. He wasn't exactly sure how that worked but there were more than a few things about Mary that he couldn't explain. Sure enough, seconds after he had plated the first batch of pancakes, Mary came stumbling down the stairs. He just handed her a cup of coffee and placed the plate of food in front of her. When they finished, he cleaned, just like he always did.

"You cook and you clean. Maybe I should just keep you at my house so that I don't have to do anything."

"Ok."

Mary chuckled until she looked at him and realized that he was completely serious. Not only was he serious, but he was happy about it. A smile pulled at the edges of his mouth, giving him that slightly sappy but inevitably adorable smile that he seemed to have when he looked at her lately. The one she tried to ignore, telling herself that it didn't mean anything and, at the end of the day, that nothing had really changed between Marshall and her.

"Marshall, we can't live together."

"Why not?"

"Because we work together!"

"We also eat together, joke together, hang out together, watch television together and sleep together."

"You don't think that we already have a little too much togetherness? Things work between us. Why would you want to jeopardize that by moving in together?"

"Because that's what people do, Mary, they do things like date, get to know each other and move in together."

Mary stood up, angry. "I don't remember doing any of that. There was no dating process or getting to know me."

"What the hell do you call the past eight years!" He slammed his hands down on the island between them. "I don't need to get to know you; all these years have let me know you better than any human possibly could. I don't need to date you to decide that I want a relationship with you."

"Woah, when did this suddenly become a relationship?" She held her hands up, the word "relationship" scaring her. Was that really what he thought it was?

"What would you call it, Mary? I see you almost every second of everyday. I cook for you, clean for you, kiss you, hug you, and sleep with you. What else does a relationship have if not all those things?"

"I don't know!" She turned away, running her hand through her hair before setting her eyes on him again. "It has a different feel. There's more romance, more touching."

"You hate those things. Why would I do them?"

"Ok, but I still wouldn't call it a relationship."

"Give me one good reason it's not."

"There's no love, Marshall!" She screamed it at him and Marshall had to take a step back.

"You don't love me." It wasn't a question. There was so much pain written across his face, Mary had to stop herself from comforting him, from taking him into her arms, kissing him and telling him that things were going to be fine. She couldn't do that. She couldn't let him go on thinking that there was more here than there was.

"Not like that. I love you in the way I always have: as my friend, partner and one of the most important people in my life."

His hands were at his sides, balled up tightly as he was trying to control himself. "I'm good enough to hang out with, good enough to fuck but not good enough to love?" His voice was so quiet, Mary had to strain to hear him.

"You act like I'm crazy! A few months ago, you were ready to ask Sarah to marry you and now, here you are, wanting to move in with me. You don't think that's odd?" Her hands went to her hips, the annoyance once again overtaking her other emotions.

"I wasn't going to marry Sarah. I never intended to ask her."

"Then why the hell—oh, my god." She covered her face with her hands, rubbing her eyes, willing away the urge to scream. It was too early for this. "Please tell me it wasn't for me."

"When are you going to figure out that it's all for you? Everything I have to give has always been for you."

"You shouldn't love me."

"Yeah, and why not?"

"Because… because I'm not good enough for you."

"Apparently, I'm not good enough for you, either." He walked out before she could answer. It was a full five minutes before Mary realized that she had just made Marshall storm out of his own house.

Marshall just drove. He drove as far away from his house, speeding down the interstate at a pace that no one should, but he couldn't get away fast enough. It was his own fault and he knew it. After all these years of knowing her, after things finally going in the direction that he wanted them to, he screwed it up because he didn't let her come to him. He had mentioned a relationship before she had and scared her off.

Marshall finally slowed and pulled over to the side of the road, his vision blurred. He put his head on the steering wheel, trying to control his breathing. At the end of the day, he had always thought that Mary loved him. He thought that, if confronted with the idea, that she would realize that she really did care for him, especially after everything that had happened between the two of them.

He hit the wheel with his fist. Over and over and over again he hit it until his hand ached. She didn't love him. He heard her say it, the words replaying themselves in his head. She had been right in one sense. He shouldn't love her. She was completely the wrong type of woman to love but he hadn't been able to stop himself. There was something about Mary that just sucked you in and you either hated her vehemently or loved her so much it hurt.

He composed himself and started driving again. He still headed away from his house, wanting to put as much distance as he could between him and her. He didn't have to be at work until Monday and he could avoid his house even longer. Monday was still going to be awful. He would have to look at her everyday, knowing that nothing was ever going to happen. He was going to be the best friend forever.

He couldn't completely decide if it was a bad thing or not. He loved Mary, more than anything and couldn't imagine cutting her out of his life. At the same time, he didn't think he'd be able to see her every day, to look at her knowing that it was never going to happen. He had been so close and now everything was falling apart around him.

His choices were few. Either way, he was certain he wasn't going to like it.

Mary left immediately, bringing everything she had left at Marshall's house with her. She wasn't expecting to be invited back. She wasn't sure she wanted to come back. All this time Marshall had loved her and she'd never even known it. All this time and she had been oblivious to how much he actually cared.

The worst part was, she should have known. Marshall wasn't like her. He didn't really do one night stands or casual relationships. He wasn't prone to sleeping with a girl that he didn't care about on some level. She should have known from the moment that she kissed him that this wasn't just a fling for him. It was the real thing.

The more she thought about it, the more she started to notice things. How he cooked for her, fixed things once she let him, taken her on multiple dates, though she had never really realized that was what they were. She had always thought she was just hanging out with her friend. Marshall let her believe it because, when something did happen between them, Mary hadn't noticed anything out of the ordinary. He did all the things a boyfriend would do, but they were also the things that Marshall always did just because he was that kind of person.

Some friend she was. She didn't even notice when her best friend had fallen in love with her. What's more, she didn't help the situation by showing interest. She had kissed him. She had slept by his side every night. She was the one who had made the decision to sleep with him. Marshall had pushed none of those things on her. If only she had paid attention. She would have never led him on if she had known how strongly he felt. He had even told her, mentioning Sarah's insight when they broke up. His ex-girlfriend figured it out; why had she been so ignorant?

She couldn't sleep that night. Part of her was cursing herself for what she had said to Marshall. Even if she didn't love him like he wanted, she could have thought of a better way to say it to him. Part of her was indignant. How could he do something like fall for her? It was like he hadn't learned anything about her in the past eight years. She wasn't a relationship type of girl. Raph had been her longest and even that had ended, despite how hard she had tried.

However, the biggest part of her just missed Marshall. She missed having him by her side, in her home, sleeping next to her. She missed him cooking, him doing her dishes and stealing her TV remote to watch Jeopardy. She missed pretending that she hated the show. He had been a welcome presence and she missed having him there to do all the quirky things she had come to enjoy when he stayed over. She liked that when Marshall stayed over, all they did was sleep.

At least, until last night. Last night seemed like a different world to her. She wasn't fighting with Marshall, didn't know he loved her, didn't think she was in any sort of real relationship with him. Last night, it had been the best she'd ever had, not that she'd ever tell Marshall. All the usual things that could make that experience awkward weren't an issue with Marshall. He had been right; he knew her better than anyone in her life and when he had made love to her, well, it had felt exactly like that. Marshall had loved her.

She didn't know what to do anymore. Things couldn't just go back to the way they were, she knew that much. Something was going to change between her and Marshall and that scared her more than any relationship.

Marshall was there already by the time Mary pulled up on Monday. She wasn't surprised; Marshall was almost always in before her. In fact, the past month or so was the only time she seemed to be on time for work. Marshall would always drag her out of bed and made sure she was ready to go when he was. The fact that he bribed her with breakfast didn't hurt either.

Her stomach grumbled at the thought of food. She hadn't eaten that morning, not really having the time to do so. She also hadn't had time to pick up a coffee. Already she felt that it was going to be a bad day. She came in, closing the door to the office a little harder than was necessary. Marshall sat at his desk, eyes glued to the screen. He didn't even mumble a hello.

"Mary, just because you're in a bad mood doesn't mean that you need to punish the poor defenseless office building," Eleanor told her, handing her two file folders before she even had a chance to sit down.

"How do you know that it didn't insult me behind your back?"

"Because it tells me everything. I also know about you trying to break into it. It was very offended."

Mary made a face, snatching the folders out of Eleanor's hands. She sat down at her desk and there, sitting in front of her, was breakfast and a still hot cup of coffee. "Did you do this?" she asked Marshall.

He looked up from his work for the first time since she had walked in the door. "Hm? Oh, yeah. You didn't eat, did you?"

"No, but how did you know that?"

He just shrugged. "Because you only ever eat when someone else cooks it for you."

Marshall had turned back to his work but Mary looked at him, stunned. How did he manage to know something like that? He seemed to know the things she did before she did, catering to her every move. How could she have never noticed things like this?

Maybe she had just never figured out the motives behind them. Previously she thought he had just done things for her to placate her. She could be a pain in the butt and Marshall just found it easier to give her what she wanted. Now she was starting to wonder if he did things not because he felt he had to but because he genuinely wanted to. She ate her meal in stunned silence.

Marshall finally looked over at her when he hadn't heard her speak for awhile. "Are you alright?" He looked confused. He was used to Mary talking endlessly. Even when she worked, she talked to herself. It was just something you grew used to when you worked with her.

"I'm fine. Just hungry," she said, holding up the breakfast sandwich in her hand.

They worked in an unusual silence for most of the morning. Every so often, Stan would come out, giving something to Eleanor, and shoot them an odd look. Finally, after the third or so time doing this he asked, "You two aren't fighting again, are you? Can't you just figure it out like grown-ups?"

"We're not fighting, Stan," Marshall informed him.

"You're telling me Mary is being quiet all on her own?" He looked at her, raising an eyebrow.

"What? You two act like I never shut up," she commented.

"You've clearly never spent time in a room with yourself," Marshall said, Stan and Eleanor nodding their heads in agreement.

"You're over exaggerating."

"I think it's more likely you just don't realize how often you open your mouth," Eleanor said to her. Mary had no response other than to glare and go back to her work.

She knew how much she talked but usually it was because she just couldn't stand silence. Today it was exactly what she needed. The office was eerily quiet without her talking to herself as she worked or jabbering at Marshall. It gave her time to think. And to observe Marshall without him really noticing.

The more she watched him, the more she cursed her own idiocy. How could she not have known? She didn't even want to think about what had happened. Yet here he was, still acting as if they were best friends and nothing had changed.

At least until lunch.

"Where do you want to eat?" she asked him, filing some folders.

"I brought my lunch."

"Since when?"

"Since today. I just felt like it."

"Come out anyway. You can eat your lunch tomorrow when I'm more prepared."

Marshall looked up from his desk, sighing. "Mary, I'm not going out to lunch. Go by yourself or pick something up and bring it back here."

The same thing happened towards the end of the day. Most nights they had dinner unless there was something that one of them couldn't get out of. Tonight, Marshall just decided not to eat.

"You have to eat sometime," she protested.

"I will later." He took his suit jacket off the back of the chair, slinging it over his arm. "I have things to get done. Maybe later this week."

"Marshall-" but he had already walked out the door.