***Hang on to your hats, boys and girls, it's gonna get messy! The show we've all been waiting for :) ***

***Thanks to my fellow fight choreographers: RJ, Roar and DV! ***

"Revenge is a kind of wild justice."

– Frances Bacon, Sr

The trouble he causes recoils on himself; his violence comes down on his own head.

– Psalm 7: 15-17

Faber whistled an almost remembered tune as he exited the Sunshine Building into its nearly blinding namesake. Fishing his D&G's out of his pocket, he positioned them jauntily on his face with a toss of his head, smiling rakishly at a pair of younger office girls entering the front doors from lunch. One of them appreciated him with her eyes, and Mike preened even more. Maybe two days in Albuquerque ought not be dismissed so quickly. The local fauna could prove interesting.

He was feeling particularly self satisfied and victorious. Not only had he gotten himself out of a potentially messy situation with the marshals, but he had managed to bring Mary down yet another notch and render Marshall nearly impotent. The man couldn't actually think he could run in the same race, could he? Keep up with me? Faber chuckled as his feet tapped along the sidewalk along the front of the building towards the visitor's parking spots. It was almost too easy to leave the two of them looking like subservient fools.

He didn't notice that the black SUV backed into the space which blocked his car from view was USMS issued. Rounding the tailgate, Faber slowed to a halt at the sight before him.

Marshall leaned back against the driver's side door of Faber's car as if he had all day and every reason to be there. Casually eating sunflower seeds out of a small bag, he leisurely manipulated the morsel in his mouth before expertly spitting the wet, empty shell onto the hood of the agent's car. The activity had been going on for at least a few minutes, as a small scattering of drying shells decorated the smooth finish of the sports car; two stuck to the windshield itself. Aviator shades firmly in place, Marshall stared across the parking lot as if the afternoon traffic held the answers to the universe. Focused.

Faber felt the warmth of anger infuse his neck as he assessed the man against the car. A blatant display of territorial challenge, Mike wondered why Marshall just didn't pee all over the leather and be done with it. He couldn't believe he was going to have to deal with this shit now. In public. Glancing about, he assured himself there was no one in view of the cars as he stretched his neck and shrugged his shoulders.

'Suffer fools gladly' my ass, Mike thought as he began a cautious approach.

"It's nice isn't it?" Faber said, knowing Marshall was aware of his presence even though the taller man didn't look at him. He ran his hand over the trunk as he popped it open. He wasn't going to leave the sidewalk yet, and was glad he backed into the space. There was another car adjacent to the passenger side, it and the SUV hemming in the low slung sports coupe as if it was a hot dog on a too large bun. The space was slightly claustrophobic and Mike continued to talk as he weighed his options. "A 2008 BMW Z4 with 3.0 L I6 and 255 hp engine. I've had it up to 150 on the open road." Marshall's bag of seeds rustled as the man continued to eat.

Placing his briefcase in the trunk, Faber then stood near the tail light and grinned at the marshal. "It's pathetic, really," he said with a 'tsk', "that you even envy my rides outside of the bedroom."

Marshall could see the agent's reflection in the window of the SUV in front of him, the man standing nonchalantly behind the sports car…apparently unperturbed. Marshall watched Faber mentally calculate the proximity of the cars adjacent to his own, noted the agent check his natural tendency to step down off the curb to approach the driver's side door. Small tells of wariness. A corner of his mouth lifted into a tight curl of a smile as he placed the next seed into his mouth. Step into my parlor…

He waited until a low-slung pickup with booming bass slid through the intersection before engaging in the game. "I see you're still wearing out the coattails of dear 'ole Dad's good graces." Another shell landed on the hood. "At least one of you has good taste."

Faber grimaced and raised his face to the sky for a moment with a deep breath as he shoved his hands into his pant's pockets. "Well, more than I can say for you, sadly." He slowly stepped down onto the asphalt and leaned one hip against the back of the car. "Although I guess I'm not surprised you'd be satisfied with sloppy seconds."

Marshall crushed the seed in his mouth, shell and all, anger flaring at Faber's base insult. Wait for it, he warned himself. Not yet. Forcing a wry chuckle, Marshall tilted his head to glance at the agent. "You know what's sloppy, Mike? Hanging your laundry out to dry for everyone to see without first checking the underwear for stains."

Faber barked a quick laugh and slowly shook his head, his stance relaxing slightly. "This is about a few pictures on my phone? Seriously, Marshall, what bothers you the most? The fact that she took me to Mexico instead of you? Or that I have proof?" He pulled one hand out of his pocket to study his manicure. "Because if you're worried about Mary's honor, I can assure you that flower hasn't had any petals for a while."

Marshall's patience dwindled to a point as his gut began to burn with fury. It was time to end this farce and send the agent crawling back to Denver with his tail between his legs. He slowly rolled the bag of seeds closed and placed them back into his jacket pocket. Faber watched, eyes tightening with apprehension as Marshall turned slowly towards him. The marshal's eyes were hidden behind his glasses, but the set of his jaw displayed his raw emotion.

"What other pictures do you have, Faber?" Marshall asked. Faber squinted in confusion. "Pictures of hotel rooms and dirty sheets? Maids?" Confusion morphed into shock, just for an instant, then Faber's sneer was back in place.

"I knew she told you something," Mike drawled, eyeing Marshall carefully.

Marshall decreased the distance between them by a short stride and watched Faber adjust his stance accordingly. "The acoustics in a locker room are especially favorable for those standing in an empty hallway."

Faber felt a thin trickle of sweat meander down the center of his back as he mentally replayed the conversation with Mary that morning. If Marshall had heard about the maid…

The agent's face displayed his growing discomfort, his small purposeless movements hinting at a building anxiety. Marshall popped the one last seed he held in his hand into his mouth.

"You're not just a leach, Faber," Marshall growled, words dripping disgust. "You're a remora that hangs off the nearest kissable ass. A shriveled up coward that gets off on children and can't even satisfy a real woman." Marshall huffed a disgusted snort, shaking his head in dismissal. "All you got is your temper and your fists…nothing more than a petulant, spoiled child." He punctuated his statement by cleanly spitting the final seed onto Faber's chest.

Faber had barely reached towards Marshall when the other man's hand grabbed his wrist with lightning speed. Lurching forward with the momentum of Marshall's move, Faber only had time to grunt in pain as his wrist was manipulated towards his forearm while he was spun to face the car; arm pushed up behind his back in a painful manner he was only too familiar with. He knew what would come next and tensed to make the countermove.

Marshall moved fluidly, no hesitation during the snatch or the twist, and as he wrenched Faber's arm was up towards his shoulder blades and used his momentum to turn him towards the car, he felt the agent shift his stance. Using his own leg to destabilize the back of one of Faber's knees, Marshall swiftly bore his weight onto Faber's back, reached his other hand to palm the back of the agent's head, and slammed the man's face into the gleaming, silver surface of the luxury automobile. A quick shift of his shoulders, and Marshall uttered a satisfying grunt as the sickening sound of joint dislocation reached his ears. Faber yelled weakly into the metal as Marshall leaned down to offer advice, repositioning his grip.

"Didn't you see that coming, Mike? Did I catch you off guard? Maybe you need a mirror to check all the angles?" Faber groaned slightly as Marshall pulled his head upwards, the agent's free hand scrabbling to grab the windshield wiper.

Continuing to lean into Faber, Marshall swept one ankle out swiftly to catch Faber's leg and pull it towards him. The agent toppled quickly, succumbing to both gravity and pain, and as he was pushed towards the ground, Marshall guided the side of his head into the side mirror. Faber rebounded slightly from the blow, and Marshall released him to watch him fall heavily to the asphalt, half supported by the car door as the man actually whimpered and rocked on his knees.

Not quite satisfied, Marshall shoved the agent completely over with one boot to a thigh and squatted next to the now prone, profusely bleeding man. Careful to avoid dirt or blood, Marshall pulled aside Faber's jacket to unhook his phone from his belt. He released the SIM card, tucking the small piece of plastic into his own pocket, and tucked the cell back under Mike's writhing form.

"Those do not belong to you, little boy," Marshall hissed. Grinding the agent's cheek into the tar as he used his head for leverage, Marshall pushed back to standing, slightly amused by the sound of teeth scraping asphalt.

Faber grabbed for Marshall's ankle and the taller man lazily kicked the hand aside as he stepped over the crumpled figure. Turning to look at the agent on the ground once he reached the sidewalk, Marshall sighed heavily with the sight. It had almost been too easy. He looked up to peer at the blue sky, the long hours of sunshine finally easing the chill of the previous week and clearing the cobwebs from his brain. A good day.

"I wonder what Mary wants me to bring home for dinner tonight?" Marshall mused aloud, discounting the grunt from the direction of the pavement in front of him. "Hmm…she's been talking about Chinese…" he turned to saunter back towards the doors of the Sunshine Building.

***Yeehaw! The cowboy wins :) God, that felt GOOD! Well...are you satisfied? Let me know...please REVIEW! Hmmm...I wonder if Mary will find out? ***