Chapter 7: All the Reason Why (Not)

"Marshall-"

"No," he said, cutting her off. "No stalling, no changing topics. Just... Yes or no..."

"Yes."

She held her breath, bracing herself for her partner's reaction. She knew he'd be hurt, but he wasn't giving her much of a choice…

"Why?"

"Why what?" she asked, thinking she must have missed something.

"Why is my being in love with you such a horrible thing?"

"Why are you doing this?" she asked, confused. "I know it's not the answer you were hoping for, but-"

"The answer doesn't really matter. It's more about the process."

"The process? I don't understand... What-"

"It's not like I expected you to just fall into my arms," he continued, ignoring her questions, "or to suddenly declare your undying love for me."

"What did you expect, then? Why do all this?"

"I know you," he shrugged. "I know how you think, how you deal with emotional situations. You need to go through the entire process before you can deal with the real issue."

"What are you talking about?" she asked, confused again. Leave it to Marshall to make something as simple as unrequited feelings sound so complicated...

"You go through stages," he explained. "Kind of like people do when dealing with the death of a loved one."

"That's crazy..."

"No, think about it. Avoidance, denial, anger, acceptance... Any of this ringing a bell?"

"I was upset," she countered, trying to explain her earlier actions. "Anyone would have reacted in the same way."

"It was a kiss, Mare; not exactly 'end of the world as we know it' material."

"I just... Panicked... That's it... You're reading way too much into this..."

"Am I?"

Damn him! Why couldn't he just give up? Everyone else did, eventually; every last single one of them… So why couldn't he just leave well enough alone?

"Ok, so my being in love with you is horrible," he confirmed. "Tell me why. Convince me."

"I don't want to play this game, Marshall-"

"No games, I promise. But we're not leaving until you convince me."

Jesus, did the man always have to know everything about everyone? Knowing he wouldn't give up, she racked her brain, trying to come up with a good reason. "You're not my type," she blurted out, thinking it should at least buy her some time.

Her statement was met with a burst of laugher. What was so funny? It might not be the greatest of arguments, but it was still a valid one!

"You're not serious, are you?" her partner asked, trying to quell his laughter.

"Why wouldn't I be serious? It's a valid point!"

"All right," he agreed, getting himself under control. "Look… I may indulge in a bit of self-denial every once in a while, but even I couldn't have possibly missed the fact that I'm as far from 'your type' as I can get. I'm a bit too light on muscles & heavy on brain power for that..."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean? Are you implying I only go for muscle-bound morons?"

"Well, you have to admit you do tend to favor brawn over brain..."

"That doesn't mean that I'm doomed to end up with some single-digit-IQ, Hercules-wannabe himbo!"

"My point exactly," he smirked. "You're much too smart to waste your life with one of those guys. You need someone who challenges you, someone who can keep up with you."

"And that someone is you, I suppose?" she asked, not bothering to keep the sarcasm out of her voice.

"I'm not saying it has to be me; only that it could be me."

She wasn't stupid; she knew that, outside the bedroom, she had very little in common with the guys she dated. She didn't care, either. She knew going in that the relationship wasn't going to last. That was kind of the point, to be honest…

"Besides," he added, interrupting her thoughts, "if nothing else, today's events have proven that, while I may not be your type, you're still attracted to me…"

"A couple of kisses don't prove anything."

"Do you really want to argue that point," he asked, leaning in close, "because I'd be more than happy to…"

She bit her lip, trying to figure out the best way out of this. All she knew for sure was that Very Bad Things were going to happen if she let him get any closer…

"Well?" he asked, the grin on his face making it very clear he knew exactly what she was thinking.

"Fine," she capitulated. "You win. I think you're hot. I want to jump your bones. Are you happy now?"

"Not as happy as I would be if you actually would ju-"

"Oh my god… What do I have to do to make you shut up?"

"Well…" he drawled, leering at her.

"You're sick, you know that?"

"Just one of the many reasons you love me," he chirped, stepping back to a safer distance.

"You just keep telling yourself that, you jackass…"

"So… Next argument?" he quipped, looking entirely too pleased with himself.

"You really want to keep doing this?"

"Yep. One argument – which you lost – certainly didn't convince me."

"Fine… We work together."

"If that's really all that's stopping you, I'll hand Stan my letter of resignation first thing in the morning."

"What?!" she stuttered, thrown by his oh-so-very unexpected response. "But you... You love being a Marshal... You wouldn't just... quit..."

"You're right. I do love being a Marshal; it's always been a big part of who I am. But, in the end, it's still just a job," he added, shrugging. "The Marshal Service isn't the only place I can make a difference. I could be perfectly content working elsewhere."

"You really expect me to believe you'd be happy working somewhere like Peterson Consulting?" she spat out angrily, obviously not yet over the hurt & confusion she'd felt when finding that job offer on his desk.

"I thought we'd gotten over that," he sighed. "My applying to Peterson was... It wasn't about the Marshal Service. And it wasn't about leaving you. Not really…"

"What was it about, then?"

"It was more about finding out if I could leave… And maybe whether leaving would really change anything."

"Did it?"

"Yes. No. I don't know... Does it really matter?"

"It does if the only reason you stayed is because I said you couldn't leave," she replied quietly, wondering why she kept asking these questions. She was supposed to try and get herself out of this mess; not dig herself in deeper…

"I stayed because I wanted to stay. Okay?"

She studied his face, trying to figure out if he was being honest.

"I'm exactly where I want to be," he added. "Right by your side. Okay?"

"Yeah, okay."

"All right… Next argument?"

She didn't even bother arguing this time. She knew her partner well enough to know he wouldn't give up. She might as well just answer his questions…

"You're my best friend."

"And you're my best friend," he said tiredly. "We've had this conversation before…"

"I know, but-"

"A lot of people would think that's a good thing, you know. Relationships do tend to do better long-term when you can relate to the other person on a level other than horizontal."

"Yeah, but at least with my approach, nobody gets hurt."

"Only because you don't know really know anything about each other."

"It's better that way," she shrugged. "You & me... It would be a disaster. We know each other too well; we'd just end up destroying one another… Why would you want to open yourself up to that? Why would anyone?"

"Hopefully because you think it's worth the risk."

"I'm not worth it. I'm really not."

"Yes, you are," he replied quietly, sounding absolutely sure.

How could he do that? How could he trust her so completely, when she didn't even trust herself?

"What happens when it's over?" she asked on impulse, surprising even herself.

"Why would you assume it will eventually be over?" he asked, frowning.

"Nothing lasts forever. I'll do something to screw it up, to drive you away, and then I'll be left alone with a broken heart and no best friend."

"Jesus, Mare… First off, my friendship isn't dependent on what happens tonight, all right? If you really don't feel the same way about me, I will accept that. And if we do give it a try, and it ends some time down the line, well, I'll still be here."

"You say that now, but-"

"It might be difficult & awkward for a while, but you won't get rid of me just because we're not together."

"That's just not realistic. You'll leave, just like everyone else I've ever loved… "

"I won't abandon you. Ever. I promise you that."

She wanted to argue that he was wrong, that there was no way he could promise such a thing, but he just sounded so damned sure…

"Got anything else?"

"I'm a horrible girlfriend."

"You're not a horrible girlfriend."

"Yes, I am. You know I am. You've said so yourself, with Raph-"

"You're not a horrible girlfriend; you're horrible at doing girlfriend-y things. There is a difference."

"And what exactly is the difference?"

"I don't need a girlfriend to cook & clean for me, run errands for me, or do any of those typical things guys expect from their girlfriends. I can take care of myself just fine; I've been doing it for years."

"Then what do you want from me?"

"I don't want anything from you. I just want... you."

"Why?"

He looked at her questioningly.

"I treat you like my own personal errand boy," she explained. "I ignore you, make fun of you. I basically abuse you for my own personal amusement. How can you possibly love me?"

"It doesn't sound all that good when you put it that way," he agreed.

"Then why?"

"It's not any one thing-"

"But it's at least one, right?" she insisted. "Just give me one thing."

"You make me happy."

Happy? Was he insane? There was no way she made anyone happy, least of all Marshall. For god's sake, she even made herself miserable most of the time!

"Despite all the drama;" he continued, "despite the fact that you sometimes make me absolutely crazy; despite the string of hunky boyfriends you've paraded in front of me over the years; despite everything... In the end, you just… make me happy. I've never felt that way about anyone, and I'm not about to walk away without at least trying."

She kept quiet, not trusting her voice. Besides, she couldn't really think of anything to say to that…

"And it's not like it's all bad, despite what you may think. You challenge me in ways no one else can; you make me laugh, even without trying; you understand me, when no one else would; and you always have my back, no matter what the circumstances."

"But why is that love?"

"Why is it ever love?" he asked, shrugging. "All I know is I do love you."

"It's just not possible. You're not really in love with me. You're just-"

"Don't do that!" he said roughly, taking her by surprise. "You can't take this away from me, Mare. No amount of denial on your part is going to change the fact that I am in love with you. I need you to understand that. I need you to accept it..."

"There's really not much point to my giving you more reasons, is there?" she asked, knowing the answer.

"Not really."

"I'm not going to change your mind, no matter what, am I?"

"No, you're not."

"Okay," she acquiesced, giving in. She looked at her partner, understanding for the first time that he truly meant it. Despite everything he'd said in the last few hours, she'd still believed it was just hormones, just a crush that would eventually pass. But she now realized she'd just been deluding herself. Marshall was in love with her, and there was nothing she could do to change that…

"Really?" he asked, surprised.

"Yeah," she said. "I give up. You win."

"It's not about winning..."

"I know. But it still feels like I lost," she replied, shrugging.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be. You were right. I needed to work through it. But that doesn't mean I have to like it."

"So," he gently asked, "are you ready to deal with the real issue now?"

"No," she replied sullenly, knowing he was going to make her anyway. She knew she was being childish, but she was exhausted – both physically & emotionally – and it wasn't like she was all that mature even when she was in tip-top shape…

"I'll make you a deal," he offered, sensing her mood. "If you answer just one more question, I promise I'll do whatever you want. I'll let it go... I'll pretend none of this happened, if that's what you need…"

"What's the catch?"

"No catch. But you have to answer honestly. No trying to dodge the question. No hiding behind half-truths. Just tell me what you're feeling. Okay?"

She nodded in agreement.

"All right… You've gone to great pains to outline all these reasons why this could never work, why we shouldn't even consider going down that road… And I understand your fears, I really do; it's not like I haven't asked myself some of the very same questions, haven't had some of the very same doubts. But the real reason you're so afraid… You didn't really touch on that… So I have to ask, even though I'm pretty sure I know the answer already… Okay?"

"Is that the question?" she quipped.

He glared at her, obviously not amused.

"Sorry," she replied, suitably chastised. "Go ahead, ask your question."

"Are you in love with me?"