Many apologies for the delay! Last chapter was…hard to follow. Lol. And this one is a little shorter then most, but it seemed like a good place to end it. Sit back and enjoy, but beware of whiplash!

~SRDempsey

Fury and Flames

Chapter Seven

"Hello, Raph," he said so cordially that Mary wanted to smack him. "Come on in. The air blowing in is rather cold."

Raph's face was stone as he looked at them both, as if he'd just caught them flagrante delicto as Marshall had not 24 hours ago. Mary found that image amusing, considering she'd never…well, OK. So she'd thought about it. Once. When they were first partnered and she'd realized there was a real bad ass in that gangly dork packaging who could make a grown man squeal like a girl with just a simple hand-lock and nail a bolter in the leg at nearly 30 yards easily. She'd met Raph before that idea could fully take fruition though, and now…he was her best friend. She WOULDN'T. Just…no. Not just for sex.

Mary was no expert, but she could carry a halfway-intelligible conversation in Spanish, so she had a vague idea of what Raph was ranting on about as he slammed the door shut with force, barring them all inside Marshall's thankfully large master bath. She almost felt pity for him as he lounged back against the tub, any hopes at modesty dashed as the remaining suds disintegrated in the startlingly clear water. My, my, my MR. MANN…

"Mary, for how long?" Raph demanded, dark eyes blazing in righteous anger and snapping her back to the problem at hand.

"What are you talking about?" She honestly had no idea what he was talking about. "Jesus, Raph…"

"How long have you been fucking him?"

And Marshall closed his eyes, face unreadable, and went to his happy place.

Lucky bastard, Mary thought as that furious anger roiling anxiously under her skin surged to the surface, eyes narrowing enough that even Raph's furiously handsome face faltered slightly. He wants to do this now, HERE, with Marshall present? Fine. We'll play hard ball. He just better be fucking prepared to LOSE. "I have NOT been fucking my partner. Jesus, Raph, I'm not you who'll fuck anything that'll have me! Your therapist…hell, my own sister if she were just a little more desperate!" She held up a hand, halting whatever he was going to say in its tracks. "But no, my sister actually has a bit more brains than that. She actually gets why I keep my job under wraps now. She doesn't ask. Brandi, for Christ's sake, who still thinks broccoli and cauliflower are the same damn thing!"

"And what does that have to do with…with…" Raph gestured widely, unable to form the right words. "Why you're in the bathroom with a man who's not your fiancé? A NAKED man!"

"It's what we do," she snapped, livid, and purposefully sat on the edge of the tub close enough that she'd fall into Marshall's lap – and the water – if she scooted any closer. "It's our thing. He's my best friend! So what if he's naked? I've NEVER cheated on you and he's such a fucking boy scout he'd never even try for it!" She smacked her palm against his naked chest for emphasis.

"Ow," he whined, glowering.

"Suck it up, Cinderella," she glowered right back before focusing back to Raph who stared holes at Marshall's chest with the quiet fury vibrating through every muscle in his body. "Despite popular belief, I don't lose control and have to fuck every naked man I see! Mary is not the whore of Albuquerque!"

"I never said that!" he defended loudly, tossing his arms up in the air in exasperation. "Dios mio! Don't be putting words in the mouth! What am I supposed to think when my fiancée is in the bathroom with another man who is naked, Mary? 'Oh, it's just nothing?'"

"YES! You're supposed to trust me. You want to judge whatever it is we had by normal standards, fine, but you'll be sorely fucking disappointed after. I do not have a normal job. My situation is NOT NORMAL. I'm not what you need, Raph." She withdrew the ring from her pocket, trying not to acknowledge the kicked puppy look crossing his face as realization dawned. "I can't be what you need. We're no good for each other."

"No." He shook his head, refusing to take the ring. "No, we're great together…I love you, Mary!"

I love you. The phrase ping-ponged in her head, echoing, and she let out a dead laugh in response as the emotional weights bore down on her like anvils around her ankles, threatening to drag her into that place she'd wanted to ignore for a little while longer. "You love me? Really, Raph? Then why did you do this?" She shoved her arm down and brought Marshall's leg to the surface, a nasty expression on her face. "Why can't you leave my job alone?"

"Mary," Marshall murmured quietly, warningly.

She ignored him, letting his limb drop back into the water with a splash.

"Why couldn't you leave it be and just listen? Instead of bitching about the supposed equality of marriage and how it is SUPPOSED to be, as if there were some set-in-stone rules to marriage in the first place, why couldn't you just shut up and leave it alone? But no, you had to joke about it IN PUBLIC, compromise the security of my office, my safety, and MY FAMILY, and cost the life of an innocent man, the near death of a U.S. Marshal, and…" She stared daggers at Marshall's legs, appalled and furious as she felt that swell of emotions that meant tears were right behind it. And my best friend's life. I could've lost him, easily, if he weren't such a boy scout and a survivor. I nearly lost him…TWICE! In 24 hours. Once to the fire and once to a sniper's bullet if he hadn't been such a girl and fainted.

"Mary." Marshall's voice dragged her from her own mind, patting her jean-clad thigh lightly. "Let it go. I'm fine. Cassie will be fine. It's just like it was with Lola. We'll be fine."

She did not look at Raph as the emotions spiraled up and up as she cried, peaking as she considered all that she could've lost because of her own judgment call; did not punch Marshall when he shifted so one of his arms could wrap around her in an awkward sideways hug. Did not stop Raph as he backed out of the doorway, his face a mask of conflicting emotions as he tried to swallow all that she'd said, and cried harder as Marshall gave up trying for modesty and pulled her into the water, cradled across his lap, and let her cry it all into his shoulder while he stroked her arms up and down in soothing motions while murmuring constantly in her ear.

"We're fine, Mare. We'll be OK. We're fine…"

Thankful did not begin to describe Marshall's feelings when he and Mary finally emerged from his bathroom, her soaking wet and wrapped in his towel while he…well…was not. It was only his siblings, anyway, who weren't even pretending not to have been eavesdropping. At least they're honest snoops. Jared's eyebrow arched at his state of non-dress before he simply turned on his heel and walked out of the room while Rachel held up clothes he was fairly certain she'd dug out of Mary's bag, her face oddly serious. She helped dry her off while he nearly dived into his walk-in closet for clothes – finally! – and re-emerged in his moo pajamas and a t-shirt to find Rachel gone and Mary lying curled up on her side on his bed in the fetal position.

He hated seeing her like this. Marshall was selfishly glad Raph was not here, his brother confirming it for him when he stepped out of the room long enough to grab her some chocolate and extra pillows from the linen closet in the hallway. It just went without saying that she would be sleeping with him in his room tonight. Mary didn't move an inch, tears silently falling and she stared vacantly ahead, lost in the horror of what could've easily been but wasn't.

He couldn't stop it, unfortunately. He knew that. It was a part of healing, in a way. It was best to let it run its course while it could instead of hitting her at a random and inconvenient time later on. Marshall had done the same we she was finally in the clear after her close-call shooting a few months ago, crying to himself for almost 24 hours in his room once the fear had been replaced by relief and the walls he'd placed up around his emotions came tumbling down under the full weight of that bone-deep terror of losing her.

2 hours. 2 painfully long, arduous hours until she finally spoke and it just had to be about that.

"You know, you could poke an eye out with that thing."

Marshall had to blink a moment before he realized she spoke, and then another few moments before he realized what she was referring to. "If you can joke about that then you seem like you're OK now." Self-consciously, he crossed his legs, mentally wondering just how long she was going to get hung up on this particular facet of his anatomy…pun intended. "If someone is low enough to get an eye poked out by it then that would put a wrench in things," he mused dryly. "Only one reason someone would be eye level there."

"Mood killer," she giggled and she never giggled. Marshall glanced at her face again, concerned.

"Mare…"

"I thought we could work." Her voice was pitiful, child-like, and distraught. "I tried. I really tried, damn it."

"I know." He scooted close, half pulling her upper body against his chest, and wrapped his arms around her while she snuggled close, left arm thrown lazily over his lap. "I know. You tried your hardest but it wasn't enough for him." He kissed the top of her head, fingers toying idly with her mess of hair that had dried awkwardly. "You did everything you could."

"Maybe it's just not possible for me." Resigned. Somewhat sad. "That happy ending women chatter about. I thought maybe I could get it with Raph after a while – he's a good guy and loved me – but…"

"Your happy ending is steel iron gates instead of a white picket fence and guard dogs instead of flowers," he chuckled. "Everyone has a different version of what makes their 'happy ending', Mare…he just didn't want to see anything but the vision he'd already made."

She considered this, her hand fisting in his shirt every so often. "Then what's yours, Marshall? What's your happy ending?"

A sprawling ranch with five horses and lots of land, overlooking the city with you in the background shooting tin cans off the fence with your Glock for practice, he thought, but dared not say that out loud. Two children…maybe three…and several ranch dogs running circles at my feet. It was a picture he held close to his heart for several reasons, only part of it being because that had been his childhood. The dogs and his siblings, running full speed across the yard with the horses nickering in the stables at the noise, disturbed from their peaceful naps. The big family gatherings in the yard with his various distant relatives…cousins and aunts and uncles of all flavors who all thought he was a little too strange. Playing in the thick canopy of cottonwood trees at the north edge of their property, climbing the trees and having mock gun fights that changed to fights with paintball guns when they got older. Shrieking like a girl when his father first took him to the gun range and showed him how to shoot a gun. Hanging upside down off one of the thick branches of the cottonwood tree that grew right outside his old room window.

Marshall did not tell her these memories or his happy ending. He couldn't even say if she was in that picture as a wife or just as his partner…couldn't really care, so long as she was there. She would always be Mary – headstrong, always coming out on top, and just…there. A permanent fixture in his life he would love, regardless, until his final breath and beyond if there was any life after death. He liked to think so. That all those feelings and that love didn't just…vanish like a candle blown out.

"My happy ending…" he settled for telling her because there was no way she would let him get away with NOT telling her anything, "is horses. The whole cowboy image. And pie. Gotta have pie. Maybe a pie factory…"

Mary froze, that 'what the hell' expression on her face, and he grinned widely, relieved when she slowly grinned too, reaching over and braining him with his own pillow. "I'm being serious, doofus!"

"So am I!" Marshall laughed as she hit him again, and it disintegrated to an all out pillow fight that, somehow, his siblings ended up getting into as well. He wasn't sure when that had happened, exactly, but they did all end up lying sprawled out on the living room floor, chuckling like children.

"You know, you never introduced us," Mary pointed out needlessly, considering her head was resting on his stomach and one of her legs was thrown over his sister's waist. Turning to grin at them, she extended her hand, laughter twinkling in her eyes. "Hi. I'm Mary Shannon, this doofus' partner."

"Rachel Mann, his younger sister." When their brother said nothing, Rachel swung her arm out and smacked him resoundingly across the stomach enough to make him wince. "Manners, Jared!"

"Jared Mann, the eldest," he rumbled, glaring at his sister half-heartedly. "We've heard lots about you from Stringbean here."

I'm glad she's back to normal, Marshall thought, tuning out the in-depth discussion the three of them dived into about what exactly they'd been told about her. But why me?

"We couldn't wait to meet the woman who once managed to shoot our brother in the ass," Rachel chirped, giggling.

"Rach!"

Jared snickered. Mary nearly split her side open, remembering.

Why the hell me?

A/N: No, Raph is not gone permanently, but he's out of the equation for the moment. He was just taking up space in Marshall's house and I just couldn't think of anything to keep him there. But he will return. Grudgingly, on my part, because he and Mary still have some unresolved things to settle. But LATER. For now, it's just Mary and the Mann trio.

So…like? Dislike? Hopefully the pace of this story isn't too bad, or the…feel of it, for lack of a better term. Let me know! Go click the button!