Posting a little later than usual today, but sometimes life just gets in the way.

Ch. 5: Waking Up is Hard to do

Mary stretched and rolled onto her stomach, gripping the pillow tighter as she did so. She sighed in contentment and was just about to let sleep wash over her again when she woke with a start. The first thing she noticed was the familiar white of motel sheets, followed by the unfamiliar bed and the fact that she was still fully dressed.

'What the fuck?' she thought as she pulled herself up onto her elbows, 'What am I doing in a motel?'

Pulling the covers back, she sat up and looked around. That was when she saw him sleeping in the other bed.

Marshall.

She could only see his left shoulder and the upper part of his arm that was holding the pillow over his head as he lay on his stomach, but it was unmistakably Marshall. The last thing she remembered was arguing with him at the office, but after that, nothing. What did come flooding back, though, were the memories of the day before and with them, all the anger.

She leapt out of bed and lunged at him, pushing and cursing.

"Wake the fuck up, asshole! Who the hell do you think you are?"

Marshall pulled his head out from under the pillow, his hair pointed out in every direction and even Mary would have taken a moment to appreciate how cute he looked if she wasn't so mad. Instead, she shoved him again.

"On second thought, dickwad, why don't you start by telling me why I'm in this freakin' motel?"

He looked up at her, a curious expression on his face, as if he had no idea what she was talking about and it pissed her off even more. She lunged again, but this time he was prepared. He reached up and grabbed her by the wrists, catching her off guard and pulling her off balance. She tried to break his hold, but only ended up falling across his lap, still restrained.

Glaring green eyes met steel blue ones and they squared off, each assessing, waiting for the other to make a move. Mary knew she was in no condition to take on Marshall, especially considering he already had the upper hand. But, there was no way in hell she was just going to concede, either, and she decided to rely on skills other than strength to overcome her captor.

He watched warily as the anger was replaced by a mischievous gleam in her eye, one with which he was all too familiar.

"I don't know what you're cooking up in that pretty little head of yours," he drawled, eyes locked on hers, "but I would think carefully if I were you."

"And why is that?" she asked in a soft, alluring tone that elicited a crooked smile from her partner. Then, she shifted in his lap to regain her balance and settled back down, straddling him, eyes dancing with victory as she saw him swallow hard.

Marshall had to stifle the groan in the back of his throat as Mary positioned herself on top of him. He could see the look of satisfaction on her face and he thought with a grin, 'Two can play at this game.'

"Because you never know, Mare, when the tables may turn." With that comment and quick jerk of his hips, he flipped her onto her back and pinned her arms to the mattress. He saw the surprise register on Mary's face and he smirked as he leaned down to whisper in her ear, "and you'll have to decide if you want to finish what you started."

She hadn't been expecting such a response from Marshall, but what shocked Mary more was her body's reaction to his. His voice was low, almost a growl and the suggestion in his words, undeniable, causing her temperature to rise. At the same time, the warmth of his breath in her ear sent a shiver down her spine that culminated in an aching desire, her body arching in response.

Marshall's body reacted in kind as he gazed down at her. Their faces mere inches apart and his control wavered as Mary tilted her head back slightly and parted her lips. But when he felt her pelvis push up against his, he lost all ability for coherent thought.

She felt a small pang of discomfort from her still recovering abdominal muscles and it brought her back to the present. Sobering, she realized she could use her injuries to her advantage and purposely winced as she came to her senses and tried to free her hands once again.

Despite his current state of arousal, the change in her expression did not escape her partner's notice and he shifted quickly to remove his weight from her.

"Oh God, Mare, are you okay?" he asked with worry as he sat up, easing his grip on her wrists. "I didn't hurt you, did I?"

As soon as she was able to move her arms, she pulled them free from his hands and pushed him as hard as she could, sending him off the edge of the bed. He stumbled back, but thanks to his quick reflexes he was able to recover without falling on his ass.

Mary rubbed her sore abdomen, as the many fights turned make up sex with Raph flashed through her lust addled brain. Hell, the first time she'd met him had almost resulted in bar fight, but had ended in the bedroom. For Mary, anger becoming arousal was not something new when she was attracted to someone.

'But this is Marshall,' she thought as she met the deep blue eyes of her partner. 'Marshall.' Her thoughts wandered to all the times they fought and she couldn't help but wonder if this had been there, just under the surface, the entire time.

"What the hell was that for?" Marshall barked, not at all amused by Mary's scheming.

"To get you off me, jackass!" she spat, getting up and in his face. "Now are you going to tell me where we are or have you decided to switch teams and are starting with kidnapping?"

He looked at her as she spoke and took a step back, wondering how it was possible that she could run so hot and cold. Remembering his own part in the nastiness of the day before, he realized she was not entirely at fault. Frustrated with the entire situation he turned away and mumbled, "I should have left you passed out on the floor."

"What did you say?" she asked, tilting her head as she glared at him.

"Does it matter what I said, Mary?" he answered, his irritation evident as he grabbed his pants and pulled them on. "You do what the hell you want, when you want. Consequences be damned." He slid into his shirt and picked up his jacket, pulling a sheet of folded paper from the pocket, he let it fall onto the bed near Mary, as he stalked out the door into the morning sunshine.

She stared blankly at the closed door for a second, wondering how things had gotten so horrifically out of control between them in only twenty-four hours. Then she scooped up the paper and unfolded it as she sat back down on the bed.

***

Marshall stood outside the door to the motel room with coffees and donuts in hand and took a deep breath before taking out his keycard. He'd left almost an hour ago and just walked, wishing that he'd been more prepared for the trip and had brought his running gear with him.

This morning's encounter with Mary had been playing in a constant loop in his head and he still felt the tension in his neck, even after the long walk and fresh air. He berated himself for thinking that he was being clever when in reality, he had let Mary suck him right into her little game this morning. And that's what he'd spent the last hour concentrating on, the fact that it was just a game and he, of all people, knew how good Mary was at playing games.

It didn't matter what he saw in her eyes or the heat he felt her body radiate when she moved underneath him because none of it was real. Actually, that wasn't true. She'd stripped him of his ability to think clearly, which allowed for his body to react. And damn, had he reacted. He'd spent the past couple of weeks trying to keep his body in check around Mary just to lose control now and have it all go to hell.

As he stared at the number on the door, he doubted that he had allowed enough time for Mary to cool down, but if they were going to continue on their way, they would need to get going. There was still a long drive ahead. If not, he preferred to get home sooner rather than later in order to put this whole mess behind him, although he had his doubts as to whether that was even possible.

Having had decided not walk into the impending onslaught unarmed, he'd stopped in a nearby donut shop on his way back, picking up her favorites as usual. The only thing left to do was to swipe the key and open the door.

She glanced over as he entered the room, coffees one hand and his key in the other while a bag dangled from between his teeth. The eye contact may have been brief, but it was enough for him to see the struggle behind them. As he moved to place the items on the table, he noted that she was sitting on the bed where he'd dropped the print out, which she now held tightly in her hand. He doubted she'd let it out of her grasp since his departure.

"You're taking me there, aren't you?" she asked softly, eyes still on the paper.

He studied her closely, trying to discern her state of mind. A screaming, cursing, even physically abusive Mary, he knew how to deal with. A quiet, introspective one, however, was a whole different ballgame and he knew he needed to tread lightly. He had no desire for a repeat of the day before, but one step in the wrong direction and things could get nasty pretty quickly.

She knew he was watching her and not receiving an answer, she tilted her chin and met his gaze. The concern she saw in the intense blue eyes shouldn't have surprised her, but it did and as he nodded yes in response to her question, she could feel the tears building. Cursing her emotions, she put the paper down and stood up as she rubbed her hands over face, wiping the moisture away.

Grabbing her overnight bag from the top of the dresser, she headed toward the bathroom.

"I'm going to get cleaned up," she said, pausing before the bathroom door.

"No complaints if the coffee's cold," Marshall joked and was rewarded with a half smile before she disappeared.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Marshall sat down and picked up his coffee. He was thankful that any further arguments had been avoided and hoped that they were on course to getting back to normal.

'Yeah, like there's ever been anything normal about the two of you,' he chuckled to himself, pulling the donuts out of the bag and placing Mary's favorite on a napkin next to her coffee. He pulled out the complimentary newspaper that he'd grabbed from the motel lobby and scanned the morning's headlines as he slowly sipped his coffee, glancing every so often at the bathroom door.

Checking his watch, he knew that fifteen minutes was not an unreasonable amount of time to have passed, but even when they weren't at there best, his concern for his partner never wavered. Hearing the click of the bathroom door several minutes later, he instinctively looked up from the paper and was met by the seriousness in her expression. Knowing it was not a time to push, he let his eyes fall back down to the words on the pages in front of him.

Mary exited the bathroom and dropped her bag on the bed as she made her way over to the table to join Marshall. When she sat down, she was not surprised to find her favorite donut sitting next to her coffee, but it did cause her to take pause. Marshall was always there for her with exactly what she needed, often before she even knew what she needed, and she could no longer ignore that.

She was still confused and angry about the way he had behaved toward her the day before, but she also knew that she had just reacted as she always did and not taken the time to try and figure out what was really going on. But that was her; react first and think later. She had simply pushed back in an effort to push him away first and now she couldn't believe she had actually been stupid enough to think that he would leave. The paper lying on the bed was only the latest example of what he'd do for her.

'Jesus, Mary, what's it gonna take for you to finally believe he's not going anywhere?'

The crinkle of the newspaper as he folded it up pulled her out of her reverie and she realized he was watching her. Picking up her coffee, she tilted it toward him in gratitude before taking a sip. Considering they were in the middle of nowhere, she hadn't been expecting much from the dark, caffeinated liquid, but it's less than stellar flavor was only intensified by its lukewarm state and she couldn't help but grimace when she pulled the cup away.

"How's the coffee?" Marshall asked with a snicker.

The tone in his voice did not go undetected and she shot him a glare for good measure, but made no argument to the contrary. Instead, she reached for her donut and took a large bite as she watched him try to hide the smile on his lips. Not being able to conceal it, he picked up his own donut and joined her.

They sat in companionable silence as they finished breakfast. It wasn't until Marshall moved to clean up that Mary put her hand on his arm to stop him. Looking up at him, she spoke.

"What happened last night?"

"What's the last thing you remember?" he asked as he sat back down, wondering just how much she didn't remember and if there was reason to be concerned.

"I remember reaching for my gun when a certain moron mistakenly tried to sneak up on me," she recalled, her voice laden with sarcasm.

Her answer was enough to put to rest his fears of any serious health complications since she obviously remembered everything up until right before she lost consciousness. While that saved him the trouble of having to explain, it also meant that she was fully aware of all that had occurred yesterday and at some point, they would have to talk about it. He just hoped it wouldn't be now.

"I believe that lead to some discussion about said gun and the fact that you were armed and in the office while on medical leave." Marshall played off of her sarcasm and tried to fall back into the banter, but he knew the issues they needed to discuss were serious and he hoped she was aware that.

"Blah. Blah. B.S. B.S. What else you got?"

"Let's see," Marshall said, suddenly feeling very tense. He stood up and threw away the garbage from breakfast before turning back to Mary. He was not at all happy about her making light of her medical condition, so he took a deep breath to steady himself before continuing. "There's the fact that you fainted because you haven't been following the doctor's orders or taking care of yourself."

"I didn't faint!" she insisted.

"Oh, really? Okay then, passed out. Lost consciousness. Blacked out. Collapsed. Languished. Pick whatever word you prefer, Mary. I was there. I was the one that caught you and the reason that we don't have to add concussion to the list." Marshall hadn't realized that he was now towering over Mary as she sat looking up at him from her seat at the table, her expression unreadable.

He took a step back and ran his hand through his hair in frustration. This was not how he'd wanted this to go. It was just so frustrating to him that she could be so careless with her own health. Didn't she know that he…that people needed her?

"Why didn't you come to me?" he asked, turning to her, a myriad of emotion present in his brilliant, blue eyes as they searched hers for answers. "I'm your partner and your best friend. If I haven't proven my loyalty to you by now, Mare, then I honestly don't know what else I need to do." Breaking their gaze, he began to move about the room gathering his things. "All you needed to do was talk to me."

"The way you talked to me yesterday?" she spat, not knowing any other way of dealing with all the thoughts and emotions that were battling it out inside her. The man stalking around the room infuriated her at times. Everything he said was true, but she knew she wasn't the only one that didn't speak up.

Marshall froze and looked at her incredulously.

"That's right," she continued. "I haven't forgotten about yesterday, so don't you get all high and mighty with me after you spent the day acting like such an asshole without a goddamn word as to why."

"Well, maybe if you had talked to me in the first place, I wouldn't have had to hear from Jinx that you're not taking care yourself," Marshall said, coming to his own defense. "Or how you sneak out of the house and drive off in the middle of the night when you're not even supposed to be driving."

"You had my mother spying on me?" Mary couldn't believe what she was hearing and never thought that she would have to deal with something like that from Marshall.

"No," he stated calmly, knowing if he didn't diffuse the situation, it would get ugly. "I would never do that. Your mother came to me because she was worried. And it's not like I hadn't noticed that something was off. So don't try to turn this on me when the fact is you are hiding something from me. Yes, I let my imagination get the best of me and made an assumption I shouldn't have; an assumption that made me angry. And for that, I'm sorry.

But you know, as well as I do, Mary, that you had no intention of letting me in on your plans. Jesus Christ, do realize all the things that could have happened during your little outing last night? Forget about all the trouble you could have gotten into to. Have you even thought about what could've happened if you had passed out in the office alone?"

She opened her mouth to speak, but stopped, not knowing what to say. All she ever did was react and lash out, she didn't want to do that this time. Most, if not all, of what Marshall had said to her was the truth and he even admitted to being sorry.

'Sorry for what?' she thought, 'What assumption had he made that caused him to get so angry?' Lost in contemplation, she hadn't heard Marshall calling her. Finally snapping out of it, she looked over to see him standing by the door.

"What?"

"I said that I'll meet you in the truck." They locked eyes momentarily; Marshall puzzled over where Mary's thoughts had drifted that she didn't hear him. Mary broke the gaze first, afraid to reveal too much. Then he added, "I'll let you decide which direction we head in."

Picking up the print out from the bed, she nodded in response. She wasn't sure if she was prepared for what she would find, but she knew there was no way she could go home until she had some answers.

"Marshall," she called out to catch him before he shut the door.

He stopped and peered back into the room, eyebrows raised questioningly.

"What assumption did you make?" she asked, looking over at him.

He hesitated and swallowed, then taking a deep breath he answered. "I thought you were sneaking out to meet Raphael."

So do you think Marshall realizes what he just admitted, or more importantly, does Mary? And just where are they headed to anyway?