Premiere day! We made it! My apologies for no update yesteday, these things happen in life. There is only one chapter to go, so if all the stars align, there is the possibility I can get it up before the show airs. If not, tomorrow. Thanks again to Bujyo and sfchemist for all the support. Not beta-ed for grammar, so give a girl a break if I missed anything. Enjoy!

Ch. 8: Father Doesn't Always Know Best

"What time is it?"

"About ten minutes later than the last time you asked," Marshall drawled. "There's plenty of time, we're not going to be late."

"I didn't say we were going to be late," Mary snapped back.

Marshall glanced over at the passenger seat to see Mary sitting stiffly with her arms folded across her chest. She was tense and it was understandable considering she was on her way to the house her father had lived in all these years, raised three other children in. As he returned his eyes to the road, his thoughts drifted to the night before and he couldn't help but smile.

Mary's suggestion for the evening had turned out to be exactly what they both needed; an escape from the latest Shannon family drama and a way for them to reconnect. It had been just like any other night they had spent on the road with pizza, beer and bad pay per view minus the fact that they didn't have to be concerned about a witness in the next room. It allowed Mary to relax and he followed suit.

Things were far from perfect, that he knew. The past few days had been filled with hurt and anger followed by truths and confessions, which had all definitely taken their toll. It would take time and today would help him gauge just how much time. Last night, though…last night restored his faith that in the end, they'd be able to make it through this, just like they had everything else. And just maybe, they'd emerge even stronger than before.

She tapped her foot nervously on the floorboard of the SUV and stared blankly out the windshield. The last thing she wanted to do was to snap at Marshall, but she was wound tight and she was fairly certain he would understand. Not even on their most dangerous assignments had she felt like this and she needed a way to calm down. Her facial features softened a bit as she focused on Marshall, instead of the impending meeting, and she was glad he was there with her. In fact, the idea of him not being there was something she never wanted to think about again.

The thought startled her and she shifted in her seat. Over the course of the last few days, she had been forced to face more than one hard truth, including her feelings for Marshall and his for her. One would think it would be simple from that point, but it seemed anything but as far as Mary was concerned. Not only did she need to find the nerve to admit her feelings out loud; she also needed to summon the courage to accept that someone truly loved her, for her.

There was only one other time in Mary's life that she had felt so completely loved and that was when she had been with her father. Thinking about it now, her heart ached at the possibility that her father hadn't loved her as much as she thought and the idea that she was about to meet the family he'd spent a lifetime with in comparison to her was overwhelming.

"Marshall," Mary gasped, leaning forward to put her hands on the dash to steady her.

"What's wrong?" Marshall said, alarmed by Mary's behavior. "Mare?"

She was trying to regulate her breathing and just shook her head at him.

He pulled the car to the curb and threw it into park. Jumping out, he ran around and opened her door. She was hyperventilating and he didn't want to start asking her questions she couldn't answer. Instead, he placed one hand on her arm and the rubbed her back with the other.

"I'm going to ask you a few questions and I just want you to nod your head yes or no, okay?"

Mary nodded yes.

"Are you getting any oxygen?"

Again, she nodded.

"Do you lungs feel tight?"

Another nod.

"Is it getting any better?"

She shook her no.

"Worse?"

A shake no.

"Listen to me, Mary," Marshall said, trying to soothe her. "I just want you to listen to the sound of my voice. Don't think about anything else, but my voice and breathe. Just keep breathing." Marshall continued to reassure her for another minute or so and she slowly showed signs of improvement.

Mary finally drew her arms back from the dash and sat back in the seat with her eyes closed. Nothing like that had ever happened to her before and losing control was something that did not sit well with her.

"How you doing?" Marshall said after giving her a few moments. "Better?"

Not ready to talk yet, she simply nodded.

***

It was a typical Californian, suburban neighborhood. Similar houses lined the block, all well kept and Mary couldn't imagine what it was like to grow up in such a place. For her, it was a place that only existed in those 1980s teen flicks, the house where the good girl lived or the cool kids partied.

"Are you sure you're feeling okay?" Marshall asked her one last time. Her panic attack had taken him by surprise and he'd been concerned ever since. He considered telling her that she didn't have to go through with it or that they could postpone the meeting until another day, but the sideways glare she shot him said it all. "Just promise me you'll tell me if don't feel well."

Her gaze was drawn once again to the house and she made no reply.

"Mary," he said sternly, "promise me."

"Fine…yes, sir," she returned sarcastically. "I promise."

Climbing out of the truck, they made their way up the path. They'd only gotten a few feet when Lauren appeared in the doorway, then made her way out to greet them.

"Did you find a decent place to stay last night?" Lauren asked, making light conversation.

"Yeah, the uh...what the hell was it?" Mary asked, turning to Marshall.

"The Best Western," he replied, shaking his head. For all the details Mary could remember, the things she did forget often amazed him.

Turning her attention back to Lauren, she asked, "What did you tell them? I mean, about who we are?"

"Not much, just that I met you on one of my trips to New York a few years ago. You called to say you were in California for a few days and wanted me to meet your boyfriend. And since I was going to be at the house, I figured I'd just meet you here."

"Well, lucky me," Marshall cooed with a stupid grin as he snaked his arm around Mary's shoulders in response to being called boyfriend.

"Can it, numb nuts," Mary scolded as she pushed his arm off her and swatted him in the stomach with the back of her other hand. Marshall feigned being hurt and Lauren watched the entire exchange curiously.

"Let's do this then," Mary stated, nodding toward the house.

They followed Lauren into the house, Mary moving cautiously with Marshall right behind. He was thankful to Lauren for having given him the title of boyfriend because it allowed him to stay at Mary's side without needing a reason or excuse.

From the front hall, Lauren pointed out the family room to the left and the formal living room on the right. The hallway ended in a kitchen that was not modern, but by no means dated either and Mary noticed how clean it was. After examining the kitchen, she glanced at the formal dining room, which was also along the back of the house. The front of the kitchen opened into the family room and the back had sliders to a patio.

They weren't shown upstairs, but Lauren told them there were four bedrooms. It was exactly how Mary would have pictured such a house. She would have liked to believe that it had been cleaned and straightened up in their honor, but as soon as she saw the thin, well groomed woman in a business suit enter from the back of the house, she knew that was not the case.

The woman that stood across from her in the kitchen thrived on neatness and organization and Mary immediately envied Lauren. She was sure that the Hefferman children had always been taken care of and looked after as children; clean and well dressed and never without lunch money. Again, a world that Mary could only relate to from what she'd seen in movies and on television.

"Hello," the woman said after looking Mary and Marshall up and down. The greeting was pleasant enough, so Mary assumed Mrs. Hefferman was at least satisfied with her first impression of the pair.

"Mary, Marshall, this is my mother, Gail Hefferman." Lauren made the formal introduction and Marshall noticed how she stood a little more rigid as the words came out. There was no informal greeting between mother and daughter and he thought it odd.

Mary moved to extend her hand to Gail. "Hi, I'm Mary Sheppard and this is my…boyfriend, Marshall Miller." She had hesitated at the word boyfriend. It felt strange to her to use that word in reference to Marshall, but realized it didn't feel strange in a bad way. Shaking off the thought, she returned her attention back to the room.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Hefferman," Marshall said with a big smile as he extended his hand to the older woman.

"Please, call me Gail," the woman said, obviously taken with Marshall.

Mary gave him a quick glare and worked to suppress a snort; he was such a kiss ass. It was then she realized that what was bothering her was the fact that she felt the need to have this woman's approval and she didn't understand why. 'Shouldn't she be looking for my approval?' she questioned herself. 'She doesn't know who you are, Mary, remember that,' her subconscious replied in response.

Just as Lauren suggested they all move out to the patio, her mother inquired about her brother.

"Most likely in front of the mirror," Lauren replied sarcastically to her mother.

"If you will be so kind as to excuse a moment," Gail said, glaring back at her daughter as she left the room.

"Certainly," Marshall said before turning to follow Lauren outside, but he was stopped by a shove from Mary. "What?" he asked innocently.

"Oh, I think you know, you kiss ass," she whispered loudly in annoyance.

"I can't help it if the ladies like me, Mare," he teased with a grin.

She rolled her eyes in response and walked out the French doors to the find Lauren.

Gail returned to a few minutes later with a young man in tow that Mary could only assume was her son. He looked young and she wondered if he was even 21 yet. He was dressed in what Mary could only assume were the latest fashions; Brandi was the expert in that department. 'Brandi.' She wondered what Brandi would think of the Heffermans.

"Andrew, these are friends of Lauren's from New York," Gail stated.

Mary stood up and reached a hand out to him, "Hey, Andy, I'm Mary." She studied his face for some resemblance to their father, but saw none and decided that any familial traits were from the boy's mother.

"It's Andrew," he replied, clearly feeling like the whole affair was an annoyance and interruption to his day.

"Okay, then," Mary said, taking her seat again and looking inquisitively at Lauren, who was trying to stifle a laugh.

"Nice to meet you, Andrew," Marshall said as he stood in order to draw attention away from Mary. "I'm Marshall."

Andrew took a step closer and eyed Marshall up and down before extending his hand and saying, "The pleasure is all mine, I'm sure."

"Um, yes, well…" Marshall stuttered, not knowing quite how to respond.

A smile appeared on Mary's face as she watched the exchange and she let Marshall suffer for a moment before reaching up and taking his hand.

"Marshall is my boyfriend, Andrew," she stated territorially as she pulled Marshall back down into his seat, intertwining their fingers and letting them remain that way.

"Hmm, shame," Andrew sighed as he took a seat next to his sister.

Marshall asked Gail what she did for a living and upon finding out she was a Realtor, the two commenced an animated conversation about the current state of the market. Everyone else sat quietly and Mary realized there were times she wished she possessed Marshall's ability to converse with almost anyone about almost anything. But then she decided he was much better suited for the task and she noted it as just one more reason to keep him around.

When Gail returned an interest in Marshall, he told her he worked for a large, private security firm in New York. Telling him he looked more like a cowboy than a New Yorker, he chuckled and explained that he was originally from Texas.

Andrew suddenly showed a renewed interest in the conversation, "A real, live cowboy right in here in our house."

Gail ignored her son's comment and asked Lauren to help her bring out some beverages from the kitchen. Concerned about leaving her son with their guests unsupervised, she ordered Andrew to get one of the family photo albums from the den. As the three disappeared into the house, Marshall felt Mary tense and turned to see a pale face looking back at him.

"What is it?"

"It's just," Mary began, "I had almost forgot why we were here."

"Are you sure you want to stay?" Marshall asked as he rubbed his thumb over the back of her hand. "We can make some excuse."

"No. I need to do this. I need to see."

"Okay." He squeezed her hand a little tighter in support and she gave him a weak smile, putting back on the façade as Gail and Lauren returned.

When Andrew appeared with the album, Gail took it and offered to Mary and Marshall.

Reluctantly letting go of Marshall's hand, Mary reached out and took it. She stared at the cover a moment, her own childhood memories flashing through her mind. That was when she felt Marshall's hand come to rest on her thigh, giving a gentle squeeze in support and she flipped open the cover. The first thing she saw was a larger copy of the photo Lauren had given her the night before. Trying not to show any unusual reaction, she asked about their sister.

"That's Becca," Lauren stated, ignoring her brother as he mouthed the word Rebecca.

"She's in her second year of graduate school up at Berkeley," Gail interjected, obviously extremely proud of her other daughter and the irritated looks on the Lauren and Andrew's faces did not go unnoticed. "Full scholarship."

"You must be very proud," Marshall stated. "What's she studying?"

"Criminal Justice."

The response surprised him and he immediately took his hand from Mary's leg and wrapped it around her shoulders, as casually as possible, in order to offer her support. It was impossible for them to know what the other sister was like, but it didn't matter. He was sure that Mary would be comparing herself to Rebecca and feeling inferior. Marshall just thought it ironic that her fugitive father would have not only one, but two daughters in law enforcement.

Mary continued to scan page after page of photos as Gail and her children recounted stories from their childhood, Lauren somewhat less animated than the rest. Coming to one that appeared to be a family camping trip, Gail couldn't remember the details of the vacation and asked Mary to pass the album so she could have a closer look.

As Mary stood and reached across the table with the book, several papers fell from the back cover. She apologized, and handing the album to Gail, moved to gather them up.

"Don't worry about it, Mary," Gail stated with a wave of her hand, "there's really nothing of importance shoved in there."

"I don't mind," Mary said, handing some papers to her. She went about picking up the last of the stray photos from the table, when she froze.

Marshall noticed first and was on immediate alert. He didn't want to make a scene, but there was no doubt in his mind that something was wrong.

"Mary, is everything alright?" Gail inquired.

"Yes," Mary lied. "I had surgery not too long ago and it still bothers me sometimes. I'm fine."

"Can I get you anything?" Lauren asked.

"No, thanks."

Marshall knew Mary was lying and noticed that she still held one of the photos in her hand.

"Who's this little girl with your father?" Mary asked, holding up the photo for the Heffereman's to see.

"Oh, I can't remember her name anymore," Gail responded with little interest. "She was the daughter of one of my husband's cousins back in New Jersey."

Mary looked at the photo again, holding it so Marshall could see and he understood. It was the same picture that Mary often kept in her pocket, the one of her and her father. The one he wasn't supposed to know about.

He looked over at Lauren and watched it register on her face. She understood exactly who the little girl in the photo was and felt sorry for Mary, her mother's words suddenly seeming so callous. In attempt to give Mary time to recover, she distracted her mother with questions about Rebecca's classes. While Andrew, bored with the entire situation, took out his phone and began texting.

She reached down and found Marshall's hand, still holding the photo in the other. He tugged gently and coaxed her back into her seat. Leaning in to whisper in her ear, he reassured her as he took the photo and slid it across the table toward Gail.

"I can't believe how late it's gotten," Gail crowed, looking at her watch as Lauren ran out of questions. "You must think we're so rude for not feeding you. Please, stay and join us for dinner."

"Your husband won't mind? What time does he get home?" Mary said, voice flat and face still ashen, ignoring the glare from Lauren's direction. She had agreed not to bring up their father, but she couldn't help it. As the reality of what had just happened sunk in, she grew more and more angry, not able to hold her tongue.

Gail looked over at Mary in surprise. But recovered quickly and responded, "My husband's out of town on business." The tone of the response indicating that there would be no further discussion of the matter. Then, turning to her son she barked, "Andrew, put that damn phone down and help me set the table."

"No, Mom, they can't stay," Lauren stated, not giving Mary or Marshall a chance to respond to the offer.

"Are you sure?" Gail asked, glancing between her two guests.

"Thank you for the invitation, Gail, but we really must be going." Marshall kept his voice even and his tone polite. "I'm afraid Mary may have overdone it today and should get some rest."

"Well, if you're sure. Then, allow us walk you out." Mrs. Hefferman and her children said their good-byes in the front hall, returned cordially by Mary and Marshall.

As they walked out the front door, Marshall wrapped his arm around Mary once more, in an effort to offer moral and physical support. The color had still not returned to her face and he was growing more and more concerned.

Just as they had reached the curb, Lauren came up behind them.

"What the hell was that?" Lauren snapped. "I'm sorry about the picture, I had no idea it was in there, but you promised not to bring up my father."

"Look…" Marshall began, but Mary holding up her hand stopped in from continuing.

"I know I said I wouldn't mention our father, but forgive for being thrown a little off my game back there. Besides, if I'm going to find out what happened to him, I need to know if anyone is hiding anything. And from what I saw back there, the family closet is not free of skeletons."

"I don't want you contacting my family again. And if I find out you contacted Rebecca…"

"What Lauren? What are you going to do?" Mary challenged.

"Just stay away from us." And with that, Lauren turned and walked back to the house.

Happy return of IPS day, all! Hope you enjoyed it.