In this chapter I'm kinda fudging it on the details of Marshall's house. I never have actually seen it, so I don't really know. I always have pictured he lives in a ranch style home for some reason. Again, I apologize for any OOCness. I tried my bestest. R&R please. Thank you to all of my readers who left reviews. I really do appreciate you taking the time to tell me what you all think. Thanks so much.

"Are you nuts?" Quips Mary, leaning in toward her partner. He had just asked her to come over to his home for absolutely no reason at all. Of course, the opportunity to not have to go back to her own house is one that right now she's very eager to take. But she wants to understand his reasoning.

"Sometimes I believe so," He returns, making Mary smirk at him. "But not at this particular time. I thought you could use a break and since it's late, you'd appreciate a fellow Marshal's offer of comfortable lodgings for the night."

Her eyes flick over the man for a second, in consideration. Finally, Mary simply shrugs and turns back to her paperwork, attempting to move on to the next item. Not finding what she's looking for right off, she begins to sift through the piles.

Marshall stands straight again. "So I guess I can take that shrug as a yes?"

She grins sardonically, still looking through the papers. "Yeah, smart-ass, you could say that." Ignoring her jibe, he goes back and sits, watching her with a knowing smile on his face.

"Damn it, where's it at?" She asks herself, moving to the other stack of papers.

Marshall chuckles and her gaze snaps to him.

"What was that?"

He shrugs, his fingers laced together. "A laugh, you might not recognize it only because you have no sense of humor but people laugh when they find something humorous."

She blinks a few times and leans forward. "You wanna see my sense of humor? Keep talking asshole."

Apparently not caring that she's serious, he grins at her and then sets back to work. "I believe that the paper in question is on the floor. You threw it when you got off the phone."

Her eyes travel over toward the direction in which she remembers throwing the paper. Sure enough, there it is, lying in between their two desks. Rolling her eyes, she gets up and walks over, bending down to get it. She notices Marshall glance over at her and as she stands back up, she throws her pen at him, hitting him squarely between the eyes. "God, hormones, how old are you? Fifteen?"

He shrugs, holding up his hands. "What? I'm a guy, its normal."

She takes her seat again. "Well you better un-normal it."

Silence. Funny, she had expected to get something in return for that one. These banters were always fun. "What? No: 'It's what we do,' or anything?"

"Nope." Their eyes meet, Marshall grinning mischievously and Mary looking disgusted.

She hadn't heard what she wanted. "Come on, there must be something whirling around up in that Encyclopedia, Webster."

No response at first.

"Well," It comes only after a minute or so of silence. "A few seconds ago you did tell me to shut up." He flicks on the radio, currently playing an old Temptations song.

"I actually told you not to keep saying what you were saying. There's a difference."

He doesn't answer again they return to their paperwork in silence.

Stan walks in to see his two Marshals sitting at their desks, working. Not bickering. Not fighting. Not trying to kill one another or Mary and Marshall stealing each other's dinner of takeout. They are simply sitting at their desks, Mary finishing the last of her pile of papers and Marshall on his computer, most likely looking for available houses in Andy's price range. Certainly, this couldn't mean anything good. He slides his badge at the gate, letting himself through and standing beside Marshall's desk. Neither of Stan's people looks up. He clears his throat. Marshall's eyes turn up to look at the man while Mary's eyes flick to him for a moment and then return to the last paper. She wants to finish.

"What's up Stan?" Marshall asks, looking over to make sure Mary isn't going to greet him.

Stan purses his lip. "I was about to ask that. What are you two doing?"

Looking confused, Marshall glances at his computer screen and then back at his boss. "Our jobs, I do believe."

Stan is impressed. "That's exactly what I'm talking about. No fighting, no bickering, nothing is broken. Usually everything has gone to hell by the time I get back after you two have been here alone."

Marshall places his hands behind his head and leans back in his chair. "Mare, Stan seems to think that we're just idiots that never get any work done and are always fighting."

Mary looks up at her partner and shrugs. "That about sums it up, I think."

Feigning being shocked, the marshal sits upright once more and looks between his coworkers. "I think I get a lot done in a day."

Stan smiles at him and Mary just makes a face. "Yeah right."

He shrugs, helpless. "I do."

Mary laughs, finally putting her pen down. "Let's get outta here. It's late."

Marshall stands, shutting down his computer and following her out the door, past Stan who has lowered his head. Why? Why the hell did I say anything? The office was at peace for once...

"See you tomorrow Stan," Marshall calls and Stan raises his hand to return the goodbye, Mary smiling.

Marshall takes her in his car, leaving her crappy, metal death-trap at the office for the night. He pulls out, Mary looking at him. "So, why'd you really want to take me back to your place tonight?"

He glances at his partner, then turns back to the road. "Well, I secretly was planning to seduce you so I'm going to take you back to my house and then-"

"And then I kick your ass..." Mary quips, and Marshall smirks.

"Dually noted."

She gives him a small, genuine smile. "You're gonna order in something to eat right? I'm starved!"

He shrugs at her. "If that's what you want. I have food in my house you know."

She eyes him. "Oh you do?"

He nods. "Yup."

"And here I thought you lived strictly on the U.S. Marshal's diet of either not eating or ordering take out."

He chuckles. "I know what a balanced diet consists of and I try to stick to one."

She grins sarcastically. "Well I do know what a balanced diet is too, thanks, I just don't have the time to try and stick to one." He grins back at her, amused at the way she had scrunched up her nose at the word "time." That's his Mary. Always, no matter what, always pressed for time.

She looks out the window at something that only she knows is there while Marshall is left to a tiny sliver of quiet thought. She is soon turned back to him however, breaking the silence. "So, what did you really want?"

He smiles a bit awkwardly, making Mary curious. "I didn't want anything Mare. I thought you needed a night off and offering to pay for a hotel suite would be a little out of my budget so I opted for a cheaper method of pleasing you this evening." Marshall pulls into his garage, attached to the small ranch style house.

"God Marshall, always eager to please, aren't we?"

He shifts it into park, turning it off and looking at her seriously. "Always."

She smiles softly back at him as they get out. The drive had been very short, only lasting about ten minutes.

"Nice," She says, walking into the small foyer and taking off her shoes, just to get out of them. Marshall takes off his coat and hangs it up, holding out his hand to take Mary's coat from her. She pulls the thing off, thrusting it into his hand and going to the couch, falling back on it lazily.

"Make yourself at home," Marshall walks over beside her as she gives him a thumbs up.

Her stomach growls. "How about that food? I was promised food right? Or was that my imagination?"

He looks into his kitchen and then back at her, standing. "Must have been your imagination. Anyway, pasta sound okay? I could make spaghetti."

She shrugs. "Sure. Sounds good. You want any help?"

Shaking his head, he turns away from her. "It's all good. I think I can handle it. You just watch some T.V. or something. It'll be done in about fifteen or twenty, okay?" She nods, laying her head back on the armrest and closing her eyes and he walks into the kitchen.

She soon hears the radio playing from the kitchen. He apparently works better to music. He likes oldies and country the most. She recalls, watching as he cooks the meal from where she lays. It feels weird to just lie still and relax while someone else is doing all the work. In the back of her mind, she feels remotely bad for making him do this, not even knowing what kind of day he had so far today. The other, more true to her own nature part of her mind doesn't really care. All she wants to do is sleep. Or run away. Yeah, just her and Marshall. We could go for a weekend to Vegas or something like that and play the slots for like thirteen hours then pass out in some cheap, crappy motel room along I99. Sounds like a fun time to me. He could use a break too I'll bet.

She stands and walks into the kitchen, leaning onto the counter beside him. Turning over his shoulder, he grins at her. His shirt is now unbuttoned at the top. He had probably undone it when he started cooking, knowing that he'd get hot. She glances to the pot of boiling pasta and then back at him. "Almost done, Emeril?"

He chuckles. "Yeah, almost done."

"Want me to mix the sauce?"

He looks at her. "Two offers to help in the same night and both directed at me? Who are you?"

"Ha ha, you're funny. I don't have to help." Mary's arms are already crossed.

He nods. "No, you don't."

She puts her hands on her hips now, an almost trademark, "I'm pissed off at you." stance of hers that he knows quite well. "Now you're just being difficult. Stop playing games and give me that damn pan."

Chuckling at her antics he sidesteps, allowing her room to access the flat pan in which the sauce is cooking away. She stirs, immediately admiring how he is able to keep it thick and keep watching the pasta as well. Marshall not only has the knowledge of culinary arts, he knows how to use it as well. Just like everything else he knows about and is somehow able to do. For as much as he annoys her most of the time, she can at least give him that. He's good at so many things.

She shakes her head, looking at the pan as she realizes that it's time to turn it off. "Hey Jeeves, is that pasta all most done over there?"

Nodding, he turns to her. "Two minutes. I'll get plates." Moving to one side, he opens a floor cabinet, pulling out two plates. He places them onto the counter and then leans over to her. "Grab the silverware out of the drawer to your left there." She reaches in and pulls out two forks and two spoons.

"Hand me the pepper?" He asks, reaching out.

She puts some on her own and then hands it over. "Thanks for all this."

He shakes his head. "I'm your friend Mare, you don't need to thank me."

She nods back at him, placing her hand, inadvertently over his. "Yeah, for once, I should. You do a lot for me. Thanks."

He grins shyly, not used to her saying things like this. Not like she never says those words, but they're always rushed or tired sounding. She sounds nothing but genuinely grateful right now. "You're welcome Mare. It's nothing really."

"No, it's a big deal. Just shut up and don't say that anymore."

Holding up his hands, he surrenders. "Okay, okay. Just finish eating, then we'll watch a movie or some T.V." She nods at this.

He washes up the dishes after, she collects the remaining items from the table. "We're not watching Back to the Future or Clueless. You got that?"

He shrugs. "Well, there goes my evening."

She smiles at him. "Aw, I feel so bad..."

"And now she shows her true colors once more. I knew the compliments, offers of assistance and thank yous would not last all that long. Anyway, I'm sure you do. But no chick flicks either."

She makes a face. "What do you care? You've probably seen most of them."

He moves toward her, taking on a challenging position. "I haven't actually."

Her hands are on her hips again. "Oh really? Prove it. Best date movie!"

He backs away. "I'm am not getting into a movie debate with you Mare. Let's just pick something that's on mutual ground..." He smiles at her, knowing full well that she will not back down from his challenge.

"I guess that you just don't think you know chick flicks as well as I do."

"That's right," He quips. "I know movies way better than you. Don't even try."

Mary knows what she's getting herself into. She knows that her partner is basically a walking encyclopedia. This is probably a challenge that Mary will lose. But Mary Shannon has never been one to back down from a challenge and if she's going to lose, she's going to lose at least trying, not by forfeit. She has to at least try. How then, would she be able to call herself Mary if she gave up?

"Don't challenge me if you can't back it up. Come on, best date movie, and I mean from this century."

He finally nods. "I believe it was...Forgetting Sarah Marshall...or something to that effect."

They take a seat on the couch, Marshall unbuttoning another of the buttons on his shirt, getting ready to unwind in front of the T.V. for a while. Mary lets her hair down out of her ponytail. "Best action movie," He states.

"Oh, you're trying to scare me with that one."

He places his hands behind his head. "Are you afraid yet?"

"Righteous Kill. Al Pacino, Robert De Niro and a whole lot of dead bad guys."

His eyebrows raised, Marshall leans forward. "I'm proud grasshopper."

"For two weeks it was the only damn commercial on T.V. at night. Best chick flick."

Marshall shakes his head. "Right to the point huh?"

"You know me, I don't beat around the bush."

He turns on the T.V. "Bride Wars."

She puts her feet up on the couch and leans back against the armrest again. "Oh, burn."

"Okay, so...what do you want to watch?" S

he shrugs. "Well, there's never going to be an agreement on a movie is there?"

He shakes his head. "Not as far as I can tell."

She purses her lips and closes her eyes. "Then anything but Discovery or History."

As he flicks through the channels it eventually comes to some sort of a game show, taking place in a taxi cab.

Mary looks over at the T.V. "I've never heard of this before."

Nodding, Marshall throws his arms up over the back of the couch. "I think this is called Cash Cab, but I've never seen it played before."

She moves toward Marshall now, finding comfort somehow, in laying her head on his shoulder. She'd never realized how much she could relax when she is with Marshall until just now. Sure, she knows that she is just a tiny bit nicer to her partner and that they trust each other with their lives, but trusting him with her emotions? She had never dreamed of the day when she'd entrust that to anyone. When she was young and naive, she used to picture it'd be her life partner that she'd share this kind of trust with, not her working partner. But then, Marshall and Mary seem to have that same dynamic. When you think about it, they do understand one another more than anyone and they stand by each other when forced into tough situations. Like the Horst situation in that decrepit old diner in the middle of nowhere. Or like the kiss she had feigned saving Treena from diamond smugglers. When it boiled down to it, their adventures were weird, but they always had each other's backs.

He stiffens for a moment before putting an arm around her, trying to be comforting. How long has it been now since he's felt this way? This insatiable pull...this love. How long? He doesn't even know. Sometime in the past years, he had fallen and fallen hard. There is not one thing that he wouldn't do for Mary. He takes his comfort in knowing that though she might not return his feelings right now, it's the same for Mary. Despite all of her quirks and joking, at the end of the day she will do anything for him as well. The feeling is mutual as far as wanting to do right by him. That's all he needs from her, for the time being.

The room is silent for a while. He assumes that Mary has finally fallen asleep and turns the T.V. down a bit, going and getting changed for bed. He takes off his shirt and pants, leaving him in only a pair of boxer shorts and a white wife beater. Since it's a little cold though, he opts to put on a long pair of pants and a tee shirt. Pulling the other clothes off his bed, he throws them in the laundry hamper in his closet.

When he turns to the door, there stands Mary, about to knock, though it's half opened all ready. "Hey, where am I at tonight?"

He swallows the lump in his throat. How long had she just been standing there? Oh, who cares? He is acting like some kid, falling in love for the first time. "Uh, the uh...guest room...it's just down the hall. Come on."

She nods and follows beside him, stopping in front of the same door he stops at. She sidesteps a bit and he pushes the door open, holding out his hands. "Here is your lovely room in the Mann Grand Hotel. I hope you find everything to your liking. Please let our front desk know if you will be needing anything else this evening."

Mary smiles at him for a moment more before wrapping her arms around him in a small hug. He stands for a moment, completely still, not knowing what to think. This might just be something left over from Mary's kidnap episode. It's most likely that. And, knowing that, Marshall wraps his arms around her too, gently patting her hair.

"Night Marshall."

He smiles at her when she moves back. "Good night Mare." After she closes the door behind her, Marshall takes a deep breath and then walks back to his room.

Sometime late in the night Mary wakes with a start from probably the most horrible kidnapping dream that she has had thus far. Periodically since her abduction she'd been having these dreams, each time until now, able to wake up and reassure herself that she'd be okay. But she doesn't recognize this place, or the smells or the climate at the moment. It's all foreign to her. She wipes the sweat off her forehead, looking around at her surroundings frantically, only realizing that she's not in her own house, but not yet remembering where she is. Throwing the covers aside, Mary jumps out of the guest bed and begins to look for a light switch. Finding it on the wall beside the door, she flips it on, finding that she is indeed in her partner, Marshall's home. Relief and disappointment both flood her at the same moment. No, she has not actually been kidnapped once more and that is the biggest relief of all, but she had been too afraid and confused to think straight, which is just not how she is at all. Her eyes close in self-reproach. Though she knows that this mindset is normal after being kidnapped, drugged, almost raped and nearly killed, she can't help but to berate herself for letting these bastards get inside her head. Mary Shannon is supposed to be stronger than this. No one is supposed to get to her like this.

She throws the door open and makes her way back over to the couch she had been sitting on with Marshall earlier. Somehow being in this spot made her feel better. It is a work night and she wasn't about to disrupt his sleep on top of everything else, not to mention that she didn't want him to see her like this anymore than he all ready has. He had flipped his lid, so to speak, when he had found out that the man had almost raped her on top of making her watch someone die and another of the men had threatened to cut of one of her fingers. She curls up into a ball on the couch, burying her head in her lap. She feels tears stinging at her eyes but manages to hold them in, not wanting Marshall to find her crying in the middle of the night, lest he should wake up and come out here.

She rubs the sides of her eyes, lifting her head from her lap. Someone places a hand on her shoulder and she reels around, delivering a forceful right hook to the person's jaw, only to realize that it's Marshall, who is somehow still on his feet.

She stands. "Damn it Marshall! What the hell are you doing?"

He steps back, rubbing his jaw. "I heard a door slam and was worried so when I came out and saw you out here..."

She lowers her head and then looks back up at him. "Oh...sorry. How are you?"

"Well, pretty good considering that I was just punched in the face." They stare at one another for a moment.

"You still worried about that whole thing with Brandi?"

She shakes her head. "Naw. I figure that by the time I get home tomorrow there'll be a new crisis."

Marshall nods. "Well, what did she say to you?"

Mary shakes her head. "Well, apparently I'm not giving mom a chance to prove that she can stop drinking."

Marshall nods at her again and he knows that her sister is probably right about at least that much, but also that Mary is well within reason to be judgmental. Besides, if he tells her he thinks Brandi is right, she'll just get even angrier and then be mad at him as well as her family. That's the last thing he wants and it's the last thing she needs to be hearing right now. With everyone else in her life right now letting her down, she needs one person to be on her side, regardless of their personal feelings or views. Even exotic animals have some friends.

"Marshall," He looks at her when he hears how small her voice is. "Distract me...do something...anything..."

He nods, not even asking what has her so upset. He goes over and turns on the radio, tuning into the oldies station. A song is just ending at the moment, leading into the next one. I Like The Way You Love Me. A slow, love song.

Marshall looks at the radio and then turns to her and holds out his hand. "Mare, get up." She glances at him.

"What?"

"Get up," He moves his hand toward her further and she just looks at him for a moment longer before standing and placing her hand on his. He pulls her close and begins to slowly sway from side to side, a slow dance. She is still for a moment, unable to move on her own, letting him move them both back and forth. This is certainly new. They've never really done anything like this before, not in a serious situation anyway. They had kissed in the barn a while ago, just to fool the diamond smugglers trying to kill Mary's witness. She had saved his life. He had saved hers. But she can't recall one time in the last few years they've been partners when they had danced.

Standing over her, Marshall can smell the scented shampoo in her hair from the morning. It isn't overpowering, but he can tell it's there. It's a very fresh, light scent, reminding him very much of standing outside after a big rainstorm. Sometimes personality isn't even what attracts you to someone, though Marshall cannot say that he doesn't admire Mary's personality, but it's just that person. It's just that one person, in and of himself or herself, for no one specific reason and for every reason imaginable. Maybe that's why he's attracted to her. Whatever it is, the thing he most admires about her right now is the way she's so close and the delightful smell of her blond hair under his nose.

A moment passes and she begins to relax into him, her arms slung over his shoulders, his arms wrapped securely around her waist. Her head still lays on his strong shoulder, but now she turns to face his neck, her nose lightly brushing against it. He doesn't make any moves, though he can feel a small shiver run down his spine and simply continues his dance until the song ends. They pull back and look at one another.

"You better?" Marshall questions quietly.

She nods her head and they sit down on the couch.

"You gonna tell me what happened?" Another question? How many does there need to be?

Her head falls a bit. "It was just a stupid dream."

His eyes widen a bit, knowing her direction all ready. "About being kidnapped?"

She nods. "I don't wanna talk about it."

Marshall simply shrugs. "Good, I don't wanna hear about it."

Half serious, half joking. She grins. "That sounded serious. You don't care?" She can't imagine Marshall not caring. Marshall always cares.

He shakes his head, just like she knew he would. "That's not it at all Mare."

Her eyes meet with his, still slightly saddened but mostly confused. "Then what?"

He sighs discontentedly, looking to the floor for answers. When nothing comes to him, he simply looks at the woman sitting next to him. "If you aren't ready to talk to me then I won't push. That's just how we roll."

Her grin at this makes him feel a bit better and she finally just gets up. He follows. "You going to sleep?"

Rubbing her forehead tiredly, she nods.

He covers a yawn. He hasn't realized it has gotten so late. When he had noticed Mary sitting out here like this, he had forgotten all else and came to her aid.

"Yeah. I'll call it a night now that I've disrupted your sleep and all. Job's done for this evening."

He smirks. "Thanks, I really appreciate the honesty."

Mary gives a thumbs up. "No problem. Honesty is one of my seven virtues."

He chuckles. "Yeah, everyone should always be honest with you, right?"

She makes a face and then turns away. "One of my other seven virtues is kicking the asses of anyone who makes fun of my virtues."

He shrugs. "Understood."

They separate, going back to their rooms.

The following morning Mary wakes to the smell of bacon and eggs cooking. That, in itself, is enough to make her get out of bed and rub her tired eyes, glancing around hungrily. She brushes her hair haphazardly and her teeth quickly as well before heading out into the other room in one of his tee shirts and boxer shorts, which she had taken from the bottom drawer where he always had left them for her overnight visits, few and far between as they are.

He looks up as she enters the room and smiles at her. "Looks good on you."

"I know. What's for breakfast?"

At that, Marshall looks around at everything. "Bacon, eggs, toast, home fries, milk and orange juice to drink. I thought I'd show you what someone on a balanced diet eats like."

She tilts her head, giving him a smirk in return. "You mean you actually eat all this every morning? How do you stay so boney?" She pinches his arm.

"Hey, cut that out, okay I'm shutting up."

She looks over all the food. "It does look good."

"Go ahead and make a plate," He tells her, handing her a clean one from the dish rack. "Everything's almost ready. The only thing that needs a bit more time is the sausage."

She looks at the meat, noting how dark they are. "Marshall, I thought you liked them cooked less."

He nods. "Yeah, but sometimes I like them well done."

She slaps his shoulder and then begins gathering food, both of them knowing that he really meant: "Because you're here, I thought I'd do it the way you want it."

"You have an overnight bag in the car?"

She looks up at him. "Duh,"

He nods. "Right, you don't. Um, I think I have some of your clothes here from when you stayed a few months ago. They're clean. I'll get those."

She nods and then goes back to biting on her toast.

He washes the dishes as she gets cleaned up and dressed, readying herself for an exciting day of house hunting with Andy. Stan is kind enough to call and inform the two of them that Andy had given a three-week notice of his move out to his current landlord. Which, of course means that now they are all going to go from place to place, seeing which ones Andy likes the best and which ones actually fit his price range.

However, She muses to herself as she climbs into the passenger seat of Marshall's car and gives him her usual grin. I got a decent night's sleep last night staying here. I'll have to stay over at Marshall's more often. No Brandi or mom to wake me up. Sounds pretty damn good.

Marshall sits a cup of coffee down on her desk, thirty minutes before Andy is set to arrive. She yawns.

"Did you sleep okay last night Mary?" Stan questions, looking between his people.

Mary gives a nod in return. "Yeah, better than I have in ages."

Stan's eyebrows go up. "And you're still yawning? Jesus, get on a sleeping pattern."

Mary gives Marshall a fake wink and then looks back at her boss. "I didn't say that I slept all night last night."

The older man looks between the two Marshals, wondering if he should be concerned until he finally shakes his head.

"Oh come on Stan, don't you wanna hear the story?" Marshall asks, as the man disappears wordlessly into his office. Mary and Marshall grin at one another. Probably the most rewarding part of the job is making their boss worry needlessly.

"Thanks for letting me stay over." She tells him when Stan walks back through a bit later, motioning to the elevator. Apparently, the plans had been changed and they were now meeting Andy someplace else.

Marshall nods back at Mary. "You're welcome to stay over any time."

I can't stress it enough! Please Read and Review! I like to hear what you all think. Constructive criticism, nice comments, even a simple "I liked it" will please me. I'm a simple person. I'm like a dog, you praise me and I'll keep doing my tricks to please you. Be a good master and review. Please.

I know, I had originally thought this to only be a short story, but now I'd like to do a third chapter. I'm not so sure about how to do Mary/Marshall fluffy stuff yet, but I promise that in this next chapter I will try my hand at it. This chapter had more of their banters than the first and the romantic aspect leaned more toward Marshall's feelings toward Mary and her need for comfort. I will do my best, but only after I see more reviews. Please, let me know if you'd like to hear more or what you thought about these two chapters. I know I said that the thrid would be the last, but I lied. ;D I want to bring the story to a conclusion. The third chapter didn't go exactly as I planned, my bad. Sorry all. So now, the last chapter, coming at you! Watch out, it's going to be a long one.