Pensamiento

By Cortexikid

Chapter 3: Partners' Tiff and Pizza Pie

A/N: So, here's the final chapter, hope you guys enjoy! Warning: angst ahead.

Mary heaved a sigh as she rested her head back against the seat. It had been one hell of a long day. Between flights delayed, baggage nearly lost and throngs of sweaty people, screaming babies and unruly hyper kids Mary suddenly remembered why she hadn't gone on vacation in a very long time.

As if parting with Faber wasn't awkward enough (the words, "I'll call you" and thoughts of "don't hold your breath" came to mind) with the short hug goodbye and the so-called charming (more like smug) smile as he walked towards a taxi was enough to make her skin crawl with unease and…dare she admit it, regret.

What was that saying that you only realized a mistake once you've made it over and over again? Or was that insanity? Well, yeah, whatever it was, Mary understood its meaning now as she sat uncharacteristically quietly in the back of her own taxi, eagerly awaiting nothing more but her comfy bed.

Well, maybe a bed wasn't the only thing she was looking forward to seeing…

Marshall returned her call that morning as the bright Sunday sun basked through her hotel window. She was already up and packing and had given Faber his marching orders (well, more like seriously suggesting that he get his ass out of bed and pack before she kicked him out) when her phone vibrated.

"Hello?" she answered quietly, listening to see if Faber was in the shower yet.

"Hey, Mare, I only got your message this morning. When's your flight?" came the familiar voice of her partner, sounding a little more hoarse than usual.

"Uh, yeah, I called last night. Where were you, Doofus? Out fighting crime in your Batman pajamas again?" she teased, a smile spreading across her face as she heard his scolding snort.

"Yeah, Mare, I'm the 21st century, poorer imitation of Bruce Wayne," he replied sarcastically, "when's your flight?" he asked again, a little less patiently this time.

She heard something in his voice then. Something she found hard to identify.

"Uh, my flight's in an hour, I should be back in good ol' ABQ at around 6. You coming to pick me up or am I gonna have to haul my own ass home?"

There was a slight pause as she waited for him to reply. She frowned a little as she heard him sigh softly.

"I thought Faber would give you a ride," he responded dryly and Mary heard the double meaning in his tone.

Crap. He knows. How the hell does he know! If it was Stan I swear to God he is getting a whole lotta whoop-ass and bowling ball polish for Christmas!

Mary's thoughts were going wild as she fought to determine how he found out about her covert companion.

"Uh, I-I'll get a taxi back if you're busy. See you tomorrow partner," she mumbled before quickly hanging up on him.

Now, as she reflected on her actions earlier this morning, Mary couldn't believe how panicked she felt as her partner asked about Faber. She didn't know why exactly, but the thought of Marshall knowing about him accompanying her this last week set her nerves on edge. And…if she didn't know better, she could have sworn she felt something akin to guilt swirl in the pit of her stomach.

Sighing, she shook her head to rid herself of those stupid thoughts.

I have no reason to feel guilty, she assured herself, as she saw her house come into view as the taxi pulled up outside her drive.

"That'll be ten-forty," the taxi driver informed her as she fumbled for some cash.

"Keep the change," she grumbled before practically jumping out of the back seat and grabbing her luggage from the trunk. As the car pulled away, Mary heaved another sigh (this one content) as she stared at her home, her now fully vacant home.

"Home sweet home," she whispered to herself sarcastically, before hauling her luggage up to the door, pulling out her keys and letting herself in. Slowly, she turned on the lights and looked around her living room and kitchen area, happily noting that it looked exactly as she left it, for once. No Brandi, no Jinx, no havoc or drama…it was good to be back.

She closed the door and locked it before trudging towards her bedroom (leaving her luggage and crap at the door, she'd unpack when she was more awake, or never, whatever was less hassle) and let out a little tired laugh as she laid eyes on her (for once) neat bed.

Slipping off her boots and pulling off her clothes, she didn't bother with pajamas and just plonked on the bed in her underwear and looked up at the ceiling. She felt calmer now that she was home and in familiar surroundings and was surprised that she felt more relaxing now than she did on her entire vacation. And she had a good few hours left to bask in before she got back to work tomorrow morning. Now this was bliss.

Slowly, she closed her eyes and took a deep, calm breath. Thoughts of the last few days, work that would meet her in the morning and…the notable absence of her partner swirling around in her head she pushed it all aside and let sleep claim her.

She had time to think about all that other crap later.

Marshall blinked several times as he pulled up to the familiar house. His and Mary's signature pizza and beer lay on the passenger seat as he struggled through his muddled thoughts of earlier that day.

When he awoke this morning, his phone lying haphazardly on his bedside table blinking impatiently letting him know he had a message, he nursed his slightly sore head and reached out for it. With bleary eyes, he clicked the button and held the phone up to his ear.

'You have one new message. Received yesterday at 8:30pm.'

"Hey, Doofus, just checkin' in. You're probably busy getting your ass kicked at online Scrabble by some eleven year old so I'll make this quick. I'll be back being my sunshine self at the office on Monday. Don't forget to check up on O'Hara for me like a good partner, and give Stan a little hell from me too while you're at it. Oh—and I think I saw one of those birds; you know the black and grey ones with long tails? What are they called again? Damn, I know you told me once. Shocking I forgot some of your verbal diarrhoea huh? Uh, anyway, I'll see you soon okay? Don't stay up all night no matter how much a little girl from India taunts you about your Scrabble ineptitude okay? I don't want you all sleep deprived while you finish my paper work; your chicken scratch is hard enough to read as it is. Okay, bye Doofus…"

Marshall almost smiled as he heard his partner's term of endearment for him but something stopped him in his tracks. She sounded, odd, off, not like herself. There was something in her voice that sounded strained, almost if she were hiding a clandestine stress or secret and unfortunately, Marshall knew exactly what that was.

She was in Mexico with Faber, and she was trying to hide it from him. He didn't know which was worse, the fact that she was deliberately keeping something from him, or that she thought that he didn't have to intelligence to know exactly what was going on. Either way, he was hurt, and that was probably the main reason for his actions last night.

As he sat there in his car, staring at her front door, he thought back to his behaviour the night before.

How he had chatted up a perfectly pleasant and beautiful woman, an intelligent and witty vet originally from Arkansas. It had been quite a while since he had flirted but damn, he knew he did well last night, at least, until it was time to head back to his hotel.

"So…I guess I'll be saying goodnight," the woman, Julia, said quietly as they walked out of the bar and he hailed a taxi for her.

"I guess you will," he replied with a smile, "good night, Julia, it was nice meeting you," he finished, turning to leave.

"Wait!" she called, walking up to him and tapping him on the shoulder, "uh…look, I don't usually do this but…would you—I mean, if you're free and uh…would you like to meet up for a coffee sometime?" she asked all in one breath, her eyes shinning in the dim light of the bar sign.

Marshall looked down at the petite red-head seriously considering her and the cute look on her face as she put herself out there. She really was quite the woman, he could tell that from their near two hour conversation. And, if he were to really admit it to himself, if this had of been him a few years ago (say nine or ten years ago) he would have accepted her offer without a second thought.

But, he was older and wiser now, not to mention hardened and had seen far too much in his profession and he just didn't want that… whatever it was, screwing up this sweet and pleasant woman.

(His decision didn't possibly have anything to do with a tall, kick-ass blonde friend of his. Of course not.)

"I—I would love to Julia but…I just got out of a seven year relationship recently and I—I don't think I'm ready for…coffee with a beautiful woman," he replied, nearly cringing at his half-lie and the look of disappointment on her face.

"Oh…I understand…well, you never know, we might see each other again in the future. Have a good night, Marshall," she responded with her usual gentleness with only a hint of disillusionment as she held out her hand to shake his.

"You too Julia, and I hope Mr. Boots gets better," he smiled as he shook her hand, trying to erase the discomfort of knowing that he bought this woman an alcoholic drink and talked her ear off for nearly two hours and didn't have the balls to even go for coffee with her. He felt like he led her on and he wasn't proud of it.

"Thanks Marshall, good night," she called as she turned around and got into the taxi waiting nearby.

He waved shortly as he watched the yellow car drive away and out of view.

His heart sank. After everything, only one thing invaded his mind as he began his trek back to his hotel.

Mary was coming home tomorrow.

Shaking his head at the memory that plagued him all day, he sighed and got out of his car, grabbing the beer and pizza as he did so. Time to face the music. After a lot of deliberation, he decided at least for now, normalcy was what was best for him and Mary. He was damn determined to act like everything was fine, there was no way he would let her know he was bothered by her latest mistake…or in her words decision.

He stopped shy of the doorway and raised his hand to knock. After a few moments he heard footsteps reach the door before it opened slightly. His eyes (almost against his will) hungrily drank in her form that consisted of messy hair, bare feet and a body was clad in nothing but an overly-large T-shirt. He swallowed deeply and held out the pizza and beer silently for her to take.

"Oh, you are a God," she exclaimed, yanking the items out of his hands and pulling him through the doorway.

"Hello to you too," he grumbled as he stumbled towards her kitchen.

Mary closed and locked the door before following him, padding into her kitchen to get some plates.

"Yeah, yeah, hi how are you and all that crap. Now sit down and shut your trap, 'Are You Smarter Than A Fifth Grader' is on…"

His eyebrows shot up.

"I thought you hated that show?" he muttered as she shoved the six-pack in his hands and pushed him towards the couch.

"I do, but it's funny as fuck to watch those idiots get their asses kicked by kids. That and it always amazes me how competitive you get with the TV," she grinned, pouncing on her couch and drawing her knees close to her body and under her large t-shirt as he sat down beside her.

"I'm not competitive, I just like to challenge America's youth, it's not the same thing," he mumbled, opening a beer and taking a slice of Mary's favourite pizza.

"Whatever you say, Point-Dexter," she smiled before turning her attention to the TV.

They entered a comfortable (or so they liked to think) silence until the show was over, they were both on their last beer and all that was left of the pizza was a few scarce crumbs.

"Uh, I think I'm pregnant with a food baby," Mary whined, rubbing her stomach with a look of discomfort on her face.

Marshall seriously had to hold his tongue on that particular comment. The words 'really pregnant' and 'Faber Baby Daddy' rolled around in his brain.

"So…how was Mexico?" he decided this conversation was long overdue.

Mary instantly stilled something that did not escape Marshall's eyes.

"It was…a nice break from the job…" she started hesitantly, "but…I'm glad to be back home…in good ol' Albuquerque."

"Uh huh."

Mary froze as she heard the familiar expression escape her partner's lips.

"What's uh huh?" she asked, both of them feeling the odd sensation of déjà vu.

"Nothing. I just didn't think that Faber would be break from the job…" he shrugged, taking a swig of his beer.

Mary gaped at him, not entirely sure how to respond to that. She decided to go to her old friend – anger.

"Yeah, that was something I wanted to ask you about actually. How the hell did you find out about that? Checkin' up on me, Marshall?" She asked, the 'outrage' evident in her tone.

He turned to her with a speed that would have given her a creek in her neck if she moved as fast.

"No Mare, I wasn't 'checking up on you.' I didn't think it was some big secret, and apparently, neither did Stan. Did you not want me to know for some reason?" he asked, underlining anger lacing his tone as the fear of her response was tightly hidden.

Yep. Stan is definitely getting a dose of my foot up his ass, she thought as she glared at her partner, leaping off the couch, folding her arms across her chest and stomping out into her kitchen.

"No, of course not, why would I give a damn what you know? Don't flatter yourself Marshall," she scolded, shoving the pizza box in the trash and opening a cabinet searching for some of the liquor that she kept hidden from Jinx.

Marshall stood up and followed her, anger flowing freely in his veins now.

"Really? 'Cause I got the impression that you didn't want that particular information divulged…you know, considering I asked you if you were going alone before you left and you said, if my memory serves correctly, 'yeah Doofus, just me, the sun, sea and sex on the beach…jealous?'" he almost growled, gripping the edge of the kitchen counter to try and desperately rein in his temper.

Mary turned and looked at her partner full on for the first time since he arrived. Finally she noticed the tense shoulders, the blood-shot, baggy eyes and the crumpled shirt.

"Rough night last night, Marshall?" she asked, decided a change of subject was in order.

"What's it to you?" he snapped before he could stop himself.

Damn it Mann, get a grip! What happened to not letting Faber and Mexico bother you? Where did those best laid plans disappear to?

"Geez, sorry Miss Daisy, didn't realize you were on your period. Forget I asked…" she trailed off, cranking open the bottle of scotch she found and pouring a healthy dose into her glass.

Marshall watched her intently, the look of scotch turning his stomach. Suddenly, upon hearing her snappy reply, he was compelled to tell her all about last night (determinedly ignoring his rational side).

"For your information, I went to a bar last night, had a couple of glasses of scotch," he informed her clearly, not meeting her gaze.

"Since when do you go to bars?" she asked, her brow furrowed.

"Since my partner took a vacation and I was left with her work-load. Decided I deserved a break," he knew it was a low blow but suddenly he was plagued with images of her rolling around in a messy bed with Faber's hands all over her. It was enough to make him physically sick.

She laughed humourlessly, not understanding where all this anger suddenly came from.

"You mean the first vacation I've taken in nearly a decade? Well geez Marshall, if it's such a chore I'll break my back for the next ten years without a day off if it means that goddamn much to you," she snapped, slamming the glass back down on the counter.

It was now Marshall's turn to laugh humourlessly.

"You really think we're going to be doing this same old crap in ten years time Mare?"

Mary whipped around to face him, her façade slipping for a moment and her true emotions showing, anger, fear and a lot of hurt.

Marshall's heart constricted tightly in his chest.

"What—what the hell is that supposed to mean?" Mary asked, her voice a lot quieter than before, fearing his response.

"Nothing, it meant nothing. I—look Mare, I gotta go. I'll see you tomorrow," he mumbled, his voice too a hell of a lot softer than before as he hung his head lowly.

He turned and made his way towards the door but before he could open it, he felt Mary stomp after him and roughly yank him around to face her, her hand gripping her arm tightly.

"No, wait; you're not going anywhere until we talk about this! What the hell crawled up your ass and died? What's going on with you?" she demanded hurriedly, not relinquishing his arm for a second.

Marshall was losing steam however. He no longer had the time nor the energy to get into this with her now.

"Nothing's wrong Mare, I just gotta go, welcome home," he half-whispered, gently pulling his arm from her grasp.

She reached back out to him at lightening speed and clasped his arm again.

"Where do you have to be at this hour Marshall? It's past nine…" he knew she was just fishing for conversation, trying to make him stay, trying to calm the situation but it wasn't going to work this time.

"I just…I gotta go, okay? I'll see you tomorrow…" he pulled away from her again and turned towards the door but Mary stepped around him and leant back flush against her door, blocking his way.

"You hiding something from me Marshall?" she asked, looking up into his eyes for the first time. His usually bright blue eyes had dimmed a little and couldn't fully meet her gaze. She knew she was just stalling and looking for an excuse to get him to stay, to get rid of this awkwardness and anger between them but she was just grasping at straws now. He probably wasn't hiding anything; Marshall wasn't like that…he wasn't like her.

"Are you?" she asked again and watched his eyes lower to the ground before his jaw clenched.

"Actually Mare, not that it's any of your business but – I have a date tonight," he lied, trying to ignore his taunting inner voice.

You pathetic liar…look what you've been reduced to…you're no better than that snake Faber…

Mary felt a strange sensation rise in her stomach, something she was unwilling to name as her chest clenched uncomfortably.

"Oh…" she mumbled, "well, uh…in that case, don't let me stop you."

She moved away from the door and stepped around him, wrapping her arms around herself.

"Uh, right, well, good night," he replied awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck.

"…Night," she murmured, watching him silently as he opened her door and stepped out into the crisp twilight.

He was nearly at his car before she was compelled to say something, anything…she couldn't leave it like this.

"Hey Marshall?" she called, stepping out onto her porch.

He turned and looked at her expectantly, something she couldn't identify in his eyes.

"Yeah Mare?"

"…Have—have a good time…and—don't scare her away with your vast knowledge of the behaviour of serial killers or the mating habits of otters, okay?"

He nodded silently and turned around, yanking his car door open and was pulling away and out of sight before Mary could take her next breath.

Suddenly, Mary felt cold and so many other things that she feared to name. Slowly, she went back inside, trudged towards her couch and sat down heavily. She was irritated to find that she didn't feel so glad to be home anymore. Grumbling, she ran her hands through her hair impatiently trying not to think about what had just transpired between her and Marshall or what he could possibly get up to tonight…not that it was any of her damn business, just like he said.

Rolling her eyes and ignoring everything she could, she went to get the scotch.

"Home sweet home my ass."

A/N: And so ends my very first IPS fic. A not-so-happy ending, I know, but it is part angst after all. Not too happy with it but it'll do. Hope you guys liked it…

I'd love a review =]

~Cortexikid