Author's Note: Thanks to everyone who read chapter one, and a special thanks to those that took the time to review. I hope that you will find this installment up to your standards and to your liking as well. Chapters may be spread out a bit. I'm studying for national board exams right now, and because I'm poor, I have no money for other, more expensive forms of diversion. Anyway. Thank you, reviewers! Here is chapter two (because I'm way too brain dead after a 16 hour marathon of advanced cardiac life support class to think up anything more inspired to call it).
Katie and Marshall settled into a comfortable silence for the remainder of the drive to Mary's house. He watched her out of the corner of his eye. She had her head turned, facing out the passenger side window most of the time. He considered giving her his patented tour guide special, minus the whole "keep your hands inside the windows at all times" bit, but she appeared preoccupied, and he didn't want to bother her. Marshall discovered that he had grown unaccustomed to the person in the passenger seat being still and quiet. Mary was never still. Even when she was dropping from exhaustion she radiated energy. Katie preferred quiet and still, though, and he was willing to oblige.
"Here we are." He spoke softly as he pulled into the driveway and moved his truck into park.
"Where?"
"Mary's house." He nodded, watching as she took it in.
"Wow." She smiled, eyes wide. "Mary has a nice house."
He said nothing, but remembered the state it had been in a few months prior after the feds were done with their witch hunt.
"You ready?" She hadn't moved yet, not even to unbuckle her seat belt.
"Oh, right." Katie scrambled out of the cab of the truck, dropping gracefully to her feet from the height of the cab of the truck. She stood on tiptoe to grab her bags from the bed of the truck, but Marshall had beaten her to the punch, easily lifting them up.
"Here." He handed her his keys, indicating a particular one. "This one's hers. Go on in." Her eyes met his hesitantly, and Marshall could tell she was unsure of entering her cousin's house alone for the first time. "Can you get door for me?" That might make it better.
"Sure." She hurried to the front door, key turning in the lock with a metallic scratch. "Go ahead." She motioned him through the door, holding it open for him as he carried her bags. Katie followed Marshall slowly, eyes wide with awe as she gradually took in her surroundings. Mary had certainly done okay for herself.
"I'm not sure which room will be yours." Marshall interrupted her thoughts apologetically. "I guess you could just dump your stuff and move it later if you need." He shrugged, wishing he had taken the time to finalize the details of the pickup and drop off.
Katie couldn't have cared less about which room she'd be staying in. Rather than take the grand tour, she made a beeline for the kitchen and wrenched open the refrigerator door. Marshall chuckled at the exasperated frown she made as she swung back to face him.
"Mary has no food." Her head shook as she shut the fridge and started rummaging through cabinets. "I know she's not a gourmet chef, but can't she at least make pasta?" Marshall didn't want to comment. He'd eaten Mary's pasta. Or tried to. The truth was that no, she could not.
"Are you hungry?" Why hadn't he realized it earlier? She was probably famished after the long day of traveling. Airplane food was not food in the strictest sense of the word. He had suspicions that it wouldn't even sustain life if it was the only comestible on the face of the earth.
"Not really." Came a muffled reply from inside the pantry. "Since I'm here first, I was just going to make dinner." There was a pause, then Katie reappeared holding a can of green beans and a bag of chips. "Seriously?" She cocked her head to the side just so, and Marshall felt his heart warm. She was like a tiny, brunette version of Mary. His very southern mother would have called her a hundred pounds of piss and vinegar, and Marshall made a mental note to call his mother tonight at some point.
"She calls this grocery shopping?" The look in her eyes was something akin to accusatory, and he found himself hoping that he was not about to find himself on the receiving end of a Mary Shannon-style explosion.
"Mary's not what you would call "domestic."" Marshall placated, inwardly laughing at her expression. "How about we run to a grocery store? Mary'll probably be another hour or so." Inprocessing was a long, tedious business. He tried not to think about it. Mary hated inprocessiong, and he felt more than a little guilty about leaving her there to do it alone. Stan was probably around the office somewhere, so that make things a little better. Still...
"I don't want to take up that much of your time." She shook her head and tossed the chips back into the pantry. "I think I saw some mashed potato mix somewhere. If she has any seasonings, maybe I can do something with that. Does she have ground beef?" Now she was nosing around the freezer.
"You'd be more likely to find a seven course dinner in there." Marshall called after her. "Try the bottom shelf. Sometimes she has a pizza or one of those microwave dinners in there." The explosion he had anticipated never came, and Katie's reply to his last comment quelled the fear that had been nagging in the back of him mind. Katie seemed to have a much tighter rein on her outbursts, and none of this was apparently directed toward him. What was it about Mary that made him not mind her outbursts? He didn't have time to contemplate the intricacies of their relationship right now. There was a hungry woman standing in front of him, and his Texan sense of chivalry wasn't about to just up and leave her there to starve.
"I am NOT feeding Mary TV dinners!" Her voice was so indignant it would have made him laugh, save for the serious expression on her face.
This was not quite where he thought the conversation would be going. Feed MARY TV dinners. Okay. Marshall could work with that. "Calm down." He tried to not laugh out loud. "There's a market a few blocks away. Let's go."
"I can't." Katie protested. "I've taken up enough of your time already. Oh, I'm so sorry!" She exclaimed suddenly, as she started shoving him toward the front door. "I didn't mean to keep you from your plans! I'm sorry. I'm fine here."
Marshall sidestepped her tiny hands as she made a final push. "Woah! Hang on a minute. I don't have any plans. Let me take you to the store." He held both of his hands up, palms out in mock surrender.
"If you take me to the store, you have to agree to stay for dinner." Katie drove a hard bargain…sort of.
"I might." Then again, he needed to clear up a few things first. "Do you cook better than Mary?" He was many things, but suicidal wasn't one of them. Not tonight.
"Much." She assured him seriously. "I'm no Julia Child, but then, who is?"
Marshall opened his mouth to tell her, but she silenced him. "I don't wanna know, okay? It's just a saying." Her eyes were dancing, and Marshall got the feeling that Mary had divulged many of the pertinent details about him to her cousin. Or maybe they really were just THAT similar. His gut told him it was the latter
"After you." He had a feeling that he was going to enjoy having Mary's little cousin around for a while.
"Jesus, what's that smell?" Mary announced her presence characteristically, shooting a fake angry face toward her partner.
"It's called "food," Mare. Maybe you're not accustomed to it being inside your actual dwelling, but in some cultures it's customary to have forms of nutrition and sustenance available at particular times of day to be consumed with family or friends. It's called a meal, and it's supposed to consist of something other than Lays."
"Those were Baked Lays." She defended her comestible choices , as if the baked aspect made them a wiser choice, with an elbow to his ribs as she sniffed the pot he was stirring. "And you better not've eaten them all."
"Your chips are safe with me." He assured her, hand stilling as she bent down to smell.
"Where's Katie?" She glanced around, puzzled.
"Shower." He knew he needn't explain. Mary always showered first thing after landing. She swore that airplane stench stuck to her.
"How'd she sucker you into…" Her jab was cut short by a very recognizable high-pitched squeal.
"Mary!" Katie bounced into the kitchen and wrapped her arms around her stunned cousin.
Marshall nearly fainted as he watched his normally personal-contact-o-phobic partner drop her mandatory three feet of personal space in all directions bubble and reciprocate to hug her cousin warmly.
"Lil' Squirt!" Mary rocked left and right, still embracing her favorite relative. "How was your flight? And you put Marshall to work. I knew I loved you best for a reason."
"He's actually quite handy in the kitchen." Katie stated matter of factly.
"Let me look at you." Mary took a step back and held Katie at arm's length, one hand on each shoulder. "Are you ever going to age?" Katie looked nearly exactly as she had at fifteen.
"I have a grey hair, look." She some of her hair back and pointed to a place on her scalp. "I think there's some in there."
Mary leaned forward and mussed Katie's hair. "Nope." She groaned in fake annoyance as she first pushed away, then hugged her again. "You're still twelve and bugging me to teach you how to drive."
"I thought you were three years older?" Marshall couldn't stop the words before they were out of his mouth. His brain just did the math so fast, and the rest of the conclusions followed naturally. He couldn't be expected to contain ALL his thoughts now. Right? "How…?"
"She didn't say I was legal to drive." Mary corrected with a mischievous look on her face.
"Not that that ever stopped you." Katie reminded her, and Marshall envied the honest, pure laugh that her comment elicited from Mary. She rarely laughed with complete abandon. He'd witness it only a select few times, and most of those instances had been instigated by him. Mary had a beautiful laugh. It sounded like what he had always imagined the color yellow would sound like. Not mustard yellow or sandy yellow. Bright, summery, lemon yellow. Happy. Sweet and tart at the same time.
"Stop." Mary admonished. "You're gonna give Marshall the wrong idea about me."
"Oh, I wouldn't worry about that." He grinned cheekily. "She already told me about your pyromaniac tendencies. Such a misspent youth." He tsked her.
"That was an accident." She protested, shooting Katie a glare that would have dissolved a lesser human being. Katie, already immune to such a countenance responded only by shrugging and checking the oven.
"Traitor." She hissed at Katie jokingly.
"Oh, come one." Katie huffed right back without missing a beat. "Give the man some credit. He's already figured out that you're cracked. And a rebel."
"I've always preferred maverick." Mary corrected as she narrowed her eyes and made a face at first Katie, then Marshall in an attempt to quell any retort that he might feel compelled to add. Marshall had the grace to turn his head to hide the grin as he witnessed their banter.
"That's just because you've always had a thing for Tom Cruise in Top Gun." Katie shouldered her cousin and scooted her out of the way. "Not that I blame you. I mean, come on. Dress whites? Gold wings?" She giggled as Marshall sputtered and choked back the pressure that was building in his chest. These two were something individually, but together? He'd never seen Mary like this before.
"You had a thing for Pierce Brosnan!" Marshall heard Mary incriminate her younger cousin. " All I heard for months was "let's go see James Bond!"" Mary accused.
"So did you!" Katie retorted as she took the casserole out of the oven. "And you're not one to talk, you know. Remember your Hootie and the Blowfish phase?"
"Kenny G!" Mary volleyed back indignantly.
"New Kids on the Block!" Katie said with finality, hands on her hips. "When they were kids!"
Marshall gave up all pretense of decorum and burst out laughing at Katie's last retort. The daggers in Mary's eyes could have killed him, but the corners of her mouth tilted upward just a hair, and he knew she wasn't actually angry.
"New Kids on the Block, Mare?" He was loving the newer, softer, dorkier side of Mary. "I didn't know you had such refined musical tastes as a teen."
"She had the sweat shirt and the Trapper Keeper and everything." Katie assured him.
"Did you…"
"Stuff it." She warned, and he almost did.
"Were you a Vanilla Ice fan, too?" He pushed, earning him a snicker and a nod from Katie. "Oh, my God, you were."
"Trekkie." She hissed at Katie when Marshall's back was turned.
"Live long, and prosper, Mary." Katie shot back.
"Yeah, well be poor, die young."
"Ladies, am I going to have to separate you two?" He turned and found them both doubled over in laughter, arms wrapped around one another. This was the kind of emotional support Mary needed right now, he thought to himself. Hell, this was the kind of person Mary just plain needed in her life period. Someone who just loves her. Katie adored Mary, that much was obvious, and it appeared as though the feeling was very, very mutual.
"No, I promise." Katie was laughing so hard she could barely choke out the words. "We'll be good."
Mary was amazed at how the mere presence of her cousin could reduce her to no more than an awkward teenager again. It was good to have her around.
Katie kept her promise to Marshall, he was more than willing to admit. The girl could cook. It was obviously a quick meal, but it was edible, and resembled food. This was more than he could say for the Mary's last attempt to feed him. He could still taste the odd combination of charred and undercooked hamburger, and the Chinese food they'd ordered in had done little to cleanse his palate of the sensation. Even today, his stomach turned a little at the thought of burgers – not quite enough to actually prevent him from eating them, but a little. He at least thought twice about ordering one now.
When dinner was over, Katie scurried into the kitchen to start washing up when Mary hip checked her away from the sink.
"What are you doing?" She asked incredulously.
"Washing the dishes." Katie deadpanned.
"Why?"
"'Cause they don't have arms and opposable thumbs to do it themselves."
"No, why are YOU doing the dishes?" Mary clarified.
"That was the deal, remember?" Katie reminded her, dishtowel paused mid-plate. "You let me stay here until I find a place rent-free, and I cook and clean for you."
"You're not my maid, Jesus!" Mary was unaccustomed to people waiting on her. Attending to her needs.
"I'm also not a freeloader." Katie resumed her cleaning, but turned and looked over her shoulder. "Besides, I think we'll both live longer if I do the cooking. I've eaten your food."
Marshall's eyes grew as large as saucers when he heard the latest volley, but Mary seemed to see the wisdom in it.
"Fine. You can cook. But don't clean. Just…don't."
"I will, and you can't stop me."
"Impossible girl!" She wasn't really mad. It was nice to have someone around that didn't need looking after.
"Obstinate woman!" Katie shouted as Mary followed Marshall into the living room.
"I like her!" Marshall whispered to Mary once he was sure they were out of earshot. She knew how to handle Mary, and was the only person he'd ever seen not back down to her. Not even once.
"Of course you do." Mary muttered. "You two were hatched out of the same pod."
"Pods don't technically hatch, per se." He knew the reaction this would garner, and he did it for effect this time. Well, he did it for effect a lot. Exasperating Mary had become something of a pastime to Marshall. "They split and open, and typically contains things like legumes or seeds. Eggs, on the other hand, have animals of some sort living inside of them which pecks or pokes its way out. The chrysalis of a butterfly or moth, while similar to an egg, does not open by hatching, even though the organism that built it was hatched from an egg. The process is called "emergence," and when it is completed the caterpillar has metamorphosed into a butterfly." He took a moment to reflect on the similarities of butterflies and his blonde friend. Both came into the world small and relatively helpless. A series of traumas and heartaches followed, but when they got to the other side, they emerged beautiful and victorious. Mary.
"Marshall?"
"Yeah?" He shook himself out of his reverie. Maybe Mary was right. He did think too much.
"Shut up." She shook her head at him, and he just smiled. Butterflies have some defenses, too.
I hope that this clears thing up. There is no Marshall/Katie angle here. M/M all the way.