Author's Note: Here is chapter nine. I borrowed the characters for my own amusement, but promise to return them unscathed when I'm finished. I would like to extend a warm thank you to all who generously write the kind reviews. I appreciate the time you take to write them. Reviews brighten my day more than they probably should, so if you don't mind, feel free to keep them coming! Thanks to everyone who's still reading, too. I'm always a little astounded when people read my stuff. Thanks again. Here's the improved, extended chapter nine.
Mary fiddled with her luggage as she waited in line to check in. She'd already had to bite her tongue to keep from making some kid in the hallway cry when he annoyed her. The truth was, he wasn't that annoying, she was just in THAT bad a mood. Marshall had whispered "play nice" in her ear when he saw her steaming, so she'd just shut her mouth and moved on. His soft "good girl" made her eyes roll as they followed the cheap paper arrows towards the desk. Apparently it had never occurred to the feds that if they are planning on having three or four hundred people check in at once it might be appropriate to send more than one moron to staff the desk. She shared her thoughts with Marshall, who chuckled and rubbed her back affectionately for a short while.
"All right, Mary Sunshine." His voice was low, but he was smiling at her. He removed his hand, and Mary was surprised to discover that she missed its warmth. There was a cool spot on her back now where his hand had been.
Marshall checked them in, a cautionary hand on Mary's forearm while he dealt with the bureaucratic inefficiencies. She took the opportunity to scan the room, praying she didn't find anyone she recognized. Anonymity was a blessing, and that was a lesson she'd learned the hard way. She wasn't quite certain she could handle seeing Agent Asshole O'Connor, and she was still conflicted about Faber. The coast appeared clear, and Marshall heard as she let out the breath she'd been holding in a long, slow exhale. His brain had already put it all together, and while she'd been ranting in line in an effort to appear as much like herself as possible given the circumstances, he'd scoped out the place before her. He was going to have to keep her close, just in case, so he could run interference if necessary. Or so she could. He wasn't at all certain that he could be responsible for his actions if they happened upon O'Connor. There were very few people in the world that Marshall just plain hated. He considered himself a relatively peaceful man. Didn't hold grudges. Quick to forgive. Readily extend the benefit of the doubt. But not to that particular piece of human crap. His sister in law would call O'Connor a boil on the butt of humanity, and he was inclined to agree. As for Faber, the mere thought made Marshall's blood run a few degrees colder in his veins. He saw the sleazy man as competition, and he was onto the agent's tricks. He would use Mary. Tell her what he figured she wanted to hear. Give big gifts and make grand gestures because he'd never bother to get to know her. And because she was Mary, and because deep inside her, her heart was a little shattered, and as much as she'd kick your ass for saying otherwise, he knew that she desperately wanted – no, needed someone to try to fill the void. She tried so hard to feel whole again, and Marshall had a good enough read on Faber to know that he would not fill any holes. He would only use for her his own benefit, and leave in his wake holes even larger, shattered even more as she learned once again not to trust. He'd worked too hard to give her up like that.
"Your room key." He handed Mary the lanyard with the key, key chain, and building swipe card on it. "And your packet."
She took the items and squared her shoulders, but hesitated a moment before speaking. "Let's get going then."
He followed behind her, scanning the crowd as they went. Each O'Connor and Faber-free step lifted the lead weight in his stomach a bit. But only a bit. Quantico was a big place, and each of the dreaded men were no doubt more familiar with it than he. Maybe they should have stayed in hotels. Away from the fray and the crowd.
"I think I'm this way." He pointed down a long hallway when he found room numbers matching the one on the keychain.
"I'm up. I think." Mary's keychain read 329, so it was likely she was on the third floor. "I'll see ya."
Marshall watched as she strode off in search of stairs, only turning when she had disappeared from sight.
"Ugh." Mary grunted as she heaved her luggage up two flights of stairs. "Sorry." She moved her bags to the side and stood sideways to allow others to pass by her. "F-ing feds won't even spring for elevators in their mother humping dorms." She swore to herself as she finally reached the top.
The door to room 329 was already open, and Mary approached cautiously, peering around the door jamb warily before walking in. It was a double.
"Well, hello there!" Someone greeted cheerfully, and Mary visibly winced.
"Hello?"
"I'm Cecelia Gleason, and I'm your roommate! But you can call me Cici. Everyone does." The blonde woman fairly bounced over to Mary and hugged her. "Fun, huh? Just like a big slumber party. I took this bed," She pointed to the mattress with luggage and clothes strewn all over. "So that one's all yours!"
Mary had yet to move or make a sound as she tried to process.
"So, tell me about yourself!" Cici standing on the bed now, tacking a poster of kittens on the wall. "What's your name? Where're you from? I just love this poster, don't you? I take it with me everywhere I go. It's so cute. It just makes me happy to look at it."
"Cute, yeah." Mary finally made a sound. It made her gag a little too look at it, then shook her head and looked Cecelia in the eye with a smile as genuine as she could muster. "I'm sorry, could you excuse me for just a moment. I have to make a very important phone call."
"Oh, of course!" She jumped down from the bed and landed on her feet with a bounce that reminded Mary of the dimwitted cheerleaders from high school. "Calling your husband, I bet?" She grabbed Mary's left hand only to have it jerked back from her grasp. "Or boyfriend." She smiled an obnoxiously annoying smile and bounced back to her luggage to continue unpacking.
Mary hit speed dial, grabbed her luggage, and stalked back to the stairs.
"Bubba's roadkill café. You kill it, we grill it." Marshall's voice greeted her.
"Where are you?" She demanded, in no mood to play.
"My room." He shrugged.
"Number?"
"Why?"
"What's your freaking room number, Marshall. I'm not in the freaking mood."
He sighed. Something had gone wrong. "143." He prayed it wasn't O'Connor. He really didn't want to have to kill a man this week.
"I'll see you in a minute." She hung up the phone before he could respond.
A pounding on his door alerted him to Mary's presence a few minutes later. He swung the door open to find his partner fuming, and accompanied by all her luggage.
"Mare?" He questioned as she pushed past him into the room.
"Good. It's a single." She surveyed the room and dropped her carry-on to the floor.
"Mare?" He tried again, not at all certain what was happening.
"I'm staying with you." She announced as she arranged her bags against the wall, then opened one and started rooting through it.
"If I'm not mistaken, you have a room. Somewhere else. Not in here."
"Yeah. I'm not staying there." She still offered no explanation.
"Mary?" He leaned against the desk and tried to catch up.
"I can't stay there, Marshall. I can't share a freaking cell with Blondy McBimbo. I'll strangle her in her sleep right underneath that goddamn kitten poster. So I'm staying here. Consider it a public service."
She painted a compelling picture, especially the part about the kitten poster. Still.
"Mare, this is the men's floor. No women. Not to mention I paid for this room…"
"Jesus, Marshall. I'll pay half the freaking room if you want. I'll even sleep on the freaking floor. Just don't make me go back up there. Stan said we have to play nice, and I can NOT be nice to that."
Secretly Marshall was pleased that she taken the time to realize her own weaknesses, and honestly he wouldn't mind her being here. It would make her easier to keep an eye on. To keep people away from her. And spending a little time with his partner in this kind of manner might not be so terrible.
"Mary, I…"
"Public service, Marshall. Protect and serve or some crap, right?"
He sighed. He never had a chance. Like he could say no. "You can stay."
"Yes." She breathed. "Thank you. You won't even know I'm here."
"Somehow, I doubt that." He said under his breath, but loud enough for her to hear as he sank onto the twin sized bed.
"I heard that."
Marshall just grinned and kicked his boots off as he lay down for a minute to relax. Maybe the seminar wouldn't be as bad as he'd thought. Everything was more entertaining with Mary around. She had a way of badgering those around her whom she deemed incompetent into magnificent displays of just that incompetency. It made for good entertainment.
She puttered around the room for a few minutes, organizing her things in a small area on the window sill, thoughtfully out of his way. He must have dozed off for a few minutes, because when he awoke, Mary had her laptop out, and was sitting on the floor with her back against the wall typing away. A quick glance at the clock propelled him to sit up.
"Mary." He called, not sure how loud the volume in her headphones was. "Mary." Louder this time.
"Morning, sleeping beauty." She took one ear bud out.
"You hungry?" He motioned toward the clock on the night stand, then wondered how she'd been quiet enough for him to sleep. She wasn't inconsiderate of him. She wouldn't be noisy on purpose (unless she was mad at him), he just didn't figure she'd actually be all that quiet. She was on edge here at Quantico, but maybe staying here in his room was helping her relax somewhat. He could give her that. He would give her anything.
"What's around here?" She asked. "Oh, hang on. I can Google it. What do you feel like?"
Marshall sank down beside her on the floor and they picked out an eatery. He scribbled down the address, rose, and pulled her up beside him.
"There you are! I was wondering what happened to you!" A familiar voice called out as they walked to the car. "That phone call must have been interesting, I've been looking for you all day!"
Mary gritted her teeth as Cindy or Cicely or whatever rushed over to them.
"Where did you go?" She pressed. "I was hoping we could hang out. You know, get to know each other better. If we're going to be roomies, then I want to know everything about you!"
Marshall suddenly understood the urgency of her staying with him. Things would end poorly if she had to spend much time alone with this…person. He could practically hear her teeth grinding in her head as she fought to restrain herself from vomiting on the girl's pink running shoes. Jesus, he noted. They really were pink. In another lifetime, he might have been attracted to this girl. Her curly blonde hair and overt femininity may have caught his eye. She had a decent figure, was even fairly attractive. But after Mary he knew he'd never view another woman quite the same. Mary was all woman. Unapologetically beautiful without even trying. He wondered when he'd become that guy. The one that sits around and pines for a girl who doesn't even know he exists. When had he become the sad puppy sitting at her feet in the hopes of being thrown a scrap of a treat? He couldn't pull himself away from her if he'd tried, though. He was inexplicably tied to her.
He turned his attention back to the women, and noticed the girl whispering something loudly in Mary's ear. It sounded something like "who's the dish," and he bit back a smile as Mary glared at him for not putting a stop to this.
"Look, it's really good to see you, but I'm…" She stopped herself just shy of saying "hungry." To imply that they were getting food would open the door for what's her name to invite herself to come along. "We're really in a hurry. There's something we need to do."
"Oh. Okay!" Cici was only fazed for a moment. "I guess I'll see you later then! Have a good evening!"
"Yeah, you , too!" Mary faked friendliness until Cici was out of earshot, then added, "Freak."
"Blondy McBimbo, I presume?" Marshall waited for her to unlock the doors and made eye contact over the top of the car.
"In the flesh." She shook her head. How does a moron like that end up in law enforcement anyway?
"I see." He really did, too. Mary hated perky. Hell, he hated perky. Maybe she was rubbing off on him. He could think of worse things.
Dinner was fine. Italian and classy, but not fussy. The waiter recommended something, and they'd both ordered it. Marshall ordered a glass of red wine for each of them, and saw the way Mary tilted her head to the side and looked at him questioningly.
Rather than respond, he raised his glass in a toast. "To partners. And our combined attempts to not knock the heads off the Feds this week."
Mary grinned at him and raised her glass to his. "I'll drink to that. Cheers." She watched him over her wine class as he took a sip. He was her very closest friend. Ever. She had more fun doing nothing with him than she'd ever had doing anything with Raph. Why was that, she wondered.
The waiter brought out the check, and Marshall rose to retrieve his wallet from his back pocket when Mary waved him off. "I've got this, and could we get an order of tiramisu to go, please?"
Ignoring the question she knew he was trying to ask, she intervened. "How far is the beach?"
"We're a few minutes from the Potomac." Marshall offered.
"No." She shook her head. "The ocean. I want to see the ocean."
"Quite a ways." He'd looked at some maps before leaving New Mexico.
"Oh." She looked crestfallen.
"How about next Saturday?" He offered. They didn't fly home until Sunday, and there were no lectures or activities planned for Saturday that he didn't mind missing. Some picnic or something, but the look in Mary's eyes was one that he'd be willing to move heaven and earth to correct. "We can pack a lunch, make a day out of it."
"Yeah?" She hadn't actually thought he'd make a special trip if it was very far.
"Sure. I like the ocean, too." She smiled that smile that made him melt again, and he knew he'd made the right decision. "For now, why don't we get some sweet tea and head over to the river. We can eat the tiramisu on the banks of the Potomac. Probably a pretty good view, even if it's not the Atlantic."
Mary grinned, but replied sarcastically. "What makes you think I'm sharing my tiramisu with you? You should have ordered your own."
He laughed, but knew she was kidding. They would split the rich desert like they had many times before with pie, ice cream sundaes, too-big cupcakes, and flan.
"What about DC?" She asked him as she figured the tip and signed her name on the receipt. "I know you want to go drool at the Smithsonian while we're this close."
She had a point. He did. And a trip to DC would only take them in the opposite direction of the ocean. He loved the capital. The history of it. The monuments. It gave him a feeling of connection to the country. A sense of belonging. And the free museums truly were the icing on the cake. They filled his thirst for knowledge like a flood after a drought.
"We could try to change our tickets to fly our Monday." He offered, but knew it wouldn't work.
"Too expensive." Mary grabbed her purse and desert. "Plus, Stan's expecting us back on Monday. It might look suspicious if we both decide to take vacation while we're here."
She was right, of course. Stan had already questioned him in not so many words regarding the nature of his relationship with Mary on more than one occasion.
"Let's just go to DC on Saturday." Mary opened the door and held it for him. "You can go get your geek on, and I've never been to the capital before. You can show me around."
Her selfless gesture touched him. The yearning in her eyes a few minutes before when she spoke of the ocean told him that the trip to the shore would do more for her than just get sand in her shoes and salt in her hair. It meant more, and her concession spoke volumes.
"If we come back next year, we have to go to the beach then." He bargained. "So let's find a good place to sit by the river, okay?" He was mentally calculating the cost of flying to San Diego for the weekend when they got back, though. The calming repetition of waves lapping against the shoreline could be a healing salve for her soul, and he'd be damned if he would deny her. Surely this could be arranged.
They finally found a small park with a running trail along the banks of the river. Claiming a bench as their own, the pair sat and ate their desert. Marshall's eyes took in the view around him. Green trees and grass. Runners. Bikers. Children and dogs. A family a ways away were tossing a Frisbee around, and there were boats on the river. It was tranquil. He was so caught up in his own thoughts that he almost didn't hear Mary speak.
"I haven't heard from Katie." She confessed quietly.
Turning his full attention back to her, his gaze settled on her features. She was upset, but not angry. Concerned.
"I haven't called her, though." She added, embarrassed.
Marshall had spoken to her, but he was under orders to not tell Mary.
A knocking disturbed her from her work. Frowning and dropping her pen on the desk, she stood and walked to the door. The little peep hole was too high for her to use, so she had to yell.
"Who is it?"
"Marshall." The name floated across the door on a familiar voice.
The door flung open, and Marshall found himself being frowned at by a small woman.
"What are you doing here?" She asked as she ushered him inside.
"Checking on you." He offered, knowing he'd upset her. "Mary's worried. I just wanted to make sure you were in a safe neighborhood."
"I'm fine, and thank you, but you can't be here." She offered him a glass of water. It was summer, and the temperature was pushing 105 degrees.
"We're friends." He wasn't sure he followed.
"We ARE friends." Katie assured him. "But right now you need to be Mary's friend. Not mine. We'll work this out. And while we do, you need to be on Mary's side."
"I'm not on anyone's side." He protested.
"You have to be. I need you to be. You need to be on Mary's side." She tried to explain it to him. "Look, I'm not mad at Mary. I'm not mad at anyone. She told me she wanted me to go, so I did. When she cools off, I'll call her or something. We'll be fine. But you can't be here. You can't be my friend when Mary and I are having a thing. She'll see it as a betrayal."
He knew that. She would. That's why he hadn't told her he was visiting her cousin. He just hadn't known Katie would see that as well. Hell, of course she knew it. She never missed anything when it came to Mary.
"I'll go." He nodded in agreement as he looked around the small studio. "It's a good space." He observed.
"I'll get some furniture." She laughed. "Eventually."
"You're okay?" He asked again.
"I'm fine. How's Mary?"
"She misses you." He said simply.
"I miss her, too. I'll try to come by next week. She might not kick me out by then."
"We'll be gone next week." He remembered the seminar. "Try after."
"Okay. I will. Take care of her." She waved as left.
"I will." Or at least he'd try.
"I bet if you call her, she'd be glad to hear from you." He tried not to divulge too much even though he knew her cousin would be delighted to hear from her.
"I don't even know where she's living."
"It would be easy enough to find out." He may have misappropriated some government resources in his search, but Mary had a sort of truce with Dershowitz at ABQPD. If she asked nicely, Marshall had no doubt that the cop would help her out.
"Yeah." She sighed and fell silent as she stabbed a bit with a plastic fork. Several minutes of silence passed until she spoke again. "Tell me about the capital."
"Yeah?" It wasn't the request he was expecting.
"Yeah. What are we going to see?"
He smiled as he launched into a discussion about the architecture and monuments. The museums and parks. The history. She didn't interrupt him, even when he languored on about the influence of Georgian architecture at the White House. She sat quietly and absorbed his knowledge, let his voice flow over her and sooth her. She was okay. She was here. With Marshall. And everything would be okay. Things with Katie would be resolved; Brandi might someday straighten herself out. Jinx had an actual job and for once was doing a decent job of staying out of the bottle. And she had Marshall. Things would be okay.
Marshall tossed and turned that night. He was comfortable enough physically. Mary hadn't asked for the bed like he'd figured she would. She'd changed into her pajamas in the bathroom, and curled up in a ball in a corner on the floor with her back to him. He opened his eyes and watched her sleep. The air conditioning in the dorms was controlled by a thermostat in a different room. It was cold. He was cold, and he knew Mary had to be freezing. She had long sleeves and long pants on, but had at some point during the night grabbed his jacket and was using it as a blanket over her torso. She had a sweatshirt balled up to use as a pillow, and socks had appeared on her feet that hadn't been there when he'd gone to sleep. He wondered if she was used to sleeping without a mattress or blanket. Had she spent many nights like this as a child? Katie had alluded to something along those lines a few weeks ago, and he couldn't quite get the image out of his mind. If there had been blankets to be had, there was no doubt in his mind that she'd given them to Brandi. Her daddy told her to take care of her baby sister and she'd done her best, he knew, and she was still trying. Tiptoeing out of bed, he rummaged through his suitcase until he found a fleece jacket he'd packed. After sniffing it to make sure it was clean, he carefully draped it across her legs to add another layer of warmth. He'd have to remember to procure some extra blankets for both of them tomorrow. She'd either freeze to death or he'd give her his blankets, which just meant she'd kill him when she woke up and discovered it. She needed a pillow, too. Her neck would hurt if she had to use the shirt for the whole week for support. Brushing her hair off her shoulder, he gave her arm a squeeze and headed back to bed. What he really wanted to do was grab the blanket and pillow and curl right up behind her. Share some body heat. Keep her warm. But she'd rearrange his face or his crotch if he did that, so instead, he settled for watching her as she slumbered. This week would be interesting, that's for sure. He let out a sigh as he closed his eyes.
Mary was awake, but she didn't want her partner to know it. She felt him carefully place the jacket on her legs and the tender way he brushed her long hair out of her face. The affectionate squeeze, and the way his hands lingered on her arm. She heard the sighs. She just didn't know what to do about them. Yet.
A/N: That's all for now. I have to go study something. Feel free to review. Really.