Chapter 4 –Kissing Cousins

Brandi pulled up short as she came down the hallway and saw Marshall standing by the kitchen door, Mary closer to him than she usually was with, well, anyone, smiling up at him. Marshall crooked a finger through a belt loop and tugged, pulling her in so they were touching. Well, this was very interesting. She flattened herself against the wall and watched with unconcealed interest as Mary lifted her head and Marshall stroked her jaw with one long finger, then grasped her chin in a light hold and bent down to kiss her.

Not a 'give it to me now Big Mama' kiss, but sweet, innocent. His lips lingered and Mary didn't push him away. Brandi nearly barked in disbelief when she saw Mary's arms snake up around his neck. She kissed him back, the same gentle kiss full of affection.

Brandi had a good view of Marshall's face and she saw his feelings written plain as day. He grinned down at Mary, whispered something in her ear, then turned and opened the door, walking out into the sultry air of dusk.

Mary stood a moment by the door, grinning like a fool, then tried to shake it off, turning to see Brandi standing right behind her.

"So, you and Marshall huh? Spill."

Mary jumped in surprise. "Jeez, Squish. What are you sneaking up behind me for?" She hadn't even realized Brandi was home.

"What was that? With you and Marshall?" Brandi was almost gleeful, Mary thought, casting a baleful eye on her. Brandi's avid interest was not something she wished to deal with.

"It was nothing. Just a kiss. I've been out of town for a week. We haven't seen each other. He's my best friend." Mary took in Brandi's knowing gaze with displeasure. It was true. She'd been with Judy all week and her last nerve was just about frazzled. She had missed Marshall more that she thought possible. When she got back into the office she had to restrain herself from throwing her arms around him.

"What! It was nothing. Don't make this into something," Mary huffed as Brandi hooked her arm through her sister's and shook her head.

"I saw the man's face, Mary, after he kissed you, and you kissed back I might add. It wasn't nothing. He's in love with you."

Mary spluttered and tried to get a coherent, intelligent sentence out, but Brandi beat her to it.

"You know, he was a total wreck after you got shot. Haunted the hospital, tried to keep me and Mom from falling apart. The man cried for you. Did you know that? He was there more than Raph was. He spent nights there, holding your hand. I came in a couple times early, before you came out of the coma, and he was sleeping in the chair while holding onto you for dear life. He loves you, Mary."

Mary slumped down into a chair and leaned her elbows on the island, holding her head.

"I know he loves me, Brandi. I don't know if he's in love with me though. I love him too, but I don't think I'm in love with him." Her voice was weary, defeated. This new information about Marshall was unsettling and disturbing the carefully set up explanation she was developing for their evolving relationship. Friends could kiss, she knew. It didn't have to mean anything deeper than an expression of friendship. She had a nagging feeling, though, that friends shouldn't look forward to it the way she did. That friends shouldn't feel the pressure of lips pressed against one's own for hours afterwards, like she did. That friends shouldn't dream about those kisses turning into a Frenchfest, like she did.

"Would it be such a terrible thing if he did love you? He's your best friend, plus he's kinda hot. What's the down side?" Mary looked up at Brandi's earnest face with sad eyes.

What if he leaves?

The drive back after handing Walter over to his new inspector was largely silent. Mary was grateful for the space Marshall was giving her. She was conflicted by her own feelings towards her father that had been stirred up and reluctant to examine the reasons she had never tried to find him.

Maybe Marshall was right. Maybe she should try to locate him. She had the resources available to her, although she had an uncomfortable feeling that Rabbi Garfinkel would be far more effective at locating someone than the federal government.

They stopped at a small diner for supper, Mary so engrossed in her own thoughts she didn't notice Marshall had ordered for her until a plate with burger and fries was placed in front of her. She raised confused eyes to him and he smiled.

"I know my witnesses. I know my partner. I think you'll find everything to your liking." Reaching across the laminate surface of the table, he took her hand and gave it a brief squeeze. Mary removed the bun top and inspected the burger: mustard, tomato, pickles. He did know her. That was another whole issue she needed to spend some time thinking about, but not right now.

It was late when they arrived back into Albuquerque. Traffic was light and Marshall pulled up in front of his partner's house shortly after midnight. Cutting the engine and stepping out, he pulled Mary's go bag from the back of the GMC. He walked with her to the front door, waiting while she unlocked it, then placed the bag in the entryway.

Mary watched him, noted the slight hesitation. "I'm fine Marshall. Just have some things to think about." Again the hesitation before he spanned her waist with one large hand and drew her towards him. Giving her ample opportunity to pull away, more so than if he had put his arms around her for a hug. Mary didn't pull away.

They looked at each other under the pale yellow spill of light from the entryway. Both feeling the attraction, feeling the pull, feeling the want. Mary was aware of the stillness of the neighborhood, as if every home was waiting; waiting to see what she would do. She watched his Adams apple bob, recognizing that he felt nervous.

Placing her hand flat against the smooth green cotton of his shirt, she could faintly feel the rhythm of his heart under her palm. An unexpected desire to lay her head on his shoulder and allow her body to sink into him hit her. She bit her lip, knew she should pull back. When Marshall's other hand came to rest on her hip, casually caging her in his light grasp, Mary rose up on her toes and pressed trembling lips to his.

This was okay, she told herself. They'd been kissing good night for a quite awhile now. It was just part of the routine. It was a brief touch, like you'd kiss your brother or your cousin. Marshall's hands tightened slightly around her waist, pulling her in just a little closer. And instead of the release he usually employed after one of their light pecks, he kissed back.

Soft, but firm; light pressure encouraging openness to him; lips complying and parting. Dark head lifting slightly; loss of contact bringing sharp disappointment, a noise of distress from her throat. Lazy smile followed by heavenly contact once more; pressure delightful. Hands curling around his shoulders. Gentle, feather light sweeping of his tongue over her lips. Sharp intake of breath. Eyes dilating to deep forest green; hearts hammering. Regret flashing across his face as he disengaged and stepped back, reluctantly dropping his hands from her waist.

"I'll see you tomorrow, okay?" Only a barely noticeable tremor in his voice. Mary nodded wordlessly and watched him amble back to his GMC, open the door and give her a wave before getting inside. She stood in the open doorway long after the sound of the truck's engine had faded.

That is not how you kiss your brother. What are we doing?

Mary sat on top of a picnic table, watching with pleasure as the two tall figures played in front of her. The light breeze was a welcome relief after the day's heat. Marshall was instructing Danny on the finer points of shuttlecock delivery and it was all Mary could do to restrain herself from laughing out loud. He had set up a backyard net in the neighborhood park and had commenced with the lessons several weeks ago.

Mary gave an appreciative eye to the two lithe men swinging their rackets and hitting the hell out of the poor little birdie. Mary idly wished that Marshall had worn shorts like Danny had. She'd rather like to see his legs. As the returns became increasingly aggressive, Mary's mouth turned down in a slight frown. Marshall had come to the net earlier in the match and waved Danny over. Placing a hand on his shoulder, he had spoken earnestly in a low voice to the young man. Mary couldn't hear what he said, but Danny had nodded and then thrown a contemplative glance her way. After that, the game ratcheted up.

As the grunts became louder and the shuttlecock flew faster, it dawned on Mary that this was a therapeutic exercise in working off frustration. Her eyes narrowed at Marshall as he slammed the birdie over the net, earning the point. Just exactly how frustrated was he?

Danny had quickly picked up the basics and was quite good. Mary could see that it was far more than just a childhood game. Maybe she would even be willing to go see a competitive match one day.

It warmed Mary's heart to see how Danny looked up to Marshall. He was getting along well with the Meads, but would be off to college in a few weeks and his foster family would no longer have responsibility for him. Marshall was keeping a close eye on his young witness, helping him through this new transition.

Her head popped up when she heard Marshall crow in triumph before dropping to the ground in exhaustion. Danny walked over and clasped the upstretched hand in congratulations, then bent over, hands on knees, and attempted to get his breathing back to normal. Mary watched her two sweaty men in amusement, then realized she was going to have to ride in the car with both of their ripe bodies.

Pulling towels out of her partner's, oh dear Lord help me, Star Trek duffel bag, Mary tossed them over to the two men collapsed flat out on the slightly brown grass of the park. Reaching back into the bag, she withdrew two bottles of water and walked over, waited for the outstretched arms, and shoved a bottle in each.

Returning to her perch on the picnic table, Mary rustled in the bag again, searching for another bottle of water and stilled as her fingers closed around a very familiar shape. Slowly opening the zippered top of the duffel a little wider, she stared at her hand in the bag, fingers closed around the square packet of a condom. Huh. Well, good to be prepared, she supposed. Her eyes turned towards Marshall, still laying on the ground. But who are you needing to be prepared for? Her brain screamed the question at her.

Their relationship was fluid and while her mind skittered away from direct contemplation of their evolving friendship, she readily acknowledged that there was little reason for Marshall to think he would be needing that condom with her anytime soon. Marshall didn't do one night stands. He just didn't. He was too caught up in the emotional aspects of a relationship; he demanded an emotional involvement before a physical involvement. So...it wasn't for her, it wasn't for a chance encounter. So that left...

Mary shut her eyes as an unexpected wave of pain hit her. Really, would he? Would he be seeing someone else at the same time he was oh so gently pressing onward with their relationship? Moving it forward by nudges and bumps. No, she couldn't believe that. Maybe it was old, had been in the bag for years? No, Marshall would fastidiously clean his bag out after every use.

She opened her eyes to find the subject of her contemplation standing beside her with an odd expression on his face. He reached over and firmly grasped her wrist, turning her hand. She felt his intent gaze boring into her and she let her fist open, the crinkly little packet sitting in her palm. Caught redhanded.

She tried to work up a measure of indignation, of snark, to come up with a clever retort, make some comment about his love life; but she had nothing. Looking into eyes that were strangely blank, Mary felt a cold tendril of fear in her stomach.

"We'll talk later," he said in a low pitched voice, before turning to Danny and motioning towards the GMC.

"Great game, Danny. Time to get you back home now. Are we on for next Saturday?"

Marshall dropped Danny off in front of the Meads small ranch house, then headed back not towards Mary's house, but out of the city. He pulled over when he reached the foothills of the Sandia Mountains and got out, coming around to offer Mary a hand as she warily jumped down. An old fashioned, gentlemanly gesture that Mary secretly liked.

He took her hand and led her down one of the paths, the deepening gloaming casting a magical light on the surrounding mountains. Mary was reluctant to say anything, completely unsure of where Marshall's head was. He stopped in a clearing and pulling a rolled up microfleece from the backpack she hadn't realized he was carrying, spread it on the ground and gestured for her to sit down.

"Marshall," she began, but he hushed her, dropping down beside her and tilting his head up to study the faint stars that were beginning to appear. He pulled a bottle of water from his pack, casually took a swig and offered it to Mary. She took it blindly and took a drink, wishing for something a little stronger.

Faint noises impinged on Mary's awareness; the rustle of leaves, crickets chirping, some unidentified insect buzzing around her head. She sat with trepidation in her heart, but somehow unable to do anything but wait for Marshall.

"You found the condom in my bag." It was a flat statement, directed to the vast open space around them. He eased back on his elbows, continuing to study the sky. Mary waited. There wasn't really a point in responding, They both knew she had seen it.

"I do date, Mary. On occasion, I even have sex. I'm not stupid and I don't take risks." His voice was measured, the words chosen with care, the rebuke subtle but there nonetheless.

"I know." It was so soft, the faint wind barely carried the words to his ears. He turned his head to look at her in the faint light from the remnants of the setting sun.

"You are worried about the timing of this. We are moving," he hesitated, groping for the right words, "somewhere new with our relationship. Our friendship is evolving. You know me, Mary. Not as well as I know you, but still. You know we are not at that point with what we have between us that a condom would be required. You know I don't engage in one night stands. You're wondering about the meaning of that little piece of latex."

Mary sat stock still, momentarily hating him because he could crawl inside her head like that. She felt he was expecting something of her and she groped blindly to identify what it could be. Marshall waited, his infinite patience a burr in her backside. He wasn't going to say anything further until she figured it out. Her stomach rumbled, bringing a smile to his lips and a frown of chagrin to hers.

"I wondered if you were seeing someone and hadn't told me." The words stuck in her craw like peanut butter. "I felt jealous of that possibility, hurt. I thought...I thought..." Her hands made an impatient gesture as she tried to get the words out. Marshall covered her hands with his and her whole body stilled.

"What did you think?" He was gentle in tone and voice.

"Don't you know already? Seeing as how you live in my head?" She was sharper than she meant to be, fear and discomfort making her lash out. He was lightly rubbing his thumbs over the backs of her hands. Mary sighed and tried again.

"I thought we were heading somewhere with this, whatever it is between us, and..." Her voice trailed off as a new thought occurred to her and she looked up, tried to discern his eyes in the darkness. "Marshall, was that condom even yours?"

She didn't see so much as feel his smile. "That's my girl, bringing your brain power to bear. No, it wasn't. It's Danny's. We've had some sex talks recently. He needs someone to confide in. He has accepted he will never see Rachel again. He's a confused young man, with a new girlfriend and a lot of guilt. He wanted to have some just in case, but didn't want to keep them at the Meads. So I told him to toss 'em in my bag until he got things figured out. Guess the box must have come open."

Mary exhaled in relief, feeling almost faint. He wasn't seeing somebody else. She looked down at him, stretched out on the ground. He drew her down beside him, giving a gentle but firm tug on her arm.

"Look at that," he whispered, pointing up at the rapidly filling sky, as new stars blinked into view. Mary rested her head on his shoulder and listened to him talk about the constellations, gradually focusing just on the rumble of his voice and not his words. His arm was around her, her head pillowed on his chest, he was spouting trivia about far away places and the space-time continuum. She was happy.

"I'm sorry, Marshall," she murmured as she felt his lips brush over her forehead. "I shouldn't have doubted you."

"No, you shouldn't. You can trust me completely, Mary. I would sooner cut off a limb than hurt you. The fact that you felt jealous gives me hope though." He kissed her, then pulled back, his fingers lightly exploring her face trying to discern her expression through his touch.

Mary allowed the feather light strokes, recognizing he needed to know what she was feeling, the inky darkness preventing them from seeing each other. And what was she feeling? A curl of tenderness towards the man beside her was unfolding in her heart. Her hand slipped around his neck and she pulled his head down, their lips meeting in unhurried exploration.

Light brushes evolved into firmer kisses. Mary was amazed at how Marshall managed to explore her mouth while keeping from deepening the kisses. He nudged her lips apart and Mary felt the controlled restraint in him. One hand slid up her torso, coming to rest against her breast. His touch was so ethereal she couldn't tell if he was actually touching her or if he was hovering, the warmth of his palm palpable through her clothes. His breath exhaled over her as he fit his mouth to hers, then quickly flicked his tongue over her lips before pulling back regretfully.

Rolling onto his back, his arm around Mary's shoulder, he pointed out the Big Dipper. Mary jabbed him in the ribs as she informed him that was one constellation she could actually locate herself. She felt his head turn towards her in the darkness and then felt his lips at her ear.

"I can help you locate all kinds of things," he whispered, drawing her hand over to place flat on his chest. She lay in his arms on the hard ground, feeling the steady beat of his heart under her hand, thinking she may have just found pure happiness.