Disclaimer: Don't own, so don't sue!

Author's Note: I'm settled back home, so you can all look forward to a more regular update schedule, probably alternating with my other story, West of the Pecos (hint hint, read that too!) Hooray! I was hoping to find some inspiration while I was staying in the home where I lived as a teenager, but I ended up realizing why I spent my teen years feeling so uninspired. Oh, well. I hope you enjoy this update! =)

Fish Out of Water

Chapter 9

The crisp chill of the winter wind bit Marshall's face, causing him to snug his scarf more tightly about his chin. He stood at the corner, waiting for the sisters. He'd gotten back into town the evening before, only just in time to go back to school; a series of freak snowstorms had blanketed much of the northeast and had nearly gotten his flight cancelled. As it was, he'd been delayed. He tried calling Mary once he was back but he'd missed her, and he hadn't wanted to call again because he didn't want to cause trouble for Mary by calling too late and incurring the wrath of her doubtlessly inebriated mother.

Another flurry had hit in the night. Roads were clear so unfortunately the schools didn't call a snow day, but sidewalks and driveways were banked with snow both new and remaining from the previous week, only a handful shoveled so far. He squinted at the dazzling light reflecting from the snow; he was himself from a considerably warmer climate, and the frosty surroundings intrigued him even as he found the cold off-putting. He hugged his heavy pea-coat more tightly to himself as he waited.

He hadn't been standing there long when a familiar pair appeared, trudging up the sidewalk through the snow. He frowned; Mary walked in such a way that she seemed hunched and sore, almost downtrodden, and even Brandi was lacking the usual spring in her step. As they drew closer, he saw that while Brandi was outfitted in a reasonably warm-looking white coat with faux-fur trim, Mary had made do with her baggy sweater layered under that oversized jacket she usually wore, both of which were intended for considerably warmer weather. She shivered as she approached him, her gloveless hands tucked under her arms.

Brandi slipped her arms around his waist and hugged him tightly, not uttering a word. His worried eyes found Mary's, and he knew that whatever had happened over the past week, it had been stressful for them. He turned to Brandi as she pulled back from him. Taking off his gloves, he stuffed them in his coat pocket before reaching into the pocket on the other side. He pulled out two little cardboard boxes, one tied with green ribbon, the other with red. He handed the first to Brandi, her eyes widening as he put the box in her mittened hands.

Tugging one mitten free with her teeth and letting it dangle on its string, Brandi tugged the ribbon from the box and removed the lid. Inside was a silver pendant in the shape of a deer. The body of the animal was formed around a piece of turquoise. Marshall had spotted it in a shop in New Mexico where his mother had stopped to buy souvenirs for various relatives, and had thought immediately of Brandi and his promise to bring her something back with him.

"Oh my gosh!" the girl squealed, bouncing in place as some of her usual enthusiasm showed through. "Thank you, Marshall!"

He helped her fasten the chain around her neck as Mary watched, a ghost of a smile playing across her lips. She felt better seeing Brandi happy again. The week after Christmas had been trying for both of them, struggling to get by in the aftermath of Jinx's spending spree, and the loss of the yearbook money in particular had been a crushing blow for the girl. Just like Mary once had, though, Brandi was beginning to realize that some dreams had to be let go, and Mary couldn't help but be saddened by that even if it was necessary. She was pulled from her reverie when the second box, tied in red ribbon, appeared in her field of view, sitting in front of her in Marshall's outstretched hand.

She slowly untucked her hands from under her arms, and she didn't miss Marshall's wince as he saw them. Her hands were chapped and split in places, raw almost everywhere and scabbed in a few places that still seeped if she flexed her hands wrong. She took the box from him clumsily, fumbling the ribbon off and lifting the lid with considerably more difficulty than her sister. On the small bit of cotton batting inside, there lay a necklace of similar manufacture to Brandi's, but in the shape of a flower rather than a deer. The five silver petals were hammered flat, arranged around a small piece of turquoise set in the middle. It was beautiful, Mary thought, even as she realized her weather-bitten hands wouldn't be able to manipulate the clasp as Brandi had.

Marshall realized the same thing, watching her stiff fingers open the box, and he wordlessly reached out and picked the necklace up. He carefully drew all her long, blonde hair over her left shoulder, then slipped the chain around her neck. He leaned forward, comfortingly close as he looked over her shoulder to where his hands met at the back of her neck, delicately working the clasp into place. Stepping back, he rearranged her hair, smoothing it into place as he glanced to where the pendant rested just below the hollow of her throat. Mary looked down, brushing the necklace with the tips of her chapped, nail-bitten fingers.

"It's beautiful, Marshall," she murmured, her voice catching in her throat. Preoccupied by recent events, she had completely forgotten his promise to bring her a gift, and she had gotten him nothing… though of course, she could not have afforded to get him something even if she had remembered.

"What happened to your hands, Mare?" he asked softly as he caught her wrist gently and turned her hand over, examining it.

"It's nothing," she replied evasively, her eyes not quite meeting his as he looked at her. "I was shoveling snow and my gloves wore out, that's all."

Marshall stared at her for a moment, head cocked slightly to one side, his expression inscrutable as he considered her words. It would have taken a lot of work to damage her hands that, more than just shoveling snow at her home, but he could see that she was struggling to maintain her composure and he decided to leave it alone for the moment.

He slipped his free hand into his pocket and pulled his gloves out, ignoring her murmured protests as he slid them over her hands. He felt her flinch slightly; there was no way to avoid causing her some pain, considering how roughed up her hands were, but they wouldn't begin to heal if they were left exposed to the elements, and he finished his task as gently as was possible.

Mary forced back the tears that welled in her eyes at her friend's actions. Some of it was the fact that her hands genuinely hurt, but mostly she was moved by his tenderness. She had no idea what to do with it; being cared for was so incredibly foreign to her, and she found herself unable to respond. Once the gloves were on and her hands warmed, the wounds actually began to hurt more, but the gloves, leather with fleece lining, were soft and kept the cold and the worry of frostbite at bay. They even fit reasonably well, owing to the fact that her hands were fairly large to begin with and were rather swollen from the abuse she'd put them through in the past week.

"You didn't have to," she whispered, her eyes lowered as she burned with shame over her situation and self-reproach at the fact that, deep down, it felt good to allow him to take care of her.

"I know," he said, smoothing her hair once more with his hand as he dropped a light, casual kiss at her hairline. "I want to help."

She dropped her head slightly, embarrassed by the display of affection and overwhelmed by the conflicting emotions that roiled within her. Remember, Mary, this can't go anywhere, she reminded herself silently. After graduation, he's off to college and everything goes back to how it was before.

She felt her heart clench at the thought, but she knew it was true and that there was no choice but to accept it. Anything she could have with Marshall wouldn't last. She let the pain caused by the realization steel her against her inner turmoil and all the unbidden feelings her friend roused in her. She took a step back, a gesture Marshall recognized as a subconscious attempt to put distance between herself and whatever it was she was feeling.

"I'm not going to class today," she said, forcing the words out as much as she hated having to do so. "I have things to take care of and I already called myself in, pretending to be Jinx. Can you walk Brandi to school for me?"

Marshall nodded, willing to help in whatever manner he could that she would let him, though he wished she was more willing to tell him what was going on. He watched Mary turn and head back the way she came, her sister left safely in his charge. He noticed that her now-gloved hand kept drifting up to play with the necklace he'd given her. He mulled over the encounter, wondering what it was she might be doing, what had caused her to injure her hands.

"Hey, Brandi," he addressed the girl as they walked in the direction of her school, "what happened while I was gone?"

She eyed him guiltily. "Mary said not to bother you about it."

"It's okay, Brandi. It won't be a bother," he prodded.

"Well, if you're really sure," she said dubiously.

"I am really sure," Marshall reassured her.

"Okay, then," she replied, looking relieved to be able to talk. "Well, everything was pretty normal at first. Then on Christmas, you called and we went skating, and it was like the best day."

Marshall nodded, following along. He had known that much; Mary hadn't seemed any more stressed than usual when they'd talked on the phone. "Then what?"

"Then… when we got home from the skating rink, Mom came home."

His heart sank; that woman would have to be the turning point in all this. "Drunk?"

"I don't think so," she answered matter-of-factly. "I think she was before, but not by the time she got back. Anyway, she was all dressed up, in this big fancy gown and this sparkly scarfy-thing. I thought she looked so pretty, but Mary wanted to know where it came from." Brandi glanced down at the ground, looking ashamed.

"What's wrong?" Marshall asked gently.

"I knew better, too. Mary doesn't think I do, but I do, you know? The clothes were new, and expensive, and I knew she spent money we couldn't afford, but I was just so happy that she wasn't drunk."

Marshall sighed and put a steadying hand on Brandi's shoulder. He couldn't blame the girl; he couldn't begin to imagine what it would be like to be in her position, and he didn't want to judge her for taking what little good came her way.

"And that's when Mom told Mary she'd taken the money from where Mary hides cash in case we can't pay rent. Mom took it and spent it all. My yearbook money, too," Brandi added sadly. "She pretended like it was just extra that Mary shouldn't have had anyway. Then she couldn't even return the dress because she spilled on it."

"What about Mary's hands?" he questioned. "How did that happen?"

"That's the worst part," she moaned. "We didn't have money to pay rent. Mom thought the guy she was out with on Christmas would pay it for her so she didn't save any, and then he didn't call. Mary said we couldn't live in a tent with it being so cold, and then the snow came. Mary spent all week shoveling people's sidewalks and driveways. She said the snow was a godsend, but her gloves split and she had to throw them away, and her hands got all messed up."

"And she's doing that again today?" he asked, feeling the knot in his gut tighten.

"She said that if she could get one more day in, we'd be able to pay the electric bill too, and then we won't have to worry about heat. She keeps saying she wishes we could pay for my yearbook too, but the deadline is in a couple weeks and she says bills come first," Brandi concluded plaintively. "But I don't even care, I just don't want her to have to keep doing this. I can tell by how she moves that she hurts all over."

Marshall nodded slowly, chewing the inside of his lip and trying to appear calm. He'd promised Mary's sister that whatever she had to say wouldn't be a bother, but he was deeply distressed by what he had been told. Jinx was no kind of a mother, and were it not for the fact that Mary so desperately didn't want to lose Brandi, he would have given serious thought to reporting her neglect. What would happen to Mary then, though, he didn't know, and he didn't want to be separated from her either.

When they arrived at Brandi's school, Marshall was still contemplating the situation. He sent the beleaguered girl off to her classroom after assuring her that everything would turn out alright, though he had no idea how. Brandi, knowing that her sister was doing her best and believing that would be enough, went back to school after the winter break seeming a fair bit happier. Marshall watched her go, overcome by a sense of helplessness at their situation.

Marshall turned and walked into the office. Brandi would get her yearbook, Jinx be damned; he could do that for the sisters, at least.

Mary paused in the middle of shoveling her last driveway of the day and reached for her necklace for what she guessed was the hundredth time since Marshall had given it to her. She could barely feel it through his gloves, but knowing it was there soothed her. She smiled and picked up the snow shovel again; her hands ached, but they were warm, and they would heal.

She finished up, and after collecting her pay from the home's owner, she picked up her shovel and headed for home. It was long after Brandi would have gotten out of school, but Mary knew Marshall would take care of her sister. He was good like that, good for them, and Mary began to wonder if she could find a way to make something work with him. She shook her head; it was better to avoid entertaining false hopes. Still, he was part of their lives, almost inextricably, and she didn't want that to end.

After arriving home to stow her shovel that was once her father's, and finding Jinx gone for the evening, she decided to walk over to Marshall's house. She could have just called, and he'd have brought Brandi to her, but she felt that he might like it if she came to him for once. It might mean meeting his parents, but she could live with that. Soon, she found herself on his porch, and taking a deep breath, she gingerly lifted the doorknocker.

Marshall opened the door, a surprised smile spreading over his face when he saw her there.

"Hey, Mary, come on in," he invited warmly.

Mary made her way into the house that seemed so huge to her; she had never been inside before, though she'd seen it on a few occasions when Marshall had stopped to pick something up. It seemed even bigger on the inside, if possible. Closing the door behind her, Marshall gestured toward the kitchen, from which emanated a delicious baking smell.

"Mary!" Brandi squealed. "We're making cinnamon rolls!"

"Yum," Mary replied with an enthusiastic smile, then turned to Marshall as her brow furrowed. "Since when can she cook?"

"I've been teaching her a thing or two," he said with a laugh.

"Well, this is quite a surprise," she turned back to her sister with an approving nod.

"Hey, Brandi, can you keep an eye on the cinnamon rolls?" he asked. "Pull them out when they start to brown on the top…"

"Just like that pie we made before break, right?"

"Yeah, just like that, but these cook a lot faster. The timer's already set, but make sure they're done before you pull them."

Brandi rolled her eyes. "I can do this, Marshall, I promise."

He nodded, then took Mary's wrist in his hand and pulled her toward the bathroom. He retrieved a first aid kit from under the sink.

"I want to take a look at those hands, if you don't mind," he said in a tone which, while not harsh, allowed no wiggle room.

Mary shrugged, too tired to argue. He carefully peeled the gloves from her hands, flinching with her each time she felt pain. Once her hands were free, covered in cuts and burst blisters, he soaked a cotton ball in antiseptic and began dabbing. Once or twice Mary hissed in pain as he touched a particularly sore spot; the antiseptic stung, but afterward, Marshall bandaged her palms, and the pain eased a bit.

"Where're your parents?" Mary asked as he finished, realizing that someone should have enquired as to her presence by now.

"Mom's at a book club and Dad's off somewhere working," he answered.

She nodded. It was fine with her that they weren't there. She'd been prepared to meet them, but if it wasn't going to happen tonight, so much the better. It had been a long day.

"So, are you done shoveling walks?" he queried.

"Brandi told you what happened?" she asked in return, expecting the nod he gave her. "I paid the rent already, and I have a little more for bills at least, and Jinx is out tonight so maybe she'll come home with something. I'll make it work."

"Find a better hiding place yet?"

"Yeah, I did." She pulled a wad of bills from her pocket and put them in his hands.

Marshall raised an eyebrow. "You're leaving it with me?"

"Jinx can't get to it here. Nowhere in my house is safe," she said, shrugging.

Marshall got up, left the room, and returned without the money, presumably having hidden it. As he came back, Brandi bounded down the hall.

"Mary, Marshall! The cinnamon buns are ready!" she cried, grabbing Mary by the wrist, carefully avoiding her bandaged hand. She dragged her sister down the hall, Marshall following behind.

"You know what, Mary?" she continued excitedly, pulling Mary into the living room while Marshall went to the kitchen to serve. "They have cable here!"

The three spent the evening indulging in the luxury of cable television and cinnamon rolls. Mary fumbled with hers until Brandi pulled a piece off and stuffed it into Mary's mouth; laughing, Marshall followed suit, causing Mary to splutter laughter and obscenities around the mouthful of food. Brandi flopped on the floor in fits of giggles, and Marshall smiled as he watched the sisters enjoying themselves. His girls were happy again, and that made everything feel right for him. He wondered, briefly, when he'd begun to think of them as his, but he couldn't pin down a specific point in time. In retrospect, it seemed as if it had always been so, though he knew that was not actually the case. It didn't matter. That was how he felt now, and he found it was difficult to remember what it was like before he'd met them... almost as difficult as it was to picture his life without them in the future.

A/N: There you have it, a fresh new update! Let me know what you think, and I hope you'll stick around for the next one! =)