(I apologize for the long overdue update, my computer has been overrun with viruses and will have to be wiped clean as of tonight, so I'm not necessarily sure when the next update will come after this, I'll try and leave you on the edge of your seats, Happy reading, comments are always welcome! )

Mary opened her eyes, expecting Marshall's calm brown eyes to greet her, but only to be met by a whiff of his aftershave and her partner nowhere to be found. She thought back to earlier, clearly if his scent still remained she hadn't imagined all of this evening had she? She looked for any sign of him, his coat, his sunglasses, but nothing of Marshalls caught her eye. To imagine him having been there and to imagine everything she had said was near impossible to her, and she found her heart rate slowly increasing as she thought about every possible place he could be that wasn't there with her. Mary took a deep breath when she realized her face was beginning to feel hot at the mere thought that Marshall had left her, in the middle of the night to be with Abigail. In every way that would make more sense than him having stayed to watch her sleep, after all Mary wasn't with him, he loved Abigail.

She took another deep breath, what was she doing? She was letting herself become the grotesque hormonal stereotype she had promised herself she would never become, so what if she had dreamt it all up? She was under a lot of stress, she was on a very strong drug to stop the progression of her labor, there were nearly a million reasons she could think of for having imagined her confessing her love to her partner… Or were they excuses? Mary Shannon looked up just in time to watch the door open, and Marshall enter.

"Mare, I'm sorry, I tried to get back before you woke up, I really would have preferred you not being met by and empty, cold hospital room, if you look around you'll see the way each wall is painted pure or off white, as to give people the feeling that its cleaner than most establishments…" she stared at him blankly, now that he was back, it was scarier for her to think all of those things had actually happened, that she had actually said all of those words, Marshall smirked innocently,

"It's true…"

"I can't believe this is happening…"

"That hospitals are painted white for a psychological purpose?" he asked confused.

"Where did you go doofus? I was beginning to think you had gotten mowed down by a bus or something, well a smart car at least- a bus is too exciting for Albuquerque…" she reasoned aloud.

"No, I went out to get coffee, and I made a phone call- horrible reception in here." He sipped at the foam cup in his hand and ruffled his short brown hair. Marshall walked toward Mary, yawning as he sat down in the empty chair and placed his coffee on the nightstand.

"You look like crap. Who did you call?"

"Your mother. Why does it matter?"

"Jeez you don't have to be a douche, I was just trying to make awkward hospital conversation, I thought of all people you'd appreciate the fact that I'm even giving a damn right now… Why did you call my mother?"

"Forget about that now, for a person who slept for four and a half hours in labor without waking up you sure are grumpy. Any other woman on this floor would kill to sleep that long in your condition."

"Marshall it's not a God damn condition! I don't have tuberculosis, I wasn't in some sort of accident, I don't even think you treated me like this much of a wounded koala when I got shot, Jesus Christ lay off of me…"

"Excuse me, I didn't realize the fact that I care about you pissed you off so much.." he teased.

"Well it does and the fact that I love you pisses me the hell off too!" she yelled.

"Why does it piss you off? You're a human being- you feel. You can't be some robotic, unfriendly, in human cop, everyone will hate you, in fact because you try and be like that and you try to make it obvious to people around you that you could care less about what they mean to you people hate you before they get to see the Mary I love."

"What do you see in me that makes you want to stay? What about me draws you in?" she questioned angrily.

"For one, you're beautiful."

"Please Marshall don't start that bull shit, any other day I'd take that compliment, but of all times to tell me I'm beautiful it wouldn't be now, not when I look like a house and my hairs going every which way…"

"Shut up and let me finish."

Mary closed her mouth, aggressive Marshall wasn't, he was in an off mood, it was easy to tell when he had something up his sleeve. She eyed him suspiciously.

"Number two, I don't see the sarcastic, heartless woman everyone else does, I know who you are. And three, I've spent the last five years of my life trying to work with you and live another life with another woman, but Mary that is literally impossible. I can't wake up in the morning, go to work and then at night when I take my badge off magically stop loving you. It doesn't work like that."

"Marshall please-

"No, I'm going to finish whether you like it or not."

"Never in my entire life was I as happy when you told me you were pregnant, but at the same time, it threw me for a loop. I loved Abigail, but I couldn't help but feel this intense aversion for myself and for Mark…"

"Why yourself? Why Mark!"

"That's what I was trying to figure out and it occurred to me, I hated Mark because he got you pregnant by mistake, and he was trying to be a father to your baby on purpose, when I would have given anything to have had a chance to be the one going through this with you. Lastly I hated myself for loving Abigail when I was already in love with you…."

"Marshall I don't think now's the time to be telling me all of this…"

"Me neither."

"Then why are you?" she argued.

"I want you to know how I feel..." his face twisted into a look of pain that Mary had never seen on him, a look of hurt that she had hoped she would never cause.

"I think you know how I feel and I think you know that we –she gestured- wouldn't be normal, in all honesty it can't be normal- Marshall I do love you, but I don't think this is gonna work. It hasn't been easy for me to watch you move on, but I think I've done it. I think you should be with Abigail."

"I don't." He answered flatly. "Why don't you ask me why I called your mother again?" he added.

"That's a shitty way to change the subject Marshall, you think I'm that dumb, do you know me? I'm not going to forget about it two seconds after your pour your heart out to me.."

"Mary?"

"And another thing!-

"Mary?"

"WHAT?"

"I don't want you to forget, I just want you to ask me why I called your mother.."

"Are you trying to play one of your stupid mind games? You know I don't fall for those! Why did you call my mother Marshall huh?"

"Call me old fashioned, but I needed her blessing."

"Why the hell would you need her-

He pulled something from his pocket,

"Marshall, please no tiny boxes today, no tiny-

"Mary, I love you."

"Marshall, seriously I'm begging you...-

"And I want you to be with me…" he continued, smirking at her inability to find a snide remark.

"I can't."

"But you can, I want you to marry me, I want you, Mary Shannon to marry me and I want you to have this baby, and I want this baby to have me as their dad." He urged. The amount of conviction in his voice was almost convincing enough to make any normal woman say yes ten times over. Marshall continued to stare into her contorted face, but disconnected from her gaze as a loud cry filled the air,

"AHH!" she yelled clutching at the blankets.

"Oh c'mon Mary that's low, don't fake a contraction…" he whined, standing up from his knees.

"I- I'm NOOTT, AHHH Marshall- she looked at her hand and then at Marshall, who stood there, staring horrified at Mary's crimson soaked blankets, from just below her waist down to her feet the blood was seeping into the snowy white hospital sheets and it covered her hand.

"I'm bleeding…" she whispered before Marshall watched her eyes flutter shut and the sound of the heart monitor began scream at him. He could barely believe the speed her heart decelerated and the swarm of staff that surrounded his partner. Marshall stared through the crowd of medical personnel bewildered at the pale visage of Mary Shannon. The tiny box with the ring he knew was always destined to be on her hand slipped through his fingers onto the worn tile of the hospital room floor.