Author's Note: Special thanks to JMS529, JJ2008, Jayne Leigh, and BrittanyLS for the reviews! #149 is sort of an unofficial companion to "Fitting in the Pieces."
QUOTE PROMPT #148 - MARSHALL
"What grade do we stop believing in ourselves? What grade do we stop believing period."
Marshall stood at the end of the aisle, watching as his bride came slowly towards him, her arm linked with her father's. She looked beautiful. At least, he thought she looked beautiful. He was having a hard time concentrating. His nerves were playing havoc on his stomach and the stressed appeared to be affecting his brains.
Every time he looked at Abigail walking down the aisle, he saw Mary instead.
But not Mary as she was today, standing in the front row, decked out in a green sundress, holding Norah in her arms.
No, he kept seeing a seven-year-old Mary in pigtails, the way she looked in pictures that he saw of her. Her green eyes were sad and her posture was defeated. Marshall searched his brain for why he would be seeing Mary at this age when his fiance was walking down the aisle. Abigail had nearly reached the end when it hit him like a ton of bricks.
He was seeing Mary at age seven because that was the last time the man that was more important to her than anything had abandoned her.
And he was about to do the same.
Sure, they would stay friends for a little while, but that would fade as his marriage and family asserted its rightful dominance. Eventually, she would move from Albuquerque WitSec or he would. There would be Christmas cards and maybe a phone call here or there, but that, too, would fizzle out.
The idea of life without Mary was shredding his heart.
He had no idea what hell it would be like to actually live without her.
That was the crutch of the situation, though, wasn't it? He could not, he would not, live without Mary. She had his heart and always would. He had convinced himself that he could move on. He let his heart believe it to be true. But that wasn't fair, not to Abigail, not him, and not to Mary.
"Abigail," he whispered when she reached him, "we need to talk."
"I know."
QUOTE PROMPT #149 - BRANDI
"In a thousand years time, you won't remember me."
Brandi took a deep breath before entering the nursery. She could hear her baby girl cooing as she entered and picked her up from the crib. Brandi sat down on the rocking chair, cradling the tiny infant in her arms.
"I don't really know how to tell you this," Brandi started, feeling foolish for talking to a three-month-old, "but I'm leaving. I know, I know. It makes me a horrible mother. I am a horrible mother, but you already know this, don't you? It's why you're almost never calm for me and calm for Grandma and Aunt Mary."
"Aunt Mary," Brandi repeated with a sigh. "I'm leaving you with Aunt Mary. She's a good mom. You know, it's funny. When we were kids, I was the one that always talked about having kids and she was always the one that didn't want them. Now, she's the one with all the maternal instinct. I guess that shouldn't really be a surprise since she raised me.
"You shouldn't hold that against her, though. She did the best she could, but she was just a kid, too. And I have too much of my mother in me; my father, too, it appears." Brandi was unable to stop the tears welling up in her eyes from falling. "I'm sorry for running away, I really am. I just don't know how to do this and I am so afraid that if I stay, I'll screw you up. I just want you to know, even if you don't remember this, that I am doing the best thing for you. I am giving you to the best mother that I know. This is my gift to you."
Brandi kissed the baby's head. She rose and placed her back into her crib. Teagan yawned before falling asleep. Shaking her head, Brandi wiped her tears away. She made her way quietly out of the room. She glanced over the letter she left on the kitchen counter one final time, then grabbed her duffle bag. With her head hung low, she took off into the night.
QUOTE PROMPT #150 – MARY/MARSHALL
"Wow. I can't believe you just delivered that line with a straight face."
"Marshall? What are we doing here?" Mary asked, glancing at the courthouse that he had parked in front of.
"You and I are here to get married," he replied, calmly, unbuckling his seatbelt. He gestured to the kids in the back. "These guys are here to be witnesses. So are Stan and Delia since, you know, neither of these two can write yet."
Mary jumped out of the car when Marshall did. "Are you insane?"
He smiled, slyly. "I'll have you know that I passed my last psych evaluation with flying colors."
"That's because Finkel's always had a crush on you," she muttered. Mary rolled her eyes at the smirk on his face. "What makes you think that I'm going to agree to this?"
"Two things," Marshall held up a finger, "one, you have run screaming from her, and two, you love me."
Mary pulled her niece from her car seat. "Did it occur to you that I'm not running because you drove here? And that it's hard to run with a kid on each hip?" She had to bite her lip to stop from laughing at the startled look on Marshall's face. "What made you decide to do this today?"
He shrugged, but Mary could see the tension in his eyes. "Because you're ready."
"Because I'm ready," she repeated. "What else you got?"
"How about because I love you? Because I can't imagine another day without you? Because I want to start the rest of my life today and the rest of my life includes you and these two little girls? Because-"
Mary held up her free hand to stop him. "Okay."
Marshall ran his hand over his mouth. "Okay as in you'll marry me?"
"Yep."
"Good." Marshall grabbed Norah and rounded the car to kiss her. He looked at her sideways as they made their way up the steps. "You just agreed to get me to shut up, didn't you?"
"Yep."
