As one of the most endearing members of the Paw Patrol, Marshall was beloved by all for his bright spirit and loving personality. The Dalmation would jump to help those in need, and charge into a flaming inferno if it meant saving a life. Such was the life of a firefighter and part-time EMT, Marshall didn't see as much action as Chase did but he was still a vital asset to the team.

However, Marshall did have his flaws, most notably a single mishap that seemed to follow him like a leash the owner forgot to take off. The Dalmation was plagued by a considerable degree of clumsiness, sending him on uncontrollable collision courses into elevators or just tripping on the floor. Usually, he would crash into the open elevator- and everyone in it- but they were all quick to forgive him.

Tonight was no such case.

Marshall looked down at the floor, shuffling his paws nervously as he sat in the ascending elevator. It was almost midnight, and the urge to lie down and sleep was clawing at him. The weight of his water hoses and a mop strapped to his back was not making it any easier. Beside him, Chase was sitting with a stern expression, staring off into the wall. The Shepherd had been assigned to watch Marshall and make sure his community service was completed.

"This isn't fair," Marshall whined,

"You made that mess," Chase replied firmly, "you're cleaning it."

"But I'm tired,"

"You think I'm not?" Chase countered, dripping with frustration, "the sooner you finish, the sooner we can both go to bed."

Hours earlier, Marshall had been playing in the Lookout, pushing around a ball with his nose. He quickly grew reckless, charging around the building and knocking over a food dish. Eventually, he kicked the ball so hard it went flying into a TV screen and cracked it. Stopping cold, Marshall stared at the broken appliance, and his mind raced for a solution. He knew Rocky had tools, it was a possible fix. Fearing Ryder, Marshall abandoned the ball and raced over to the TV. Unfortunately, it was a rather high distance up the wall, a reach no puppy could manage. Growing with worry, Marshall spotted pipes that ran up the wall, no doubt the main connection lines for water and sewage. The pipes were never covered over, as it would mean creating a wall that took up more space than it was worth. Marshall seized what he assumed was the best idea he ever had: climbing the pipes to reach the TV.

He had started strong, putting one paw above the other as he slowly began to scale the wall, and found his footing on what looked like a rod sticking out of a pipe. He did not realize the rod was actually a lever, meant to be configured into positions that directed the pressure of the pipes. As he moved his full body on the lever, inches from reaching the TV, the whole mechanism suddenly lurched downward, as the lever failed to withstand Marshall's weight. The sudden change in foundation sent Marshall crashing to the floor, and he was unprepared for what happened next. He had unintentionally configured the lever all the way down, sealing the pipes entirely. In mere seconds, the still-flowing water was blocked off and quickly filled up, and a hissing leak stabbed through the metal, spraying water a considerable distance. Marshall panicked, trying to get up, but the water refused to be contained. The entire pipe system suddenly ruptured off the wall, exploding into a wave of sewage that bludgeoned over Marshall and everything else in the tower.

Rocky quickly turned off the water lines while Ryder assessed the damage and Marshall was hit with an angry talking-to and stern community service, with Chase as the chaperone.

"I just wanted to play with a ball," Marshall grumbled,

"You nearly destroyed our plumbing," Chase turned, "honestly that broken TV was the least of our worries, why didn't you just tell someone?"

The Dalmation looked away, shame washing over him as he looked to the floor, "I just thought I could fix it before anyone found it,"

Chase merely shook his head, followed by a long sigh.

The elevator doors opened, and the two dogs stepped out onto the wet floors of the Lookout. The whole floor was waterlogged with the sickly green sewage water.

"Ugh," Marshall grimaced, "it smells like-"

"I know," Chase interrupted, "just get to work."

The Dalmation huffed, pouting over to a dirty puddle and activating his water hoses. Chase wandered to a dry spot in the room, having to step over a minefield of sewage and dirty puddles. Once he found his place, he laid down on his stomach and watched Marshall. It was Ryder's orders that the Dalmation was barred from literally everything until the whole mess was dealt with.

Marshall grumped to himself, gagging as he accidentally dipped his paw into the murky liquid. Using his hose, he sprayed the sewage down with water, seemingly to uproot any forming grit or stains the filth was trying to leave on the floor. Then gripping the mop in his teeth, he got to scrubbing down the floor. With the bucket Rocky provided, Marshall was to mop up the floors and empty it into the bucket for it to be emptied outside later.

The clock struck midnight as the Dalmation ferociously shoved the mop into a grimy puddle. There was some thick mass swimming in the water that had attached itself to the floor, and was giving off a stench that could only be described as human waste left in a metal garbage can in the middle of summer. Marshall was beginning to look rather grimy himself, as his fur was becoming matted and rough, his paws soaked in foul sewage. He swore that he'd spend hours in the bath when he was all done. The job wasn't even half completed, as whatever waste the pipe vomited on the floor was being highly defiant with giving in to the mop.

"Honestly, what were you thinking?" Chase said after a while, picking his head up, "climbing up the pipes?"

"I just wanted to fix the stupid TV!" snapped the Dalmation, furiously attacking the watery slop, "why are we still on this?"

"Marshall, it's not even about the TV anymore," Chase lowered his ears, "you could have really hurt doing that!"

"Oh bite me!" fired back the other dog, really putting his back into the cleaning. The muck was finally starting to loosen.

"I'm serious!" The Shepherd snapped, now standing up, "TVs, pipes, they can all be replaced! But you? There will never be another you, you're special to me, and everyone else here. We can not afford to lose you!"

Marshall dropped the mop, looking back at his friend with narrowed eyes, "what's your point?"

"My 'point,' is you should've just come clean about the TV in the first place," Chase pressed, "you're important to us, to me, and if we lost you in some dumb accident that could've been prevented..."

He trailed off, shaking his head as his ears drooped, "I don't know what I'd do,"

His words washed over Marshall, a flow of fresh water to clean away the muck the Dalmation was currently smothered in. His blue eyes softened, and he hung his head

"I'm sorry,"

The Shepherd turned his head away, "it's okay, Marsh. Just finish up in here and it'll all be done."

His anger died away, Marshall picked up the mop again and returned to scrubbing down the floor. Roughly an hour of silence passed, and both dogs were swept up in the currents of their own minds. Marshall just wanted it to be over at this point, and made haste to complete what remained. Every few moments he'd sneak a look at Chase, who had turned away with a sad expression on his face. Guilt groped up inside the Dalmation, and the temptation to apologize yet again was taking over. He didn't want to stray away from his work anymore, but something was irking him.

"I'm important to you?" he asked,

"Huh?"

"As you said, I'm important to you," Marshall pointed out,

Chase merely shrugged, "of course you are, you're like my second family."

The janitor dog tilted his head, "but there's more to it, isn't there?"

His words were met with narrowed eyes from the Shepherd, and Marshall realized Chase was studying him. As a police dog, he was specially trained in investigation and picking up cues, and now he wondered if Marshall was trying to pull the same thing.

"I think I just said a little too much," Chase waved off,

"No, please," insisted the Dalmation, "tell me, I want to know."

"Marshall, I don't think you'd like hearing what I'm about to say,"

"Well, you were dragged in with my cleaning duty, I think I can hear you out,"

Chase sighed, looking away as Marshall turned back to the final puddles of mess that laid across the floor.

"You are important," began the police dog, "but especially to me... I guess, more so than the others."

Marshall picked his head up.

"Marsh, ever since you joined the Patrol... I wanted you out."

"What?" The Dalmation recoiled,

"But it wasn't because I didn't like you!" Chase defended, "It-"

"You wanted me off the team?!"

"Yes, because I was afraid for you! Do you know the things I've seen as a police dog? The world is an awful place, and you just..." he struggled to find the words, "had this aspiration. An ambition to help and rescue, to dive into burning buildings, I confess I saw myself in you a little."

"And you... didn't want that?" Marshall felt his heart breaking,

"No!" Chase snapped, "I knew the danger you wanted to charge into, but I wanted to keep you safe because I cared about you!" he grimaced, shaking his head, "I care about you, Marshall... more than the others, okay?"

The Dalmation took another step back, ignoring the filthy puddle he just dipped his paw into, "more than... the others?" He had several questions, yet a part of him felt like he already knew the answer.

His words were met with silent frustration from the Shepherd, who merely turned away, "just forget it. Go back to cleaning."

"Chase, wait-"

The larger dog whipped around and snarled, "just finish it!"

Marshall was physically taken aback by Chase's outburst, and it took every amount of self-control to keep his tears contained. With an audible sniff, he turned around and returned back to cleaning.

At the stroke of two in the morning, the Lookout was finally cleaned and cleared of the mess Marshall had created. With a sad sigh, he emptied the mop into the bucket and pushed it aside for it to be carried out later. He was completely exhausted, and his legs threatened to collapse at any moment. His tail dragged on the floor, thankfully now free of any sludge or other ungodly waste. Despite the spotless floor, Marshall himself was incredibly filthy. Working tirelessly had resulted in a rather vile layer of grime sticking to his fur, and two of his paws had become discolored.

Chase was more than prepared to call it a night, although his previous words were echoing within him. Clearly, Marshall was upset, something that needed to be fixed right away.

"Marshall, I-" he tried to speak as they both trudged into the elevator, "I'm sorry."

"Look, you can finally go to bed now," Marshall refused to return his gaze, "I'm gonna go take a bath."

The Shepherd lowered his head, coming over to his friend's side, "the truth is, you're special to me. To me you are..."

He nearly choked getting the last part out:

"...more than a friend."

Marshall turned his head, almost not believing what he had just heard, and it seemed as if the brilliant blue color had returned to his eyes.

"So, I'm sorry for acting like an asshole," Chase shrugged, "but I just get really worried when you put yourself in these dangerous situations," he flicked his eyes to meet Marshall's gaze, then gave a warm smile, "so maybe just, start playing outside instead?"

There was a solid few seconds of them locked in each other's eyes, until Marshall gave a small smile, "did you just confess to liking me?"

Chase immediately turned his head away, blushing a deep red, "not sure, you make it difficult to like you when you destroy an entire pipeline then I get forced to watch over you."

The Dalmation broke into a wide smile and giggled at the response, before swaying a little and quickly looking away, "even so, I'm glad you were there, I probably would've done it all wrong," he laughed, "cleaning is Rocky's thing."

Now it was Chase's turn to laugh, his past irritation and frustration seeming like a distant memory, "I guess it's a good thing you have me," he chuckled as his tail happily wagged. Neither of the dogs realized how close they had gotten to each other.

"I have you," Marshall gushed, gazing into the Shepherd's eyes as he was mere centimeters from his face. In that moment, they found themselves leaning into each other.

Suddenly, Chase snapped backward, shoving out his paw to hold Marshall back, "Uh uh, nope. You are not kissing me right now," he laughed, "not while you smell like that,"

The grime-covered dog flashed mischievous eyes, "aw come on, I worked so hard. You could at least give me something."

Chuckling slightly, Chase held his paw up to his mouth and licked it, then reached out and tapped it to Marshall's nose, "there, that's all you get."

The gesture was met with a blushing mess from his partner, "seriously?" Marshall giggled, sounding slightly offended.

"You are not getting anything from me until you have a bath," Chase teased, moving his head in a sassy motion,

The elevator finally came to a stop, the doors opening to the outside. Crickets sounded in the dead of night, and Rubble's faint snoring could be heard. The Dalmation pouted as he exited, walking off to his kennel. However, Marshall could not resist looking over his shoulder as Chase went his separate way, a warm, shining feeling glowing inside him. He knew he would see Chase tomorrow, a time when he'd be clean for sure, and he found himself craving to be with him even more.

Chase had left, finally breaking off from Marshall. Much was accomplished tonight, perhaps more than he initially intended. As the leader of the team, he cared deeply for all five of his partners, although a certain Dalmation seemed to catch his eye more than any other. At that moment, Chase realized that no matter how much trouble and mischief Marshall ensnared himself in, he could never repress his true feelings for the Dalmation.