A/N: Hmm, Mary's not the bad guy because she had amnesia? I don't know - she still left, didn't she? Keeping reading, my lovelies - there is more to come. Keep a tissue handy for this chapter - you may need it.

Mary stared at the phone in disbelief, staring at the flashing disconnect symbol. "Your father hung up on me. Marshall was always polite to a fault – I can't believe he hung up on me!"

Liam hid his grin behind a hand. "Yeah, Dad's got some unresolved issues-"

She rolled her eyes as she tossed the phone back at him. "You sound just like him – can't you say he's pissed off like everyone else?"

"He's pissed," Liam parroted back.

Mary grinned. "That's better – I can see that being raised by Marshall has had an adverse affect on your vocabulary."

He frowned. "I'll have you know that Dad cracks down on me all the time for my mouth – something he says I get from you."

"Really?" She shifted on the log to get more comfortable, but winced as pain shot up her leg. "Can we move this inside? My ankle is starting to hurt like a-" she bit back the words, which only made Liam grin. "Come on, let's go."

"Actually, I was thinking about heading back to my room at the hotel, getting some food, and hanging out there until my Dad gets in."

"Will – can I call you Will?"

Liam's throat tightened as he nodded.

"Will, Marshall won't be here for hours – probably not until the middle of the night. I'd really like it if you stayed for awhile so we could talk. I'll even feed you."

"You cook?"

"Ah, no-" Mary flushed as she shook her head. "But I do know how to order a mean pizza. So what do you say?"

Liam shrugged. "I guess since I came all this way, I could stay for awhile."

Marshall tapped on Stan's door before pushing it open and sticking his head inside. "Is this a bad time?"

Stan waved him in. "No, come in. What do you need?"

Marshall stepped inside, letting the door swing shut behind him as he began to pace. "Look Chief, I know this is terrible timing what with Tina's trial coming up but I need to take some time off."

Stan leaned back in his chair. "Oh? Starting when?"

Marshall cleared his throat. "Now."

His boss tapped a pen on his calendar. "Is this about Will?"

Marshall collapsed into the chair. "I'm so stupid! I shouldn't have let him go alone, Stan! What was I thinking?"

"Well, I'm guessing you were thinking about not opening old wounds and getting hurt again but that's just my two cents-"

"Right, so instead I send my only son off to see the woman who abandoned him at six weeks of age having no idea what bull shit she would fill his head with!" Marshall buried his head in his hands.

Stan came around his desk and placed a hand on the younger man's shoulders. "What's happened, Marshall? Did you hear from Will? Is he all right?"

Marshall nodded. "Physically he's fine – but you should have heard the pain in his voice when he told me his mother doesn't remember him."

Stan reared back. "Doesn't remember – how is that possible?"

Marshall lifted his head. "Remember I told you I looked at her personnel file on the system?"

Stan nodded.

"Well, turns out the accident she was in was a much more serious one than what's recorded in her file."

"How so?"

"She nearly died, Stan. My wife nearly died and I had no idea. She was in a coma for six months and when she woke up, she had no idea who she was. Will says she got most of her memory back – except for the part about marrying me and having a baby."

"Dear God," Stan murmured. "How did you find all this out? Did he call and tell you?"

Marshall nodded. "Some of it – but the rest I found out by digging into the hospital records – sorry, Stan, I sort of used my badge to gain access-"

Stan waved his words away. "Don't worry about that now, Inspector. The woman's your wife, for God's sake. You needed to know what happened."

"Anyway, Will called and Mary got on the phone – yelled at me for not finding her sooner and then told me to get on a plane. Not that I owe this woman any favors after eighteen years, but Will needs me-"

Stan laughed. "Who do you think you're fooling, Marshall? I've known you for ten years now. I've never seen you without your wedding ring and though there have been plenty of opportunities, you've never gone on a single date. You get your ass on a plane and fix this mess. I don't want to see your face back in this office until your family issues are resolved, is that understood?"

"But Stan, what about Tina's trial and my other-"

"Delia and Charlie can handle things here."

Marshall sighed. "My partner will be fine but Charlie? He's so green, Chief."

"So were you once. Don't worry, I'll be watching closely, all right? Now get out of here. And tell that wife of yours that if she's looking for a job, I've got one waiting for her."

Marshall started. "I don't – Mary's not coming back with me, Stan. She has her life and I have mine."

Stan shrugged as he picked up his pen and opened another file. "Oh, well, it was just a thought. The offer's open so pass it along, all right."

Marshall frowned but nodded as he backed out the door. Mary would never move to Albuquerque – why would she? Will is going to Harvard in September and there's nothing for her here.

"I'm glad I ordered a large stuffed pie," Mary smiled as she watched her son polish off the last piece.

"I'm sorry – did you want this?" Liam muttered around a mouthful.

She laughed out loud as she threw a wadded up napkin his way. "No Kid, five pieces is my limit- I'm stuffed. I won't mention how many you ate."

Liam nodded. "At home, Dad and I usually order two pies-"

"And you each eat one?" Mary guessed.

"No – usually one and a half; the rest is for breakfast."

"I'm guessing you grew up on a lot of take out."

Liam shook his head as he swallowed the last bite. "No. Dad is a great cook and then there's Rosa-"

"Wait – who's Rosa? Don't tell me your Dad has a girlfriend-"

"Whoa! Mary, no! Relax, ok? Rosa is our housekeeper-"

"Oh."

"She stayed with me when I was little and Dad had to go out of town for work. She's the best – kind of like a second mom."

Mary bit down the jealousy she felt rising inside of her. It was ridiculous – this morning she didn't even know she had a son and now here she was jealous of a woman who had helped raise her son. What right did she have to feel threatened? After all, she was the one who walked away.

"So, what does your dad do?"

"He's a US Marshal."

"Wait, what? So he's Marshal Marshall Mann?"

Liam grinned. "Yeah, he gets a lot of grief for that, especially from women – but he loves his job."

"Did he follow in his father's footsteps and go into the Fugitive Task Force?"

"You mean like you?"

Mary's mouth fell open. "How did you –" She punched his shoulder. "You know too much, Kid."

"No, Dad works in WitSec."

"Witness Protection? How do you know that? The inspectors aren't allowed to tell anyone what they do for security reasons – not even their families."

"I figured it out a couple of years ago and when I asked him, he didn't deny it; just told me not to tell anyone – that he trusted me to keep this between the two of us."

"It sounds like the two of you are close."

Liam nodded. "He's my best friend."

Mary fiddled with the neck of her root beer bottle. "What did he tell you about me?"

Liam's eyes dropped to the floor. "For a long time, I thought you were dead. Dad has pictures of you everywhere and whenever I asked about you, he was always quick to tell me stories about the two of you: how you met and got together, fell in love. But it was always in the past tense and he was so sad so I guess I just thought you were dead."

Mary was silent for a few moments, and when Liam looked up he was surprised to see tears in her eyes. "When did you find out I wasn't?"

He shrugged. "I asked. That's how it goes with me and Dad. I ask and he answers. One day when I was about ten I asked him when you died and he looked at me all shocked and said, 'Oh Will, your mom isn't dead.' And I said, 'Then where is she?' And he said, 'I don't know.'"

"Wait –" Mary held up a hand. "He didn't know? Wasn't he a US Marshal by this time?"

Liam nodded.

"Then he could have raked the system and found me quite easily – why didn't he?"

He squirmed on the sofa. "I don't know – that's something you'll have to ask him, Mary."

She started at the sound of her first name coming from her son's mouth but really, what else did she expect him to call her? They were practically strangers – a few hours acquaintance couldn't erase a lifetime of abandonment.

"Surely you must have pushed him – asked him why he didn't know?"

"I did and I have – but those conversations are between me and my Dad. Look, he thought he was doing what was best for me at the time and I respect him for that, OK?"

"But-"

"Hey - the important thing is that my dad has never said one bad thing about you even though you were the one who walked out on us when I was six weeks old. He has been waiting for you to come home for the past eighteen years-"

"Well, I didn't ask him to!" Mary snapped.

Liam got to his feet, brushing the crumbs from his T-shirt. "Actually you did."

"What the hell does that mean?"

He shook his head. "Nothing – I shouldn't have said that. You need to wait and talk to my dad. I need to go-"

"Well, isn't this cozy!"

The front door banged against the wall as Raph strolled inside. Liam reached for his car keys, not wanting to be a part of the scene that was about to happen.

"Bye, Mary."

"Will, wait!"

He dashed out the still open door and Raph whistled. "Ouch, Querida! The kid didn't even call you mom! Are you sure you want to claim him? He isn't very respectful."

Mary ignored him and began to gather up the trash from their pizza dinner. Raph walked over and picked up a nearly empty root beer bottle, tipping the contents up to his mouth.

"What are you doing?" she demanded.

"Just checking – I wanted to make sure you weren't serving alcohol to minors."

"Get out, Raph. You're drunk. Go sleep it off at one of your buddies' houses and we'll talk tomorrow."

He reached out and grabbed a wrist, pulling her into him, ignoring the whimper of pain that escaped as her weight came down on her broken ankle. "I don't want sleep, Mer. I want you."

She pushed him away, collapsing on the couch, panting in pain. "Get – out!" she huffed. "Before I – call –"

He fell on top of her, pinning her hands over her head. "You want it – you know you do." He ground his hips into hers.

She twisted her face to the side. "No! I don't! Not now – I'm a married woman, Raph – I will not knowingly cheat on my husband!"

The word 'husband' penetrated the drunken haze and Raph pulled back enough to look in her eyes. "Are you ss-erious?"

"Get – off."

"Mary, I'm not the first guy you've had sex with in eighteen years-"

Her eyes fluttered shut. "I know."

"So, come on. Let's have some fun-" he leaned down and sucked on her neck. He felt her go limp beneath him and a thrill shot through his veins. "I knew you wanted it."

Mary wrapped her legs around his hips and waited for his grip to loosen on her wrists, willing her body not to tense. Finally, when he began to rain kisses down her chest, her chance came and wrapping her hands around his neck, she moved quickly, spinning them on the couch so that he was underneath.

Raph grinned up at her. "If you wanted to be on top, all you had to do was-"

She kneed him in the privates and listened to his cry of pain. "Do I have your attention?"

His face was contorted in agony but he still managed a slight nod.

"Good. We are not going to have sex – not tonight and not while I'm a married woman, understood?"

He nodded and Mary got to her feet slowly, limping as she kept the weight off her injury. "I'll get you some ice for your-" she gestured to his privates and limped off.

When she came back with a bag of ice, Raph was curled up on his side in the fetal position and Mary barely managed to keep the smile off her face. "Here."

"Thanks," he muttered as he took the ice and pressed it to his lap. "Can I ask you something?"

"I suppose."

"How do you even know you're married? How do you know this Marshall guy is telling the truth?"

"Why would a guy I haven't seen in eighteen years lie about something like that?"

"Maybe he needs a wife for something-"

Mary shook her head. "Marshall Mann doesn't lie – not to me." She picked up the empty pizza box. "I'm going to take a shower – alone."

He grunted. "I'm not going anywhere for a long time, don't worry."

She smiled. "Good night."

"Mary?"

"Hmm?"

"This Marshall sounds like an honorable guy-"

"He is. What's your point, Raph?"

"Well, what's he going to think when he hears about all the whoring around you've been doing?"

She started in pain at the word 'whoring' but did her best to cover as she shrugged. "It doesn't matter – one, I didn't know I was married and two, it's not like I'm going to stay married. We were just kids, Raph."

"Right, sorry. But there is your son-"

Mary paled. "Will-"

"Yeah, Will. What's he going to think of his mom sleeping around?"

"I – night, Raph."

"Good night, Mary."

She refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing her cry. Her resolve held until she was in the shower with the water running and it was hard to tell the difference between the water droplets and her own tears. Mary slid to the tiled floor, the sobs raking her slender frame.

December 1994

Marshall's house

Mary walked up to the Mann's front door and rang the doorbell, stepping back as she waited for an answer. Marshall had missed school for the past two days and hadn't been at work - she was worried. He had promised her Sunday night in her bedroom that nothing would change between them now that he had seen the real her – but maybe he had changed his mind. She'd never had a real friend before and part of her was terrified that she had lost the only one who had taken the time to get to know her and hadn't run screaming from the room. She'd spent the last two days without him and she missed him more than she would ever admit out loud. Was this friendship? Was it more?

The door swung open and Marshall's mom stood in the doorway with a frown on her face. "Mary? What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be at work?"

Mary swallowed. "I – I told Stella I'd be a little late today. Marshall hasn't been at school this week and I thought I'd bring him his homework assignments."

Patti Mann smiled. "That was very thoughtful of you, dear. I was going to pick them up tomorrow but you beat me to it." She held out her hand but Mary hesitated.

"Is Marshall OK? Is he sick?"

"No, the doctor just wanted him to rest-" Patti stopped talking and frowned again.

Mary's stomach flipped over. "Can I see him? Please, just a couple of minutes?"

Patti studied the girl. "All right. He's in his room – keep the door open, OK?"

Mary nodded as she slipped off her heavy winter coat, handing it off to Patti as she climbed the staircase two steps at a time. Marshall's door was cracked and she knocked as she pushed it open. "Marshall?"

"Mary?" He turned at the sound of her voice, the smile breaking out across his face.

She gasped as she saw the deep purple bruise across his left cheekbone and flew to land beside him on the bed, reaching out to touch it with trembling fingers. "What happened?"

"Clumsy me, I ran into-"

"Someone's fist?" she finished his sentence with a heavy dose of sarcasm.

"I'm fine," he sighed.

She noticed how he was hiding his right hand under his bedspread and she yanked at his arm. "Show me."

"Mary-"

"Show – me."

With a heavy sigh, he pulled his right hand from beneath the spread and she gasped as the swollen digits came into view. "Marshall Mann, tell me what the fuck happened! Right now!"

"Mary, language! My mother is probably listening right outside that door-"

"Sorry-" she raised her voice a little. "Sorry, Mrs. Mann!"

They heard a soft snicker and then footsteps going away down the hall.

"Tell me what happened!" she insisted, capturing his uninjured hand in hers. "Or do I have to tickle torture it out of you?"

His eyes widened. "Anything but that!" He sobered. "Have you seen Mark at school?"

"Sure, but-" her mouth fell open. "Don't tell me you gave him that black eye?"

He held up his swollen hand. "Guilty."

"But why? It's not like you to fight."

"Not unless I have a very good reason."

Mary swallowed. "Are you saying you were fighting over me?"

He shook his head. "No, I was fighting for you."

"I don't understand – will you please just tell me what happened?"

"Mark was waiting for me when I left your apartment Sunday night – does he do that a lot? Sit outside your house?"

She shrugged. "Sometimes."

He grunted. "Anyway, he hit me as soon as I got to my truck. I tried to dodge him but didn't quite make it-" he raised his swollen hand to his cheek. "Anyway, he started in with what the hell was I doing there so late – was I fucking his girl – did I know how many guys you'd been with-" his voice broke and he hung his head only to have Mary nudge it with hers in comfort.

"What happened then?"

"What do you think? I hit him! I wasn't going to let him call the girl I love a whore."

Mary's heart was beating like a trip hammer. "You love me?"

"Oh – don't freak out on me, OK? I know you're dating Mark and you're probably mad I hit him but he did hit me first and-"

Her lips on his silenced his flow of words and it was sweeter and gentler than their first kiss on Sunday night. The phone ringing downstairs brought them back to reality and Mary broke away from his lips, pressing a soft kiss to his bruised cheekbone. "My hero," she whispered.

"Mary!" Patti Mann called up the stairs. "That was Stella – she says she needs you at work right now."

"Shit! I have to go!" Mary scrambled to her feet, giving Marshall another quick peck on the lips. "I'll call you later?"

"OK." He grabbed her hand. "Mary, what is this? Are we-?"

She laughed and kissed him again. "I don't know – but you should know that Mark broke up with me on Monday."

"So you're on the rebound."

"I'm not on the rebound from anything – I was going to break up with him – he just beat me to the punch – oh, sorry," she giggled.

"Why were you going to break up with him?"

"Can't you guess?"

He pulled her back to him, running his good hand through her ponytail. "I could – but I'd like to hear you say it."

"Because I couldn't get a kiss from a certain blue eyed brown haired guy out of my mind."

"Good answer."

"Marshall," she sobered, locking eyes with him. "Mark was right about some things. I'm not a virgin. Though I don't spread my legs for every guy, I have had sex with-"

He shook his head and kissed her. "I don't care. I only care about what you do when we're going out. As long as you don't cheat on me, we're good."

"I've never cheated when I've been in a relationship – I'm not that kind of girl!"

"I know." He sighed. "You better go before Stella fires you."

"OK – call you later?"

"I'll be here – I love you, Mer."

Her fingers curled around the doorframe as she smiled back at him, her battered and bruised hero. "I know."

A/N: Yay for Papa Stan! And past M&M are so cute - don't you think? Hmm, I wonder what will happen when they finally come face to face? Reviews are LOVE!