Title: A Conversation. Of Sorts.
Author: vegawriters
Fandom: In Plain Sight
Pairing: Mary/Marshall
Rating: Adult. I mean this. *ahem* If you’re at work, I wouldn’t read this. If you’re underage, go away.
A/N: This is the follow up to Patience. Initially it was going to be worked into the chapters of The Evidence of Damage, but I think it needs to stand on its own. References to the way Mary and Marshall’s relationship is developing will appear in that story though.
Disclaimer: Are you kidding? They own ME! ;)

Summary:They still hadn’t talked. It wasn’t that she was avoiding him, he knew that. They’d been busy. But over a week since being allowed to taste her had led to near inappropriate behavior at work. Stan wouldn’t mind if he just pushed Mary up against wall right there in front of everyone, right?



They hadn’t talked.

She’d promised they would talk and she’d meant it.

But they hadn’t talked.

First the bank robber who reminded her of her father had yet again pushed her buttons and made her yearn for the very thing she thought was beyond her reach. Then Alex Cabot had come back into her life and now that the woman got to be the lawyer from New York and not Andrea Maddox, divorcee from Butte, Montana, their relationship was far more interesting.

Then there was trial prep and taking a witness up to Salt Lake to testify and getting her moved to her new home.

She wasn’t avoiding him, but she could tell he was starting to think she was.

So she’d invited him over. It could be fun: her and Jinx and Peter and Marshall. Because talking while her mother and her sister’s (ex?) boyfriend were in the room would be so easy. Oh she was so good at avoidance.

Really, all she wanted to do was kiss him again. She wanted to feel his hands on the curve of her hips and taste the way his lips tasted after a sip of wine. She wanted him to press her back into the wall and she needed to know that he felt about her the same way she refused to admit she felt about him.

So having him over on Mother’s Day made so much sense.

Mary rooted through her fridge – margarita mix and ginger ale ready for Jinx and Peter. The tequila in the cupboard for her and Marshall. Food. The grill ready to go. Marshall had promised to bring a vegetable or two.

It was so rare – to get the chance to sit out by her pool and get the grill going and enjoy spring in New Mexico. Until this year, she’d never allowed herself the moment. Now, it was all she wanted. Yet again she glared at her phone, willing it to only ring on personal business. Today, nothing was going to make her focus on work.

Unless Jinx started to drive her crazy.

Her phone buzzed.

The store only has jalapeños. They’re out of Anaheim peppers. You okay with that?

Somehow, Mary found herself reading the simple text as an explanation of her relationship with Marshall. Every little girl in the world expected the sauce and spice of jalapeño peppers in a relationship. They usually got the sweet tang of Anaheim. With her, she had the chance for it to be the other way around.

“Oh get a grip, Shannon,” Mary muttered as she texted back an affirmative. It had been a kiss. A wonderful, tender, eye-opening, dam bursting kiss, but it was still a kiss and if she and Marshall were going to do anything beyond that one kiss, they needed to figure out what it meant for them at work.

If only he wasn’t her best friend. It would be so easy to throw all sense of professional decorum to the winds if he was just another Marshal. But she’d already spent too many a long, lonely night wondering exactly how talented his tongue really was.

It still bothered her to admit that the last time she and Raphael had made love, she’d almost gasped out Marshall’s name.

“Oh, Mary!”

The sudden intrusion of her mother’s voice into her private thoughts made Mary wince. It wasn’t that she wasn’t glad to see Jinx, but the surprise didn’t work well with her mood. She’d been hoping Marshall would arrive first and if anything, she could spend a few moments on his lap, reacquainting herself with his tongue. The tank top and pair of shorts she’d worn to cover her favorite one-piece swimsuit had been put on to catch his eye. She wanted him to run those long fingers up her legs and under the shorts and …

“Hi, Mom.” Mary enveloped her mother in a loose hug. She couldn’t bring herself to utter the “happy mother’s day” greeting that she knew was due. Hopefully, Jinx wouldn’t notice. Luckily, her mother was already piling food onto the counter and rooting around for ginger ale. “How are you doing?” The question was loaded and Mary hated that. But last month Jinx had been short on the rent and Mary wanted to prepare herself for any questions that might involve money.

“I’m good, sweetie. Thank you for helping me out last month; the car just needed that work and my credit cards are still being paid off.” Jinx flashed a smile and Mary started to relax. “You look good, Mary.” She paused and Mary shifted uncomfortably. “Have you seen Raphael?”

“Yeah … he moved the rest of his stuff out a few weeks ago.” Mary left off the tumble into bed and the mistake that had been their last night together.

“That’s too bad. I’m so sorry it didn’t work out with you two.”

“It’s okay, Mom.” Mary had other things on her mind. “Really. Raph is a good guy and we made each other miserable more often than not.”

Jinx nodded but kept her back to Mary and Mary knew her mother was wondering about what to say. They hadn’t talked about Raphael since Mary’d broken down in her arms the night he walked out and Mary had no intention of telling her about Marshall, at least not until she and Marshall knew what they were doing, were serious, and possibly already married and moved far, far away.

Where had that come from?

“I invited Peter too, just so you know.”

“Good. It will be good to see him.”

Before the conversation could run in any awkward directions involving Brandi, Mary moved out to the backyard and turned on the grill. Jinx followed.

***
For a long moment, Marshall just stared at her. Her long legs disappeared up under a pair of short denim shorts. Her white tank top clung in all the right places, covering up a blue swimsuit. The hair that haunted his dreams was up in a high ponytail.

Oh to get her out of those clothes and into the water. Or into bed. Or onto the couch. Or against the wall.

Jinx sitting under the arbor by the pool ruined his fantasy of stripping Mary naked and having his way with her right there on the deck chairs. He wondered if her neighbors were nosy.

They still hadn’t talked. It wasn’t that she was avoiding him, he knew that. They’d been busy. But over a week since being allowed to taste her had led to near inappropriate behavior at work. Stan wouldn’t mind if he just pushed Mary up against wall right there in front of everyone, right?

What would the lovely Ms. Simmons say about Federal Policies then?

Oh, what the hell were they doing? If they were doing anything.

She turned when he stepped next to her and all Marshall wanted to do was pull her close and nibble at her neck, just where she turned it up to say hello. Without her heels, she was much shorter than he was used to and the lost inches made him want to protect her.

Yeah, he was hopeless. And Mary was going to kill him.

“Hey,” her voice was cautious.

“Hey. I … brought staples.”

“Thanks. Uh … if you want to make a drink …”

“Yeah.” He could feel Jinx watching them and escaped into the kitchen. Through the window he saw Mary check the heat of the grill, close the lid, and then come inside. Alone, and out of sight from the windows, he grabbed her and before she could object, his lips landed on hers.

She didn’t object. She didn’t push away. Her hands pulled his hips against hers and he slid his hands up her legs, just under the hem of her shorts. Could she feel what she was doing to him?

Mary moaned softly and Marshall pulled back. “We need to talk,” he whispered, somehow.

“We do,” she agreed, her hands tightening on his hips. “Can you stay all day?”

Marshall glanced through the wall, out to where Jinx sunned herself on the porch. “Yes.” For time alone with Mary, he’d fake some national security crisis. Mary kissed him again and Marshall forgot himself. His hands slid higher, to the curve of her ass, and one finger slipped under the fabric of the swimsuit. Her skin was so soft against his callused hands.

The only thing that stopped him from pushing her back to the bedroom and finishing what they both clearly wanted was the knowledge that Jinx was just outside and as oblivious as she could be, his blind grandmother would be able to tell if he and Mary disappeared to have their way with each other. He pulled away and chuckled.

“What?”

His hands moved against the flesh of her ass, molding her hips against his. “Well, that answered my question if the other night was a mistake.”

Mary leaned up and nipped at his lips. “I have no idea what’s going on here, Marshall. But the other night was not a mistake.”

“Good.” He was so close. Moving his hand just a little, he’d be able to slide between her legs. But starting that now was not a good idea. “Mary …” he forced air into his lungs, “if you don’t let go of me, I’m not going to be able to stop.”

She chuckled but pulled away. “Fair enough. I’m going to get back to the grill.”

“I’ll cut up some vegetables for you. There are kabobs in the bag.”

Mary moved to the counter; Marshall kept trying to breathe, forcing his body to settle down. “Thanks.” She retrieved the pre-packaged vegetables and slipped back outside. Marshall retrieved the tequila from the cupboard.

***
They kept ending up here, although this time it was pre-arranged. Jinx and Peter were engaged in AA talk out under the arbor and Mary had been more than happy to give them the privacy they needed in order to get the privacy she needed. It was how she and Marshall had volunteered to do the dishes and how she ended up on the counter, with Marshall between her legs as they explored each other through the barriers of clothing.

They still needed to talk. But this was so tempting.

Marshall’s hands slid up her thighs, parting them slightly and one long finger traced along the fabric of her suit, seeking permission. Biting his lip with an affirmative, Mary plundered his mouth while he stroked her through her suit, pressing the fabric before moving it aside and toying so carefully with the juncture of her thighs. She wanted more. Needed more.

“Marshall …” she whispered. That was talking, right?

He got the hint and slid a finger through her wetness, slowly, exploring, teasing. His teeth nipped her earlobe, working around the silver studs she was wearing. “You are so wet …” he whispered, incredulous, and she realized he had no idea how she’d ever really felt about him.

“Marshall,” she repeated his name and pulled back, leaning her head against the counter. His hand stilled, worried, and she traced her fingers up along his forearm until they joined inside her shorts. She was wet. Wetter than she’d realized. Despite the limited space the boundaries of their clothing allowed, she helped him find her clit and pressed his fingers onto the sensitive bundle of nerves. “Make me come.”

His mouth descended on hers again as he rolled his fingers over her, pressing against her. She could feel his erection through his jeans and wanted to free him, to stroke him to completion, but Mary was a selfish lover, and right now she wanted Marshall to get her off.

It didn’t take much. She’d been on edge since the kiss and Marshall’s presence all day had only pushed her tension higher. His long fingers and talented mouth brought her to the brink and she gasped his name, her fingers gripping his shoulders.

“That,” she murmured when he pulled back, his fingers still working her softly, “was seven years in the making.”

“I think I can do better.”

“Not with Jinx and Peter outside.”

“Mare …” he looked pained and her hand moved down his body to the bulge in his jeans. “You either gotta unwrap your legs or …”

Mary weighed her options. She didn’t want to send Marshall off to the bathroom to take care of the issue she was quite interested in and she wasn’t worried about time. Jinx and Peter could talk for hours and not miss them, but if they walked in while she was blowing Marshall …

She took the risk. Her fingers worked his belt buckle and the button on his jeans. Pushing him back just enough, Mary slid off the counter and onto her knees, helping him free himself. His hands sunk into her hair, claiming her, and for once, she didn’t mind feeling like someone’s possession.

He was circumcised. It didn’t surprise her. It didn’t surprise her that he smelled faintly of the vanilla and cedar soap he used or that he was in fact the eight inches most guys bragged about. His fingers tangled in her hair and she could tell he was forcing himself to not shove himself completely down her throat.

Under normal circumstances, she’d have dragged out it, brought him to the brink and made him wait. She’d have pulled out the cock ring in her toy drawer and left him gasping and wanting. They didn’t have that time. Suction and tension were her friends now and it wasn’t long before his hands warned her of his impending climax. She swallowed all of him before planting a kiss to his hips and gently tucking him back into his boxers.

Marshall balanced himself on his hands, looking down at her. “Mary …”

She smiled and raised herself up, kissing him softly. “I’m going to go brush my teeth,” she whispered.

“I’ll wash my hands.”

“You think we’ll be completely obvious?”

Marshall chuckled and stroked her cheek. “Right now, I don’t care.”

“Good.”

Before she could disappear, he kissed her again.

***
Jinx couldn’t get out the door soon enough. Mary hated to push her, but Peter was long gone and all Mary wanted was time along with Marshall. It wasn’t fair, but it was needed.

The door wasn’t even locked before Marshall’s hands were on her waist. “We have to talk,” he whispered in her ear even as his hands slid down the waist of her shorts, stroking the edge of her swimsuit. Mary turned in his arms and silenced him and somehow, her back was against the door and her leg up, around his hip, before they realized just how far it was already going.

“Marshall …” Somehow, logic kicked in and Mary pushed him back. He looked into her eyes and chuckled and when he stroked her cheek, she sighed.

“I don’t want to be your rebound, Mary. I’ll give you whatever time you need, but I don’t want to be your rebound.”

The soft, simple statement gave her pause. “You’re my best friend, Marshall. I …” She wanted to push him away, tell him what they were doing was wrong. If they stopped now, they could save what they had. She wouldn’t have to risk the unknown. They wouldn’t just be throwing down. They’d be changing everything. But the frightening truth was that it was the one thing she’d done in weeks that felt right.

“If I lose you …” He voiced their mutual concern and she tightened her grip on his hips, needing him to act, needing him to throw her onto the bed and have his way with her so they could cross the final barrier and be forced to work out the details later. If they talked first, they’d find a way to regret this and file it away and nothing would ever be the same again.

Raising her lips back to his, Mary kissed him and he slid a hand cautiously up under her tank top, fingers stroking her pebbled nipple through the swimsuit she’d never taken advantage of. Again he pulled back, as if seeking permission, and Mary almost threw him out. She needed for him to take control – and to not be cautious about it.

“Marshall …”

He got the hint. Marshall pushed her back against the door again, angling his hips so she could feel every part of his erection through the barriers of their clothes. Her tank top yanked from her body and somehow he was shirtless and his hands pulled the straps of her suit down and for a second, Mary held her breath.

She didn’t want him to see her scar.

But his focus was not on anything other than getting them both out of their clothes as quickly as possible. Part of her brain reminded her that sex was much more fun on comfortable surfaces and she tugged him, tripping over jeans and shoes into her bedroom. He collapsed on top of her, nudging her legs open with his own and she prayed he wouldn’t be … him … and stop to analyze the situation.

“Are you sure about this?” He murmured into her ear even as he slid one arm down and hooked her leg up over his shoulder. The position opened her completely and she arched her hips, aching.

He was right to ask. They’d already erased the boundary between them but this would completely change everything.

Mary nodded.

Marshall slid into her without a second thought.

***
Marshall Mann was sixteen when he lost his virginity. She was an exchange student from Iceland and while the rest of the chess club had argued over the finer points of different European strategies, they’d snuck off into the nearest empty classroom and bumbled around in the dark. She’d left for Iceland at the end of the year and he’d spent his junior year fawning over Annie Lambrose – tall, blonde, and beautiful.

She’d never known he was alive.

When he first met Mary Shannon, he saw her as Annie – ice cold and untouchable. Beautiful. Frozen in his mind. He’d been content to love her from afar.

Until this very moment.

Mary rolled them and he groaned, aching at the loss of contact. Her slender form poised above him, her breasts swaying, her body trembling with unreleased tension. Her hands balanced on his chest and he held her gaze, knowing they’d never go back from this moment. He’d either transfer offices or marry this woman – he just wasn’t sure which. He wanted to tell her he loved her, but better angels prevailed.

Anyway, she already knew.

Slowly, she sank onto him, her muscles repositioning, and her legs tightening around his hips. He wanted to explore her, to find every place that made her skin tremble, but that was for later.

He wanted to blame the drinks during the day, but this was a long time coming. The relief he’d felt when she told him Raphael had left, the anger he felt whenever Faber called her, all of it came into this moment. Through lidded eyes he watched her hand travel down her body and his fingers joined hers. He wanted her to come first.

She did. She tensed and gasped and he arched his hips up against hers while she rode him in the shuddering motions demanded by her internal muscles. But, when she called his name, he followed her over the cliff.

It was a fantasy he’d never thought would be fulfilled.

Mary collapsed on top of him, her lips pressed into his solar plexus. “Don’t ever leave me.”

The whisper was so soft he knew he could ignore it, but he didn’t dare. “Never, Mary,” he whispered. “You’re stuck with me. Friend, love, partner, whatever. I’ll never leave you.”

She chuckled and kissed his chest again. “So does this count as our talk?”

“I don’t think so.” Gently, Marshall ran his fingers up her spine, avoiding the bullet scar. It was one thing he’d explore later, when he was ready to face how close he’d come to losing her. Right now, he just needed to hold her. “But we’ll take it slowly, Mare.”

“I’m not so good at slow.”

“So maybe it’s finally time to start.”

She sighed and snuggled into his chest. “Am I too heavy right here?”

“No,” he kissed her temple, “it’s perfect.”

“We don’t need to talk,” she murmured, her voice half asleep. “We’ve spent seven years talking.”

A soft smile touched his face and he kissed her again. She was right.

For now.

He’d see how they faced the morning.

~fin~