12 Days, Day 11: Barely a Holiday (1/3)
Title: Barely a Holiday - A Fanmix & Fic!
Pairings/Characters: Mary/Marshall, Stan, Eleanor, Brandi, Peter, OC
Rating: PG13
Spoilers: General episode mentions, but nothing major.
A/N: 1) I have to send out a huge THANK YOU! to lunar_penguin for giving most of this a once over. It wass much appreciated! However, I've tweaked quite a bit of it since she'd seen it, so all mistakes are still mine. 2) For the purposes of the following, Mary does not speak Spanish. At least not more than conversationally. 3 ) I'm not sure if there was any real indication of the dates of either Mary or Marshall's shootings, so I've set the anniversaries in an order that sort of made sense to me for the sake of the mix.
Confession: I am most decidedly not skilled with PSP, so the fanmix cover art... Is not very good. But, to make up for it, I bring music and lots of fic! :)
Disclaimer: I own nothing of interest. No. Really. You're welcome to come look if you don't believe me. Just keep an eye on the dog. She likes to yelp at people's heels just to watch them jump.
.zip file
Barely a Holiday
It took less than four months for everyone in the office to realize that Inspector Mary Shannon did not do holidays. Not just didn't like them. Vehemently did not participate in any holiday in any manner. Most of the staff thought that her refusal to celebrate was an extension of her rather acerbic personality; but, Marshall knew that the reasons were far more darkly rooted than that. They may not have been partners for long, but he'd gleaned bits and pieces of her past from overheard, one sided portions of phone conversations that she had with her sister. And Mary had also started to open up, little by little, by sharing a few stories from her youth. Most she presented as amusing anecdotes, but he could see through the forced cheerfulness and carefully worded truths to the ache underneath. Mary didn't like the holidays because she had never been presented with a season worth celebrating; and, if she had, she had learned early on to expect only disappointment instead of joy.
So, after a year or so of partnership, Marshall took it upon himself to wage a kind-hearted war against Mary's dismal holiday past. He started so subtly that it took most of a year before she realized that he'd been tricking her into a passive sort of celebratory participation. It was another six months before he realized that she'd become wise to his game. It took only 30 seconds for him to note that she hadn't voiced any objections.
With that small victory he upped his game, and his efforts to pull her into the holidays, any holiday, became less restrained and more open. He was happy to discover that she didn't retreat back into her world of outright holiday rejection unless he forced her to approach the holidays typically enjoyed by a majority of the nation. A year's worth of experimentation proved that she would close him out at the mere mention of a Christmas tree or box of Valentine's Day chocolates. Her birthday, as always, was hit or miss. So, instead of trying to drag her kicking and screaming into conformity, he moved his focus to holidays that most people either didn't know about or ignored. If need be, he'd blithely invented his own in order to suit his own purposes or hers.
After starting with notes and cards, he moved on to small, personal gifts that were just what they seemed. A token of friendship, given freely and without expectation of reciprocation. To his amazement, she accepted each one.
Arbor Day (The Trees)
Mary was bent over and dangerously off balance as she attempted to reach all the way under the passenger seat of her Probe. She didn't honestly think that she'd find her iPod under there, but it was the last place left to look. She groped around, the rough carpeting scratchy against her fingertips. For her efforts she found an empty water bottle, a crumpled receipt and a dime. But no iPod.
“Damn it.”
As she cautiously moved to stand up, trying not getting caught in the seat belt stretching over the entryway to the back seat, she heard another vehicle brake a few spaces away.
“You do know that at least half of the male population of the Sunshine Building is currently gazing out of every available window just to get a view of your ass, don't you?”
Mary threw a glare over her shoulder and, finally managing to extricate herself from the back seat of her car, stood up to face her partner.
“Let them. I'm looking for...” She trailed off as Marshall waved his left hand, and the missing iPod, at her.
“You left this in the truck.” He handed it over at her impatient gesture. “I took the liberty of adding to your library in celebration of the day.”
Aware of his penchant for gifting odd holiday tunes, she cocked her head to one side in thought but failed to think of a single holiday tied to the day. Not that that meant anything. She was certain that some of the holidays they had previously celebrated existed only for the two of them.
His expectant expression brought her focus back to the parking lot and, knowing that he was impatiently waiting, she popped the ear buds into her ears and hit play. As she listened, her brows crinkled as the song's lyrics caused more instead of less confusion. Forests and trees? What the hell?
As she listened, he gestured her to follow him around the back of his SUV. In the back were a shovel and a selection of saplings. She removed the ear buds, the question in her eyes.
He shrugged. “Thought you could use some more shade in the back yard. Happy Arbor Day, Mar!”
“Arbor Day. Really?”
He nodded, geeky smile firmly in place.
She sighed because he was expecting it and then climbed into the SUV to go plant trees. She really did need more shade in the back corner of the yard.
Beverage Day (It's Five O'Clock Somewhere)
“God, what a day.” That last word was a bit muffled as Mary had fallen face first onto the motel bed. The early morning sunlight shone weakly through the crack in the heavy drapes, and she seriously debated allowing herself to sleep just as she was. Her partner's chuckle almost caught enough of her attention to cause her to raise her head and respond, but it would have taken too much effort. They had been sent out on a simple witness transfer and had ended up in the middle of the assignment from Hell. Over the past three days, they'd been chased, shot at, hit over the head (Marshall), knocked down by a hit to the knees (Mary), almost kidnapped (the witness) and run off the road multiple times during a high speed pursuit. Needless to say, they hadn't been the pursuers. The one thing that hadn't been thrown at them was sleep. And it showed. Both Marshals were dragging, so much that Mary didn't even question when Marshall pulled a box out of the back of the SUV and lugged it up the stairs to their chintzy motel room. Still face down on the bedspread, Mary ignored the sounds of her partner puttering around the room and tried to work up the energy for a shower and change of clothes. She'd just about decided to simply crawl under the covers fully clothed when an overwhelmingly loud whir broke the silence, causing her to fall onto the floor in her effort to stand up. Heart pounding, she whirled around to find her partner standing over the round table in the corner, cheerfully adding tequila to a blender.
“Marshall! Have you lost what little bit remains of your mind? It's...” She looked at the clock on the nightstand. “...7:37 in the morning!”
Marshall looked at the clock, shrugged and recapped the alcohol. “And? It's Beverage Day, Mar.” He turned off the blender, pulled a glass out of the box and poured the icy concoction. Holding it out to her, he offered, “Margarita?”
Kiss and Make Up Day (One Week)
I'm going to kill your kids.
Stan looked up as his computer chimed and read the message that had popped up on the interoffice IM. With a sigh he glanced into the main room. Seeing that all was quiet, he typed back: Now what'd they do?
Nothing. And that's the problem!
They aren't speaking.
AGAIN!
Rubbing his forehead, he debated which would be worse, telling Eleanor to just go with it or actually going out there to reprimand his Inspectors for acting like kids in grade school. Deciding that while Marshall and, especially, Mary could be scary on their best days, they had nothing on their office administrator. Not to mention, she could make both his professional and personal lives a living Hell. So, he typed a quick be there in a min and got up to mediate yet another M & M spat.
Opening his office door, he barked, “Inspectors.” They looked up, one sullen and the other obviously pissed. “Is there any reason you two can't talk whatever it is out like adults?”
Neither seemed surprised by his out of the blue question, although Mary did turn a quick glare on Eleanor. Unsurprisingly, it was Marshall who responded, “We wouldn't have to if she'd just open her damn desk drawer already instead of sulking.” His glare was turned on Mary.
Stan couldn't keep the surprise off of his face upon hearing Marshall's snide tone. He then turned an expectant brow in Mary's direction. She thrust her chin out stubbornly, but when he moved to step out of his office she obligingly turned to her desk.
Three minutes later she'd found her iPod, read the post-it note stuck to the front, listened to a song and, strangely, told her partner that he would need to give her more than a song if he wanted a kiss out of the deal. At that Marshall had chucked, and they both went back to work like nothing had ever been wrong.
Stan exchanged a look with Eleanor, shrugged an “I don't know” to her unasked “What just happened?”, and went back into his office. He had long ago accepted that he was never going to understand the relationship shared by his two kids, but as long as they were talking again...
As he sat back down at his desk, he noticed the flashing orange at the bottom of the computer screen. Opening the IM window, he chuckled as two smilies greeted him. One proffered a rose, and the other was making a kissy face.
Talk Like a Pirate Day (He's a Pirate)
Mary walked into the office on autopilot and pulled out her chair before stopping dead in her tracks.
“What the...”
Her desk looked like the deranged mother of a five-year-old boy had broken into the office to decorate for a birthday party. It was festooned in all things nautical with a suspiciously heavy-handed nod to a pirate theme. Pirate hats. Eye patches. Swords. Masted sailing ships. Cannons. Glitter parrots. There was even a one-eyed pirate doll with a “My Name Is Dan” sticker on its chest. Of course, that last gave away the fact that no strange woman was to blame.
“Marshall,” she growled under her breath. And then jumped when he said, “Yes?”
She'd been so sidetracked by the sheer amount of crap on her desk that she'd missed the tell-tale beep and opening of the office door.
She turned to ask him why the junk when he said, “Say ARGH!” Then a brilliant light illuminated the room. She blinked to try to clear the sparkles, but it was a lost cause. He'd timed the picture just right and caught her as she'd turned fully toward the flash.
“Marshall!”
“That didn't sound like ARGH, Mar.” He continued with an amused whine, “How are we supposed to celebrate Talk Like a Pirate Day if you won't do the voice?”
She swore at him and threw Dan the Pirate his direction for good measure.
Pairings/Characters: Mary/Marshall, Stan, Eleanor, Brandi, Peter, OC
Rating: PG13
Spoilers: General episode mentions, but nothing major.
A/N: 1) I have to send out a huge THANK YOU! to lunar_penguin for giving most of this a once over. It wass much appreciated! However, I've tweaked quite a bit of it since she'd seen it, so all mistakes are still mine. 2) For the purposes of the following, Mary does not speak Spanish. At least not more than conversationally. 3 ) I'm not sure if there was any real indication of the dates of either Mary or Marshall's shootings, so I've set the anniversaries in an order that sort of made sense to me for the sake of the mix.
Confession: I am most decidedly not skilled with PSP, so the fanmix cover art... Is not very good. But, to make up for it, I bring music and lots of fic! :)
Disclaimer: I own nothing of interest. No. Really. You're welcome to come look if you don't believe me. Just keep an eye on the dog. She likes to yelp at people's heels just to watch them jump.
.zip file
Barely a Holiday
It took less than four months for everyone in the office to realize that Inspector Mary Shannon did not do holidays. Not just didn't like them. Vehemently did not participate in any holiday in any manner. Most of the staff thought that her refusal to celebrate was an extension of her rather acerbic personality; but, Marshall knew that the reasons were far more darkly rooted than that. They may not have been partners for long, but he'd gleaned bits and pieces of her past from overheard, one sided portions of phone conversations that she had with her sister. And Mary had also started to open up, little by little, by sharing a few stories from her youth. Most she presented as amusing anecdotes, but he could see through the forced cheerfulness and carefully worded truths to the ache underneath. Mary didn't like the holidays because she had never been presented with a season worth celebrating; and, if she had, she had learned early on to expect only disappointment instead of joy.
So, after a year or so of partnership, Marshall took it upon himself to wage a kind-hearted war against Mary's dismal holiday past. He started so subtly that it took most of a year before she realized that he'd been tricking her into a passive sort of celebratory participation. It was another six months before he realized that she'd become wise to his game. It took only 30 seconds for him to note that she hadn't voiced any objections.
With that small victory he upped his game, and his efforts to pull her into the holidays, any holiday, became less restrained and more open. He was happy to discover that she didn't retreat back into her world of outright holiday rejection unless he forced her to approach the holidays typically enjoyed by a majority of the nation. A year's worth of experimentation proved that she would close him out at the mere mention of a Christmas tree or box of Valentine's Day chocolates. Her birthday, as always, was hit or miss. So, instead of trying to drag her kicking and screaming into conformity, he moved his focus to holidays that most people either didn't know about or ignored. If need be, he'd blithely invented his own in order to suit his own purposes or hers.
After starting with notes and cards, he moved on to small, personal gifts that were just what they seemed. A token of friendship, given freely and without expectation of reciprocation. To his amazement, she accepted each one.
Arbor Day (The Trees)
Mary was bent over and dangerously off balance as she attempted to reach all the way under the passenger seat of her Probe. She didn't honestly think that she'd find her iPod under there, but it was the last place left to look. She groped around, the rough carpeting scratchy against her fingertips. For her efforts she found an empty water bottle, a crumpled receipt and a dime. But no iPod.
“Damn it.”
As she cautiously moved to stand up, trying not getting caught in the seat belt stretching over the entryway to the back seat, she heard another vehicle brake a few spaces away.
“You do know that at least half of the male population of the Sunshine Building is currently gazing out of every available window just to get a view of your ass, don't you?”
Mary threw a glare over her shoulder and, finally managing to extricate herself from the back seat of her car, stood up to face her partner.
“Let them. I'm looking for...” She trailed off as Marshall waved his left hand, and the missing iPod, at her.
“You left this in the truck.” He handed it over at her impatient gesture. “I took the liberty of adding to your library in celebration of the day.”
Aware of his penchant for gifting odd holiday tunes, she cocked her head to one side in thought but failed to think of a single holiday tied to the day. Not that that meant anything. She was certain that some of the holidays they had previously celebrated existed only for the two of them.
His expectant expression brought her focus back to the parking lot and, knowing that he was impatiently waiting, she popped the ear buds into her ears and hit play. As she listened, her brows crinkled as the song's lyrics caused more instead of less confusion. Forests and trees? What the hell?
As she listened, he gestured her to follow him around the back of his SUV. In the back were a shovel and a selection of saplings. She removed the ear buds, the question in her eyes.
He shrugged. “Thought you could use some more shade in the back yard. Happy Arbor Day, Mar!”
“Arbor Day. Really?”
He nodded, geeky smile firmly in place.
She sighed because he was expecting it and then climbed into the SUV to go plant trees. She really did need more shade in the back corner of the yard.
Beverage Day (It's Five O'Clock Somewhere)
“God, what a day.” That last word was a bit muffled as Mary had fallen face first onto the motel bed. The early morning sunlight shone weakly through the crack in the heavy drapes, and she seriously debated allowing herself to sleep just as she was. Her partner's chuckle almost caught enough of her attention to cause her to raise her head and respond, but it would have taken too much effort. They had been sent out on a simple witness transfer and had ended up in the middle of the assignment from Hell. Over the past three days, they'd been chased, shot at, hit over the head (Marshall), knocked down by a hit to the knees (Mary), almost kidnapped (the witness) and run off the road multiple times during a high speed pursuit. Needless to say, they hadn't been the pursuers. The one thing that hadn't been thrown at them was sleep. And it showed. Both Marshals were dragging, so much that Mary didn't even question when Marshall pulled a box out of the back of the SUV and lugged it up the stairs to their chintzy motel room. Still face down on the bedspread, Mary ignored the sounds of her partner puttering around the room and tried to work up the energy for a shower and change of clothes. She'd just about decided to simply crawl under the covers fully clothed when an overwhelmingly loud whir broke the silence, causing her to fall onto the floor in her effort to stand up. Heart pounding, she whirled around to find her partner standing over the round table in the corner, cheerfully adding tequila to a blender.
“Marshall! Have you lost what little bit remains of your mind? It's...” She looked at the clock on the nightstand. “...7:37 in the morning!”
Marshall looked at the clock, shrugged and recapped the alcohol. “And? It's Beverage Day, Mar.” He turned off the blender, pulled a glass out of the box and poured the icy concoction. Holding it out to her, he offered, “Margarita?”
Kiss and Make Up Day (One Week)
I'm going to kill your kids.
Stan looked up as his computer chimed and read the message that had popped up on the interoffice IM. With a sigh he glanced into the main room. Seeing that all was quiet, he typed back: Now what'd they do?
Nothing. And that's the problem!
They aren't speaking.
AGAIN!
Rubbing his forehead, he debated which would be worse, telling Eleanor to just go with it or actually going out there to reprimand his Inspectors for acting like kids in grade school. Deciding that while Marshall and, especially, Mary could be scary on their best days, they had nothing on their office administrator. Not to mention, she could make both his professional and personal lives a living Hell. So, he typed a quick be there in a min and got up to mediate yet another M & M spat.
Opening his office door, he barked, “Inspectors.” They looked up, one sullen and the other obviously pissed. “Is there any reason you two can't talk whatever it is out like adults?”
Neither seemed surprised by his out of the blue question, although Mary did turn a quick glare on Eleanor. Unsurprisingly, it was Marshall who responded, “We wouldn't have to if she'd just open her damn desk drawer already instead of sulking.” His glare was turned on Mary.
Stan couldn't keep the surprise off of his face upon hearing Marshall's snide tone. He then turned an expectant brow in Mary's direction. She thrust her chin out stubbornly, but when he moved to step out of his office she obligingly turned to her desk.
Three minutes later she'd found her iPod, read the post-it note stuck to the front, listened to a song and, strangely, told her partner that he would need to give her more than a song if he wanted a kiss out of the deal. At that Marshall had chucked, and they both went back to work like nothing had ever been wrong.
Stan exchanged a look with Eleanor, shrugged an “I don't know” to her unasked “What just happened?”, and went back into his office. He had long ago accepted that he was never going to understand the relationship shared by his two kids, but as long as they were talking again...
As he sat back down at his desk, he noticed the flashing orange at the bottom of the computer screen. Opening the IM window, he chuckled as two smilies greeted him. One proffered a rose, and the other was making a kissy face.
Talk Like a Pirate Day (He's a Pirate)
Mary walked into the office on autopilot and pulled out her chair before stopping dead in her tracks.
“What the...”
Her desk looked like the deranged mother of a five-year-old boy had broken into the office to decorate for a birthday party. It was festooned in all things nautical with a suspiciously heavy-handed nod to a pirate theme. Pirate hats. Eye patches. Swords. Masted sailing ships. Cannons. Glitter parrots. There was even a one-eyed pirate doll with a “My Name Is Dan” sticker on its chest. Of course, that last gave away the fact that no strange woman was to blame.
“Marshall,” she growled under her breath. And then jumped when he said, “Yes?”
She'd been so sidetracked by the sheer amount of crap on her desk that she'd missed the tell-tale beep and opening of the office door.
She turned to ask him why the junk when he said, “Say ARGH!” Then a brilliant light illuminated the room. She blinked to try to clear the sparkles, but it was a lost cause. He'd timed the picture just right and caught her as she'd turned fully toward the flash.
“Marshall!”
“That didn't sound like ARGH, Mar.” He continued with an amused whine, “How are we supposed to celebrate Talk Like a Pirate Day if you won't do the voice?”
She swore at him and threw Dan the Pirate his direction for good measure.