Fic: Pick Yourself Up and Get On With Your Life (In Plain Sight, Gen, 2000 words, General Audiences)
Disclaimer: Not mine, no money being made.
Summary: "So," Marshall said. "Mark's still on your couch."
Notes: This was written for shameless2shoes for Yuletide 2011. Many thanks to siryn99 for constant encouragement.
Spoilers: Through season 4.
We never know just what's going to happen to us. We can make all the plans in the world, but those plans just don't matter when the world gets ahold of us. You can have the most meticulously planned wedding, and then the bride doesn't show, or the maid of honor goes into labor, or the venue gets shut down for money laundering. You have two choices at that point. You can cry over spilled milk and ruin your dress, or you can pick yourself up and get on with your life.
*
Monday
"Brandi, you need to answer your phone." Mary sighed. "Squish," she said with as much gentleness as she ever managed, "I'm not mad. Just call me. I need to know you're okay." Mary hung up her phone and surveyed the mess on her kitchen counter. "You know, I don't remember opening a restaurant or hiring a personal chef."
"It's your first day back." Mark turned away from the stove to smile at her. "I wanted to send you with a good breakfast."
"Great. Now you're my dad."
"I'm somebody's dad," Mark said, and he turned away from the stove again so she could see him wince. "I didn't mean-"
"It's fine," Mary said. "We gave him up for adoption. He didn't die. You don't have to never mention him again." She picked up a slice of bacon. "Hey, this is pretty good." She pointed at him with it. "I still didn't agree to this permanent houseguest thing, and now that I'm going back to work you don't even have an excuse."
Mark ignored her and dished up an omelet that he put on the counter in front of her with a fork, the plate of bacon, and a cup of coffee, made just the way she liked it. Mary glared at him suspiciously before she started to eat. He could cook, and she would need her energy for her first day back on the job. Who knew what kind of idiots she would have to deal with.
The doorbell rang just as she was finishing her omelet, and Mary got up to let Marshall in.
Marshall seemed about to say something, but then he frowned. "Is that bacon I smell? You never cook bacon."
"No," Mary said, "but I do eat it."
Marshall followed her into the house, shutting the door unnecessarily; they were just going to leave again.
"Mark," he said, with an evenness that Mary could see through. "Hello."
"Hey, Marshall. You want some breakfast? There are more eggs. I can make you an omelet."
"No," Mary said. "You are not making any more omelets. We are leaving, and you," she pointed at Mark, "are going to make other plans." She grabbed up her bag and swallowed the last of her coffee. "Let's go." She got halfway to the door before she turned around and grabbed the plate of bacon.
Mark didn't protest, only took two slices before she could take the whole thing.
"What?" Mary said when they were outside and Marshall was giving her a questioning look. "It's good bacon."
They took Mary's car; they always did. Mary made Marshall hold the bacon while she drove with one hand and ate bacon with the other.
"So," Marshall said. "Mark's still on your couch."
"It's not my idea. I, for one, would like to have my couch available for sitting on."
"You do have a guest room. You could put him in there."
"I don't want him in my guest room." Mary emphasized the point by waving her bacon around. "Then he'll think he can stay."
"Being on the couch hasn't seemed to discourage him."
"I know." Mary crunched down on the bacon and refused to talk about Mark the whole rest of the way, and then they were getting out of the elevator in the office and Mark wasn't anyone's first choice of conversational topic.
"Mary." Stan came toward her, arms held wide. "It's good to have you back."
"Oh, no, please." Mary stepped back. "Do we have to do the whole hugging thing?"
"Yes, we do." Stan waved her in. "Come on. Just one hug."
Mary submitted to it with a sigh.
"Mary," Delia said from behind Stan with a smile so big Mary wasn't quite sure how it fit on her face. "It is so good to have you back! We've all missed you. I made you some welcome back muffins."
"Yeah, I'm sure you really missed me." Mary took a muffin. Delia might be too cheery for her taste, but the muffins were delicious.
"Oh, but we did." Stan gestured her into the room. "I'll even let you get settled in before you go see your first witness."
"Oh, goodie." Mary sat down at her desk, which was as familiar as if she'd just left it yesterday. She took a bite out of her muffin while her computer booted up. "God, these are good."
"Thank you!" Delia chirped. "They have carrots in them. A little beta carotene to start your day."
"Yeah," Mary said, with half a smile that was more like a grimace. "Beta carotene. That's what I like about them."
*
Tuesday
"Brandi, I know you're still checking this voice mail because it isn't full. Call me back." Mary stabbed her phone off and dropped it onto her desk, then looked up to see Marshall's raised eyebrow.
"Still no word from your wayward sister?"
"No. Jinx hasn't heard from her either. Or if she has, she's lying about it."
Marshall nodded, and then hesitated.
"Spit it out."
"Have you talked to Peter?"
Mary pulled a face. "No."
"You know, you're going to have to if she doesn't come back."
Mary groaned. "I know. It's like kicking a puppy, and I'm going to have to go over there and get her stuff too."
"Yes," Marshall said, drawing out the single vowel. "I saw him at the wedding. I don't envy you."
"Thanks, Marshall. Very supportive."
*
Wednesday
"No," Mary said as she came into the house. "You're still here."
"Hi, Mark. How was your day?"
"No. No 'How was your day?' What are you doing here?"
"Making dinner." Mark slung a kitchen towel over his shoulder. "Sit down. It'll be ready in a few minutes."
"I'm still not paying you to be my personal chef."
"Consider it an exchange for the couch."
"I don't want you on my couch either."
Mark opened the fridge. "Do you want a beer?"
"God, yes." Mary settled onto one of the bar stools. "You know, all the peeing and not being able to see my feet, and I really missed this." She took a long drink from her beer.
"Brandi called," Mark said while her mouth was full.
Mary swallowed too quickly and coughed on it. "She called here?"
"Yeah, this afternoon." Mark turned away from her to attend to something at the stove. "I think she was hoping she could just leave a message."
"What did she say? Is she coming back?"
"She said to tell you she was fine."
"That's it? Did she say what kind of fine? Or where she is? Or if she ever plans on coming home?"
Mark turned back and shrugged. "No. She said she was fine, she didn't expect me to still be here, and you can stop filling up her voice mail box."
"Like hell I'm going to stop." Mary put her beer down a little too hard, but not hard enough to break the bottle or chip the tile. "Did you tell her about the baby?"
"I tried." Mark started putting food onto plates. "She wouldn't let me." He slid one of the plates in front of Mary and sat down next to her with the other.
"If she calls again, tell her I want to talk to her, and I mean it."
"Will do." Mark picked up his beer. "Cheers."
Mary eyed him suspiciously - it was just dinner, not a celebration - and clinked her bottle to his. "Cheers."
If nothing else, he had learned to cook somewhere along the line.
*
Thursday
"Look, Abigail and I would like to have you over for dinner. You can bring Mark if you want."
"No," Mary said. "No, no, no. You are not making us your couple friends. We aren't even a couple."
"So come alone."
Mary continued to frown.
"You're my friend," Marshall said, "and as much as you may not like her, Abigail is my significant other."
"Significant other, really?"
"Mary," Marshall said.
Mary made a face but gestured at him to continue.
"I would like you two to get along."
"She came to my sister's wedding." Mary sighed at the look Marshall shot her. "Fine. I will come to dinner." She pointed at him. "But I'm not bringing Mark."
Marshall held his hands up, palms out. "No Mark, got it. Tomorrow night, seven o'clock, our place."
"Is this one of those things where I have to bring wine and we all pretend we're in one of those annoying TV shows where people talk about real estate?"
"A hostess gift is traditional, but I doubt there will be any conversation about real estate."
*
Friday
"I don't even know why I'm bringing you."
"Face it, Mary," Mark said, "you like me. I'm fun."
"Fun, yeah," Mary muttered. "Fun is what got us into this mess."
"Sex got us into this mess," Mark said. "Both times."
Mary sighed. "Yeah, and maybe that's a lesson we should learn."
"Hey," Mark said, insistent enough that Mary glanced at him. "You made, we made, a responsible decision. The Templetons are going to be great parents. And I'm still here. You're taking me to your best friend's house for dinner. I think we're learning plenty."
Mary pulled into Marshall and Abigail's driveway. "I'm not marrying you again."
Mark grinned at her. "Who says I'd want you to?"
Mary shot him a glare and left him to carry the wine.
The door opened before she was halfway up the walk, spilling light and Marshall and Abigail out of it.
"Jesus," Mary said. "What kind of suburbia have we walked into?"
"It's a very nice neighborhood," Marshall said. He met her just outside the door and hugged her tightly before letting her go past him, where she accepted a lighter hug from Abigail before entering the house.
"Yeah, if you're going to raise two-point-four kids. Oh, God, don't tell me we're here so you can tell me you're going to start popping out rugrats. You already have the dog." Mary crouched down to scratch behind Oscar's ears.
"Nope," Abigail said. "Haven't talked about it yet, and not ready even if we had."
"This is why we can't go anywhere nice," Mark said.
"You're telling me." Marshall took the wine from him.
Mary glared at both of them. "I'll have you know I spent an entire evening at a very expensive country club with Brandi's prospective in-laws and didn't embarrass myself once."
"Have you heard from Brandi?" Abigail asked.
Mary stood up and they all moved into the kitchen. "Mark talked to her, and she said she was fine, whatever that means in Brandi's world."
"You're her sister." Marshall rested his hand on her shoulder for a moment. "She'll call you."
*
The thing about the world turning your plans upside down is that sometimes things turn out okay. The bride calls home and says she's fine. The maid of honor gets to the hospital in time. The wedding moves to someone's backyard. In the end, what matters about our circumstances isn't the change or the chaos. It's the people in them. Those people who are, or become, our families. Those people who cook us breakfast, invite us to dinner, and sit with us while we give birth and sign adoption paperwork. When you have them, you don't have any choice but to just keep going, because they're the ones who will be there with you - and will need you to be there when their circumstances change.
Summary: "So," Marshall said. "Mark's still on your couch."
Notes: This was written for shameless2shoes for Yuletide 2011. Many thanks to siryn99 for constant encouragement.
Spoilers: Through season 4.
We never know just what's going to happen to us. We can make all the plans in the world, but those plans just don't matter when the world gets ahold of us. You can have the most meticulously planned wedding, and then the bride doesn't show, or the maid of honor goes into labor, or the venue gets shut down for money laundering. You have two choices at that point. You can cry over spilled milk and ruin your dress, or you can pick yourself up and get on with your life.
*
Monday
"Brandi, you need to answer your phone." Mary sighed. "Squish," she said with as much gentleness as she ever managed, "I'm not mad. Just call me. I need to know you're okay." Mary hung up her phone and surveyed the mess on her kitchen counter. "You know, I don't remember opening a restaurant or hiring a personal chef."
"It's your first day back." Mark turned away from the stove to smile at her. "I wanted to send you with a good breakfast."
"Great. Now you're my dad."
"I'm somebody's dad," Mark said, and he turned away from the stove again so she could see him wince. "I didn't mean-"
"It's fine," Mary said. "We gave him up for adoption. He didn't die. You don't have to never mention him again." She picked up a slice of bacon. "Hey, this is pretty good." She pointed at him with it. "I still didn't agree to this permanent houseguest thing, and now that I'm going back to work you don't even have an excuse."
Mark ignored her and dished up an omelet that he put on the counter in front of her with a fork, the plate of bacon, and a cup of coffee, made just the way she liked it. Mary glared at him suspiciously before she started to eat. He could cook, and she would need her energy for her first day back on the job. Who knew what kind of idiots she would have to deal with.
The doorbell rang just as she was finishing her omelet, and Mary got up to let Marshall in.
Marshall seemed about to say something, but then he frowned. "Is that bacon I smell? You never cook bacon."
"No," Mary said, "but I do eat it."
Marshall followed her into the house, shutting the door unnecessarily; they were just going to leave again.
"Mark," he said, with an evenness that Mary could see through. "Hello."
"Hey, Marshall. You want some breakfast? There are more eggs. I can make you an omelet."
"No," Mary said. "You are not making any more omelets. We are leaving, and you," she pointed at Mark, "are going to make other plans." She grabbed up her bag and swallowed the last of her coffee. "Let's go." She got halfway to the door before she turned around and grabbed the plate of bacon.
Mark didn't protest, only took two slices before she could take the whole thing.
"What?" Mary said when they were outside and Marshall was giving her a questioning look. "It's good bacon."
They took Mary's car; they always did. Mary made Marshall hold the bacon while she drove with one hand and ate bacon with the other.
"So," Marshall said. "Mark's still on your couch."
"It's not my idea. I, for one, would like to have my couch available for sitting on."
"You do have a guest room. You could put him in there."
"I don't want him in my guest room." Mary emphasized the point by waving her bacon around. "Then he'll think he can stay."
"Being on the couch hasn't seemed to discourage him."
"I know." Mary crunched down on the bacon and refused to talk about Mark the whole rest of the way, and then they were getting out of the elevator in the office and Mark wasn't anyone's first choice of conversational topic.
"Mary." Stan came toward her, arms held wide. "It's good to have you back."
"Oh, no, please." Mary stepped back. "Do we have to do the whole hugging thing?"
"Yes, we do." Stan waved her in. "Come on. Just one hug."
Mary submitted to it with a sigh.
"Mary," Delia said from behind Stan with a smile so big Mary wasn't quite sure how it fit on her face. "It is so good to have you back! We've all missed you. I made you some welcome back muffins."
"Yeah, I'm sure you really missed me." Mary took a muffin. Delia might be too cheery for her taste, but the muffins were delicious.
"Oh, but we did." Stan gestured her into the room. "I'll even let you get settled in before you go see your first witness."
"Oh, goodie." Mary sat down at her desk, which was as familiar as if she'd just left it yesterday. She took a bite out of her muffin while her computer booted up. "God, these are good."
"Thank you!" Delia chirped. "They have carrots in them. A little beta carotene to start your day."
"Yeah," Mary said, with half a smile that was more like a grimace. "Beta carotene. That's what I like about them."
*
Tuesday
"Brandi, I know you're still checking this voice mail because it isn't full. Call me back." Mary stabbed her phone off and dropped it onto her desk, then looked up to see Marshall's raised eyebrow.
"Still no word from your wayward sister?"
"No. Jinx hasn't heard from her either. Or if she has, she's lying about it."
Marshall nodded, and then hesitated.
"Spit it out."
"Have you talked to Peter?"
Mary pulled a face. "No."
"You know, you're going to have to if she doesn't come back."
Mary groaned. "I know. It's like kicking a puppy, and I'm going to have to go over there and get her stuff too."
"Yes," Marshall said, drawing out the single vowel. "I saw him at the wedding. I don't envy you."
"Thanks, Marshall. Very supportive."
*
Wednesday
"No," Mary said as she came into the house. "You're still here."
"Hi, Mark. How was your day?"
"No. No 'How was your day?' What are you doing here?"
"Making dinner." Mark slung a kitchen towel over his shoulder. "Sit down. It'll be ready in a few minutes."
"I'm still not paying you to be my personal chef."
"Consider it an exchange for the couch."
"I don't want you on my couch either."
Mark opened the fridge. "Do you want a beer?"
"God, yes." Mary settled onto one of the bar stools. "You know, all the peeing and not being able to see my feet, and I really missed this." She took a long drink from her beer.
"Brandi called," Mark said while her mouth was full.
Mary swallowed too quickly and coughed on it. "She called here?"
"Yeah, this afternoon." Mark turned away from her to attend to something at the stove. "I think she was hoping she could just leave a message."
"What did she say? Is she coming back?"
"She said to tell you she was fine."
"That's it? Did she say what kind of fine? Or where she is? Or if she ever plans on coming home?"
Mark turned back and shrugged. "No. She said she was fine, she didn't expect me to still be here, and you can stop filling up her voice mail box."
"Like hell I'm going to stop." Mary put her beer down a little too hard, but not hard enough to break the bottle or chip the tile. "Did you tell her about the baby?"
"I tried." Mark started putting food onto plates. "She wouldn't let me." He slid one of the plates in front of Mary and sat down next to her with the other.
"If she calls again, tell her I want to talk to her, and I mean it."
"Will do." Mark picked up his beer. "Cheers."
Mary eyed him suspiciously - it was just dinner, not a celebration - and clinked her bottle to his. "Cheers."
If nothing else, he had learned to cook somewhere along the line.
*
Thursday
"Look, Abigail and I would like to have you over for dinner. You can bring Mark if you want."
"No," Mary said. "No, no, no. You are not making us your couple friends. We aren't even a couple."
"So come alone."
Mary continued to frown.
"You're my friend," Marshall said, "and as much as you may not like her, Abigail is my significant other."
"Significant other, really?"
"Mary," Marshall said.
Mary made a face but gestured at him to continue.
"I would like you two to get along."
"She came to my sister's wedding." Mary sighed at the look Marshall shot her. "Fine. I will come to dinner." She pointed at him. "But I'm not bringing Mark."
Marshall held his hands up, palms out. "No Mark, got it. Tomorrow night, seven o'clock, our place."
"Is this one of those things where I have to bring wine and we all pretend we're in one of those annoying TV shows where people talk about real estate?"
"A hostess gift is traditional, but I doubt there will be any conversation about real estate."
*
Friday
"I don't even know why I'm bringing you."
"Face it, Mary," Mark said, "you like me. I'm fun."
"Fun, yeah," Mary muttered. "Fun is what got us into this mess."
"Sex got us into this mess," Mark said. "Both times."
Mary sighed. "Yeah, and maybe that's a lesson we should learn."
"Hey," Mark said, insistent enough that Mary glanced at him. "You made, we made, a responsible decision. The Templetons are going to be great parents. And I'm still here. You're taking me to your best friend's house for dinner. I think we're learning plenty."
Mary pulled into Marshall and Abigail's driveway. "I'm not marrying you again."
Mark grinned at her. "Who says I'd want you to?"
Mary shot him a glare and left him to carry the wine.
The door opened before she was halfway up the walk, spilling light and Marshall and Abigail out of it.
"Jesus," Mary said. "What kind of suburbia have we walked into?"
"It's a very nice neighborhood," Marshall said. He met her just outside the door and hugged her tightly before letting her go past him, where she accepted a lighter hug from Abigail before entering the house.
"Yeah, if you're going to raise two-point-four kids. Oh, God, don't tell me we're here so you can tell me you're going to start popping out rugrats. You already have the dog." Mary crouched down to scratch behind Oscar's ears.
"Nope," Abigail said. "Haven't talked about it yet, and not ready even if we had."
"This is why we can't go anywhere nice," Mark said.
"You're telling me." Marshall took the wine from him.
Mary glared at both of them. "I'll have you know I spent an entire evening at a very expensive country club with Brandi's prospective in-laws and didn't embarrass myself once."
"Have you heard from Brandi?" Abigail asked.
Mary stood up and they all moved into the kitchen. "Mark talked to her, and she said she was fine, whatever that means in Brandi's world."
"You're her sister." Marshall rested his hand on her shoulder for a moment. "She'll call you."
*
The thing about the world turning your plans upside down is that sometimes things turn out okay. The bride calls home and says she's fine. The maid of honor gets to the hospital in time. The wedding moves to someone's backyard. In the end, what matters about our circumstances isn't the change or the chaos. It's the people in them. Those people who are, or become, our families. Those people who cook us breakfast, invite us to dinner, and sit with us while we give birth and sign adoption paperwork. When you have them, you don't have any choice but to just keep going, because they're the ones who will be there with you - and will need you to be there when their circumstances change.