Secret Snowflake - likelike_love
Title: Playing games
Author: scifidvm
Written/Drawn/Created For: likelike_love
Pairings/Characters: Mary/Marshall, cameo by the Fleigler 2000
Rating: M there’s sex… but it’s on a level I’d call smut-lite
Prompt/Summary/Spoilers/Warnings: Prompt #2: (WITSEC) office game night
A/N:There’s something about the glow of the Christmas lights on the house, the twinkle of the lights on the tree, the dogs playing in a pile of wrapping paper, the smell of hot chocolate and the ham baking in the oven that really makes it feel like Christmas… and makes me feel like trying to write smut for the first time… Totally appropriate, right? And Eleanor is here too. She never left. It’s like a Christmas miracle, let’s accept it and roll with it.
…___...___...___...
The Fleigler 2000 claimed to have the ability to staple through eighty pieces of paper. Mary had tested the stapler thoroughly and proven that beyond a shadow of a doubt, the Fleigler could in fact staple up to 83 sheets of paper in one effort. Apparently the force required to penetrate a common office staple through eighty pages also exceeds the amount of pressure that can be withstood by one of the human phalanges. No one was willing to come clean about how the incident occurred, but somehow, Marshall’s foot had ended up in the device.
Marshall was recovering at home after the Friday morning trip to the ER. X rays had revealed a thoroughly broken toe and a metal foreign body embedded in the fracture bone. A shot of local anesthetic and a small incision had been necessary to dig out the broken off arm of the staple. He would be in a walking cast for the next two to four weeks to allow the toe to heal.
Around 4 that afternoon Eleanor called him to see how he was doing and if there was anything she could do for him. He took full advantage of the situation and requested that everyone from the office come meet at his apartment that evening for dinner and a round of board games. The fact that Mary begrudgingly agreed to attend spoke to her guilt in the matter more resoundingly than an actual confession would have. She also continued to skulk around the office for the remainder of the day, in a mood more somber and withdrawn than was typical for even days when Marshall wasn’t around.
Shortly after 5:30 the WITSEC office was empty. Stan, Eleanor, and Charlie had decided to drive together, as there was safety in numbers, and it gave them each that many more potential reasons to escape early if things at the little party took a turn for the worse. On the way they had stopped and picked up a bottle of red wine and the take out order Marshall had called into a little Italian restaurant down the block from his place. Marshall greeted them warmly at the door. He was wearing a well-worn white t shirt and grey sweatpants. The right pant leg was pushed up to just below his knee, leaving room for the walking cast that extended half way up his calf. Charlie was the last to enter and Marshall gazed out the door behind him. Eleanor noted that the look in his eyes was hopeful at first, followed by disappointed.
“She wanted to drive separately. Said she had to pick up a few things, but that she’d be here shortly.” She consoled the man.
“Huh? What? I wasn’t… I mean… ok.” Marshall obviously hadn’t expected her to pick up on his longing glance. Eleanor wasn’t ignorant to the innuendo and goings on between the two partners, but this level of angst ridden pining was a bit more than Marshall usually let show. A quick glance around the apartment revealed the cause. Two small vials of orange translucent plastic with white caps and large prescription labels sat next to the sink in the kitchen. Eleanor joined Stan in said kitchen as he and Charlie began setting out the take out containers of chicken parmesan, lasagna, bread sticks, and house salad. She subtly nudged him with her elbow to get his attention. Once she had it, she glanced at the bottle of prescription pain killers by the sink until his gaze followed hers. Then she looked towards the bottle of wine and curtly shook her head.
Stan nodded obediently. Marshall’s already stoned, they should keep him away from the booze. Not exactly news to him. God he had feelings for this woman, but sometimes she really underestimated him. Most times it was about as effective as herding squirrels, but he had been this pair’s wrangler for years before she had gotten here. He could have told her that the younger inspector was hopped up on Vicodan the minute he requested their presence on a Friday night. There was only one reason to have them there, intruding on what was his typical alone with Mary time. Marshall knew the effect that the meds would have on him and he didn’t trust himself. Her crappy attitude all day made it a sure bet that Mary would have shown up at his place tonight regardless of what they did. The rest of them would serve as a buffer while the pain meds dropped his guard. Stan was happy to oblige for the night.
Charlie was just excited to be included in the extracurricular activities for once.
They were all sitting around Marshall’s kitchen table, mostly done with their meals. Conversation had been jovial, and the food was quite good. Everyone was in good spirits when they heard a key turn in the lock of the front door and the unmistakable sounds of Mary Shannon entering the apartment. Marshall jumped up as quickly as the cast would allow, his mood obviously becoming even more cheerful. The remaining three at the table all noticeably tensed at the arrival.
Marshall attempted to help her with the objects clutched in her arms, but she shrugged him off. Mary had a bottle of tequila in one hand and a box containing the board game Twister in the other. Upon recognizing the objects she was carrying, Stan and Eleanor both dropped their heads into their hands. The room had gone still and silent. Charlie wasn’t exactly sure what was going on, but the expressions on everyone else’s faces were enough to leave him rightly petrified.
“Wow. And here I thought I was going to liven up the party.” Mary waggled the items in her hands, “But it seems like you guys totally got that covered” she finished sarcastically. She put the items down on the counter, opened a cabinet, extracted a small glass, and poured herself a generous shot of the tequila. She grabbed a fork and took a few bites of everything directly from the serving containers before downing the shot.
Eleanor attempted to diffuse the tension, “Mary, so glad you made it. We were about to pick which game to play. Do you have any thoughts?”
“Oh… I have some thoughts alright.”
“How about Pictionary?” Stan offered to the group, cutting Mary off.
“I’m not the greatest drawer, but I can guess pretty well.” Charlie chimed in.
“I’m sure you can, kid.” Stan offered.
They all quickly finished up anything they still wanted to eat and moved to the living room with what was left of the bottle of wine. Mary grabbed two beers out of Marshall’s fridge before joining the others in the living room. She handed him one despite the reproachful looks from Eleanor. They sat together on the love seat, and Stan, Eleanor, and Charlie sat on the couch. As expected the teams were divided thusly. Interest in the game waned quickly. Charlie was, in fact, a terrible artist. Stan and Eleanor would have been able to hold their own, but there was just no competing with the Marshals whose lives depended on being able to read each other’s minds or body language on a daily basis. Mary could guess what Marshall was going for usually with three straight lines or less. Marshall would guess what Mary’s topic was within twenty second every time, despite the fact that everything she drew looked markedly phallic.
The next game they tried was called Apples to Apples. Everyone got 5 red cards with a random noun on each. They all took turns flipping over a separate stack of green cards that had an adjective on it. The other players would submit their noun that they thought best matched the adjective. The person that had flipped the adjective card got to pick the winner. The first adjective card was flipped over by Stan. The word was “fragrant”. The matching submissions included “roses”, “turkey dinner”, “candles”, and “airplane restroom”. Unsurprisingly the bathroom one had come from Mary. The submissions just became more sarcastic or insulting from that point on. They decided that they had all had just about enough of the game after Mary’s submission for the adjective “visionary” was “Hellen Keller”.
“That’s just wrong.” Eleanor shook her head.
They were out of feasible game ideas and it was approaching 10:30. Stan and Eleanor graciously excused themselves and dragged Charlie along with them. Mary’s attitude had not improved much throughout the night, and they realized that the partners likely had something that they needed to work out. Marshall didn’t seem too effected by the pain meds and didn’t appear to have actually drunk any of the beer Mary had handed him. He was probably as safe as any other time he was alone with her.
Marshall politely saw the guests to the door as Mary lounged on the couch.
“I thought they’d never leave.” Mary sighed.
“You know, it’s not uncommon for people to enjoy mingling with their colleagues in a setting outside of their work environment.”
“Whatever. I think TLC is showing one of those ‘When retards think monkeys are their children then get their faces eaten by them’ shows.” Mary grabbed the remote and Marshall settled in next to her on the couch.
About thirty seconds of the reality show aired before they both grumbled. “Rerun.” Marshall announced sadly and Mary began channel surfing. They stopped on 1,000 ways to die because it was the one where the guy got irradiated to death by an X ray machine at the hospital when a doctor and a nurse started having sex in the radiology booth and the chick’s ass repeatedly hit the exposure button as the guy nailed her against the control panel. That one never really got old. Unfortunately it was followed by the story of a guy that died of tetanus after stepping on an old staple gun staple from the previous year’s Christmas lights. That one hit a little too close to home, and Mary sobered noticeably.
Marshall noticed and attempted to lighten the mood, “For the record, I know you didn’t mean to hurt me.”
“Correction, you know I didn’t mean to hurt you this badly.”
“I meant exactly what I said.” He countered.
“Marshall,” She had no idea how to say what she needed to say, “this wouldn’t be the first time I hurt you and you know it. You had to know what would happen. Weren’t you afraid I might hurt you?”
“I don’t see the point in living in fear of what might happen.”
That did it. It was relatively stupid in the grand scheme of things. They’d both nearly died of gunshots before and that didn’t do it. But something about seeing him in the hospital because of something she caused, even if it was just a broken toe, made her feel miserable. She had known for quite a while that his feelings for her extended beyond partnership, and had tried to avoid it because she wasn’t ready for that. She certainly saw him as more than just her partner at work, but she refused to let the evaluations stray much beyond thoughts of friendship, because she wasn’t willing to risk everything they already had. Some of her attempts to avoid the eventually inevitable introspection and conversation had undoubtedly disappointed and even hurt him. Yet, still he remained. He never made her feel guilty about it, never gave her stupid ultimatums, always had her back, would take a bullet for her, once took a bullet and still managed to get up and save her ass, he was willing to take a staple to the toe to avoid losing face in front of her, and damned if he didn’t fill out those sweatpants. Hmm… last one may be the tequila talking, she realized. But it was all true. Suddenly the risk of missing out on what this amazing man had to offer her seemed far greater than the risk that they would end up hurting each other more together than they would if they continued the way they were now.
TBC: part 2
Author: scifidvm
Written/Drawn/Created For: likelike_love
Pairings/Characters: Mary/Marshall, cameo by the Fleigler 2000
Rating: M there’s sex… but it’s on a level I’d call smut-lite
Prompt/Summary/Spoilers/Warnings: Prompt #2: (WITSEC) office game night
A/N:There’s something about the glow of the Christmas lights on the house, the twinkle of the lights on the tree, the dogs playing in a pile of wrapping paper, the smell of hot chocolate and the ham baking in the oven that really makes it feel like Christmas… and makes me feel like trying to write smut for the first time… Totally appropriate, right? And Eleanor is here too. She never left. It’s like a Christmas miracle, let’s accept it and roll with it.
…___...___...___...
The Fleigler 2000 claimed to have the ability to staple through eighty pieces of paper. Mary had tested the stapler thoroughly and proven that beyond a shadow of a doubt, the Fleigler could in fact staple up to 83 sheets of paper in one effort. Apparently the force required to penetrate a common office staple through eighty pages also exceeds the amount of pressure that can be withstood by one of the human phalanges. No one was willing to come clean about how the incident occurred, but somehow, Marshall’s foot had ended up in the device.
Marshall was recovering at home after the Friday morning trip to the ER. X rays had revealed a thoroughly broken toe and a metal foreign body embedded in the fracture bone. A shot of local anesthetic and a small incision had been necessary to dig out the broken off arm of the staple. He would be in a walking cast for the next two to four weeks to allow the toe to heal.
Around 4 that afternoon Eleanor called him to see how he was doing and if there was anything she could do for him. He took full advantage of the situation and requested that everyone from the office come meet at his apartment that evening for dinner and a round of board games. The fact that Mary begrudgingly agreed to attend spoke to her guilt in the matter more resoundingly than an actual confession would have. She also continued to skulk around the office for the remainder of the day, in a mood more somber and withdrawn than was typical for even days when Marshall wasn’t around.
Shortly after 5:30 the WITSEC office was empty. Stan, Eleanor, and Charlie had decided to drive together, as there was safety in numbers, and it gave them each that many more potential reasons to escape early if things at the little party took a turn for the worse. On the way they had stopped and picked up a bottle of red wine and the take out order Marshall had called into a little Italian restaurant down the block from his place. Marshall greeted them warmly at the door. He was wearing a well-worn white t shirt and grey sweatpants. The right pant leg was pushed up to just below his knee, leaving room for the walking cast that extended half way up his calf. Charlie was the last to enter and Marshall gazed out the door behind him. Eleanor noted that the look in his eyes was hopeful at first, followed by disappointed.
“She wanted to drive separately. Said she had to pick up a few things, but that she’d be here shortly.” She consoled the man.
“Huh? What? I wasn’t… I mean… ok.” Marshall obviously hadn’t expected her to pick up on his longing glance. Eleanor wasn’t ignorant to the innuendo and goings on between the two partners, but this level of angst ridden pining was a bit more than Marshall usually let show. A quick glance around the apartment revealed the cause. Two small vials of orange translucent plastic with white caps and large prescription labels sat next to the sink in the kitchen. Eleanor joined Stan in said kitchen as he and Charlie began setting out the take out containers of chicken parmesan, lasagna, bread sticks, and house salad. She subtly nudged him with her elbow to get his attention. Once she had it, she glanced at the bottle of prescription pain killers by the sink until his gaze followed hers. Then she looked towards the bottle of wine and curtly shook her head.
Stan nodded obediently. Marshall’s already stoned, they should keep him away from the booze. Not exactly news to him. God he had feelings for this woman, but sometimes she really underestimated him. Most times it was about as effective as herding squirrels, but he had been this pair’s wrangler for years before she had gotten here. He could have told her that the younger inspector was hopped up on Vicodan the minute he requested their presence on a Friday night. There was only one reason to have them there, intruding on what was his typical alone with Mary time. Marshall knew the effect that the meds would have on him and he didn’t trust himself. Her crappy attitude all day made it a sure bet that Mary would have shown up at his place tonight regardless of what they did. The rest of them would serve as a buffer while the pain meds dropped his guard. Stan was happy to oblige for the night.
Charlie was just excited to be included in the extracurricular activities for once.
They were all sitting around Marshall’s kitchen table, mostly done with their meals. Conversation had been jovial, and the food was quite good. Everyone was in good spirits when they heard a key turn in the lock of the front door and the unmistakable sounds of Mary Shannon entering the apartment. Marshall jumped up as quickly as the cast would allow, his mood obviously becoming even more cheerful. The remaining three at the table all noticeably tensed at the arrival.
Marshall attempted to help her with the objects clutched in her arms, but she shrugged him off. Mary had a bottle of tequila in one hand and a box containing the board game Twister in the other. Upon recognizing the objects she was carrying, Stan and Eleanor both dropped their heads into their hands. The room had gone still and silent. Charlie wasn’t exactly sure what was going on, but the expressions on everyone else’s faces were enough to leave him rightly petrified.
“Wow. And here I thought I was going to liven up the party.” Mary waggled the items in her hands, “But it seems like you guys totally got that covered” she finished sarcastically. She put the items down on the counter, opened a cabinet, extracted a small glass, and poured herself a generous shot of the tequila. She grabbed a fork and took a few bites of everything directly from the serving containers before downing the shot.
Eleanor attempted to diffuse the tension, “Mary, so glad you made it. We were about to pick which game to play. Do you have any thoughts?”
“Oh… I have some thoughts alright.”
“How about Pictionary?” Stan offered to the group, cutting Mary off.
“I’m not the greatest drawer, but I can guess pretty well.” Charlie chimed in.
“I’m sure you can, kid.” Stan offered.
They all quickly finished up anything they still wanted to eat and moved to the living room with what was left of the bottle of wine. Mary grabbed two beers out of Marshall’s fridge before joining the others in the living room. She handed him one despite the reproachful looks from Eleanor. They sat together on the love seat, and Stan, Eleanor, and Charlie sat on the couch. As expected the teams were divided thusly. Interest in the game waned quickly. Charlie was, in fact, a terrible artist. Stan and Eleanor would have been able to hold their own, but there was just no competing with the Marshals whose lives depended on being able to read each other’s minds or body language on a daily basis. Mary could guess what Marshall was going for usually with three straight lines or less. Marshall would guess what Mary’s topic was within twenty second every time, despite the fact that everything she drew looked markedly phallic.
The next game they tried was called Apples to Apples. Everyone got 5 red cards with a random noun on each. They all took turns flipping over a separate stack of green cards that had an adjective on it. The other players would submit their noun that they thought best matched the adjective. The person that had flipped the adjective card got to pick the winner. The first adjective card was flipped over by Stan. The word was “fragrant”. The matching submissions included “roses”, “turkey dinner”, “candles”, and “airplane restroom”. Unsurprisingly the bathroom one had come from Mary. The submissions just became more sarcastic or insulting from that point on. They decided that they had all had just about enough of the game after Mary’s submission for the adjective “visionary” was “Hellen Keller”.
“That’s just wrong.” Eleanor shook her head.
They were out of feasible game ideas and it was approaching 10:30. Stan and Eleanor graciously excused themselves and dragged Charlie along with them. Mary’s attitude had not improved much throughout the night, and they realized that the partners likely had something that they needed to work out. Marshall didn’t seem too effected by the pain meds and didn’t appear to have actually drunk any of the beer Mary had handed him. He was probably as safe as any other time he was alone with her.
Marshall politely saw the guests to the door as Mary lounged on the couch.
“I thought they’d never leave.” Mary sighed.
“You know, it’s not uncommon for people to enjoy mingling with their colleagues in a setting outside of their work environment.”
“Whatever. I think TLC is showing one of those ‘When retards think monkeys are their children then get their faces eaten by them’ shows.” Mary grabbed the remote and Marshall settled in next to her on the couch.
About thirty seconds of the reality show aired before they both grumbled. “Rerun.” Marshall announced sadly and Mary began channel surfing. They stopped on 1,000 ways to die because it was the one where the guy got irradiated to death by an X ray machine at the hospital when a doctor and a nurse started having sex in the radiology booth and the chick’s ass repeatedly hit the exposure button as the guy nailed her against the control panel. That one never really got old. Unfortunately it was followed by the story of a guy that died of tetanus after stepping on an old staple gun staple from the previous year’s Christmas lights. That one hit a little too close to home, and Mary sobered noticeably.
Marshall noticed and attempted to lighten the mood, “For the record, I know you didn’t mean to hurt me.”
“Correction, you know I didn’t mean to hurt you this badly.”
“I meant exactly what I said.” He countered.
“Marshall,” She had no idea how to say what she needed to say, “this wouldn’t be the first time I hurt you and you know it. You had to know what would happen. Weren’t you afraid I might hurt you?”
“I don’t see the point in living in fear of what might happen.”
That did it. It was relatively stupid in the grand scheme of things. They’d both nearly died of gunshots before and that didn’t do it. But something about seeing him in the hospital because of something she caused, even if it was just a broken toe, made her feel miserable. She had known for quite a while that his feelings for her extended beyond partnership, and had tried to avoid it because she wasn’t ready for that. She certainly saw him as more than just her partner at work, but she refused to let the evaluations stray much beyond thoughts of friendship, because she wasn’t willing to risk everything they already had. Some of her attempts to avoid the eventually inevitable introspection and conversation had undoubtedly disappointed and even hurt him. Yet, still he remained. He never made her feel guilty about it, never gave her stupid ultimatums, always had her back, would take a bullet for her, once took a bullet and still managed to get up and save her ass, he was willing to take a staple to the toe to avoid losing face in front of her, and damned if he didn’t fill out those sweatpants. Hmm… last one may be the tequila talking, she realized. But it was all true. Suddenly the risk of missing out on what this amazing man had to offer her seemed far greater than the risk that they would end up hurting each other more together than they would if they continued the way they were now.
TBC: part 2