Author's Note: Good insomnia ridden morning, people. I'm still working on Entangled, I promise. This won't leave me alone. I've been reading some post 5x08 things with the JK Rowling epilogue atmosphere collapsing and I want to write my own version. Now, that it's been a few months, I can look back and honestly say that if I have to pick the one to be pissed off at more in the endgame of Mary and Marshall, I'm picking Marshall.

Granted, it's a very close match (considering all of Mary's wise decisions…) but the balcony scene played too much like an inmate in front of the parole board to me and it galls me to hear Marshall basically compare being with Mary (even in a friendship way…) after all they have been through to being in prison. He's supposed to love her but then he implies that? That's utter and complete bullshit to me and the tone of the fic will reflect a lot of my anger towards him. Not all.

Entangled will be finished soon and I will be adding a semi-canon compliant GEAH installment. I'm also thinking of adding another fic to my Worthy saga. We'll see. A finished Entangled is set in stone, though.

Disclaimer: "Honestly, it's not mine!"

"…This, what we have, it's undefinable, and up until now nothing's ever come along to jeopardize that."

"Marshall, you're my best friend. You're my only friend. I mean, forget friend, you're - you know."

"I know. I love that. But that's the problem."

" Because you're getting married."

" Yeah. I'm getting married. I love Abigail deeply, and because I do that's why I need you to do something for me."

"Anything."

" I need you to release me. I need to be free enough to have a life with Abigail, and I need you to be okay enough for that to happen, because if you call I'll come. Every time."

" Well, I don't know a lot these days. All I know is that more than anything in the whole world, I want you to be happy. So, I'm going to say this once and only once: I want you to marry Abigail. She makes you happy. I like her and I like you together. I know, I hide it well."

"Yeah. Okay. So, shall we get on with the rest of our lives?"

"You first…" – In Plain Sight Episode 5x08: All's Well That Ends

"Are you sure you don't want me to call Marshall? He'd want to be here for this."

"Squish, he's got a wedding to plan and boss things to boss around with. Watching me run like a Pamplona bull would be a waste of a morning to him."

"But, he's like your best friend and you've been training your ass off for this thing! He'd want to support you!"

"I don't want him here. Don't call him."

"Are you ever gonna tell me what's wrong with you two? Ever since he got engaged and your boss left, you guys have been all…not Mary and Marshall like. It's creepy!"

"Things and people change, Brandi. Simple as that."

It was anything but simple as that and she knew it. As hard as it was, Mary Shannon had kept to her word on the balcony. Marshall Mann wanted his freedom and he had earned it, really. 8 years of putting up with her as a partner could earn a person sainthood, if she thought about it. He wanted to be free so he could marry Abigail Chaffee and so, she let him go. It wasn't really abandonment if she let him go, right? Well, it didn't matter now. She and Marshall were nothing more than boss and subordinate, acquaintances now. They'd still talk about personal stuff (after all, the office was small and small offices needed chit-chat) but there was no more Calls. She had taken him out of her speed dial and made a point to give him bare minimum details about everything so he wouldn't feel obligated to run to her rescue.

She had gotten a 8 year break from handling shit on her own. Now, it was time to earn her keep again. No matter how much it hurt, no matter how much she missed him, she would keep her distance.

It was for the best.

A soft coo made her look down and see that Norah had offered her giraffe to Oliver Paul Shannon-Alpert, her 6 month old cousin. Shocking no one, it had come out in the delivery room that Peter was the father of Brandi's baby. Apparently, she had drunk FaceBook messaged him a long, rambling apology and plea to see him just one more time. They had spent a week holed up in Orlando hotel and lo and behold…but it had worked out. Peter had returned to the fold warmly if not a little tentatively, wanting to be there for his son and Brandi, too. The two were co-parents (the standard with Shannon women, nowadays) but slowly but surely, they were getting back into a romantic connection. Brandi had moved into a nice condo with him 5 blocks away and things between them were good, almost like before.

Maybe she'd end up under a chuppah again as an actual maid of honor instead of a just a Dear John popping whale with a gun.

"All runners to the starting line, please. All runners to the starting line."

"That's my cue."

"Run like the wind, Forrest. We'll be at the finishing line."

Mary pecked her daughter on the forehead and pulled her number (5x09) over her navy blue and periwinkle tank top. She had on black sweats and a pair of silver and sky blue Reeboks. A USMS sweatshirt was tied around her waist and she sighed as she joined the mass, putting her iPod on shuffle. In order to get the baby weight off faster, she had taken up running and she had found it to be invaluable in keeping her head clear. The rhythm, the runner's high, the music blasting in her ear made it all drain away. Work stress, mom stress, sister stress, aunt stress, missing her former best friend, the all too familiar feeling of abandonment from said former best friend…

Was it pathetic that she had taken up the one sport that he loved the most, other than pie eating contests?

/

Delia had "accidentally" let it slip that she was in the 10k via voice mail.

Marshall had noticed from his office that she had started reading Runner's World on what little lunch break she'd allow herself to have. He had also noticed the shoes under her desk and the sheer amount of scrunches she owned in her bag when they rode the elevator together. He had also seen her on the trails as he walked Oscar but he just thought it was a passing thing, like the aerobics class she had taken a week of when she first got out to ABQ. He didn't know that it was something serious for her. After all, she had mocked him mercilessly for running for fun before…

She's different, now. You'd know details but you asked her not to share. You asked her not to call you or even really talk to you. You asked her to release you so you could justify abandoning her just like everyone else. You said that you'd be different, that you'd stay around but you didn't. You're just another broken promise to her, Mann. No wonder Delia had to yenta…

The race could be watched in the businesses along the route and he could see her making a good showing as she made her way to the front of the pack. His heart pounded a little faster as she splashed water in her face, droplets making their way into her top, over her neck…

His phone chimed and he winced as he took a look. Florist appointment in 15. He remembered putting the reminder in after Abigail had spent a dinner glaring at him for missing another appointment with the tailor. After Stan's departure to DC, he had thrown himself head first into his new job and into his relationship with Abigail. She had sighed happily in those first few weeks that it was like she had him back, the Marshall she had fallen for, like had been freed finally.

"…release me…"

Mary had released him. He was free to roam about the cabin and he no longer had to worry about her latest family disaster, her latest personal cluster, the undeniable sadness in her body language. Marshall no longer had to but he did. The distance made him wonder. Kenny had been gone after a month but was there someone else? Was the someone else treating her right? And was Norah okay? She had to be teething by now and teething was hell on Earth for both parent and child. Did she need anything? Some time off? Well, maybe not that. Her work hadn't taken a hit. If anything, it had improved, especially the turnaround for paperwork. Delia had stepped into his professional shoes easily and although their personalities were still oil and water, they made a good partnership.

Never like you and her, though. No one will be able to duplicate that sort of connection, not Mary and Delia…nor will you and Abigail…

A roar of cheers erupted as Mary broke ahead from the pack around the last bend and he could see her approaching fast and strong. Her body was back to before her pregnancy but a little more streamlined from her regimen. She was all sweat and curves and planes…tempting and taunting all at once. As soon as she crossed the finish line, the roars got louder and she raised a fist in triumph. Her finishing time showed up on screen and Marshall knew she had broken a city record. Expertly dodging a local reporter, she accepted her daughter and hitched her on her hip, kissing her brow before turning her over to Joanna and Jinx. Brandi was holding her son in her arms and grinning madly. Peter took him towards the parking lot and Mary actually let her sister hug her, guiding her into the restaurant.

"…was kickass out there! Maybe you could do the New York one. I'm sure Mark wouldn't mind taking Norah to Jersey for a few days to…oh."

"What?"

For the first time since the farewell dinner, he was catching more than a 30 second glimpse of her verdant gaze. Said gaze narrowed and she gave Brandi a look that could turn a man to dust.

"I told you that I didn't want him here." she said flatly, twisting a knife into his gut.

"I didn't call him, Mare! This is like a city wide thing and he probably saw a flyer or something! I didn't call him. I wanted to because I think you're both being dumb but this is your day with your rules! I didn't call him, I swear to God! Look, I'm gonna head home so…I don't know. Just…so. Good to see you, Marshall."

She was the only Shannon sister who thought that. Mary sighed and sat down at the next table, pouring herself a glass of water.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"This has nothing to do with work."

"I didn't…Mary, I didn't say that I didn't want to be friends anymore…"

"Actually, you did. You asked me to release you so you could move forward with your life. So we both could. Last time I checked, a prisoner and the warden don't stay BFFs after parole. Where are you supposed to be right now, anyway?"

"A florist's appointment." he replied with slightly downcast eyes as she shook her head with disgusted awe.

"But, you're sitting here with me. Do you have any idea how wrong that is?"

"I wanted to support you. How is that wrong?"

"You know damned well how it's…okay, you know what? You need to go home and plan your wedding. You also need to find a good way to grovel your way back into Abigail's good books. She's already pissed at the hours you're logging and now that you've gone and ditched her for the 25th time, she's probably gunning for your sac and shaft."

"How did you…"

"The water cooler…Delia told me. It seems she thinks that there's some trouble in paradise with you and your fiancée. Until now, I would call B.S. What's wrong with you?"

He didn't know. He wasn't…unhappy, per se. Marshall was just conflicted and more than a little numb. After the first few weeks, he had found himself logging more time at his desk and being half present at best at appointments. Abigail was starting to return to the desperate suspicion that had begun off and on after the Court House and…he couldn't help but think about what his father had said to him when he had come to town…

"…do you know what your mother would say if she were here? Abigail is the girl we'd always hoped you would bring home."

"Thanks, dad. You know, I can't help but notice that ever since you retired that the old, gruff you is MIA."

"I'm not finished."

"There he is."

"The thing is… in marriage there is no guess work, and who you're there for at four in the morning, that's the one. So you've got to ask yourself, is Abigail the girl you always thought you'd bring home?" – In Plain Sight Episode 5x06: The Medal Of Mary

His father had a nasty tendency to turn out to be right when one least expected it. The more time passed, the more the distance between him and Mary grew to the point of strained acquaintances, the more that any decisions or appointments needed to be made about the wedding (that there still was no date for…) prompted the need for Excedrin, the more his brain and instincts rebelled against him…wrong choice, Mann…wrong woman, Mann…there was guess work. For all his talk about going with the flow, Marshall despised guess work…

After the silence stretched on for another minute, she sighed and stood up gingerly, pulling out her van keys.

"I'm going home and you better keep Abigail from pinning this shit on me. I'm holding up my end of the deal, Marshall. You're dropping the ball and I don't know why. And let me just say that if you and Abigail are still having problems even though you've wised up and dropped me like a bad habit, then maybe you two should think less about the details of the wedding and more about the details for the divorce. And I'm putting it out there now…the mutt is not coming back to my place. See you at work, Chief."

/

"…so it was just the two of you at the funeral home. Wow. Intimate."

"It's her father, Ab. She's my partner."

"Marshall, I need you to remove the phrase "she's my partner" from your arsenal. I know she's your partner."

"My arsenal?"

"I don't want to be that girl. Don't make me that girl. The insecure - yes, she's your partner and she is your friend. Your best friend."

"You've got to understand…"

"When do we come first?! "- In Plain Sight Episode 5x08: All's Well That Ends

Abigail Chaffee didn't even bother crying, anymore. Or getting angry. What would be the point of either thing? It wouldn't undo the humiliation of having to call multiple times to find her fiancé. It wouldn't undo the sinking feeling in her gut as she found him sprawled on the couch asleep, a stack of files safely beyond Oscar's reach. It wouldn't undo the twist in her chest as his gaze still followed Mary as they saw her on the park trails 4 days a week, lost in running and the 80s rock she could hear through the buds. It wouldn't undo the looks of civility laced with pity Seth Mann had given her all through his time in Albuquerque. It wouldn't undo whispers at work, the marvels that she had even gotten as far as she did with Marshall because "he's still totally hung up on Shannon, even if she never gave him an inch…" It wouldn't undo the growing disapproval in her father's voice as she still couldn't tell him or her frowning mother a date and the sadness in her sister's eyes as they Skyped about everything and nothing…

Why am I still doing this? Why am I in love with a man who obviously loves another woman more?

Abigail wasn't stupid. She knew that Marshall loved Mary. She knew from the moment they met at a midnight showing of La Boheme. She knew the moment she first saw them interact in their Mary and Marshall way, the way that had become the stuff of legend in the PD, the ATF, the FTF, the FBI...she wasn't stupid. She truly, truly wasn't. She knew that anything they started had to be on borrowed time, right? But, as time passed and Mary got pregnant with another man's baby, hope had bloomed in her chest. Maybe they weren't on borrowed time. Maybe Marshall could break away from his partner enough to be happy with another woman, enough to fall in love with another woman. Maybe…maybe they could be one of those Couples, the Couples who lasted 50 years through thick and thin.

Maybe they could just be.

But then…the courthouse. Marshall had protected Mary instantly, with nary a glance towards her. Then, the chuppah…Marshall had stayed by her side as long as he could before being moved out of the way by the father and Mary's mother. They had moved in together but Mary's dog had moved in, too. Marshall had asked him to marry him but then he got up at 3 in the morning to hold his distraught partner as she wept for her fugitive father. Marshall had set up the first few appointments but missed them to help a grieving Mary. Every step of progress they made had a caveat emptor aura, every day she felt as if she were in a twisted competition that she was destined to lose.

Marshall had brought her home after the farewell dinner and loved her for 36 hours straight, making her feel like a Goddess, the only woman in the world, the only woman in his heart. He said that he and Mary had reached an understanding, refined boundaries, and that he was in it 100%. She believed him then She believed in them, in him, they could make it through this patch and more...

Believing in something didn't make it real.

He was positively miserable without Mary. He tried to cover it up with smiles and the dry wryness that had caught her attention (after his baby blues, of course) but she could tell. There was a set to his jaw, a new stiffness in his body language and she had seen him thinking about calling her, phone in hand until he pointedly put it down. He increased his time at the office, saying that he needed to get through a backlog but Abigail knew it was to see Mary. The blonde had cut off near all non-professional contact with Marshall, chit-chat in the elevator and brief post jog conversations, the latter being sure to include her. Mary was trying her best to include her. The snark was softer, she no longer mocked Marshall about their relationship (or anything else for that matter) and she was one of the ones asking when the wedding date was.

Instead of being reassuring, it pissed Abigail off. Why was it that even though she was wearing Marshall's great-great grandmother's ring and living in a house with him, she still felt like the other woman?

Because you are. Because even though things between Marshall and Mary have been platonic, not for lack of trying on his part in the past, there is still an emotional connection there beyond your reach. They may not have made love but they are still more married than most actual couples are. Marshall's acting like his wife has left him, not his partner or best friend but his wife. His other half. He may say he loves you and he may love you in his own way but not like Mary. Never like Mary.

Why am I still here? Why am I still wearing this ring and planning a wedding that's plainly not going to happen? Why haven't I just left? It's not Marshall would care…

But, he would. She knew he would. Marshall felt everything tenfold. Leaving him would hurt him.

Staying would hurt her. Either way, someone was going to get hurt…

/

"Abigail left him. He called me last night. When I brought him some pound cake, he showed me a note and the ring. She even took Oscar. Anyway, Abigail's gone. Just thought you'd want to know."

Mary felt like she had been shot in the gut again. Damn it all to hell.

"Where is he?"

"On the balcony. I…I think he might want to be alone, though!"

Delia may very well be right (not that she would ever tell her...) but she wasn't leaving him alone right now. She had been in the place he was in now. Even though it was of her own doing and fondest wish at the time, being left by a fiancée fucking hurt. If it could make her cry like an infant, what could it do to Marshall? He was always such a damned live wire with emotions. His deep capacity for empathy made him perfect for WitSec and for dealing with her but when bad things happened…

She pushed the door open and he was standing facing her, his back to the city and his eyes shut.

"Chief?"

"Delia told you."

"Yeah. I'm sorry."

"Are you really?"

"I'm sorry you're hurting."

He snorted ruefully and replied, "Wardens don't care about a prisoner's welfare after they've been paroled, remember?"

"Shit. Marshall, that's not what I…"

"No. That is what you meant and the bitch of it is that it's my own fault. Not only did I do what I swore I'd never do to you, abandon you, I threw away my best friend to keep my fiancée and I lost her anyway. I lost Abigail and I utterly destroyed 8 years of trust and faith you had in me being a stupid selfish fuck. And honestly, I feel worse about the latter than the former."

"You shouldn't. You loved her."

"Not like I still love you."

Mary made to reply but his eyes opened. Like the first time out here, there was desperate pleading in his gaze but this time, they were bloodshot from tears and stress.

"You don't have to say anything. You don't even have to feel the same way. Just…let me rebuild your faith in me?"

"Marshall, I never lost it. Ever. And…I just wanted you to be happy. Still do. I…I went with the whole release you thing, which was a totally suck-ass way of putting it by the way…"

"Seconded."

"…because I thought it would be a way for you to be happy. I really did and…I did like Abigail as a person. Well, pod person because I mean, come on but I…I didn't really like you two together because it seemed…forced at times and 9 times outta 10, an age difference does matter and…and…I wanted to support you marrying her but all I could see was you two ending up divorced. Divorced after months, divorced after years with custody battles going on, just divorced."

"If that's true, why didn't you say something?"

"It wasn't my place."

"Personal boundaries have never stopped you before."

"I wanted you to be happy, goddamn it! I wanted you to be happy in a way I can't make you!"

"You didn't even try!"

"I knew that if I did, it wouldn't work and it would fuck things up between us!"

"Things are still fucked up between us, Mary!"

"I know that! I can't help but know that, Marshall! We were both wrong as hell, all right?!"

She turned away from him and brought her hands to her head. Mary wasn't stupid, either. She knew what time it was long before he told her flat out he loved her. And she knew that she felt it, too but…she was Mary. Daddy issued, anger management issued, addict riddled, crazy ass, locked up tight, damaged beyond repair Mary Elizabeth Shannon. She wouldn't know what to do with a good man and real love if it came with IKEA picture instructions. Why Marshall would ever want to love her was beyond her but he did. He shouldn't. She tried to make him see that and when he met Abigail, got serious with Abigail, she figured she had finally convinced him not to.

And it hurt. It hurt like hell and salted burns but it was for his own good.

Except it wasn't.

Now, look where they both were. Hurting and they had dragged others into the mix in order to 'save' themselves or the other. Pathetic…

She hissed out a breath and held onto him, nearly crushed in his arms. The soreness from the 10k flared up but she ignored that in favor of burying her face in his blazer.

"I've missed you so fucking much." she admitted as tears slid out of her eyes against her will.

He shuddered with silent sobs and nodded, pressing a chaste but not so chaste kiss to her shoulder. She met his open gaze and resolve set in, just like when dealing with witnesses.

"What do we do?"

"Rebuild our friendship and…maybe more. I don't know, Mare. I'm just so fucking confused right now."

"And heartbroken."

"Yeah. Again."

"Sorry."

"Not your fault."

"This time, anyway. So, um…shall we get on with the rest of our lives?"

Their laughter was ragged but genuine.

"You first..."