"You steal this car?" Marshall held on for dear life as Mary damn near rounded the corner on two wheels in her Mustang.

Mary gave him a slit-eyed sidelong glance. He'd been gleefully dancing on her last good nerve today since she'd lost the bet over Stan and Eleanor's clandestine 'lunch breaks' in the supply closet. "You know damn well I didn't," she growled. "Why?"

He looked out the window at the passenger side mirror and then back at her. "Oh, because you're speeding, and driving like you might have. Apparently the officer behind us with the flashing lights thinks so, too."

"Are you fucking kid—" Green eyes widened as she checked the mirror. She slapped her palm on the steering wheel. "God! Damn! It!" She enunciated every syllable as she pulled the Mustang over in front of a burnt-out liquor store. "You could have said something."

"I did when I told you that I felt like a NASA test pilot when you took off at that last stoplight. You told me to suck it up, so…"

"'Suck it up,' and 'don't tell me there's a damn cop sitting on the corner with a radar gun' are two different things, numbnuts. I would think that you, of all people, would be able to make that distinction."

Marshall's lips twitched as she threw the car in park and tossed the keys on the dash. "One word, and all that dental work you just paid for will be all over my floorboards." He nodded and still didn't look at her, the cords of his neck standing out over the collar of his deep red shirt as he strained against the urge to giggle.

The officer, who looked to be only old enough for his first paper route, tapped on the window, which she obligingly rolled down. "Afternoon, ma'am. Do you know why I stopped you?"

"No idea." She gave him her sunniest smile, the one that Marshall knew foretold impending death for the recipient, and tossed her hair over her shoulder, moving so that her tank top clung to her cleavage in way Marshall could only dream about.

The cop looked unimpressed, much to Mary's irritation. "You were doing 55 in a 30. May I see your license and registration, please?"

"Told you, you were speeding," Marshall murmured and promptly received a look that promised retribution and vengeance, both.

It took a moment and some wriggling, but she was able to pull her wallet from her back pocket and set it on the window sill, open to display her Marshals Service badge. "My license is above it." It wasn't unusual to have an officer extend a little bit of leeway to a fellow member of law enforcement, and she'd hoped this was the case.

Officer Davis, according to the name plate under his badge, however, did not appear interested. "That's nice, ma'am. May I have your registration, please?"

Marshall snorted at the young cop's reply but didn't look at her. He knew as soon as he did, he'd dissolve into a fit of giggles that would result in her putting him in traction. He flinched, however, when she snapped, "You heard the man. Get out the goddamn registration already!"

He closed his eyes, and it took all he had to not respond in kind. When he opened his eyes, he slowly and deliberately reached for the glove box to get the requested document. He was not prepared for the compartment to vomit forth a tsunami of napkins, receipts, white papers of various sizes, and some other rubbish, none of which were immediately apparent as the registration. The last thing to come rolling out of the depths was a bright yellow plastic ear of corn with a green base.

"What the hell-?" He held it up in front of his face, turning it over and back and forth, trying to figure out its purpose and its reason for being in the car. Mary's eyes widened and she groped for the item, only to be held off by his long arm as he continued his thorough inspection. Rolling its nubby surface against his palm, he tested the weight. "Kinda hefty, actually." He narrowed his eyes as he looked at the base, dropping it in his lap as it vibrated to life in his hands after he twisted it. "Are you kidding me?"

Mary abandoned her attempts to take the sex toy from him and threw up her hands in frustration. "Of course it works for you."

His eyes grew large with dawning horror as he realized what it was. He quickly put it as far away from him as he could, which resulted in him flinging it, still buzzing quite happily, into her lap. "Why do you have a vibrating ear of corn in your glove box?"

She twisted the base into the off position viciously, acutely aware of the police officer politely trying not to choke as he waited for the registration. "I was going to return it because it didn't work."

"But an ear of corn?" He kept stealing glances at it like he expected it to leap up and bite him.

"You want to talk about my vegetable intake now? Right now?" Marshall could only blink in response. "Just find the damn registration."

Shaking his head to clear it, he started gingerly picking through the debris of the paperwork explosion, looking at each piece before setting it aside. "Lot of gas receipts, you know, you should probably throw those out if you're not going to use them to calculate the mileage," he murmured as he continued searching. He set a piece of paper on her knee in the process of his sifting.

"What's this?"

He shrugged and didn't look up. "You'll want that receipt if you're going to return your… produce."

The cop snickered and she was overcome with the sudden desire to relieve him of his baton so that she could kneecap both him and her partner. "Am I going to have to send bloodhounds out to find this damn registration or what, Marshall? Come on, now."

He raised his hand passing a perplexed look between the folded up plastic baggy he held and her. Inside the plastic baggy was something red and a piece of paper. Unfurling the bag, he saw that the white thing was a listing of nutritional info. "And what, pray tell, is this?" Mary rolled her eyes to the roof of the car and crossed her arms over her chest, mouthing something he knew was probably filthy. "I'm sorry, I didn't hear you?" He couldn't help but be gleeful, since the opportunity to pick at Mary came to him so rarely.

Mary huffed out a sigh. "They're edible panties."

His eyebrows climbed toward his hairline at alarming speed. "Edible panties?" He sounded somewhat excited at the prospect, opening the bag eagerly. "Mmm, strawberries!" He then proceeded to withdraw the panties, dangling them from two fingers. He examined them more closely. "Crotchless?"

"Oh Jesus Christ."

"I mean, the whole point of edible panties is to…" His voice trailed off as he blushed and looked away. "I mean," he stammered, "the crotchless part makes them little more than a glorified fruit roll up."

She snatched the panties and bag from him and quickly put them in the pocket of her jeans. "Just shut the hell up and find the registration. I'm sure that Officer Davis here would like to get out of here before the next ice age."

Marshall turned in the seat to face her, still looking confused. "But-but why was that in a bag your glove box?"

Mary looked at the officer, who had a hand clamped firmly over his mouth. "It was a gift," she explained, her lip curling into a sneer. "Jinx thought it might spice up my sex life."

He pursed his lips, looking wholly unconvinced. "Ok? So then what's it doing with the nutritional info cut out and in a baggie in your car?"

"The package wouldn't fit in my glove box." A devilish grin stretched across her lips. "And besides, I know how you are about your caloric intake."

His brows drawn in confusion, Mary had the pleasure of watching stunned comprehension materialize in his baby blues. "Ok then." He turned away from her and back to the task at hand. "I know the registration is here somewhere."

Mary smiled politely up at officer. "So, you have a first name, Officer Davis?"

"Matthew," he said as he smirked down at her. He was average height, with a frame that promised to fill out well once he was done growing. She suspected at this point he was only sticking around for the entertainment value. She considered herself lucky that he hadn't radioed for back up or the whole world would be privy to the contents of her glove box.

The officer gestured that she should look behind her, and her stomach filled with dread. Marshall had another item in his hand held aloft for all to see. He didn't even bother with asking, looking between her and the 3x3 square in his hand labeled 'The Illustrated Pocket Kama Sutra'.

She slid a glance to the cop who held up both hands and took a step back. "No help at all," she snarled at him dismissively. She turned to her partner with her haughtiest expression. "It's for my book club."

Marshall's shoulders bunched as he choked in response to statement. "Your book club," he repeated like she was suddenly fluent in Urdu.

"Yeah," she conceded as she ran her fingers through her hair. "It was either that or 'Lady Chatterley's Lover'. I picked this one because it had more pictures and fewer words."

Marshall looked like all the breath had been pressed out of him. Instead of continuing to tease her about the book, he slid a piece of paper over to her. The registration, finally.

"Jesus, numbnuts, it took you long enough. I was afraid I was going to need to start Urban Search and Rescue." She handed off the registration to the now-laughing cop who walked back to his car. "Now you can put all that shit back where it goes."

He feigned a smile at her sarcasm and took a look around him at the detritus better befitting a ticker tape parade than the inside of a classic muscle car. "As m'lady wishes."

"Here you go, Marshal Shannon," Officer Davis reappeared at the window with the license, registration, and a ticket as Marshall was finishing his clean up. "You drive carefully now, and keep an eye on him, he seems kind of nosy."

Mary took one look at the ticket and rolled her eyes to Marshall. "Thanks, I'll keep that in mind." She passed off the paperwork to Marshall who was just about to close up the glove box.

Marshall looked at the ticket, immediately conflicted. On one hand, he was pleased that it was just a warning. On the other hand, he was distinctly dismayed to find the cop's phone number on the ticket with an entreaty for her to call him. He watched the cop pull around them and drive off down the street. Yeah, not so much. He pocketed the ticket as she turned the car on and they continued on their way.

It was blessedly silent on the way back to work, most likely because she was still pretty freaked out at Marshall's expedition into the tawdry depths of her glove compartment. She didn't owe him any explanations, really, but it had been entirely too much fun rattling his cage, once she got past the whole 'completely mortified but would go to jail for shooting her partner because of the cop standing right there' thing.

When she pulled into the parking space, Marshall got out and immediately started checking the floorboards and underneath the floor mat before glancing into the back seat.

"You looking for something in particular?" she asked him over the roof of the car as she shut the door.

The corner of his mouth curled up into a grin that was nothing but mischief. "Just checking to see if you had anything else in there with which you planned on challenging my caloric intake."

Mary snorted and started off towards the building. "Maybe, but it's not in the car, I can tell you that."

Marshall waited until they were in the elevator and she'd pushed the button for their floor to ask, "So, any chance I could join this book club?"