Mary Shannon jerked awake. She automatically rolled to her right, reaching for the nightstand where she always kept her phone and her gun. There was something else on her nightstand these days, though. Something else that could cause her to wake up with instincts screaming. She blinked, trying to clear her vision while her mind tried to wake up. Her subconscious and conscious minds had a pow-wow and determined that it was the lack of sound that had jarred her awake. Grumbling half-enunciated curses, Mary stood up from the bed.

She tiptoed down the hall but stopped when she noticed the faint light coming from her living room. Changing direction, she slipped quietly into the room. What she found in the dimly lit room caused a soft smile to stretch across her sleepy face.

Marshall Mann, impossibly long legs stretched straight out in front of him, half-reclined in her over-sized armchair. His dark hair fell in gentle disarray across his relaxed features. His eyes were closed. There were fine wrinkles around the corners of his eyes, now. They hadn't been there five years ago. Too many long days staring into the New Mexico sun and too many long nights staring down his partner were starting to show. He still had on his dusty jeans, cowboy boots, and dress shirt. His go-bag sat on the floor by the door. He should have been on assignment in Denver for another night, but had obviously come home early and let himself in with his spare key.

The reason he'd bothered to sack out in her chair, instead of his perfectly comfortable bed in his apartment across town, lay curled on his chest. Her tiny head tucked against his shoulder, one tiny fist clutched near her mouth, Mary's three month old daughter slept. Marshall's shirt was unbuttoned so that the little girl could have skin to skin contact. It had been Marshall, of course, who'd told Mary all about "kangaroo care" for preemies. She'd picked on him about showing off his "scrawny" physique for the NICU nurses, but Marshall had only given her that special smile of his and gone right on baring his chest for her daughter.

Mary crossed the room. She picked up the mostly empty bottle on the end table and deposited it in the kitchen sink. When she walked back by the chair, Marshall's free arm moved. He caught her wrist in an easy grasp.

"Doofus, you do know there's a perfectly good couch right over there?"

"She needs to be upright to burp properly."

Not even aware of what she was doing, Mary reached out to run her fingers through his hair. "You look tired. You should be in bed."

"Had to check on my girls." He splayed his fingers across the baby's back and stood up with a ridiculous amount of grace for such a lanky man.

Mary followed him across the room and down the hall. "I didn't hear her cry."

"I know," he whispered. "I figured you could use the sleep. " Bending over the crib, Marshall easily transferred the softly snoring baby to the bed. He ran the pad of his thumb over her downy head. The tender gesture made Mary's heart contract. Once they'd both checked to make sure the monitor was on, they tiptoed out and pulled the door halfway closed.

Marshall pulled her into an easy, friendly, hug. Against her hairline, he murmured, "Missed you two girls. Any problems while I was gone?"

"Nope." She squeezed him gently before stepping away. " You should get some sleep."

"Mind if I sack out on the couch? I'm not up to driving."

"Dumbass," she whispered affectionately. "You know you don't fit on the couch. Come on." She pulled him toward her bedroom.

"Mare," he protested, voice tinged with emotional and physical weariness.

"Oh shut your hole. I'm not going to assault you in your sleep. You do have to take your boots off, though."

"Just my boots?"

Already crawling under the covers, Mary pushed her hair out of her eyes. "Lose the shirt, cowboy. I want to see if this kangaroo care is all it's cracked up to be."

Sliding under the covers, Marshall reached over and pulled her head onto his shoulder. "Your daughter enjoys it."

"Our daughter, doofus."

A/N : Kangaroo Care is the name given to the skin-to-skin bonding technique used with premature infants in the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit (NICU).