A/N: Hello, beautiful people! Has it really been seven months since we last saw each other? I cannot even wrap my head around it. It goes without saying that I have missed you all very much and deserve a sound scolding for being such a horrible reviewer while I have been away.

I admit that at the close of my last story, it was the first time I was afraid I would not return. I haven't been afforded the time or, indeed, the brainwaves required to churn out another fic. I don't know how stellar this one is, but it contains some of my old favorite characters that I have not revisited in years, and I can only hope that some of you remember them as well.

This is the fourth installment in my "Holiday Series," which is the only series of mine to date that takes place after the IPS series finale. All my others tend to begin somewhere in season four. But, starting with "Independence Day" and continuing through "By Thanksgiving" and "Every February," I have taken Mary and Marshall from their balcony conversation and moved them ever forward.

To recap from "Every February" just in case you don't want to go back and revisit it, Jinx has passed away, Stan and Lia have returned from DC to set up camp in Albuquerque once more, with Lia taking over Jinx's studio. Mark had acquired a serious girlfriend, Jill, at the end of the last tale and had just introduced her to Norah. Mary and Marshall had gotten married at the end of "By Thanksgiving."

Now, we have Norah at age thirteen and Mary's and Marshall's daughter Alice at age six. Brandi's kids, Robyn and Max, are twelve and nine, respectively, and this is where we greet them! The perils of middle school and mixed households and growing older all wrapped up in one. In keeping with the holiday theme, this one takes place at Halloween, and the 'perpetual' refers to Norah's disposition at this time in their lives (it's a stretch, but I'm bad with titles). I sincerely hope you enjoy the start!

XXX

To Mary, the telltale signs of autumn didn't manifest themselves in the changing of the leaves on the trees, the crisper, cooler temperatures, or the absence of the sun after six in the evening. Although, that wasn't to say she didn't enjoy the break from Albuquerque's more boiling summer months, where her cheeks were forever slightly sunburned and her feet overheated inside her always-chosen pair of black boots. The fall brought many welcome changes, and Mary was not a person who usually relished much change.

But, in spite of the bursting shades of red and orange on every corner, the winds that whistled through the trees and indicated she might want to don a jacket before walking out the front door, the true signal of September and October was the onslaught of homework foisted upon her children.

For the past two years, Mary and Marshall had developed a tried-and-true routine that kept their forever-swaying ship running smoothly. With both inspector and chief back in the WITSEC office almost on a full-time basis, there was rarely any time to spare. And so, while one cooked dinner and the other assisted with any papers to come home in backpacks, it was a fairly well-oiled machine.

But, on some nights – like this one, for example – the routine became slightly more cluttered. They had to revert to Plan B in order to accommodate a fuller house. Oftentimes, when Mary's frequently-jet-setting-brother-in-law was away on business, her home was occupied by more than just Norah and Alice. Robyn and Max were apt to join the fray as well, and that meant Brandi in their midst. Certain evenings, it was actually more helpful than harmful; a credit the elder sister thought she would never be able to give the younger. This was one change, in particular, that was difficult to see as negative.

With Marshall running late from work, the two Shannon women had their work cut out for them with a houseful of four, but the chaos had become mundane for Mary. With a gentle, cool autumn breeze wafting in through the open deck door, she kept her mind on peeling potatoes while Brandi took over her husband's usual role in aiding with homework. While the taller of the two longed to supervise to ensure things were getting done properly, she knew that success was more likely to be achieved if she stuck to her job preparing dinner.

Still though, certain tidbits couldn't help reaching her ears, even as she kept her back turned, slicing skins onto newsprint in the sink.

"What does s-t-r-u-g-g-l-e spell?"

That was Alice engaging in the usual nightly readings prescribed by her first grade teacher. Mary glanced over her shoulder to see to it that someone was going to answer her where she sat on one of the barstools at the island.

"Struggle," Robyn supplied, twisting and turning in her own chair opposite, not paying the slightest bit of attention to her schoolwork.

"What's it mean?" Alice inquired further.

"You know…" Robyn paused and took a breath. "I struggled against the ropes binding me to the tree lest I be washed out to sea!" she translated with a flourish.

Predictably, Alice giggled and cast her eyes back on her easy-reader, her elder cousin grinning fondly at the always-rapt-audience she had obtained in the little girl she had once yearned to feel growing in her aunt's belly.

Mary wouldn't be satisfied that they were working diligently until Robyn bent over her own homework, for Brandi was occupied with Max at the outer counter, her head buried in his bag. The girls used the opportunity while her back was turned to share a few more secrets, Robyn leaning stealthily across the table and whispering to Alice.

Twelve years old and a fairly new member of the sixth grade, Robyn was coming into her own in spectacular fashion, so much so that it was sometimes hard for Mary to believe she was once-wayward-Brandi's daughter. Since starting middle school, she had finally resigned herself to having her hair cut, just as blonde as ever. While it was still long, swinging like a curtain around her shoulders, it was nowhere near the tattered-Rapunzel-like rat's nest it had been when she was younger. By all accounts, it had been a good decision, because from everything Mary heard, her glossy locks and striking green eyes made her quite the popular entity on the sixth grade market. It seemed her theatrical, zealous nature was finally coming in handy.

"Babe, what are you supposed to be doing?" Mary called even as she reflected, sounding a little teacher-like. "I don't have to administer a pop quiz and whip out my red pen, do I?" she was able to poke fun at herself as her niece whirled around.

"Alice needed help with her reading," she insisted; the basis for her procrastination always had to do with Alice's supposed neediness. "And, I only have math and social studies, anyway…"

"Then you better get on it," Mary was not going to house these kids half the night, not if she wanted any alone-time with Marshall if he ever arrived. "These potatoes will be ready in twenty and those that aren't done get the ones with the eyes still in them…"

"Gross!" Alice squealed. "Potatoes don't have eyes!"

"Want to bet?" Mary taunted with a grin.

Both girls made faces at this, Alice's reminding her mother only semi-painfully of Jinx. Milky-skinned with her wide, oceanic eyes, her brunette curls almost as long as Robyn's stick-straight tresses, she certainly resembled her late grandmother more than any of the other children. And, in spite of her difficulty with the word 'struggle' Mary knew that her skills in school were nothing to be concerned with. In another month, she would be seven, and by all accounts she had inherited her father's brains, not that Mary was any slouch in the smarts department either.

"I have to read the story to someone anyway," the youngest Shannon chattered on. "It says so right here," she held up the plastic bag her teacher had sent home, along with the note dictating that it was best for the kids if they practiced their assigned stories out loud. "So, why can't I read to Robyn?"

"Because Robyn has her own work to do," Brandi finally mingled into the group, rapping her daughter sharply on the head with a yellow pencil. "You heard Mary. If you want dinner soon, you need to get started."

Being chastised by your own parent often did the trick, and Robyn reluctantly craned her neck over the aforementioned studies, Brandi motoring around to listen to Alice read. Max, it seemed, was taking care of himself, something he did extraordinarily well for a boy of nine.

Long and lanky, much like his Uncle Marshall, he had surpassed Alice significantly in height even though he was only two years older than she was. With his same wiry glasses and mop of sandy hair – even though it was really more brown than blonde these days – he oftentimes reminded Mary of an absentminded professor. His brilliance was a secret to all except her. While he was more than capable of managing whatever his workload was on his own, she still liked to see to it that he was given the opportunity for support, as he would be far too shy to ask for it.

"Max, what do you have tonight?" she inched as closely to the outside counter as she could manage while still being able to peel into the sink. "Nothing too taxing, I hope."

"Multiplication," he sounded dismal at the thought, wiggling into the only available stool left, away from the girls and printing his name at the top of a worksheet. "We're doing two's this week."

"Don't tell me your teacher doesn't have some corny rhyme to help you learn those facts."

"Not for two's," Max shrugged. "I guess she thinks they're too easy – no tricks."

"If you say so," Mary shook her head. "If you finish that up, you can help me with dinner," he liked to bake, and he also liked to feel busy – useful. "I wasn't planning on spoiling you guys with dessert tonight, but cookies may be in order if all we're having are baked potatoes."

Her nephew grinned at the offer, "Okay. It's only twenty problems, anyway."

"Speed of light, man," Mary encouraged, reaching over to rumple his hair, which produced another smirk.

All in all, the evening appeared to be running swimmingly. Alice was happy articulating one of her many boring stories to Brandi. Robyn, with covetous looks at the newly-acquired cell phone that was supposed to still be in her backpack, was mostly occupied. Max, glad to have something to do once he completed his math, was plugging along so quickly that his tongue was poking out the side of his mouth in his fervor. Yes, Mary thought, even without Marshall at the onset, they still operated under a very finely-tuned mechanism.

Except for the one loose wheel – likely to come clear off any day now if it wasn't screwed in tightly soon.

Norah was lounging in the living room, her backpack ten feet away by the front door, ankles crossed; pretending to be immersed in a chapter book, when in reality Mary knew she was taking in absolutely nothing. The sight, while exasperating on most nights, now produced a kind of sadness that the mother hadn't known she'd harbored for her eldest daughter until that very moment.

Unlike her more spirited cousin, Norah had been in middle school for a year already and found the confines nothing short of dull, wearisome, and detestable. While Robyn flourished under all that could be said during five minute passing periods and the ways in which she could win over seven different teachers, Norah found the perils of the seventh grade brutal and punishing. At least, Mary thought she did, but speaking to the oldest Shannon had become a bit of a war in and of itself.

The inspector still considered herself and her firstborn to be very close, as close as they ever were, but Norah was eerily reminding Mary more and more of herself with each passing day. She was extremely moody; one minute she was pleasant and agreeable, her usual witty self. The next she was nasty and short-tempered and nothing anybody said or did made any difference. Mary liked to think this was just part of being thirteen and that she would find her niche soon enough, but she could never be sure.

And, watching her sit, feigning interest in her book when the rest of the house was buzzing like bees, Mary knew before she even opened her mouth that a battle was going to wage if she goaded Norah into confessing what she was really supposed to be doing for homework.

But, she wasn't a mom for nothing, and moms, more often than not, had to play the bad guy. When you considered who her husband was, it was only fitting that she be the one to tighten the reigns. Marshall might be a bad ass, but when it came to the girls, he was a regular pussy cat.

"Norah, bring your bag over here!" Mary called over the noise of Alice reading at the top of her lungs to an audience of one; she hadn't quite learned how to use her inside voice when doing so yet. "I want to see what you've got."

Norah sighed, but at least if she was going to argue, she wasn't going to do it from across the room. Standing and dragging herself to the front door like there was lead in her feet, she retrieved her backpack, slinging it over one shoulder. Once in the kitchen, she threw her sister and cousin a scathing look that was so reminiscent of Mary that it was frightening.

"You aren't going to know anything by looking through my bag," she claimed, shoving the parcel into her mother's chest so she was forced to drop her potato peeler into the sink. "But, just so you know, I don't have any homework. I finished it at school."

"Uh-huh…" Mary grunted, lifting the backpack onto the counter and unzipping the largest pouch. "Don't they make you write down your assignments in homeroom at the end of the day?"

"Maybe…" Norah shrugged. "But, it's stupid. We're not a bunch of babies. Mrs. McCracken only checks them half the time, anyway, so it wouldn't matter if I wrote everything down or not."

Even so, Mary pulled out the planner she knew her child had buried somewhere in her bag, counting on her responsible streak to carry her through no matter how remiss her homeroom teacher was being. In spite of Norah's disdain for school, she usually still did what was expected of her. Flipping through the spiral notebook, she located the day in October they were on at present. Every column was filled in, including pages and problem numbers.

"My math's still in there, if you want to spy on that too," Norah interrupted her mother's reading with an eyebrow raised, jerking her head toward the bag. "But, I left my science at school since I finished it. I already told you that."

"Hmm…" the inspector hummed something between contempt at Norah's attitude and approval that she hadn't been lying. "Good. What were you reading, then?"

"I was reading ahead for English, but there's probably something wrong with that too."

"I never said that."

"Well, Mr. Perkins thinks there's something wrong with it. He gets pissed off every time he finds out I know what happens next…"

"Ooh!" Alice squealed from across the room, halting her storytelling with a gleeful grin on her face. "Norah said a baaaaaad word!"

"Shut up, Alice," the older sister snapped.

"You did, you did!" she continued to crow, pleased she had riled her as any pesky younger sibling was known to do. "I bet you heard that at Mark's house 'cause he says bad words all the time!"

"Not all the time…" Robyn interrupted, looking somewhat impressed by Norah's daring. "Just 'ass' and 'hell.'"

"Robyn!" Brandi scolded.

"I was just explaining!"

"Hell's an evil place!" Alice chimed in, looking nothing short of thrilled about all the profanity going around. "It's hot! It has fire!" where she had learned this, Mary had no idea, but she was about to find out. "I asked Jill one time after Mark said it, and that's what she told me! But, she said that's only what some people think – some people don't even believe in hell!"

Mary rolled her eyes at the mention of Mark's longtime girlfriend, but this was child's play compared to Norah's reaction. She ought of have known she would pop off; Alice's chattering was always a surefire way to test her temper.

"Well, that's because Jill's an idiot just like you!"

Mary knew she couldn't let this slip, "Norah, come on…" she chastised, grabbing her by the shoulder to turn her around, trying to show rather than tell her to forget it. "Leave it alone…"

"I am not!" Alice hollered, book forgotten entirely. "You're the stupid one! I heard what you said the other day – that your math teacher thinks you're dumb and that's why you got a big, fat F on that test you had!"

"If you don't shut up now, I'll shut you up, Alice!"

"Norah, stop!" Mary knew that at this age she would've said the exact same thing to Brandi, but she was grown now, and knew it was unacceptable. "Alice, keep reading, you hear?" she jutted her potato peeler in the direction of her youngest as a means to help her see that she was serious. "I mean it."

But Alice, while disheartened that she had been insulted by Norah, was feeling some margin of victory that she had gotten her goat. At almost-seven and thirteen, they were more at odds than ever before, and still having to share a bedroom didn't help. Norah found her little sister to be painfully immature and insufferable, whereas Alice insisted that the older was bossy and mean. Sibling rivalry was not uncommon, and Mary still held faint hope that this phase would pass quickly. And while she had always identified with Norah more than she did Alice, she couldn't help thinking that the littler of the two often had a point. Norah could be mean, but having to put up with Alice's antics didn't do her any favors.

"Does she have to listen to everything I say?" Norah sniped, still glowering in Alice's direction. "She's such a snoop. Who cares if I said 'pissed?' You say it all the time…"

"Yes, and the example I've set for you is stunning," Mary dripped with sarcasm, still trying to get her child to turn around and ignore Alice. "But, I'm more interested in that last bit."

"What?"

"Did you fail a math test?"

"No!" Norah raised her voice, her dark brown eyes looking dreary as well as anxious. "You don't even care that she eavesdropped – all you care about are the lies she's telling!"

"Norah," Mary lowered her tone, trying to stay calm and not attract the attention of anyone else in the vicinity. "Cool out, all right? I can talk to Alice about minding her own business; God knows I don't like people poking into mine…"

The other huffed, but said nothing.

"But, you're smart; you do well in math," she murmured, forgetting her potatoes entirely. "Are you having trouble? Do you need help…?"

"I didn't fail!" she bleated. "I was talking to Robyn on the phone and what I said was that Mr. Lacey hated me so much that he'd probably fail me no matter what! That's what Alice heard!"

"Okay…"

"We haven't had a test in, like, a month!" she prattled on, pleading her case. "And I got an A on the last one!"

"Well, fine. But, you think the teacher doesn't like you?"

"None of my teachers like me."

"Why is that?"

Mary couldn't imagine this was true, but she was willing to give Norah the opportunity to vent while she searched the back pocket of her backpack for anything she might've missed. There was something lumpy hiding in the rear pouch, and when she unzipped it, she was met with a rancid, rotting smell that almost made her throw up right where she stood. Forgetting all about her question, she reacted instantly, wrinkling her nose, her disgust spewing out her mouth before she could stop herself.

"What in the world have you been keeping in here?!" her goal was not to sound angry, but the stench of moldy socks was so strong she couldn't stop herself. "Oh, Jesus…" with some trepidation, she reached inside and pulled out a wad of fabric while Norah twitched her nose, but merely hunched her shoulders. "What is this?!"

"My gym clothes."

So they were. Mary recognized the royal blue mesh shorts and the grey T-shirt with Norah's school name spelled across the chest, her own name written in marker on a strip below the graphic of her mascot. It was as if someone had rolled them in a puddle of perspiration and left them out in the sun to dry.

"Christ almighty…how long have these been in your locker?" she wanted to know, tossing them to the counter. "When was the last time you brought them home to be washed?"

"I don't know," Norah spoke as if she didn't especially care. "Awhile, I guess…"

But, when Mary had thrown them aside, she noticed a half-slip of notebook paper safety-pinned to the shirt with squiggly writing on the lines. Looking skeptically at her daughter, who had turned suddenly evasive, she yanked the writings free, reading with her eyebrows narrowed.

When she had finished, her patience with her child had definitely thinned. She'd wanted to make a solid stab at understanding, knowing that the hazards of middle school could put anyone in a perpetually bad mood, but this was getting ridiculous.

"Your gym teacher said she docked your grade because she told you three times in the last two weeks to bring these home and you didn't do it," waving the evidence in her face. "Norah, seriously? This is gym; nobody fails gym…"

"I'm not failing…"

But, the use of this phrase brought Alice back into the mix, and at a most inopportune time.

"You're failing PE?!" she squawked in ecstasy. "Ha-ha!"

"Alice, enough!" Mary snapped. "Either get to work or I'm sending you to work in your room!"

"I just went from an A to B; it's not like…"

"I can't wait until I have PE again!" Robyn contributed out of nowhere. "You don't get to take it until seventh grade in middle school, and…"

"I love PE!" Alice ignored everyone, cutting Robyn off. "We have these scooters we get to play on, and…!"

"There aren't any scooters in middle school, nimrod!" Norah barreled on. "You don't know anything!"

"I'm smart enough to get an A in PE!"

"Guys, come on…!"

Mary had about had it with all of them, knowing that things always got a little discombobulated without Marshall, but fortunately on this occasion, he was there to save the day. With the click of the locks being undone and the squeak of the front door, he appeared, cutting the children's words apart with his presence alone. He brought cheerfulness even after a long day at the office and a sense of tranquility that Mary and Brandi never seemed able to achieve.

"Hello, all!" he bellowed, dropping his keys and sunglasses onto the end table. "So sorry I am late!"

"Hi daddy!" Alice squealed.

"Hello to you too, sugar!"

"Hi Marshall!" Robyn threw in. "Did you bring the bacon for the potatoes?"

"I surely did!"

The shift in dynamics gave Norah a chance to escape. Avoiding her smelly gym clothes and the taunts of her sister, she slipped away from Mary at once. While the mother opened her mouth to tell her to get back where she'd been so they could discuss her defiance in PE, she changed her mind at the last minute. Marshall was one of the few people who could make her smile these days, and she was hard-pressed to deny her that.

In any case, her focus was distracted when Max appeared as though from thin air, looking timid and shy. He hated tension and even though the arguing was routine, he still wanted to stay out of the fray.

"I finished," he whispered in a small voice.

"Your math? Already?" Mary asked.

"Mmm hmm."

"All right, um…" glad for the assistance, she glanced into the sink and retrieved the potato she had dropped earlier. "Do you know how to peel potatoes?"

"Yep."

"You sure? You're not gonna cut yourself, are you?"

"No. Mom showed me once."

"Okay…"

Sometimes, Mary didn't know what she would do without Max. His ability to keep his head down and stay quiet amongst the turmoil created by the girls was a gift. Sometimes, it might hold him back, but it was a blessing now that he was growing up to be able to march to the beat of his own drum.

Meanwhile, Norah had accosted Marshall at the door, and the man was surprised to be greeted before he'd even taken off his suit jacket, but that was Norah these days. When she spun, she came to him, and while he often felt badly for Mary in these circumstances, he knew she wanted Norah to be happy – that was what was most important.

"Hey, champ. What's up?"

He patted her shiny blonde hair, tied back in a ponytail and falling in wisps down her neck. Like Robyn, hers was much shorter than it had been when they were young, barely reaching her shoulders when it was not contained by a rubber band.

"How was school?" Marshall prodded when she didn't say anything, although he did index her moving closer to him.

"Same as always…"

His eyes caught a novel lying open on the couch when he swung his jacket over the back and saw the opportunity for conversation.

"What's the story?" he indicated the book. "An enthralling saga, I hope."

"It's 'Johnny Tremain,'" she disclosed. "Parts of it are boring, but I like some of it if I can understand it…"

"Well, how about after dinner you can show me where you're at and we can talk about it?"

No matter how nerdy, no matter how much of a bookworm it made her, there were few things Norah liked better these days than delving into a good book with Marshall. It reminded her of days of old, before locker rooms and even before baby sisters, when she lay snuggled under the covers with a bedtime story, her mother and the man who used to only be her mother's boyfriend tucking her in. It was a sense of safety it was hard to recapture as the years raced by.

"You'll have time to do that?" Norah wanted to make sure.

"You know me," Marshall grinned and tried to keep the smile on his face as he glanced up and saw Mary watching them from her post in the kitchen. "I always have time for you, gorgeous."

XXX

A/N: We have to start somewhere! I am so thrilled to be back and am crossing my fingers I have some loyal readers that are still interested in the wonderful IPS which will always have left the airwaves too soon. I would love to hear your thoughts on this first chapter!