A/N: A simple XOXO to start us off! ;)

XXX

Come Monday afternoon, Mary finally started to feel like things were getting back to normal. Although they were hosting Stan's retirement gathering the next night, plans were in place; Jesse was back in school, Mary and Marshall both back at the office for a full day in the Sunshine Building. Not to mention, Mark had boarded the plane to return to Jersey, seeming to think Jinx's impromptu engagement soiree was a good substitute for Stan's party being pushed out.

When three o'clock rolled around, Mary appealed to Marshall across the room at his desk to make sure everything was, indeed, lined up for the next night.

"You ordered the ribs, right?" she looked up from her work, biting her nails like she was nervous. "And the pork rinds?"

"You don't order pork rinds," Marshall corrected her. "I picked them up at the store yesterday; I'll grab the ribs on my way home tomorrow; I already put my name in."

"I just…" Mary began.

"You've asked me about thirty times," Marshall remarked dryly. "It'll be a cinch. We have the ribs, we have the rinds, you got the jelly beans, Delia's bringing the muffins; we'll get the cake tomorrow, and I've got red velvet cupcakes in the works…"

"In the works?" Mary narrowed her eyes skeptically while Marshall continued working without a hitch. "What does that mean?"

Red velvet cupcakes were Mary's favorite; not many people were aware of that.

"Someone's bringing them," her husband mused casually.

"Someone who?" Mary was not going to be baited into this. "How many people are going to invading my home, eating my food and drinking my wine and generally giving me more exposure to the human race than I typically care to engage with?"

Marshall finally looked up, appropriately exasperated with such an attitude.

"The hostess doesn't usually pick the guests, Mare," he reminded her. "We started with a party of ten…"

"You, me, and Stan…" Mary started ticking off on her fingers.

"Sam and Jesse…" Marshall continued.

"Brandi, Peter, mom, and George…" Mary counted nine.

"Two of which in that group will not be drinking your wine, just as a friendly reminder," Marshall interjected cheekily, and Mary scowled.

"And Delia," she finished. Without even giving Marshall a chance to open his mouth again, "And I don't remember any of them offering to bring red velvet cupcakes."

"Stan added two more," Marshall conceded with a would-be-relaxed shrug. "Twelve is hardly country-club worthy."

"What two?" Mary was becoming increasingly suspicious.

But her husband was spared the task of answering when Stan himself emerged from the office, in his shirt sleeves once again. The weather was rapidly turning warmer and they were holding out on running the air conditioning to avoid the monthly bill before June. Stan looked sweltering, and his shiny face was rosy, yet genial.

"Go home, you two," he announced without introduction, fanning himself with a file folder. "You're spinning in circles on nothing that's earth-shattering at the moment; get out of here and rest up for tomorrow."

They'd both been uncharacteristically tired with the big evening the night before; although it was rare they both made it into the office at the same time these days.

"I'm almost finished," Marshall informed their boss. "Then we'll pack up and go."

"Speak for yourself; I've still got stuff to do," Mary griped, the workaholic that still lived in her rearing its head.

"We took the SUV this morning," Marshall reminded her. "If I'm going, so are you."

"Don't make me turn it into an order, inspector," Stan jumped on the bandwagon, classically wagging his finger. "Whatever you've got can wait until tomorrow, or at least until you get home," he rationalized.

Mary continued frowning until Stan's fatherly grin broke her down and she gave a resigned, spectacular roll of her eyes. But to Stan, it was as close to a yes as he was going to get.

"But before you take off," the chief assumed he had been successful in his attempt to get rid of his inspectors. "I need one of you to dig up my files from when I was first assigned to Albuquerque…"

"Are those down in the vault with the mimeographs and ditto pages?" Mary snarked and she heard Marshall laugh before he answered.

"They're in my cabinet back here," he jerked his thumb at the one behind his desk. "What do you need them for?"

"Archiving – just a precaution," Stan explained. "See you two tomorrow."

Both called their goodbyes as Mary offered to do the unearthing, while Marshall completed whatever he was doing before they took off to greet Sam arriving home from school. She stacked up her papers and tossed her phone, keys, and sunglasses into her tote before pushing her chair back and heading across the room to join her husband.

Standing behind him as she nosed around in the bottom drawer of the file cabinet, she could hear the steady scratching of his pencil, the way he shifted in his chair as he reached the end of a line. All sounds that were part of Marshall, sounds she loved, sounds she could listen to over and over again. He helped solidify how firmly she'd always believed that conversation didn't take precedence.

She ended up having to hoist the entire panel of folders out of the cabinet to get a handle on them, and when she did she found that the bottom of the drawer was littered with abandoned pieces of slick paper, most commonly of the four-by-six variety.

Once she found the proper documents, she set them aside and, curiosity getting the better of her; she fingered what she knew to be old photographs strewn across the bottom.

"Did you know you had all these in here?" she asked, none of them very surprising shots; ones she remembered having been on Marshall's desk at one time or another.

"What are 'all these?'" he inquired, turning in his seat to see Mary crouched on the floor. "Oh, yeah," he shrugged. "I didn't have anywhere else to put them once the desk got too full…"

Mary nodded as she pawed through pictures of Sam at varying ages, his hair turning from maple syrup to deep brown; front-toothless in December of his first grade year, proudly showing off art projects in second, and candid after candid of the two of them together. Much as Mary enjoyed pictures, she didn't love being captured so all the shots Marshall kept had her caught off-guard with her son. There was even one of her asleep on the couch – looking completely awful so she was glad it was in the drawer – Sam maybe a month old passed out on her chest.

She reached out a finger and traced his little body, hardly daring to believe he had ever once been so small. Marshall turned to check on her again, and he chortled softly.

"I thought sure you'd smack me when you found out I took that," he joked. "You weren't such a fan of your new-mom physique," he recalled.

"Why; because I was shaped like a Teletubby?" she murmured disdainfully.

"Only without the head gear," Marshall remarked. "Like any Teletubby is that gorgeous a month after giving birth."

She felt her face go red and was grateful she was turned away from him, convincing herself it was just the late afternoon sun streaming through the high windows. He still knew how to make her feel like a silly schoolgirl who snuck a kiss during passing period.

She'd almost cleaned the drawer out before she noticed one, rather large shot upside-down straight across the base. She had to peel it loose, unable to get her fingers around it; it had obviously been in the drawer quite awhile.

Once she was able to slip it out and turn it around, she felt the cliché lump in her throat at seeing it was one of Sam's sonogram photos – most likely, the one she'd given to Marshall after they'd returned from her first excursion to Kansas after Seth had died. That meant she would've been about six months along, and the outline of the unborn Shannon reminded her so forcefully of that day.

"Huh…" Marshall articulated fondly, swiveling around in his seat another time. "I'd forgotten I put that one in there…" he reached out to take it and Mary obeyed, still sitting on the ground.

"You remember when you gave me this?" he asked, proving he could still read his wife's mind.

"Yeah…" she murmured shortly. "Jesus…sometimes it seems like forever ago and others…"

"Seems like it was yesterday," Marshall finished for her, and she nodded.

She saw him grin at the frame of blacks and whites; squinting at his son's unborn figure, "Look at the schnoz on him…" he chuckled, referring to his nose. "No way was it that big when he came out."

Mary decided to leave him to his memories while she stuffed everything back in the drawer, knowing Stan was waiting for his files. There would be nothing in this space now except the pictures; they'd have to remember to fill it up with something more useful as time went by.

Just as she was about to slam it shut and call it a day, her eye caught one she hadn't looked at closely enough and she pulled it out to get a better look.

"Did you take this?" she asked of Marshall while she studied.

"Yeah," he answered, peering over his desired photograph to see which she was looking at. "Well, me or Peter. We were both snapping a lot that day."

It only made sense, because the shot in question showed Mary, Brandi, Sam, and Jesse in the hospital just days after Jesse had been born. Brandi was in bed, looking appropriately groomed for pictures; her hair pulled back. Her blue eyes shone as she cradled the positively miniscule Jesse, curled up against her chest and fast asleep. His mouth was hanging wide open, but Mary remembered it was one of the first clear attempts they'd gotten of his face not all scrunched up. He'd been a few weeks early and a little small; like a tiny, soft football.

Mary was sitting next to Brandi in a chair and trying to corral eighteen-month Sam, who had loved the flashes on the camera and was reaching outward as though to touch them. He had on jeans and a plaid shirt, and Mary felt her heart teeter seeing him look the part of the sheriff. There was a devious grin on his face; he was almost sliding off Mary's lap trying to get at all the brightness and Mary had one of her hands up waving to the camera, trying to get her son to pay attention.

"I love that one," Marshall went on with their conversation. "You all look way happier than you actually were," he made himself laugh. "You were pissed we were trying to get so many shots in one sitting."

"Sam couldn't even contain himself!" she protested in defense. "And you two were going to blind poor Jesse; no wonder he conked out. Brandi was the only one having a good time."

"Ah, the new-mom-glow…" Marshall mused philosophically. "Nothing like it."

"Whatever doofus," Mary waved an irritable hand and tried to be as nonchalant as possible as she asked, "Mind if I confiscate it?"

He shrugged unconcernedly, "Your mug, your call."

"Thanks," she told him, and she finally lifted herself off the floor, kicking the drawer shut with her foot and stooping once more to grab Stan's files before they made their departure.

Marshall finished his work within the next five minutes, and then the two of them were on the road back home, ready to get a more soothing night's sleep before the work and festivities that awaited them on Tuesday. What Mary didn't expect was to find Brandi and Jesse in her living room when they got there. Now that the parents were back, she'd figured they'd confine themselves to their own home.

They were just sitting on the couch, lounging around like it was their home. Mary didn't exactly mind, but it piqued her interest and she got to the bottom of it at once, Marshall in tow.

"What's the story?" she asked, sliding her sunglasses onto her head and throwing her keys and phone onto the end table by the door. "Should I consider this breaking and entering?"

Brandi and Jesse stood up in unison, looking a little bit rehearsed, while Marshall went to the kitchen to find something to drink.

"How was school?" Mary found herself asking before either her sister or her nephew could respond.

She'd been wondering after Jesse's little incident, especially given he was still supposed to have been suspended. Maybe the district was wising up and figuring out keeping kids who didn't want to be at school in the first place out of school wasn't the best solution.

"It was good," he nodded, still at Brandi's side, but looking a little bit nervous.

Their behavior was very strange, even given everything that had gone on. Mary and Brandi hadn't said much to each other since the evening they'd fought, given that her sister was all caught up in Jinx's engagement. But as far as she knew, Brandi and Jesse were on their way to patching things up and she wished they would spill before she got annoyed.

"Jesse actually has something that he wants to ask you…" Brandi recited stiltedly, and she nudged her son forward like he was about to approach a podium.

Mary flashed Marshall, who was stationed at the counter, a look of bewilderment before she turned back to Jesse.

"Well, let's hear it," she invited, now wanting to get this over with.

He took a deep breath and Mary realized that his impeccable manners were about to return, which meant things were indeed shifting back into gear. She noticed Brandi had an innocent, obliging look on her face as though she wanted Mary to 'go easy.'

He swallowed once more before proceeding.

"I got to school today, and we had a new girl in our class…" he began. "She's from Santa Fe, and I'm not sure why they had her come to school at all since it's going to be over in like two weeks…"

He paused, shifting his eyes sideways as a way of showing he found this of little importance, and went on.

"But anyway, she was all by herself at recess so I asked her to play with me…"

Mary's heart began to sing – chanting and humming in a hopeful, spirituous rhythm. He'd stepped up; he'd gone outside his comfort zone. Mary internally prayed the results had been good.

"And she's really nice!" he obviously couldn't resist bursting the rest. "We shot hoops on the goals at the other end of the playground and she's great at basketball…"

It was like feet thudding in her ribcage; gazelles and zebras on stampede

"And she's new, so I know she must not have any friends, and so…" he swallowed again, and Mary sensed the important part coming. "So I asked her if she wanted to come to Stan's party tomorrow – I didn't tell her what it was for; I promise!" he declared proudly. "I just said he was sort of like a policeman and he wasn't going to be anymore and that there was going to be a party and…"

His face was flushed he was so excited and Brandi looked near tears at seeing him finally getting a break, finally having a bout of good fortune.

"She said she'd ask her mom, but can she come?" there was such an earnest shine in his green eyes. "Can she please come, Mary?"

Mary had absolutely no inkling of saying no, but Marshall either thought she was going to or was just as joyful as she was about it, because he bounded right back into the living room and spoke before she got a chance.

"Of course she can!" he practically boomed, and Jesse beamed; a broad and genuine smile stretching across his face. "What's her name, man?"

"Ellie," he answered at once. And then, unable to resist the gratitude, "Thank-you!"

And he dashed the two strides to reach his uncle and threw his arms around his waist, forgetting Mary completely. Marshall chuckled and so did Brandi; Marshall smoothed his hair beneath him and lifted his gaze to his wife's in happiness. She was keeping herself calm and moderate as she always tried to in such situations, but Jesse's delight was going to get contagious.

"No problem," the man assured his nephew before releasing him.

"I'm gonna call her mom tonight to make sure we're on the same page," Brandi finally spoke again. "I saw her real quick after school, but I wanted to make sure it was okay with you guys…"

"It is absolutely okay," Marshall blundered on. "The more the merrier."

Brandi smiled at him, endeared to his easygoing, gentle personality. Jesse was still grinning breathlessly, like he couldn't quite believe his luck. But as he came down off the peak a little bit, he seemed to note that Mary had yet to say anything and turned to his aunt for approval.

"Is it all right with you if she comes, Mary?" he ventured cautiously.

Mary hadn't meant to make him think otherwise and was quick to nod.

"Yes Jess," she created the unintentional rhyme and corrected herself, "Stan will love having another heathen around; it'll make him feel youthful."

Jesse giggled and repeated his prior words of sincerity, "Thank-you."

Mary shook her head, smiling softly, "Quit thanking us; you brown-noser," she teased, jabbing his chest with her finger and he laughed again.

"Come with me, Jess," Marshall decided, waving his hand to indicate the kitchen. "I'll find you a snack; you can tell me all about this Ellie. She cute?"

This earned him yet another, much more embarrassed giggle as Jesse tried to follow him to the fridge, but then Mary remembered the four-by-six in her bag and why she had impounded it from the bottom of the file cabinet.

"Hang on Smoosh," she put up a finger to stop him and he obeyed while she buried her head in her tote at the side of the couch. "Got something I wanted to show you…"

The three of them waited while she came up with it and Jesse stepped over once he saw the page emerge, anxious for a glance.

Looking at the tiny baby in the hospital photo, the over-boisterous brown-haired boy, not to mention Mary and Brandi; he put the pieces together pretty quickly.

"Is that me?"

"Of course it's you," Brandi told him before Mary could come up with a smart remark. "And Sam."

"That's Sam?" he laughed, pointing to the child in the picture. "What's he doing?"

"Trying to catch the flashes. It was all I could do to keep him on my lap," Mary answered.

Jesse chuckled again, running his thumb along the edges of their outlines, like he was fingering Mary's long honey hair, circling the pink spots on Brandi's cheeks. Marshall had been right – they did look happy. If they weren't, they'd hid it quite well.

"Were you really all by yourself when I came?" Jesse inquired after a moment, turning to look up at his mother.

Brandi took pause, "…Is that the word on the street?" she fumbled.

"No," he replied seriously. "It's what Mary told me – that dad was in a meeting, and Jinx was a dance competition, and she and Marshall were in Kansas. So you were alone."

"I was for a little while," Brandi responded truthfully, eyes not leaving her sister's. "Dad showed up pretty fast, and Mary and Marshall flew back from Kansas in case dad couldn't make it."

"Yeah," Jesse grinned. "She told me that too," and then his eyes found the photo again.

Brandi offered Mary a soft smile when he wasn't looking, and Mary guessed this was supposed to be a silent thank-you for making her seem somehow heroic during her childbearing years.

"Jess, do you want to keep that?" Mary found herself asking him to avoid the conspicuous looks.

He turned to his aunt, "Could I?"

Mary spared Marshall a brief glance, as the photo-hoarder, but he nodded without hesitation.

"It's yours," she reinforced.

Perhaps to keep Jesse from offering another set of thanks, Marshall persisted in getting him in the kitchen.

"What do you want to eat Jess?" he inquired. "Fruit roll up or those cinnamon graham crackers?"

Jesse answered, still holding his picture, and followed his uncle, leaving Mary and Brandi by themselves in the living room.

Mary didn't relish an awkward silence or even an awkward discussion, but she still wasn't sure what to say to Brandi after they'd sparred. Granted, they were very used to arguing but it was usually about nothing. James and earlier days was a much more sensitive subject and could not always be brushed over so skillfully.

"I guess Sam's not here," Mary voiced over the babble of Marshall and Jesse at the island.

"No…no…" Brandi shook her head. "He wasn't when Jesse and I got here; I guess he must've gone home with someone."

"Probably," Mary agreed unnaturally cordially, and then the hush fell again.

She shuffled her feet, knowing she ought to speak up, to just put out in the open what both of them were thinking, but it wasn't as easy as all that. Admitting fault was somewhere ahead and Mary never did well with that.

Fortunately, Brandi took the plunge first.

"Mare, about the other night…"

"What about it?" her sister interrupted for no good reason, already argumentative.

"I just…" Brandi shrugged. "I'm sorry that I blamed you for what happened," she confessed, sounding much like Sam. "You didn't have anything to do with it – you were right; I should've told Jesse way before now."

"I do enjoy hearing I'm right," Mary quipped. "It's not like I wanted him to find out."

"I know," Brandi sighed, brushing her bangs out of her eyes as she continued. "And I never thanked you for taking care of him when he was so upset. I mean, if there's anybody I'd want him to be with…"

She cast her a fleeting, admiring glance and Mary felt her defense abate a little bit. Brandi was very good at weeding her down when she reminded Mary of just how much her little sister looked up to her – even now. Mary may not have done the best job she could've raising her, but she still looked to her for guidance and that had never changed.

"Don't get sentimental, Squish," was Mary's less-than-heartfelt response, even as she realized.

"Mary…" Brandi breathed, eyes skirting into the kitchen momentarily to make sure Marshall and Jesse were still occupied. "Just…there are times I don't think I amount to much when I see how Jesse looks at you…" she admitted. "I really don't compare…"

"Brandi, don't be stupid," her sister said bluntly, but there was meaning behind it. "You're his mother; he's not supposed to think you're cool or fun or at all entertaining or amusing. You're just his mother."

Brandi nodded, knowing this was true, but still wanting to be something more. Even as they both remembered having the 'party mom' and not loving it. It was never as awesome as it seemed.

"You think Sam thinks I'm anything to sneeze at?" Mary pressed on. "You know how much he favored you when he was younger."

"He favored Marshall, actually," Brandi chuckled softly, and Mary found herself doing the same, nodding in agreement.

"He still thinks you're pretty great," Mary found herself saying. "Jesse, that is," she clarified. "Why do you think he was so pissed about what happened? He thought you were perfect and hung the moon."

Brandi looked a little guilty as she digested that, but it wasn't how Mary had meant for it to come off.

"Every kid learns their parents aren't perfect at some point," she decided. "You should count yourself lucky Jesse got eleven years of thinking you were – better off than the two of us."

Brandi tried to smile at that, knowing what Mary meant even if it wasn't very poetic. Mary also knew now that Brandi had done her part and owned up; it was her turn to do the same. If she just got it over with quickly, even if she didn't necessarily believe some of it, she could be done and move on. That was her song these days.

The younger Shannon seemed to sense that Mary was preparing herself and had the sense to keep quiet. The mention of their parents had brought it back for both of them.

"Brandi, you aren't a screw-up," Mary muttered in a very low voice, eyes pointed upward into her face because her chin was tipped toward the ground. "One day, I might remember to act like it."

"Maybe someday," Brandi mused with a smirk. "You might just be growing up, Mare," she teased playfully.

Hey, if Jesse was, perhaps she could too.

A/N: Just a handful of chapters to go!