A/N: Merry Christmas, IPS fans! I just can't stay away from this fandom. I hope there are still some of my faithful readers/reviewers out there, and some new ones too. Enjoy this IPS present, told from Marshall's POV, and drop me a line at the end in a review.

Christmas Eve, 1987

Santa Fe, NM

"No, Seth, I don't understand. I know that your work is important – but it's Christmas! It's bad enough that you missed Marshall's birthday last week-"

I stopped halfway down the stairs, not wanting my mom to know that I was overhearing their yearly argument about my dad not being home for the holidays.

"Sixteen, Seth, Marshall is sixteen years old! How many birthdays and holidays have you missed with him and the boys – that's time you'll never get back! When you're a bitter old man you'll regret it because you will be the one begging for time with them and your grandchildren!"

I heard her slam the phone down, followed by the sound of her quiet sobbing and I couldn't take it anymore. I ran down the last few steps and into the front room.

"Mom-" I said and she turned towards me with a gasp.

"Marshall! I didn't – were you-"

I nodded and her shoulders slumped in defeat. "I never wanted you to hear me and your dad-"

I slung an arm around her, and she buried her face in my side. Mom was on the short side, but I had shot up this past school year, and as a result, the top of her head barely reached my armpit now. "You and dad always talk loud – even when you aren't fighting."

She pulled back and made a face at me. "That just shows how much we care about each other – and you. He said to tell you happy birthday."

"Better late than never."

"Don't be like that, Mars. You know he loves you – and he would have been here if not for-"

"Work, yeah, I know." I rolled my eyes. "You know, I've heard that excuse all my life and it just doesn't hold water anymore, Mom."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, for example, I've gone to school with the mayor's son and a judge's daughter – and neither one of their parents have missed birthdays and holidays-"

"That's not a fair comparison," Mom interrupted me. "Neil and Judy – their parents don't have to travel for their job – they don't work for the US Marshal service – they don't hunt down dangerous criminals and bring them to justice to keep this country safe. The job your father does is terribly important."

"More important than us? I heard you on the phone just now, Mom. You said that one day dad would regret not spending this time with us-"

"You shouldn't have been eavesdropping on an adult conversation. You're not old enough to understand things like marriage and children -"

"I'm old enough to know that I'm going to do things differently when I'm a grown up. I'm going to be a better man than my father. I'm going to be the best US Marshal, and the best father – always home for Christmas."

My mom bit her lip and I could see that she was trying not to laugh. "You think it's that easy – to just make a declaration now, at sixteen, and say I'm going to learn from my father's mistakes – when you haven't even been to college, or had a girlfriend?"

I felt myself grow warm. It was true – so far, I had had several friendships with the opposite sex, but if even one girl batted her eyelashes or flirted with me, I turned into a stammering, blushing, incoherent mess. My father, when he was home, reassured me that this was just a phase that would pass, and soon enough I would have the ladies eating out of the palm of my hand. But I silently wondered when the phase would pass, or if I would have this lack of self-confidence when it came to females for the rest of my life.

"Hey," my mother interrupted my thoughts as she stood on tiptoe and cupped my face. "My Marshall can do anything he puts his mind to, you hear me?"

I nodded.

"So, if your goal is to be the best US Marshal, and the best father who is always home for the holidays – I have no doubt that somehow, someday, you will achieve that."

PRESENT DAY

December 20, 2011

Albuquerque, NM

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY, MARSHALL!"

I raised my glass in silent acknowledgement to the chorus of well-wishers and then turned to my girlfriend and clinked my flute against hers.

"Happy birthday, sugar britches," she whispered, stretching on tiptoes, and planting a long kiss on my lips. She leaned in, prolonging the contact, and I felt myself growing warm with embarrassment because we were standing in front of co-workers and friends, putting on quite a public display of affection. I cleared my throat and took a step back, breaking the liplock.

She sighed at my flushed face and gave me a slight push, nodding at me in understanding. "Go mingle and talk to your guests-"

I raised my eyebrows. "You're the one who planned this party-"

"It's not every day you turn the big four-oh –"

I groaned. "Please, don't remind me."

I worked my way through the small gathering until I reached the back of the room where my partner and best friend was sitting alone at a small table, frowning at the drink in her hand.

"Wishing it was something stronger?" I teased as I bumped her shoulder and sat next to her.

Mary fixed a fake mega-watt smile on her face. "You know I can't have alcohol while I'm breastfeeding-"

"Actually, you can have one drink – the effects of the alcohol would be out of your system by the time you get home to feed Norah-"

"Really? Gimme that-" She grabbed my drink and drank it in one gulp, sighing after she swallowed. "God, I've forgotten how good that tastes."

I laughed.

"So, how does it feel to be the big four-oh? You're an old man now-"

"Careful, Mer – you're not that far behind me-"

"Ouch! You're touchy tonight! What gives?"

I sighed as I stared into space. How could I explain to Mary, the woman who thought she knew me better than anyone else, that tonight of all nights, I felt like time was running out? My grandmother's ring was practically burning a hole in my pocket – I had planned to propose to my girlfriend this holiday season. If not tonight, then over the holidays at her parents' house. I wasn't getting any younger and the beautiful brunette loved me – ME, Marshall Mann. I knew that with Abigail I could have the future I always dreamed of, that I could finally fulfill that childhood vow of being the best US Marshal and start my own family, be the kind of father mine never was, one who was always home for the holidays. And yet, something was holding me back. Was it the lingering feelings I still secretly harbored for the blonde sitting next to me or was it something more?

My eyes scanned the crowd until I found Abigail – she was so beautiful – and young. She was eight years younger than me – usually the age difference didn't bother me – but tonight, on my birthday, now that I was forty, suddenly I felt like an old man next to her – tired, and so very worn out.

I jumped when I felt Mary's hand on my knee.

"Marshall, what's wrong?"

"Nothing – I'm fine."

She shook her head at me. "Don't do that – don't lie to me. Are you – are things ok with the Texas cheerleader?"

"I've asked you not to call her that-"

"Sorry."

"No, you're not. You're not sorry and you've never liked her – why is that?"

Mary withdrew her hand. "I – I never said I didn't like her."

"You didn't have to, Mer. You're about as subtle as a sledgehammer-"

"And you spout useless trivia and other nonsense to avoid talking to me about how you really feel."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I'm calling a time out, like you've done so many times with me. Is everything OK with you?"

"Mary, I-"

A shadow fell over us and we both turned to see Abigail looking down on us with a frown.

"Am I interrupting?"

"Yes-" Mary began.

"No-" I interrupted, hastily scrambling to my feet. "I was just giving Mary some facts about breastfeeding and alcohol consumption-"

Shock crossed my girlfriend's face. "Really?"

I nodded. "Let's go find Stan. I want to make sure everything's in place for my vacation time. Enjoy the party, Mary."

Abigail and I were planning to leave for Texas, to spend the holidays with her family, on Thursday evening. That still left forty-eight hours for Mary to grill me about what had been bothering me at my party. But to my surprise, she kept her distance in the office, and when we went out to visit our witnesses, she was quiet in the car. It was then that I realized she was giving me the silent treatment. She was mad at me. I had offended her in some way when I had 'run away' from her at my party and now I must win my way back into her good graces. I had played this song-and- dance with her countless times over the years of our partnership, and I knew that the first step was to wait for evidence of a thaw – until then, the door would remain firmly shut.

The truth of the matter was that I was still working out exactly why I had been so out of sorts at my own birthday party. Yes, I had turned forty. Yes, I seemed to be more aware of the fact that Abigail and were eight years apart in age – but why should that bother me now? Was it because I was thinking of proposing over the holidays? It was a big step, but I had been thinking about it for several weeks now and I thought it was the next logical step in our relationship.

Logical?

Is that what I really thought? The next logical step? Shouldn't I propose to Abigail because I was madly, passionately in love with her and couldn't spend another day without her as my wife? The truth is she was young and crazy about me and if I still wanted to fulfill that insane goal of having a family of my own to come home to everyday, Abigail was my best bet.

But is that what she was – the means to an end, a goal to be accomplished? What about love? Did I love her like I loved-

I felt my face flush at the turn my thoughts had taken as my eyes darted across the office floor to Mary. Her tongue was sticking out between her teeth as she focused on her computer screen, her eyebrows scrunched in thought. Suddenly, she banged the top of her desk and grinned.

"I won! Take that, you mother fu-"

"Mary!" I hissed.

She clamped her hand over her mouth. "Sorry, forgot where I was-" she muttered, her full attention already back on her screen.

I shook my head.

She's so adorable, and she'd kill me if she knew I thought that about her. I wonder what she'd say if I told her.

"Hey Doofus – you getting anything done over there? 'Cause you've been staring at your screen for twenty minutes, but you haven't typed a single thing."

That's what I'd been waiting for – the sign of a thaw.

I leaned back in my chair, lacing my fingers behind my head. "You been watching me, Miss Shannon?"

She snorted. "You're in my direct line of sight – kind of hard not to. I'm starving – let's go to lunch."

I closed my browser window and stood. "Lead the way."

"I told you, didn't I, that my brother and his wife just had a baby – Faith? She's so precious – six weeks old – you're going to just eat her up! And then my cousin Meg-"

"Abby-"

"She will be talking non-stop about her new boyfriend Angelo. Our birthdays are only a week apart, so we're like sisters than-"

"Abigail!"

She stopped mid-sentence, one arm in her coat, and looked at me, her eyes wide. "Marshall, what is it?"

I licked my lips. I knew I should have said something sooner, but the words hadn't formed before now. I was just glad that we were still at home and not at the airport. I didn't want to say what needed to be said in a public place.

"I'm not going."

"What?"

"I'm not going with you."

Abigail stood frozen in front of me, her suitcases at her feet, for a full minute before a smile broke out on her face. "You're teasing me-"

I slowly shook my head. "I wouldn't joke about this – I'm so sorry, Abby."

"But – but why?"

I raked a hand through my hair, stalling for time. I knew that she would ask this question, and yet I didn't want to answer it. I didn't want to cast blame elsewhere, since it lay entirely with me, yet I knew Abigail wasn't a stupid woman. She had always been jealous of Mary and if I intimated now that I had feelings for someone else, she would know who it was without my saying a word.

"I just think it best if we-"

Tears sprung to Abigail's eyes. "Are you breaking up with me?"

"Yes."

"Now?" she shrieked. "Right now – two hours before our flight – I don't understand – I thought we were heading somewhere serious – I thought you might-"

"I know – and I'm sorry if I misled you."

"Misled me? Fuck you, Marshall Mann." She came close enough to slap me across the face, and I stood there quietly, letting her vent her fury. "What happened? Did Mary talk to you – get her hooks into you somehow?"

"This was my decision, Abigail, not hers. I'm my own man-"

"Ha! You've always been her whipping boy! I hope you enjoy being that for the rest of your life!" She turned to pick up her suitcases. "I'll send for the rest of my things when I get back from Texas next year. Good-bye, Marshall."

My own good-bye was drowned out by the slam of the front door.

I didn't go to work Friday. Everyone thought I had gone to Texas, so I stayed home and iced my swollen cheek, in the hopes that the red handprint would fade.

It was still visible when I knocked on Mary's door late Saturday morning.

"Marshall! What the hell happened to you and why aren't you in Texas?"

"I told Abigail that I couldn't go."

Mary's eyes widened. "And I'm guessing the cheer- she didn't take it well?"

I rubbed my cheek. "No."

"Well, come on in before you freeze your ass off. Norah should be waking up from her morning nap soon-"

"I won't scare her?"

"No – she'll be happy to see you."

Our voices must have woken her up because Norah began to cry as soon as I stepped inside. Mary excused herself and disappeared to take care of her daughter, reappearing after a few minutes with a happy, freshly diapered four-and-a-half-month-old Norah. She plunked the baby in my arms and moved into the kitchen, making us cups of tea as I paced from the kitchen to the living room, making faces and laughing at the baby in my arms.

Mary rolled her eyes as she passed me with steaming cups of tea. "And you thought she'd be scared of you-"

I shrugged my shoulders and continued to play. "It's all about faces and expressions at this age – I don't want her to think 'it's a monster!' just because I have a red handprint on my face."

Mary tilted her head to the side. "It's beginning to fade – though I can definitely tell it's a hand. Come on, sit down, and tell me what happened."

Still holding Norah, I sat next to her on the couch and gave a brief description of my breakup with Abigail.

"That's it?" Mary exclaimed when I finished. "That's all you said? Marshall, you didn't even give her an explanation-"

I frowned. "She didn't give me time – she slapped me and left. She wasn't in the mood to listen to explanations."

She shook her head. "You're hopeless – just like the rest of your gender. Women like – no, need to know why. I need to know why-"

"You do?"

"Well, I mean – I would - if I was in her shoes-"

I shifted Norah to my shoulder. "Don't try to back pedal now, Mary Shannon. Why do you need to know why I broke up with Abigail?"

"Natural curiosity," she grinned and took Norah from my arms. "So, do you have any plans for the rest of the day?"

"Actually, I was wondering if you would let me take you and Norah to get a tree – I notice you don't have one-"

Mary was shaking her head as soon as I got the word 'tree' out of my mouth.

"Why not?"

"I'm not big into the whole decorating stuff – you know that. I don't have anything around here to put on a tree and – it's already Christmas Eve-"

"Mary," I spoke softly, trying not to spook her. "You can buy a pre-decorated one – with ornaments and everything – come on, it's Norah's first Christmas-"

"And she's too little to remember it!"

"But you're not – you will always remember her first Christmas."

She buried her face in Norah's neck, inhaling her baby scent. "You don't play fair."

"I know," I grinned. "Shall we?"

Our tree outing was a huge success. I had a friend named Jonah that owned a tree farm a few miles outside of the city limits, and I knew that he still had a few small trees available, along with lights and ornaments. An hour later, we were back at Mary's with a three-foot Douglas Fir, a tree stand, lights, and two boxes of small ornaments. Norah watched from her play pen until exhaustion overcame her and then she slept while Mary and I finished trimming the tree. After I placed a silver star on top and plugged in the lights, we stood back to admire the full effect.

I slung an arm around Mary's shoulders and leaned down to whisper in her ear: "Are you ready to sing?"

"Excuse me?"

"You know, 'I'm right, you're wrong'-"

She elbowed me in the stomach. "Stop it!"

"'that is why I sing this song-"

"Marshall! I'm warning you-"

"Hey-" I squirmed as her fingers began to tickle my ribs. "Now who's not playing fair."

"Are you crying uncle?"

I turned in her grasp and pinned her arms to her sides, her eyes going wide as she settled in my hold. I looked up and she followed my gaze, her mouth opening in a silent 'o' as she spied the mistletoe I had hung without her knowledge.

"Where did that come from?"

"Jonah threw it in for free- thought we could put it to good use-"

"He thought we could put a poisonous plant to good use-"

"Only the berries are poisonous – the leaves only cause nausea and diarrhea if consumed."

"Only! Marshall, I have an infant! I don't want Norah munching on mistletoe-"

I chuckled. "I don't think she's likely to climb the walls to reach it, do you?"

She huffed. "If it falls and she-"

I rubbed my hands up and down her arms soothingly. "She won't. I would never let anything happen to Norah – or you."

Her eyes darted to my hands and back to my face. "What are you doing?"

"Showing you how I feel."

I felt her tremble underneath my hands. "You don't do that-"

"I do now-"

I leaned down and captured her soft lips with my own. For a few seconds, I felt her respond, as she moaned and leaned into me before her hands came up and shoved me away– hard.

It wasn't a slap across the face – but it still felt like a gut punch, nevertheless.

"What the fuck was that, Marshall?"

Mary stood a few feet away from me now, her eyes blazing fire, her chest heaving.

"You have a child, Mary – do I really need to explain how kissing works to you?" I kept my voice soft and low as I took a step towards her.

"Don't be a smart ass! I want you to explain yourself – you're barely ten minutes out of a relationship and here you are kissing me underneath – is that it? Are you going to blame it on the mistletoe?"

I shook my head. "No, Mary. I didn't need the mistletoe. I was going to kiss you today with or without it."

"But – why? Why today?"

"At my party you asked me what was wrong, remember?"

I waited for her to nod before I continued.

"I realized that my life was wrong – I was about to settle in order to fulfill a lifelong goal at the cost of my happiness-"

Mary's eyes had lost their anger and now were filled with confusion. "Marshall, I don't understand, you're not making any sense."

"I know, come on, let's sit down. I'll try and explain it to you."

I crossed to the couch and sat down and though she eyed me warily, she came and perched at the opposite end.

I chuckled. "Mer, relax. I'm not going to make a move on you – I just want to talk."

She sighed and relaxed into the cushions, folding her legs underneath her.

"I know you think I had a Norman Rockefeller childhood – especially around the holidays – and even though I didn't have a blackout drunk for a mother or a bank robber for a father, my parents weren't saints. You've met Seth – you both are type A personalities, driven by work. But there is one main difference between the two of you – family is just as important to you as it is to me – that was never the case for my dad. He was never home for my birthday and rarely if ever home for the holidays."

"We've talked about this before - your father would never win father of the year, Marshall, but I don't see what that has to do with-"

"I made a vow – call it a goal – the Christmas I was sixteen. I told my mom that when I grew up, I was going to be the best US Marshal and the best father, way better than my dad. I was always going to be there for my kids and home for the holidays."

Mary looked shocked. "Marshall – that's crazy. You can't hold yourself to some – irrational deal you made with yourself when you were sixteen! You're a grown ass man now – forty years old-"

"Exactly! That's the realization I came to at my birthday party – I'm forty years old – and for the first time in my life, I'm in a serious relationship that could lead to marriage and family. But I started thinking – was I in love with Abigail? Did I want to marry her, or did I want to propose strictly because time is running out and she could be my one and only chance to fulfill this childhood vow?"

She groaned. "Don't tell me you broke up with your girlfriend because of some crazy ideal-"

"No- that's what I realized and what I came over here to tell you. I broke up with Abigail because I love you, Mary. I always have."

She blinked at me in surprise before standing up and pointing to the front door. "Get out."

"What?"

"I said get out."

"Mary, didn't you hear what I said?"

"I heard you – and I think you've lost your mind! You come over here with some crazy childhood story about wanting a family of your own – about wanting to be a better father than yours was to you – and since things didn't work out with the cheerleader you look around for another option and see that your old pal Mary is still single. Did you think to yourself: 'Oh, my partner Mary, she already has a kid – that's perfect. I just need to add myself. It's like a drink mix: just add water, instant family!'"

My mouth fell open in disbelief. "That's not how it was at all – Mary, I love-"

"Norah and I aren't going to be your guinea pigs, Marshall." Mary opened the front door and motioned with her head as she repeated, "I said – get – out."

Startled by her raised voice, Norah woke up and began to cry. I moved in the direction of the playpen, but Mary's voice stopped me.

"Marshall, please. Just go."

Apparently, I was batting zero in the communication department with the women in my life. Once again, I felt like that awkward, tongue-tied teenage boy who couldn't make any headway with girls when it came to matters of the heart. This was why I hadn't talked to Mary about my feelings for her sooner. Well, that and the simple fact that I feared she didn't return my feelings.

When my phone rang shortly after midnight, I hoped it was Mary calling to talk to me but in reality, it was the last person I expected.

"Merry Christmas, Son."

"Merry Christmas, Dad. Where are you?"

There was a pause and then some garbled words came over the line.

"I didn't get that – you aren't coming through – can you repeat it?"

"I'm in Alaska somewhere – way up North, close to the border by Russia, I think."

"No wonder the signal's coming in and out!" I chuckled. "Is your fugitive giving you a merry chase?"

Seth groaned at my pun. "Don't you worry, we'll catch him. So, how's that girlfriend of yours doing – what's her name – Annie?"

"It's Abigail, and actually, we broke up a couple of days ago."

"Oh, that's uh – too bad. Was it amicable?"

I rubbed my sore cheek. "Not really – but it needed to be done."

"I see. And how's Mary?"

"Sure, her name you remember," I muttered.

"What was that?"

"Nothing, she's fine – busy with her baby girl Norah, and work."

"How old is Norah now?"

"Four and a half months."

"Hmm, still pretty little. Tough age – tough to leave her and go to work."

"You would know."

"Something eatin' you tonight, boy?"

"Just – it seemed easy enough for you to leave all us boys with mom and go off to work."

There was a long pause before Seth replied. "It wasn't easy, Marshall, but it was necessary. I was providing for all of you – money for food, school, and clothes. Your mom and I – we fought about my job often, you know that."

"I know. Did you ever think about doing something else in the Marshal service while we were growing up? Something to keep you closer to home?"

Seth sighed. "You're too young to remember, but right after you were born, your mother begged me to stay home so I transferred to Santa Fe and worked out of the courthouse for the first three years of your life-"

"I don't remember that-"

"I know you don't – you were too little. I was miserable and I made you and your mother miserable. I had to go back to the FTF – it's in my blood, just like WitSec is in yours."

"I never thought I'd hear you say that," I whispered.

"I'm sorry it's taken me so long to say this but - you're a damn good Marshal, son."

"Thanks, Dad."

"Now, what are you going to do about Mary?"

"Excuse me?"

"Don't play dumb with me. You've been in love with her for years-"

I sighed. "I told her how I felt tonight."

"And?"

"It didn't go well."

"So, you just going to give up?"

"I don't know what else to do-"

"Son, how long have you known this woman?"

"Eight years."

"In the beginning, did she think you'd work out as partners?"

"Hell no!" I laughed. "It took a lot of arm twisting and waiting her out."

"My advice is to do the same thing now as you did back then."

"What – twist her arm?"

"If necessary."

"Dad!"

"Listen, you keep telling me that Mary is a lot like me – stubborn, one-track mind about work, hard nut to crack – am I right?"

"Yes."

"But from what I observed when I was there, she's got a soft spot for you, and she's got her own baggage to deal with. Just be there for her, Son. That's what I tried to do with your mom, God rest her soul."

I swallowed as the emotion threatened to overwhelm me. Mom had only been gone a couple of years but sometimes, it still felt like yesterday. I wish I had her to talk to about matters of the heart, but this conversation with Dad had turned out to be one of the best we'd ever had.

"Thanks, Dad. Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas, Son."

I don't know how I did it, but I somehow managed to wait until midafternoon before driving back over to Mary's house, giving her a full twenty-four hours to mull over our kiss and the aftermath.

Her body was tense, her eyes red-rimmed, and her facial expression wary as she opened the door and crossed her arms, barring the way into the house.

"Is Norah-" I started but Mary shook her head.

"She's sleeping."

"That's good – I mean, I didn't want to interrupt any plans the two of you might have for Christmas Day. I just wanted to tell you something and then I'll go-"

"Marshall-"

I held up my hand. "No, Mary, please. Let me say this and then I'll leave you and we'll never talk about this again if that's what you want. I know you're afraid that what happened yesterday was some sort of rebound from Abigail or my attempt to keep a silly childhood vow, but I assure you, neither of those is true. You, Mary Shannon, are the woman that I have been in love with for more years than I can count-"

"Try," she whispered.

I grinned. "All right. When we met eight years ago and I introduced myself, you echoed, 'Marshal Marshall Mann?'. You had this endearing little sneer on your face – though most of the people in the room would have called it condescending. Though it didn't start as love, our relationship began with respect, grew to partnership, then friendship, and by the time you let me see your soft spot for a scared little boy named Leo, I was head over heels in love with you."

Mary's arms uncrossed, and one hand clutched the doorframe, though her eyes still weren't meeting mine.

"Years passed, we worked side by side, and I didn't think we could ever be together – not like that, so when I met her, I settled for Abigail because she was safe, and she adored me – her attention flattered my pride and my ego. Being with her was easy and uncomplicated. But she wasn't you- no matter how hard I tried, I wasn't in love with her. And that wasn't fair to Abigail – so I ended it."

I decided to take a risk and so I slowly reached out and captured the hand that wasn't holding onto the doorframe. I squeezed her fingers, and she squeezed back. "I could have waited a few days, or weeks, before kissing you and telling you how I felt. And I could have done a better job of it – but I got impatient. I just wanted you to know how much I love you – and Norah. I love that little girl so much."

"Marshall-" she choked out my name, finally raising her face to mine. "We're not – you want a family of your own– we're not your problem – or your responsibility. Norah and I aren't your family."

My heart nearly stopped at her words. I dropped her hand and stepped forward into her space to cup her face. "You have always been my family, Mary Shannon, do you hear me? From the moment we became partners, you became family. And Norah is my goddaughter – of course, she is my family." I pressed a kiss to her forehead. "Now, I know I scared you yesterday – and I'm probably scaring you again laying out all my feelings like this – it's all happened rather fast. I want you to know that I'm not going anywhere. You take as much time to think about this – about us – as you need. I'll be here. After all," I waggled my eyebrows at her, "You know where I work – and live."

Then I gave her one last kiss on the forehead and walked back to my truck, whistling 'I'll be home for Christmas'.

Shortly after St Patrick's Day, Mary marched up to my desk and asked me on a date, to which I happily agreed and asked if Norah would be joining us.

"No, Doofus, she would cramp my style and prevent me from obtaining my goal-"

"The goal being-"

"To see whether or not I want a second date."

"Ah."

Norah joined us for our third date, quite by accident, as all her babysitters cancelled. Mary met me at the door in a panic when I arrived to pick her up.

"I can't go out tonight – Norah-"

"What about Norah? Is she sick?"

"No – my sitters all cancelled. Sometimes being a mother sucks."

"Is that all?" I laughed as I strode past her into the house, taking off my long coat and draping it over the sofa. "We can order in – or I can cook, if you have the ingredients for pasta-"

She snorted. "I don't think so – maybe pancakes."

I rubbed my hands together. "Pancakes it is."

On our fifth date, I kissed Mary on the cheek when I dropped her off at home.

She frowned at me.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing – just – Marshall, do you know what I'm usually doing by the fifth date?"

"You date?" I laughed.

She smirked. "Exactly."

And she pulled my mouth down to hers, pulling my body into hers, her fingers curling into the hair at the nape of my neck.

It was on our two-month anniversary, on our tenth date, that she dropped the bombshell over our entrees. I was just taking a sip of Merlot when she asked:

"So, are we going to get married, or what?"

I did a perfect spit take, the burgundy-colored wine showering her blonde hair and the skin showing above her off the shoulder dress. For a moment, neither of us spoke or moved and then she began to giggle. I chuckled and lifted my cloth napkin to blot some of the wine from her skin.

"Sorry, Sunshine."

She grabbed my hand to still the movement. "I'm fine, Marshall. You going to answer me?"

"You were serious?"

She nodded as I dipped a corner of my napkin in my water glass and returned to wiping the sticky wine from her skin.

"Marshall?"

"Hmm?"

"Have you changed your mind?"

My eyes flew to hers, and I saw doubt there for the first time. I lifted my hand and cupped her cheek. "No, Mary. I just want you to be ready – I've been ready for a while now."

"Then are you going to marry me, or what?"

I leaned across the table, breathing the words against her lips. "I think I will."

We were married on the 4th of July, and Norah was our flower girl. Mary had planned for Brandi to pull her in a wagon, but Norah was an early walker despite being a preemie, so our daughter ended up walking down the aisle holding her aunt's hand instead.

Mark stunned all of us by signing away his parental rights a month after our wedding.

"Are you sure about this?" Mary asked him when he came to the house with the papers. "You can't take it back once it's done."

Mark nodded. "I've got a job opportunity overseas, in Japan. I'm going to be gone for a couple of years – maybe more. You and Marshall can give Norah a good home. Just maybe – one day – tell her about me?"

I placed my hand on his shoulder, squeezing it in reassurance. "We will."

Mary shocked me again on our first anniversary when she told me she was going to get her IUD removed.

"But you told me you'd never go through that, and I quote 'fucking living hell again' – referring to the joy that is childbirth," I chuckled as I held her in our bed.

She sighed and rested her head on my chest. "You've changed my mind."

"About having more children?"

She nodded.

I groaned as my heart soared with emotion for the woman in my arms. "Mary."

She surged upwards and kissed me, pressing her body to mine. "I love you so damn much, Marshall Mann. I think I'd give you six kids if you wanted them-"

"But I don't – well, maybe not six – hell, Mary! I don't want more kids– not if you don't. You and Norah, that's all I need."

"You mean you're happy with your 'just add water and instant family'?"

"Mary – I thought we moved past this-"

She laughed. "We have, babe. I just love to tease you once and a while. Don't you want to make a baby with me?"

I rolled her beneath me. "Of course, I do."

"Then let's practice-"

Jonah was born on my birthday, one day before Mary's actual due date. We named him after my friend who owned the Christmas tree farm and gave me the mistletoe – we had hotly debated names and couldn't agree on any until Jonah came up in the discussion.

"It really is the perfect name."

"Well," I grinned. "We could have named him mistletoe."

"Don't be a smart ass." Mary slugged me on the shoulder as we leaned over the bassinet and watched our newborn son sleep.

Christmas Eve 2014

"Are you serious? This is it? Mr. Marshall – I don't know if you're aware of this – but I lived in a mansion – and this is a far cry from-"

I counted to ten in my head before I answered. "Mrs. Kitchen-"

"It's Kl-"

"Not anymore-" I held up a hand and interrupted her. "From here on your name is Mrs. Sarah Kitchen – see, your new driver's license and credit cards are right here."

The petite woman in front of me sniffled.

"Look, I know that it's a lot to get used to – and tonight is Christmas Eve. Take tonight and tomorrow to settle in. My partner stocked the fridge and there are some homemade holiday treats from my other co-workers. I'll be back to check on you the day after Christmas."

Sarah's weathered hands sank into my forearm. "Wait, you're not leaving, are you? I mean, do you have to?"

I looked down at the older woman and felt pity for her. The journey from Chicago had been a long one, with the plane having been delayed for several hours due to snow and ice in the windy city. I feared that I wouldn't make it home before Christmas afternoon, but here I was, back in Albuquerque, at the safehouse, trying desperately to escape my latest witness and make it home to my family.

I glanced at my wristwatch and saw that it was nearly midnight. "I can stay for about an hour, but then I really do need to get home."

Sarah Kitchen's shoulders sagged as her grip relaxed. "I'm being selfish- you have your own family to get home to, I suppose," she pointed at my ring finger. "A wife?"

I nodded.

"Would you – that is, if I put on a pot of tea, could you tell me about them – Frank and I never had children of our own. I promise not to keep you long, young man."

I knew I shouldn't – after all, we needed to keep our private lives separate from work, especially since I had married a fellow inspector. Our witnesses had no idea that Mary and I were married. She wore her ring on a long chain around her neck, hidden beneath her shirts while we were working, but she had insisted that I wear mine.

"Why?" I questioned when she slipped my ring on my finger before we left the house that first morning after our marriage on our way to the office.

"Because I want everyone to know you are taken."

I groaned. "Women don't fall at my feet like the men fall at yours, Mrs. Mann."

She smacked my ass. "I only have eyes for you – and you're too humble, my husband. The women have always been after you."

I smiled at the memory as I watched Mrs. Kitchen putter around her new surroundings, putting a few cookies on a plate and pouring hot water over tea bags. Mary had nothing to worry about with this witness – Mrs. Kitchen was sixty-five, and entering WitSec as a fresh widow, grieving over the recent loss of her husband Frank.

"Sugar for your tea, Mr. Mann?"

I sighed. It was Christmas Eve, after all. I could stay for a bit before heading home.

I pulled my GMC truck into the drive and turned off the engine, looking at the lights of our Christmas tree shining through the front window. Unlike the tree from three years ago, this Douglas Fir was nearly seven feet tall and once in its stand, Norah had sat on my shoulders to place the silver star on the top. Mary had supervised most of the decorating this year while trying to keep our one-year-old son Jonah from ripping the ornaments off the tree as fast as Norah and I hung them up.

No lights hung on the outside of the house, but Norah and I had made a festive sign that read: 'Santa Claus stop here!' and decorated it with lights and candy canes. I knew that as the kids got older our decorations would spill to the outdoors and Mary wouldn't be able to contain our Christmas spirit. She still refused to wear any holiday outfits, but she was wearing red and other jewel-colored sweaters during the season. Her demeanor around witnesses hadn't changed much since our marriage, but around our children she became lighter and the cares of the dark world we lived in fell away.

I heard a tapping on the glass, and I looked to see Mary standing outside the truck, a mischievous smile on her face. I flushed with embarrassment as I opened the door and got out, her arms wrapping me up in an embrace.

"Merry Christmas, Mr. Mann," she purred in my ear. "How long were you going to sit out here in the dark and the cold?"

I shrugged. "I was lost in thought-"

She pulled back to smile up into my face. "Anything in particular?"

"You – me – us – the kids-"

"Good things then."

"Of course, Mrs. Mann, it's Christmas."

"Yes, it is, and look what I have-"she reached into a pocket of her oversized sweater and pulled something out.

I squinted in the dim light being cast from the porch. "Is that – mistletoe?"

"Yup. Kiss me."

I wrapped my arms around her tight, lifting her up off her toes. "You know, we're married now – I don't need mistletoe to kiss you-"

"And yet, you're still talking and not-"

My cold lips covered hers and a thrill went through me as I felt her shiver as she drew her body flush against mine. I pulled back enough to whisper, "We should go inside before we give the neighbors a show-"

"It's nothing they haven't seen before."

"Ma-ry."

She laughed and grabbed my hand, leading me into the dark house, lit only by tree light. I shed my coat and together we checked first on Norah and then Jonah, before returning to the front room and the tree with a mountain of presents beneath it. Mary pushed me down onto the couch and I looked around, seeing that she had set out cocoa, snacks, and several blankets to snuggle with.

"You've been waiting for me."

"You took your sweet time coming home-"

"I'm sorry, love. Mrs. Kitchen needed a bit of hand holding-"

"Hmm," Mary murmured as she straddled my lap and began undoing my shirt buttons. "Do I need to be jealous."

"She's sixty-five, Mer."

"Doesn't matter – all the ladies want my man – or they would if they could see what you hide under your suit." She undid the last button and trailed a line of wet kisses starting from my neck down to my navel.

I grabbed her wrists and stopped her before she opened my slacks. "Mary – what are you-" my heart was racing, and my tongue was tied as all the blood was rushing south.

Mary tossed her sweater over her head, and I gulped when I saw that she wore nothing beneath. "Love me, Marshall."

I ran my hands up her bare sides. "Here?"

She nodded. "Right here, under our tree."

I was startled awake by the sound of Jonah's cry.

I looked around, a bit disoriented, since I wasn't in bed, and I was terribly stiff. Mary wasn't next to me, but the blankets were still warm, so I knew she hadn't been gone long. I remembered coming home, checking on the kids and then – ah yes, making love under the tree. I rolled to the side and located my boxers, slipping them on, knowing that even though it was early, Norah would soon be making an appearance and I needed to be somewhat dressed. I had just slipped my undershirt over my head when I heard the pitter patter of little footsteps in the hall, and I looked up to see a sleepy Norah standing in front of me.

"Merry Christmas, ladybug!" I cried, opening my arms.

"Daddy!" Norah screamed, throwing herself into my lap. "Home! You home!"

I kissed the top of her head. "Yes! I missed you so much!"

She pointed to the tree. "Presents!"

"Ah! Breakfast first – where's mommy?"

"I'm here –" Mary appeared, holding Jonah who squirmed in her arms as soon as he saw me. She set him down and he toddled on unsteady feet to me.

"Da da da da!" he babbled.

"There's my boy!" I exclaimed, lifting him in the air and blowing raspberries on his tummy.

Jonah squealed.

"Norah hungry!"

"Eat!" Jonah nodded.

"Well, our kids have your appetite, Mer."

"Don't put this solely on me, Marshall," Mary held up her hands. "I've seen you eat!"

I stood, swinging both kids in the air and marched off to the kitchen. Mary disappeared into the bedroom and returned in a few minutes, dressed for the festive morning activities.

"I can take over if you want to go throw some clothes on."

I frowned. "You sure?"

She swatted my butt. "I'm capable of making a few pancakes-"

Norah shook her head. "Daddy stays. Mommy no cook."

Mary gasped. "You've turned my own daughter against me."

"I plead the fifth."

I got dressed as quickly as possible, but I still smelled something burning as I returned to the kitchen. "What happened?"

Mary flushed as she dumped something in the garbage. "I thought I'd try and fry some bacon – but something must be wrong with the stove because-"

I smiled and stepped into her personal space, gathering her into my arms. "I didn't marry you for your cooking skills."

After breakfast, the kids opened their presents and then played with them until they got bored, which lasted about an hour, and then Jinx picked them up for time with Gigi – she flatly refused to be called 'grandma'. She was too young and hip for that!

Mary and I looked at the disaster of the living room and promptly collapsed on the couch, snuggling in each other's arms.

"I don't know if you've thought about it recently, but that silly childhood vow you made – the one about being a better man than your father – you've achieved it, Marshall Mann."

I looked down at her in surprise. "You think so?"

"I know so. You've somehow managed to find the perfect balance between work and family life – and I'll have you know, very few men find that. Neither of us had that growing up. Norah and Jonah are very lucky to have you as their father-" she captured my hand and placed it over her stomach. "And so is the new little elf that will be joining us in the new year-"

I sat up straight nearly knocking us both off the couch. "Mary – what are – are you saying – we're having another child?"

She nodded eagerly, her eyes filling with tears. I grabbed her upper arms and crushed her to me, kissing her fiercely until we both had to come up for air.

"You know," I grinned. "I seem to recall you saying once upon a time that if you ever had three children, you made Stan, or I promise to shoot you."

"Oh, well," Mary smiled. "I didn't mean three children with you- I meant with some yahoo who didn't know what the hell he was doing –"

"You mean, someone who was never home for the holidays?"

She leaned forward and cupped my face, dropping a wet kiss on my lips, before pulling away to meet my eyes.

"Exactly."