"I won't ask for much this Christmas
I don't even wish for snow
I'm just gonna keep on waiting
Underneath the mistletoe."

Marshall chuckled lightly at the antics of Michael J. Fox onscreen before his eyes were again drawn to Mary's sleeping face. She had drifted off halfway into the second "Back to the Future" movie. Her feet were in his lap and her head was resting on the opposite end of the couch. He sighed as he watched the light from the TV dance across her skin. He couldn't believe he had kissed her, not once but twice, or that she had let him.

True, neither of the kisses had been that of a lover – perhaps that was why Mary hadn't sent him flying across the room. That and the fact that she was probably shocked that he had taken such liberties with her in the first place. Of course, it wasn't the first time he had kissed her. He remembered racing down a hospital corridor, Mary lying pale and still on a gurney, bleeding out, and pressing a kiss to her temple before she was whisked through the emergency room doors.

He could try and justify his actions tonight. She had been hurting and he had simply been offering comfort. Marshall snorted as he ran a hand through his hair. That logic didn't work – he had comforted Mary plenty of times over the years and he had never kissed her before. It was only now that she knew the depth of his feelings for her that he realized he had nothing to lose. Perhaps it was time to slowly push the envelope and see what happened – then he would know once and for all.

His thoughts were interrupted by the vibrating of Mary's cell on the coffee table. Seeing that it was Brandi, he answered.

"Hey, Brandi, it's Marshall. Everything ok?" he whispered.

"Marshall, why are you answering Mary's phone?"

"I stayed over to watch movies."

"Oh, I see. Can I talk to her? I've got exciting news!"

Marshall smiled. "She fell asleep-" he broke off as he saw her stir. "Hang on, Brandi."

Mary blinked and looked around sleepily. "Marshall, who are you talking to?"

"Brandi's on the phone for you. She says she has exciting news," he held out the phone, his eyes meeting hers.

She took the phone, their fingertips brushing in the transfer. Keeping her eyes on his, she said, "Squish?"

He could hear Brandi's excited voice and couldn't help but smile when Mary winced and held the phone away from her ear. He watched her listen, nod, and finally say, "I'm really happy for you, Squish."

Marshall squeezed her knee in approval and stood to clear up the remains of dinner. He kept one ear on Mary's side of the conversation as he moved between the living room and kitchen, removing the pizza boxes and putting their dirty dishes in the sink. When he rejoined Mary on the couch a few minutes later, he found her staring into space, holding her cell phone limply in one hand. He reached over and took it from her, setting the phone back on the table.

"I've never heard Squish sound so happy before, string bean," Mary whispered.

Marshall's heart ached at the longing he heard in her voice as he reached over and took her hand. "A woman is supposed to sound that way when she gets engaged to the man she loves."

Mary swung her head to look at him, her eyes empty. "Did I sound like that – when I told you I was engaged to Raph?"

He sighed. "Mer-"

"Did I?" she insisted.

"That was different – I forced the information out of you, so you sounded defiant, even petulant."

She bristled. "You make me sound like a child!"

He sighed again, deeper this time, and released her hand. "Are you trying to pick a fight with me, Mer? I thought we had already established that you weren't in love with Raph – that's why you broke off the engagement."

"I didn't break it off – he did!"

Marshall reared back from her, shocked. "So, you still want to marry him?"

"I – no, no I don't." She stood up and began to pace. "Why are we talking about this?"

He threw up his hands. "I have no idea – I thought we were talking about Brandi and how happy she is with Peter."

"And how you thought I wasn't happy with Raph!" she stopped and pointed a finger at him.

He stood and reached for his scarf, wrapping it around his neck. "I never said that."

"Where are you going? You can't just walk out when I'm talking to you!" Mary stepped into his path, blocking his way to the door.

Marshall put his hands gently on her shoulders and looked into her eyes. "Mer, you're not talking, you're arguing. You're itching for a fight because you're lonely and wondering if you're ever going to find happiness like your sister has."

Fire blazed in Mary's eyes and she knocked his hands off her shoulders. "I have never needed a man to make me happy!"

She was rocked back on her heels when cobalt fire blazed at her from his eyes. "Heaven forbid you need anyone, Mary Shannon, because-" He broke off, his chest heaving, his breath hot and heavy in her face.

"Because what?" she demanded.

"Damn it, Mer! I will not travel down this road with you tonight. Get a good night's sleep and things will look better in the morning." He shrugged his coat on over his shoulders and stepped around her.

"Marshall, I-"

Mary's voice had lost most of the anger and he knew if he turned back around now, he wouldn't leave.

He might even sweep her into his arms and kiss her the way a lover would.

But neither of them was ready for that so he merely opened the front door and stepped into the crisp New Mexico night.

Mary didn't sleep well that night.

Her brain kept churning the events of the afternoon and evening for hours, wondering where she had gone so off track with Marshall. The simple fact of the matter had been when she had opened her back door and seen Marshall and Brandi sipping tea in her kitchen, the two of them all cozy, she had been jealous. She had Peter, why did she have to monopolize her partner's time as well?

Marshall had taken the afternoon off to help Squish make the potato pancakes and so Mary had had the afternoon to herself, which had left her with too much time on her hands to think about the events of the day. Peter had taken her completely by surprise when he had told her of his plans and asked for permission to marry her sister. But after the surprise and shock had worn off, there was a layer of loss that she had not expected to feel. It wasn't until she was lying in bed, in the dark alone, that she couldn't run away from her feelings and had to analyze them.

Mary had bathed, clothed, and fed her sister since she was a tiny baby - since Jinx was either out at the bars or passed out on the floor at home. And when Brandi had been old enough to go with her to school, Mary had watched over her with a fierceness of a mama bear protecting its cub. Brandi had needed plenty of looking after as she fell in with the cool kids and was easily influenced into the drug scene as she entered middle school.

Mary had tried to break free of her family by running away and marrying Mark – and then years later by moving across the country and joining WitSec. But for all her efforts and complaints about her family – she couldn't stop looking after them, helping them - especially Brandi, her baby sister, her Squish. And now Mary was supposed to hand over her sister's care to another? To a man? Mary snorted and punched her pillow. Brandi didn't even remember her father. Would Peter also disappoint her in the end?

Mary fell into a restless sleep around four o'clock, only to have a nightmare about the day Marshall got shot. As she fell on her knees beside him, begging him to stay with her because she needed him, he looked up at her.

"Why? You don't need anyone, Mary Shannon." He shuddered and died in her arms.

Mary woke up in her bed, gasping and shaking lightly with cold. Glancing at the clock, she saw that it was now five in the morning. She knew that Marshall went running every morning at five-thirty; knowing that sleep was a lost cause, she got up and stumbled into the bathroom for a shower.

She let herself into his house with her key, balancing the breakfast she had brought in one hand. As she stepped into the living room and saw the decorations, she smiled. He kept them to a minimum around the office for her sake and the witnesses who weren't religious, but his house looked like a Christmas showroom. She fingered some of the ornaments on his tree, smiling at the homemade ones from his nieces and nephews. I wonder if Brandi still has some ornaments from that Christmas she was telling Marshall about.

Her inner musings were interrupted by the sound of the front door slamming, and she turned to see Marshall standing behind her, wearing a sweat suit and slowly removing the ear buds from his iPod.

"Are you adding breaking and entering to your record now?" he asked.

She snorted. "It's not breaking and entering when you have a key, Marshall."

"I gave you that key for emergencies only, Mer."

She swallowed; he sounded so serious and distant this morning. Was he still upset with her?

"I brought coffee and doughnuts," she offered.

He arched an eyebrow. "Is this an apology?"

"For what?"

"For trying to pick a fight with me last night."

She rolled her eyes. "We've had worse fights than that before, Marshall – and no, this isn't an apology. Can't one co-worker treat another co-worker to a complicated coffee beverage and a cheese Danish without you thinking I've got an ulterior motive?"

His lips quirked as he fought off a smile. Perhaps there's hope for us yet, Mer. He stepped closer to her, watching her eyes widen at his proximity. He noticed the circles under her eyes from a lack of sleep, and a bit of redness that hinted at crying. "Not when that person is you," he whispered words from long ago, wondering if she would remember, "You're not a treater, Mer. It's not a criticism, just an observation."

Mary flinched in response and Marshall had confirmation that something had definitely spooked her – something that had resulted in her making this sweet gesture and showing up at his house at sunrise.

"Marshall, are you mad at me?"

This time he couldn't hide the surprise in his voice as he said, "No – I'm just wondering what you're doing here at seven o'clock in the morning when we don't have a witness situation."

She sighed. "I didn't like the way we left things last night."

"So this is an apology," he grinned.

She huffed. "It's not – I haven't apologized for every silly little disagreement we've had over the years and I'm not about to start now." She pulled his coffee from the carrier and held it out to him. "Now, are you going to drink this damn pumpkin spiced latte and reimburse me for the four bucks I spent on it or not?"

Marshall closed the distance between them, wrapping his fingers around hers on the cup. Leaning in close, he brushed his lips against hers in a feather light kiss.

Mary felt her lips following his, wanting more as he pulled away and took a sip of his latte.

She blinked in confusion. "What was – why the hell did you do that?"

He smirked and pointed up. "We're standing under the mistletoe. Merry Christmas."

She glanced up, and seeing a sprig of the plant hanging from the ceiling, she smacked him on the shoulder and stomped into the kitchen.

"Apology accepted," Marshall whispered, taking another sip of latte, hoping the taste would quench his thirst for more of Mary's kisses.

Mary returned from making the rounds of visiting her witnesses to see Charlie hunched over Marshall's desk, whispering to her partner, who was clutching something in his hand. She crept up behind the freshman inspector and listened.

"I can't believe you invaded his privacy like that, Charlie! You have to put it back before he realizes it's gone," Marshall whispered.

"But I had to get some idea of what to get the chief for his secret Santa present – I really want to cheer him up. So I just thought I'd look around while he was at his lunch meeting. I never thought I'd find-"

Mary still couldn't see what was in Marshall's hand and so she decided it was time to find out what had the boys so excited.

"What are you two girls whispering about?" she asked from behind Charlie.

Both men jumped and the object in Marshall's hand went flying. It fell to the floor with a soft clink and slid under Marshall's desk. To her amusement, both men dove underneath the piece of furniture to look for it.

"Is this what you're looking for?" Mary asked, and tried to hold her surprise in check as she picked up the diamond and ruby engagement ring from the other side of Marshall's desk. "I always knew you would ask him one day, Charlie, but I don't think you're Marshall's type."

Charlie flushed a deep red as Marshall gave one of his short, dry laughs. "Funny, Mer, but Charlie found the ring in Stan's desk."

Mary's astonished gaze flew from the beautiful ring in her fingertips to her partner's smug expression. "Oh no, Gidget. This does not prove you were right in your conspiracy theories."

Marshall crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair. "Read the inscription, Mer."

Charlie darted to Mary's side. "There's an inscription?"

She held the ring towards the light and read aloud: "E: all my love, S 12-25-09." Closing her fingers around the ring, she felt her heart clench. Whirling on Charlie, she dropped the ring in his hand and shoved him towards Stan's office. "Put it back – now!"

Charlie staggered backwards from the emotion in her voice as much as from the physical push. "But what do I-"

"Put it back exactly where you found it – NOW!" she ordered.

Charlie bobbed his head nervously and ran into the chief's office, shutting the door behind him. Mary collapsed into the chair on the other side of Marshall's desk.

"Oh my God, Stan has an engagement ring in his desk – with last year's date and the initial 'E'," she breathed. She looked up at Marshall. He had lost the smug look of satisfaction of being proven right; he was looking at her soberly, his heart in his eyes. "How can we help him?"

"I think if he had wanted us to know, if he wanted our help - he would have told us," Marshall said sadly, shrugging.

"It certainly explains his mood the past few weeks – actually ever since she left."

Marshall nodded. "I knew they had a relationship but I never thought they were that serious."

"Stan and Eleanor?" Mary said, her voice holding plenty of disbelief.

"Why is it so hard for you to see them as a couple? I think they would be great together."

She shuddered. "Please, Marshall. I don't want those images in my head."

He chuckled and shook his head. "There you go again, taking it to a dirty place."

Charlie joined them again, slightly out of breath and pale. "I made double sure that it is exactly where I found it. He'll never know it was moved."

"He better not, kid, or your ass is so fired," Mary said.

Marshall glared at her before swinging his gaze back to Charlie, who looked even paler. "Don't mind her, Charlie. She just likes to have someone else in trouble – it takes the heat off her."

"Hey!" She kicked him under the desk, but he dodged the attempt with a laugh. She went off to fill her coffee mug and Charlie sat down in the chair.

"Um, listen. You wouldn't happen to have her email, would you?" the young inspector fidgeted nervously.

Marshall was already back to work and he was only half listening to Charlie as he typed. "Whose email?

"This Eleanor that the boss is still in love with."

Marshall's fingers stilled over the keys and his eyes swung back to Charlie's eager beaver face. "Leave it alone, Charlie."

"But what could it hurt if I just emailed her and told her that I found the ring and that the Chief's still in love with her? I could ask her to come back and surprise him for Christmas – think what a great secret Santa gift that would be!" Charlie's eyes were shining like a five-year-old boy's.

"What could it hurt?" Marshall mockingly repeated. "Charlie, the man is heartbroken. He's holding onto that ring and his memories of love lost – let's not make it worse for him, ok?"

"But what if we could reunite them? It's Christmas – don't you believe in miracles?"

Marshall bit his tongue on the sarcastic answer that rose to his lips and his eyes were caught by Mary as she crossed the floor with her steaming mug of coffee. For the first time, he noticed that she had worn a red sweater with a matching red hair band; it was as festive as Mary Shannon got during the holidays. She gave him one of her rare dazzling smiles before groaning and opening a file on her desk.

"Marshall?"

His eyes snapped back to his computer monitor and he said, "I'll send you Eleanor's email, Charlie, but leave me out of it, ok?"

"You're the best! I knew I could count on you."

He groaned and muttered under his breath, "But I'm not going down with your ship if it goes up in flames, mate."

It was really late when Eleanor unlocked her door, fumbled for the light switch, and stumbled into her one bedroom apartment. Light flooded the space and she blinked, looking around wearily as her cat Tiger meowed and came to greet her.

Peeling off gloves, hat, scarf, and coat, Eleanor placed her keys in the bowl on the table by the door and proceeded down the hall to her kitchen. The stew that she had placed in the crock pot early this morning smelled wonderful and she couldn't wait to sit down and dig in. She cut herself a couple thick slices of bread as Tiger purred and rubbed against her ankles, not bothered in the slightest that she still had her snow boots on.

Eleanor sighed. She really hated this time of the year because of all the extra work it created. Everyone in her department was trying to clear their desks of the year's paperwork before leaving the city for the holidays and as a result, more work got dumped in her lap. The job title had sounded so glamorous when she had accepted it nearly a year ago; the added job benefits combined with getting some distance from Albuquerque were too much for her to resist.

Now she longed for New Mexico with every breath she took. She never thought another place could become home, let alone in such a short period of time. But life under the New Mexican sun had been just what she needed to heal from the loss of her beloved husband. She had found a new sparring partner in Mary Shannon – and a friend in Marshall Mann. Both of them were so in love with each other; Eleanor couldn't understand why they weren't together yet. But then life has a funny way of working out sometimes.

As she soaked up the remainder of the stew in her bowl with the last piece of bread, she thought about Stan. If she was honest with herself, he was the one she longed for. It had been silly of her to take Stan's OSU sweatshirt with her when she left – but she had and she wondered if he noticed its loss. She wondered if a year later he noticed her loss. She wondered what he would think if he knew that she slept in that sweatshirt every night, dreaming that it was his arms around her.

Why am I still here? Why don't I go back? I told him I needed time – not that I wanted to end what we had. But I guess that's what he heard since he's with Allison Pierce now.

Eleanor's lip curled as she put her dishes in the sink. The very idea of her Stanley with anyone else made her blood boil and her heart ache. But as the months had passed, their emails had grown less frequent until she wasn't keeping in contact with him at all – and from his point of view he probably thought he was a free man. With these conflicting thoughts and emotions swirling around in her head and heart, Eleanor sat down at her computer to check her email before bed. Tiger jumped in her lap and she absentmindedly began to pet him. She cocked her head in puzzlement at an email from the Albuquerque office – but it wasn't from Stan, Marshall, or Mary. Charlie? Isn't that the new inspector Marshall told me about? Curious, she clicked on the email to open the message.

To: Eleanor Prince

From: Charlie Connor

Hi, you left Albuquerque before we had a chance to meet but my name is Charlie and I'm the new inspector here in the Albuquerque office. I'm afraid this is rather a personal email and I would understand totally if you threw it away and didn't read it – but I hope you don't because it's about the Chief, I mean, Stan.

Eleanor's heart began to beat a little bit faster. Had something happened to Stan? Surely Marshall or Mary would have called her if it was life threatening. She shook her head as her vision blurred. Why would they? No one knew the true nature or depth of their relationship. She took a deep breath and continued.

You see, I drew his name for secret Santa this year.

Eleanor closed her eyes and smiled in relief. Did the kid need gift advice? Was that all? It was a bit strange for him to ask her but she had been the office assistant – perhaps Marshall had said she might know best what Stan would like.

I wanted to get him something really cool, to cheer him up. You see, he's been really down this holiday season. Mary and Marshall say they've never seen him this depressed at Christmastime. So I decided to search around his office when he went to lunch and get some inspiration.

I found the ring.

Eleanor felt like she couldn't breathe. The last four words leapt out at her from the screen and she couldn't stop staring at them. He still had the ring? He was depressed?

He still had her ring?

Tiger hissed and she looked down to see tears hitting his fur. "I'm sorry, baby," she whispered, not knowing if she was apologizing to her cat for the rainstorm or to Stan. If he still had the ring, if he was moody this time of year, perhaps he wasn't with Allison.

I'm so sorry to have invaded Stan's privacy, and yours. I put it back exactly where I found it. But the Chief is miserable and I got to thinking it would be a great Christmas present from his secret Santa if you could come for a visit? Our party is Friday, December 17th at the Andaluz Hotel. He would love to see you – and I would like to meet the lady who captured the chief's heart.

I haven't told anyone I work with that I'm emailing you – well, Marshall gave me your address but he told me to leave him out of it. It will be our secret if you're coming or not – but I hope you do.

Charlie

The tears continued to drip down Eleanor's face and Tiger finally abandoned her lap. She wanted to hit the reply button and tell this kid "thanks, but no thanks." She wanted to hit the reply button and say, "I'll be on the next plane."

The only thing that kept her from doing either was the one question that had kept her from contacting Stan for months: 'I thought you'd moved on – what about Allison?'

And the only person who could answer that question was Stan.

Will Eleanor come home for Christmas? Will Marshall kiss Mary without using mistletoe as an excuse? Reviews are LOVE.