A/N: Hello readers! I love to write IPS Christmas fics! I think I've written one every year since I've been writing fanfic for IPS. I got off work early today and pounded out this one just for all of you - enjoy when all of your festivities die down. M&M will still be here!

December 20, 2013

"I can't believe you did this, Mom."

"Why not? You should have seen her, Sweet Pea! She looked so cute perched there on Santa's lap, looking up at him in wide eyed wonder – and not a single tear! Unlike your first time-"

"Hey-" I protested, as I took a sip of iced tea. "You dragged me there against my will and this stranger in a bright red suit stuck his nose in my face. What was I supposed to do?"

Jinx grimaced. "Not kick him in the stomach?"

I shrugged. "I could have kicked him in the-"

"Mary Elizabeth Shannon!" Jinx darted an anxious glance at my daughter who was oblivious to our conversation and happily smashing peas on her high chair's tray. "Not in front of my princess, please."

I rolled my eyes. "She's sixteen months old, Mom – I don't think she understands the word 'penis' yet."

Jinx groaned and dropped her head into her hands. "You're impossible, you know that? I shudder when I think what her first sentence is going to be."

I grinned and popped another French fry into my mouth to refrain from answering. "Just promise me no one we knew was at the mall to witness this-"

"No, but I got pictures!"

I bit the inside of my check hard enough to taste blood as Jinx pulled out the sheet of glossy photos from her large handbag that can be purchased at every Santa kiosk for an extra fee. Jinx waved the sheet under my nose until I grabbed it and stared at the image of my offspring innocently sitting on Santa's lap wearing-

"Oh Mom – not the tutu. You promised you weren't going to take her out in public wearing them."

"But Mary, it's a Christmas one and she looks so – so – adorable and like a little angel, don't you think?"

I sighed. "Nora has lots of other clothes that are festive."

"You mean red."

"That's a Christmas color."

Jinx shook her head. "You're hopeless this time of year. If Nora didn't have me, your sister, and her father, you'd have the child wearing black."

"Mom! That's not true – am I wearing black right now?"

Jinx looked at me and smiled. "No, in fact that shade of blue looks very nice on you. What's the occasion?"

I gritted my teeth. "Tonight's the office holiday party-"

"And you were coerced into NOT wearing black," Jinx laughed.

I said nothing and turned to my daughter to begin cleaning her up. "No, the boss thought it would be nice if-"

"The boss?" Jinx interrupted me. "Since when do you refer to Marshall as 'your boss' and not by his name?"

"Since he became the boss – he's not my partner anymore, Mom, and in four days he's getting married – or have you forgotten?"

"Me, forget a wedding on Christmas Eve? I don't think so – have you changed your mind about going?"

I frowned as I lifted Nora free of the high chair and cuddled her close for comfort. "I'm still thinking about it. Christmas Eve is busy – our work doesn't take a holiday just because-"

Jinx reached over and touched my arm. "Mary."

"What?" I flinched under the unexpected contact and my voice was suddenly rough.

"It's not too late."

"For what?"

"To tell him how you feel."

I gave her a dumbstruck look before laughing hollowly. "You don't know what you're talking about, Mom. Marshall's the boss now and I'm his employee – nothing more, nothing less."

"But it's Christmas – the time for magic and miracles. It's not too late to ask Santa for what you really want."

This time, my laughter nearly doubled me over. "Are you serious? Santa? Mom, I have never believed in Santa."

"Not even as a little girl?"

The smile slipped from my face. "Especially not then."

Pain crossed Jinx's face. "Oh Mary, I'm so – what my drinking did to you and your sister. If I could go back and change things-"

I shrugged and squeezed my daughter. "It's water under the bridge now, Mom."

(Flashback: December 23, 1981)

"Come on, Squish, the mall is closing and we need to get home before Mom does."

"But Mary – look! Santa is right over there!"

I frowned down at my five year old sister. "So?"

"I need to tell him what I want for Christmas!"

"Brandi-"

"PLEASE, Mer! It doesn't cost anything and there are only a couple of kids in line and how's he going to know what to bring me if I don't tell him?"

I bit my tongue to keep from telling her that Santa had never visited our house and he wasn't likely to start now – that in my opinion, there wasn't any such thing as Santa, just fat men in red suits in malls who tickled children, gave them candy, and made empty promises. I didn't want my little sister's hopes to be crushed when she woke up on Christmas morning and found nothing in her skinny stocking hanging on the wall in our living room. I had been trying for weeks to think of something to put in there but so far I hadn't come up with anything. Maybe Mrs. Jenks had an odd job I could do for some pocket change and I could slip out to buy a little something-

"Mary!"

I was jolted out of my thoughts by Brandi tugging on my hand. "I don't really see how some guy sitting in a mall-"

"Oh, I know he's not the real Santa but he can get a message to the real one, can't he?"

I bit my lip.

"Can't he, Mary?"

Her eyes were shining up at me with hope and innocence and I just couldn't kill it – not when reality did a good enough job. "Yeah, I suppose he could."

"Come on!"

We waited in line for twenty minutes and I secretly hoped the mall would close before Brandi's turn would come but my sister's luck held out and she scooted onto his lap just as Santa's helper closed the gate behind us. I watched their exchange from the foot of the stairs, Brandi whispering eagerly and the fat guy in the suit nodding. I wondered if he was really fat or if it was just padding. Brandi threw her arms around his neck and kissed his cheek as I rolled my eyes. She skipped down the steps clutching her candy cane.

"He said he would, Mary! He said he'd pass my message to Santa and now I know I'll get my wish!"

"That's great, Squish. Come on, we have to go."

"Don't you want to know what it is?" Brandi hopped from one foot to another as I dragged her down the wide corridor.

"Then it won't come true."

"No, Silly! That's only birthday wishes."

I shrugged, only half listening as I weaved in and out of shoppers.

"I told him to tell the real Santa to bring Daddy home for Christmas."

I stopped so fast that Brandi bumped into me from behind. "What did you say?"

"I wished for Daddy to come home for Christmas."

"But – Squish –" I took a deep breath. "That's impossible."

Her face twisted and I knew she was close to crying. "Why?"

"Because it just is! He's gone and he's not coming back."

Brandi ripped her hand out of mine. "You don't know that! And I asked Santa and he said yes! So there."

Fury rose up inside of me. How could a complete stranger make such a promise to a five year old – he didn't know anything about her or me or our situation! I gripped Brandi's shoulders. "I'm sorry, Squish, ok? If Santa said that – I'm sure he'll do his best."

I didn't believe a word of what I was saying but Brandi threw herself into my arms. "I love you, Mary."

I grunted and pulled her over to a nearby bench. "You sit here and eat your candy cane. I, uh, have to do something. I'll be right back – don't move until I come back. If a security guard comes by, tell him you're waiting for your mom who went to the bathroom, OK?"

Brandi nodded and began to unwrap her candy as I turned and ran back the way we had come. The Santa Workshop was empty and my heart dropped until I saw the fat guy sitting at a table off to the side, minus the hat and beard, sipping hot cocoa. I marched up to the table and slipped into the empty seat.

"Sorry, kid, I'm off duty. Come back tomorrow-"

"I'm not here to ask for anything – I'm here to ask how you could promise my little sister you'd bring our dad home for Christmas."

The guy shrugged. "Company policy – we promise you kids whatever you want."

My mouth fell open. "So you lie? And that's OK? What happens when my sister and all the other kids wake up on Christmas morning and their wishes don't come true?"

"It's not my problem. My job is to keep you little brats happy so I can get paid."

The tears were burning my eyes but I refused to let them fall as I stood and kicked him in the knee. "Asshole!"

The hot cocoa splashed his suit as he grabbed his knee in pain. "Security!" he bellowed as I ran.

Brandi was exactly where I left her, her candy cane gone and her fingers and face sticky. "Mary, what's wrong? Your face is all red-"

"I'm fine. You ready to go home?"

She nodded. "Can we make some cookies for Santa?"

"Sure, Squish, whatever you want."

2013

"What's wrong, Partner? Why so scrunchy?"

I grimaced. "Delia, 'scrunchy' is something you put in your hair-"

The perky muffin lady who had been my partner for the past few month now laughed. "Perhaps, but it also describes your face at this moment. Aren't you having any fun?"

"You're kidding, right?" I glanced around the room at the people bunched in small groups, talking in low voices, and the holiday decorations that permeated every inch of the enclosed space. "What about this party is fun?"

"Careful, Inspector," Marshall's voice came from over my right shoulder and I stiffened at his approach. "I don't want to have to give you another order to have a good time like I did with your attire."

I plastered a smile across my face and turned to face him. "That doesn't count – you gave me this sweater as an early Christmas present."

"With express orders to wear it to tonight's festivities."

I tipped my head in acknowledgment. "Where's your lovely bride to be? With your wedding so close, I wouldn't think she'd want you out of her sight."

"Work – two shoppers were fighting over the last iPhone and shots were exchanged."

Delia choked on her eggnog. "Please tell me you're joking."

"Oh no, he's serious," I shook my head. "You've got to love the holidays."

"She'll be here soon – I'm just sorry she's going to miss-"

"HO HO HO – Merry Christmas, everyone!"

"Santa!"

I rolled my eyes. "I think I need more nog."

Marshall followed me as I drifted over to the punchbowl. "No Santa for you?"

I ignored the question and lifted the ladle. "Is there booze in this?"

He shook his head and I grimaced. "Good thing I have some in my desk upstairs."

Marshall placed his hand over the top of my cup. "Is everything OK with you?"

The cup trembled in my grasp. He hadn't asked me such a personal question in months. We just didn't DO personal anymore. Our professional relationship had never been better but our friendship was nonexistent and I couldn't help but see the triumphant gleam in Abigail's eyes she would shoot my way whenever she visited the office. I knew Marshall was hurt that I wasn't coming to the wedding especially when I couldn't give him an explanation. How could I explain that I had realized my feelings for my best friend too late? He deserved his happiness and freedom and I wouldn't keep it from him – not when he truly loved her.

"Mary?"

I gave him a totally fake, reassuring smile. "You know me and the holidays, Marshall. They don't invoke warm, fuzzy feelings. And then today at lunch, my mother sprang the news that she had taken Bug to see Santa – and I guess – well, it just brought up more stuff."

"Such as?"

I shook my head. "I'll be fine – you don't want to hear more dark tales from the childhood of Mary Shannon-"

"Don't do that."

"What?"

"Shut me out."

"You're the one that put this door between us, not me."

He reeled back as if I'd physically punched him. "Mary-"

I set my glass of nog down and backed away. "I should go mingle –"

"Mary!" Delia cried as she clutched my elbow. "There you are – come with me. We're all telling Santa what we want for Christmas, just like when we were little kids."

"Are you nuts?" I protested as she dragged me in the direction of the hired Santa who had been seated in a corner of the room and a jar of candy canes sat on the table beside him. "I'm not going to tell some stranger-"

"Hello, Mary."

I blinked in surprise as the man in the suit addressed me. "How did you know my name?"

He chuckled. "Well, I could say something mysterious, but Delia told me she was going to get you."

I folded my arms across my chest. "So, are you really Santa?"

"What if I said yes?"

"Then I'd call you a liar."

"And if I said no?"

"Then I'd ask why you're pretending to be someone you're not."

"Mary!" Delia gasped.

The man laughed. "It's all right, Delia, I know a skeptic when I see one. You've never believed in Santa, have you?"

"No."

"What about things, people you have believed in?"

My face hardened as my eyes involuntarily slid to Marshall.

The man nodded. "You've had a lot of pain and disappointment in your life, Mary – but that doesn't mean you should stop believing in magic – especially this time of the year."

I snorted. "Does that mean if I tell you what I want, you'll see that I get it?"

Santa shook his head. "No, I'm not God or even the real Santa – if he does in fact exist. If you want something, you need to go after it and not be afraid of what may happen if you don't get it. You'll be OK – you've always been OK."

I stared at him in disbelief. "Who the fuck are you? You don't know anything about me!"

"Mary-" Delia chided gently. "I don't think you can talk to Santa that way-"

"I'll talk to him any way I damn well please! Of all the-"

Suddenly I felt a presence beside me and Marshall was guiding me out of the room, down the hall and into an empty conference room. As soon as the door shut behind us, I whirled on him in a fury. "What the hell, Marshall?"

"I thought you could use a bit of air. You were starting to make a scene, Mer, swearing at Santa like that. What's gotten into you?"

I felt the anger slowly drain out of me. "I – I'm sorry. Did I ruin your party?"

His lips quirked. "No – I got you out of there before your voice carried too far. What did Santa say to you that got you so worked up?"

I stared at Marshall, noticing for the first time that he was standing under mistletoe that some office elf had hung in the conference room. The bad girl inside of me wanted to grab him and kiss him senseless but I was still too sober to forget the fact that he was engaged and committed to another woman. I licked my lips nervously. "Nothing."

Marshall's eyebrows rose into his hairline. "Nothing? You just went postal on Santa without any provocation at all. Somehow I don't think you're giving me the full story. I know Delia dragged you over there to talk about Christmas wishes, which is something you'd never do voluntarily – but he might have been baiting you. Was that it, Mary? Was he saying something derogatory?"

I shook my head and turned away, trying to erase the image of him standing underneath the mistletoe. "Nothing like that."

I heard him take a step towards me. "Then what? He must have said something for as grouchy as you are this time of year you don't just go off for no reason-"

I whirled around to face him. "He told me that if I want something I need to go after it and not be afraid of what happens if I don't get it – all right? Satisfied?"

Marshall stared at me for a moment before whispering, "So what's the problem?"

I cocked my head to the side. "I'm sorry?"

"It sounds like good advice – why don't you take it?"

Oh God, this will change everything. It will completely uproot his world and mine and if he doesn't feel the same I'll have to transfer. I can't stay and work in the same office with him. But will I be able to stay after he's married to her?

"Mary, breathe!"

I felt Marshall's hands on my shoulders as I drew a deep shuddering breath, then another. I looked up to see his blue ones boring into mine with deep concern and- no, I couldn't let myself think he felt anything more for me than friendship. Not yet.

"Talk to me, Mer. What is it you want?"

"You," I breathed the word out so softly that Marshall had to dip his head to catch it.

"What?"

I cleared my throat. "You," I repeated, louder this time.

Marshall's hands fell from my shoulders and he stepped back, his face blank and unreadable. I caught his hands before he could go any further and tried to ignore the fact that his eyes were staring into space and not meeting mine.

"Listen to me, Marshall. That day on the balcony when you asked me to release you – I never," I stopped to clear my throat again. "I never got the chance to thank you for all you had done for me with my father. You had been there with me through the darkest period of my life and it was during that time I realized that I was in love with you. Everything happened so fast, all at once, Dad's death, finding the money, Stan's promotion – I was going to ask you to give us a chance when you asked for your freedom-"

Marshall blinked and focused on my face for the first time since my declaration. "Mary, my wedding is in four days," he groaned aloud. "I love Abigail."

I swallowed. "I know – but have you ever noticed that you've never said that you're in love with her?"

He jerked out of my hold. "That's not fair – of course I – Mary!" he groaned louder. "How can you do this now – NOW! You've had me for years, YEARS! I waited and waited and you pushed me away and now when I'm almost married you decide-"

"Am I too late?"

Marshall grabbed my face and pulled me to him until my lips were an inch from his. "I tried so hard, do you understand? I tried to get you out of my system – I did what she asked and let you go – and I've done your bidding for years – and I'm sick of it, do you hear me?"

My breath caught in my throat. "Marshall? Why don't you do what you want? What is it you want?"

He crashed his lips to mine. And we're not even under the mistletoe. I opened my mouth and he pushed his way inside even as his hands swept down to my hips and pulled me into him. Neither one of us heard the door open but we jumped apart guiltily at the sound of a throat being cleared.

Delia stood in the doorway, a smirk on her face. "Sorry to interrupt, chief, but Abigail just arrived and is looking for you."

"Thanks, Dee, tell her I'll be right out."

Delia nodded and shut the door, leaving us alone once more.

"I think that's my cue to leave."

Marshall grabbed my hand, rubbing the back. "I'll come by later."

I felt my heart beat increase but refused to get my hopes up. Shaking my head, I murmured, "You need to stay and then clean up, talk to Abigail – I mean, that is, if you're going to-" I broke off as I felt the blush rising in my cheeks.

Marshall chuckled as he placed a finger under my chin and tilted it up until our eyes met. "I just have one question for you, Mer. Did you mean it when you said you loved me?"

I saw the doubts in his eyes and it broke my heart. I had put him through so much and if he'd let me, I'd spend the rest of our lives making it up to him. Lifting my hand I brushed back a lock of hair that had fallen over one eye. "I don't say anything I don't mean, Marshall."

He leaned in and brushed a feather light kiss across my lips. "Then wait up for me. I'll see you later. We still have a lot to talk about."

December 23, 2014

"Where's the boss man?"

I turned from the punchbowl to see my partner set down her famous platter of sugar cookies. "He's on hold with ICE – one of the VISA's fell through at the last minute and they're threatening to deport Sanchez back to Mexico-"

Delia gasped. "Two days before Christmas? That's outrageous! Besides, he's lived here with his family for ten years-"

I shrugged and sipped my nog. "I know – but I'm sure if anyone can get things sorted out, it's Marshall."

"You have a lot of faith in me, wife." Arms circled around me from behind and I leaned back into Marshall's arms.

I smiled up into his face. "I always have."

He laughed and locked eyes with Delia. "I see she's suffering some memory loss from that bump on the head she got last week-"

Delia cuffed him on the arm. "Leave her alone, Boss! I've never seen her in such a good mood – and at the holiday party to boot!" She picked up the platter of cookies and moved away.

Marshal swung me around to face him, looking tenderly at the side of my face which was still bruised. "How are you feeling, really? Are you up to this?"

I rolled my eyes. "I'm fine, Dad. Quite hovering."

"Well, if you're sure-" he shrugged and dropped his arms, pretending to move away.

"I didn't say to leave," I grabbed his hand and dragged him over to some chairs. "I have a present for you."

"Here, now?" he grinned at me and I laughed.

"Yes and not that kind – get your mind out of the gutter."

The last year had been amazing. Marshall had called off his wedding to Abigail and even though we had kept things low key between us for a couple of months, everyone knew our relationship status had changed. I'll never know how Marshall got the OK from our bosses but after a simple backyard ceremony in May, he moved in with me and Nora and our life was complete. I still missed having him by my side in the field but coming home to him every night more than made up for it.

I handed him an envelope. "Remember last week when the ER doctor took some blood? Well, they found something."

Marshall's hands were trembling as he opened the envelope and pulled out the picture. "I don't understand," he stammered as he stared at the image.

I bit my lip to keep from laughing. "Come on, hon, you're smart. Tell me what the picture is."

"It's a bun in the oven but what does-" He gasped as the picture fell to the floor. Grabbing my upper arms, he pulled both of us to our feet. "You're pregnant?"

"Surprise! And Merry Christmas!"

He captured my lips in a searing kiss before pulling away to nuzzle my neck. "I love you, Mary Shannon Mann."

"And I love you."

"HO HO HO! Merry Christmas, everyone!"

I pulled away from my husband to focus on the Santa that had just entered the room. "Is that the same guy as last year?"

Marshall nodded. "I thought it might be fun-"

I placed my hand on his chest. "Wait here – I'll be right back."

I pressed my way through the ring of people around Santa. "Hello again."

Santa smiled. "Hello Mary."

I smiled sheepishly. "You remember me?"

"It's hard to forget the ones that swear at you."

"Yeah, sorry about that."

"So – I take it the new year has been good to you?"

My eyes narrowed in suspicion. "How do you know that?"

Santa pointed at my wedding ring.

I laughed. "Yes, I took your advice."

"And I see it turned out well."

I nodded. "Thank you."

Santa shook his head. "You're the one that did it – I just gave you a little nudge."

"No, thank you for restoring my belief in Christmas magic."

Santa smiled. "Merry Christmas, Mary."

"Merry Christmas, Santa."

I made my way back to the chairs and Marshall wrapped his arms around me, his hands cupping my lower abdomen lovingly. "I see I didn't need to break up any altercations between you and Santa this year. What was that all about?"

I leaned back and kissed the tip of his nose. "I was just saying thank you. Who knows, without Santa-" I shrugged.

"Why Mary, are you saying you believe?"

I grinned. "We're here, aren't we?"

He kissed my cheek and whispered, "Yes, Mary, there is a Santa Claus."

I slapped his arm. "Wiseass."

"Does this mean you'll let me dress up as Santa for our kids?"

"Kids?" I repeated. "As in more than one?"

"Well, yeah. Nora and this one," he rubbed my still flat stomach. "And whoever else comes along."

I snorted. "I think you're the one who needs to talk to Santa this year – because that's definitely your wish, not mine."

"Aw, come on, Mary."

I laughed all the way to the dessert table as my husband followed in my wake.

Yes, this year's party was much better than last year's – and next year's would be even better. And who would have ever thought I would have a fat guy in a red suit to thank for that.

A/N: And to all a good night! Happy Holidays - Reviews are LOVE and candy in my stocking!