A/N: This is the end, friends! I honestly cannot thank-you enough for your continued support – for some of you, it has gone on for several years now! Thank-you so much for helping me keep IPS alive!

XXX

Mary had never been more popular. For a girl who had been shunned and ostracized as a child, a teenager, and finally an adult for coming from the wrong side of the tracks – and acting like it – being the center of attention was a lovely alteration. It seemed change wasn't really all bad.

In actuality, she knew it was not really her that was garnering so much consideration – well, maybe some of it – as the real recipient was little Luke Shannon, dark eyes, red hair, and all. But, there was little that could deter Mary's good spirits, especially since those whose opinions really mattered gave her just as much thought as they did her son. It might be another day or so before all the blue-bagged gifts adorned with tissue paper would land on her doorstep, but the words were what Mary carried around in her heart. She would remember the admiration, not to mention the adoration, forever.

Jinx was the only visitor she received in the flesh, dripping tears all over her grandson as she showed Mary pictures of the crib she had purchased on her cell phone. With it, she had acquired a stock of blankets and sleepers, a rocking chair, and changing table, all of which had been stuffed into Mary's former guest room. It was haphazard and unorganized, but it was an enormous relief, and Jinx made continued promises – while blinking benevolently at Luke – that she would work tirelessly the next day in preparing it for homecoming.

The rest of the well-wishes came over the phone, but were no less heartfelt. Each was unique to the person whose voice was floating through the speaker, and Mary wished she could bottle their concern. It might've been the hormones that made her so prone to gratitude, but she was too tired to analyze it and let the feelings of goodwill wash over her without a second thought.

First on the list of callers was, not surprisingly, Brandi. There was no reason for Jinx to have kept her mouth shut; she would've needed someone to talk to with Mary and Marshall holed up together. The older sister was pleased that the younger appeared to be having the time of her life; every word in her speech was etched with elation, and she did not act the least bit upstaged by having her nephew born the day after her wedding.

"We'll never forget his birthday now!" she declared. "We can have double parties and everything – one for me and Peter, one for Luke!"

"I don't know, Squish…" Mary was wary, but she laughed anyway from where she lay, pillowed and cushioned by sheets and blankets, Marshall in a chair at her side, rocking Luke so she could speak on the phone. "But, yeah…easy to remember the day…"

"I wish you would've told me you felt crummy at the wedding!" Brandi bleated on. "I wouldn't have made you dance!"

The other didn't believe this for a second, "Yeah, I would've loved to have seen how that would've gone," proving that her sister could only be so charitable in the aftermath. "Seriously…it wasn't that bad then, and its water under the bridge now…" To avoid this subject, "Speaking of water. How's Aruba?"

"Magical!" Brandi gushed with passion. "The water is so blue – you can see your toes straight to the bottom! And the sand – it's not all rocky with all the shells and stuff like the beach we used to go to back in Jersey…" Mary was surprised Brandi had retained such a memory. "It's gorgeous; all white and smooth and soft. Do you remember when we were kids and mom took us to the ocean that one time – you were like, ten, so I was probably four or something. I cut my foot on that glass bottle and those seagulls pooped all over mom's new beach chair…"

Chuckling again made her stomach hurt, but the darkness of the Jersey shore compared with the lightness Brandi was so obviously experiencing in the tropics was a glaring contrast. She was glad her sister could replace those haunting – if now amusing – beach memories of her youth with new, dazzling ones.

"Yeah, I remember; she never took us back after that…" Mary reciprocated. "I take it there are no seagulls where you are."

"Mondo-huge-turtles, though!" she went on. "I didn't think I'd even care about all the animals and stuff, but they're so cool. Hey…!" she suddenly exclaimed like she'd had an epiphany. "Tell Marshall that Peter and I saw that warawara thing he was talking about!"

Thinking that her brain might not be working properly given her very long day, Mary frowned and shot her partner a glance. He was making eyes at Luke, wiggling his tongue between his teeth as if a child who was only a few hours old would really find silly faces humorous. The woman grinned anyway, her scowl disappearing.

"The what?" she got back to Brandi.

"Warawara – it's a bird, I guess."

"Well, that sounds like Marshall…"

At the sound of his name, he did look up, mouthing "huh?" with a goofy, gaping smile still on his face.

Covering the mouthpiece with her fingers, "Did you fill Brandi's head with ideas about bogus birds? What's a warawara?"

"It is not bogus!" he informed her in a delighted whisper, so as not to disturb Luke. "Did she see one?"

"I guess so…"

"Tell him it was really ugly," Brandi chattered on just in time for Mary to hear her. "But, I thought he'd want to know; he loves all that nature stuff."

"Yeah, he does…"

With this came a yawn that she couldn't suppress, closing her eyes and sinking into the bliss that was fresh bedding and her own pajamas – drawstring pants that still fit her lumpy form and an old thermal shirt Jinx had dug up on her many excursions out of the hospital. For the past twenty-four hours, Mary had been sure that she would never feel comfortable again, but now that she did, she was going to bask in it as much as possible, even if it did mean leaving her sister hanging on the other end of the phone.

Fortunately, her release of air had been loud enough that Brandi heard and, with many new adventures to embark upon herself, didn't have intentions of keeping Mary longer than she wanted to talk.

"You must be exhausted, Mare…" she acknowledged. "I should probably let you go."

"Thanks…" there was no sense fighting it, her eyes slipping shut, her head getting lost in her pillow. "What time is it there?"

"It's after midnight; Peter and I are heading to bed…" she reported. "But, I didn't want to go to sleep without calling. Give Luke a kiss from his auntie for me."

"I will…" she promised, trying to tell herself to actually do it when she was more awake. "I love you, Squish."

Saying such a thing to Marshall had meant the phrase came much easier all around, and the slightest of pauses in Brandi's babble meant that she noticed it too. They'd been sisters for thirty-three years, and the elder had probably never once initiated the affection, even if she could cajole herself to say it in return.

"I love you too, Mare…" it came in a whisper. "So much. Thank-you for everything you did with the wedding; I know it couldn't have been easy…"

"I didn't do much. But, you're welcome."

"Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Squish."

But, the salutations and farewells didn't end there. One of the expressions Mary received, while well-meaning, was less animated and more reserved. Keeping serene and riding the waves as they buoyed from the seafloor wasn't so hard this time; seeing Marshall in her line of vision, kissing her little boy's head and whispering who-knew-what in his miniscule ears kept her from riling. Few things seemed very daunting after childbirth, and Mary didn't even need to remind herself of that fact; it was ingrained and automatic.

"I feel horrible that I wasn't there…" Mark bemoaned several minutes into the conversation with his ex-wife. "I should've been; I should've forgotten all about work and stayed after the wedding to talk about this; it's ten times more important than stupid solar panels…"

"Mark, please don't beat yourself up…" she was merciful toward him in a way she hadn't been before. "It isn't your fault; you didn't know…"

"But, it's time for me to grow up," the birth of his son thousands of miles away seemed to have ignited something in him, even if he was operating under blind emotion and would probably feel differently in the morning. "I was a jerk at the wedding, trying to leave you in the lurch…"

"You were scared," knowing that sensation so well herself enabled Mary to spot it in other people now. "So was I at first – I still am. If you need to stay in Jersey then I will understand; your life is there. We will work something out…"

"What if it's already too late?" his unequivocal upset seemed sad on this side of things, like he no longer knew which end was up. "I missed him being born…I wasn't there when you…"

"Mark, of course it's not too late," Mary insisted with sweet, gentle nods from Marshall; praise for her being so compassionate. "Figure something out with your job, take a week or two off and come and see him…" if it took him a few days to finagle his schedule that would give the woman some time to prepare. "And, please don't worry about me. I'm sorry if you feel like you missed out on something, but I wasn't by myself. Marshall was with me the whole time."

Keeping the focus on herself enabled them not to touch on the fact that, even if Mark had been in town, Mary likely wouldn't have let him anywhere near the delivery room. In the moment, he might not have even wanted that honor, given his apprehension about being involved at all when she'd spoken to him at the reception. The grass always and sometimes only seemed greener on the other side.

"I didn't even ask you his name," he droned in a dejected voice, and Mary felt a sudden bout of nerves, dulled though they were beneath her quietude. "Does he have a name?"

"His name is Luke," she shared, hoping he would take to the title. "Marshall…kind of…sort of helped me come up with it…" this was the best explanation she had until she saw Mark in person again, even if it did earn her an all-knowing smirk from her partner. "How's it grab you?"

"I…I…no, it's fine…" he clearly didn't want to step on any toes. "He's okay then, right? He's healthy?"

"Yes…"

"How's he look? What…what's he look like?"

The need for information on the part of Luke's father was uplifting as well as slightly dismal in its own strange way. Being at the other end of the country, Mark was obviously desperate, ravenous for anything he could sink his teeth into regarding this brand new little boy – a little boy he hadn't even known existed a week earlier. Piteous that he was now deciding he wanted to be in the thick of things and couldn't because he was so far away, Mary did what she could to ease his mind and also to end the call, for she was feeling sleepy again.

"He's a good looking kid," she informed the man. "I'll send you a picture, okay? As soon as I hang up," that ought to satisfy him. "He's a redhead, so he looks a little bit like you – when we were in high school you had some burgundy in your hair, right?"

"Really…?" Mark's voice grew shaky with this tidbit, but Mary could tell it was shaking with joy that he and his son had something in common. "I mean…yeah. Yeah I guess I kind of did…"

"Well, there you have it. I'll give you the full view as soon as I can, all right?"

"Thank-you, Mary."

And with another word or two, she was able to let him go; she had a blanket excuse on not discussing anything with anybody at least for the next few days, and there would be nothing untrue about saying she was too lethargic to engage. Slipping her phone on the table by her bed, thinking surely it would be done ringing for the night; she sighed and realized that Marshall hadn't even noticed she had wrapped things up. That was because his attention was still caught by the being in his arms. Mary had to admit that Luke, above anyone else, was indeed an excellent distracter.

In any case, his ignorance of her presence just meant that she could watch him soak in the child so captivatingly. She didn't think he'd stopped smiling since Luke had been born, even if he had managed to stop crying. Leaning her head into her pillow, easily able to bypass that it was pounding listlessly, she blinked slowly, wanting to take in these peaceful moments before her life became a whirlwind of early morning feedings and dirty diapers and everything else that came with a newborn.

"You're some pair of boys…" Mary commented when she had gazed for several minutes, and Marshall snapped out of his daze at once. "Just saying," she finished in response to his bright-eyed look.

"I am a shameless baby hog," Marshall proclaimed, not sounding guilty in the least. "I should probably give the handsome devil here back to his mama…"

She waved a careless hand, "You can keep him for another few minutes…" but, she couldn't resist giving those slight auburn waves a slow, deliberate stroke. "You put on a good show."

"Who knew mooning all dewy-eyed like me really qualified as a show?"

"And yet, it does," Mary assured him. "At any rate, I'm not sure my phone's done going off. Jinx will probably think of something else to tell me before she turns in for the night."

"You have been all the rage today, I do admit," he stated. "Sounds like things with Mark went better this time. Might we be seeing him soon?"

"Yeah, maybe," she couldn't commit. "I don't know. I think he still needs some more time, but he wants to step up. That's what matters."

"Indeed."

"And even if he doesn't…" there was a conversation Mary knew she needed to have before she went down for the count, and while it might be out of place among such stillness, she had no way of knowing how much longer she had. "Hell, even if he does…" now she poked her finger into Luke's cheek, still marveling at how soft his skin was. "It's not like Luke won't have a dad or better right here…"

Shaken abruptly from his reverie, something Mary regretted but would have to sidestep, Marshall looked as though he'd been hit in the face by this sudden assertion. In many ways, it was foolish of him not to expect to be given the role of father, even if his title said otherwise, but as he and Mary had yet to hash out everything that had been hurled into the open following Brandi's wedding, it was hard to know. Past experience told him that to go too fast or too directly would be a mistake, and yet Mary was the one pushing the envelope this time.

"Mary, I…I'm not looking to…" this was both simple and difficult with the baby in his arms; it made him consider his responses more carefully. "I mean…you and me…that's one thing…" this was accurate. "But…it's not my intention to replace anybody; families work when everyone is willing to compromise, not necessarily concede, and I don't want Mark or anyone else to have to…"

But, before he could finish his thought, Mary proved her assumptions partially correct when her phone erupted in a flurry of buzzing, alarming Marshall more than her. Gaping soundlessly at being unintentionally interrupted, he glanced to the phone knowing how unfair it was for his partner to have to make more small talk, forgot his uncertainty for the moment, and stepped up to the plate.

"Let me get it…you need to rest…"

"Stop…" her fingers closed around his, preventing him from taking the cell. "At least let me see who it is first…"

Aware that this was reasonable, Marshall allowed her that much freedom, quietly placing his itchy hand back where it belonged – across Luke's middle, which brought the grinning and the gawking to the forefront once more. Glad he wasn't dwelling, Mary set her eyes on her caller ID and saw that the person waiting on the other end wasn't one she wished to evade for a change.

"This, I can handle…" her perpetual smile was now matched with Marshall's and she shook her hair out of her face to make room for the phone. "Hello?"

This voice brought her more comfort, an aura of protection she had not received from Jinx, Brandi, or Mark. Short of Marshall, this individual could embody her with the sense that she would never be alone – that there would always be someone watching out for her, giving her what-for when she needed it, and drying her tears no matter how uncomfortable it made him, Marshall or no Marshall.

"Well, I'll be…" the paternal one remarked with an air of surprise. "I thought I'd be talking to your gallant partner in crime…" understandable, even though he had dialed her number. "I didn't wake you, did I?"

"No, I was up…" Mary murmured. "Though, for how much longer…" hesitancy was sneaking in.

"I'll make this quick, then," Stan promised. "Congratulations all around, kiddo. How are you feeling?"

"Tired. Sore," lying and saving face benefitted no one here. "But, in one piece, believe it or not. And…happy."

"I'm glad to hear it," he swore. "I just wanted to check in on you. Delia's been going crazy all day, asking me every half hour if we had ourselves a baby – if it would be presumptuous to throw you an impromptu, last-minute baby shower…"

Chuckling at her co-worker's zealousness, "I like that 'we' part of it," Stan would think she was being sarcastic, but she was serious. "It takes a village, right?"

"And a couple of Marshals," Stan agreed. "Mr. Luke may be yours in name, but you aren't going to be able to keep the rest of us from imparting our wisdom, so to speak," this was actually consoling, not overwhelming, especially after all the fretting Mary had done over being alone. "We law enforcement types stay with our team, inspector. New members are inducted and taken under our wing with style."

A sudden flash glimmered in Mary's mind, even though it was as exhausted as the rest of her. The predictions of her running herself into the ground as she scrambled as an inexperienced mother – which were still likely to occur – were replaced with different images, ones that were as miraculous as that sandy, balmy beach Brandi had detailed on the phone. It might not be everyone's paradise; it might include a father halfway across the country and no grandfather to speak of, but it included plenty of other things as well.

She saw Jinx spoiling her first grandchild rotten, lavishing him with gifts and novelties no matter how Mary protested. She saw Stan showing him the ropes, teaching him to stand up straight and tall, to be a bad ass even when you felt like cowering in the corner. She saw Brandi, tentative but completely over the top in her adoration of her nephew, trying her hand at baby-sitting so she could be ready when her day arrived, a fun-loving and relaxed Peter in the background. She even saw Delia, ready to drop everything at a moment's notice just to care for the child of her snarky colleague purely because that was who she was – embedded with the desire to help anyone in need.

And, of course, she saw Marshall – the king, the ruler of them all. She had no doubt he would be better with Luke than she was, serious when the occasion called for it, a total crack up on every other day – a profusion of bed time stories, board games, swings and slides, first steps, first words, first days of school, and more; she wanted him there for every minute with the excess of others, ready to take over without a second thought.

It might not be everyone's dream, and Mary knew in the day-to-day existence she would find portions of it tedious, and would perhaps even take it for granted. But, she couldn't ask for anything better than the legions Stan had described to nurture Luke into his own. That flowery vision she had-had of the boy who used to be Mango, splashing in the ocean tide with his Providence parents, was long gone. She accepted and embraced the more worldly version with open arms.

"I appreciate that, Stan…" she whispered, probably startling him by being so benevolent. "Just in case I forget to say it in all the years down the road. I do appreciate it."

"Luke is one of us now," he wasn't backing down in the least. "Just like you and Marshall have always been."

The mention of Marshall recalled the woman to something else she needed to express, even with the man she was going to speak about sitting right at her elbow. Really, the time for being embarrassed had disappeared. She wouldn't be surprised if she became completely uninhibited after today; childbirth in front of Marshall would likely obliterate any insecurities she might've had left.

"Thank-you for telling him…about me…" she uttered quietly. "About…where I was, and telling him to come down here…even though I told you not to." With a weak chortle, "I'm glad you didn't listen. I'd have been lost otherwise."

"Sometimes boss knows best," Stan stated genially. "Don't ever doubt that, inspector," mock-seriousness prevailed.

There was no telling just how much Marshall had revealed to their mutual chief before he had come to Mary's aid, but she was betting it was more than enough for him to realize the beans had been spilled. His tolerance with the two of them as they traveled their own unsteady road had to be admired; somehow, he had molded them into two people who could work seamlessly together even with far more than friendship waging underneath. That was a talent, if ever there was one.

And, Mary knew she owed Stan just as much as she owed the original Luke, because the latter might have driven Marshall to Albuquerque but the delightfully bald had been the one to hire her. The dominoes never would've fallen in succession without the roles of so very many, but the boss had been at the helm the longest.

"Now, your guy will have my head if I keep you too long," and he was back, ready to be a gentleman. "Get some sleep, won't you? Luke is going to need you at the top of your game."

"Only the scrappiest get put on this team, right?" reflecting over his prior words. "I'd say he's proved himself already."

"I will take your word for it," Stan trusted. "You're a warrior, inspector, so it's no wonder he is too. I'll stop by and see you tomorrow morning, okay?"

"Okay." Her final words came as easily as they had done with Brandi, "I love you, Stan."

The reply was much the same as well – a hitch, the tiniest of gasps, the shock that Mary could be so forward but, like her little sister, he accepted it without complaint and even with fondness.

"Well, I love you too, kiddo…" and he didn't sound awkward at all. "Team Silver Star, that's us, right?"

Knowing he was referring to the forever-preserved-in-time seal that represented the Marshal Service, she chuckled at the thought of what her partner would say to such a corny but charming title, and acknowledged it with nary a disdainful word.

"Sounds about right. Luke can be captain."

"I'll put in the paperwork."

"Bye, Stan."

"I'll see you, Mary."

When the blonde hung up this time, she quickly discovered that her chatting time was over, at least for the night. Before she could toss her cell back onto her night table, Marshall had already slipped it clean out of her grasp and dumped it on the floor on top of her tote where she couldn't reach it. This was a silent, but obvious signal that she was not going to be entertaining anymore, whether she wanted to or not. For as sluggish as she was, Mary doubted she was going to be able to hold her head up for any extended period of time, anyway, and she appreciated Marshall taking care of her. It was what he did best, after all.

"It's late…" he announced, as if she didn't know. "Any subsequent calls can wait until tomorrow."

"Come on…" Mary smirked as she stretched, shimmying further under her blankets as she did so. "I slept for a little while earlier…"

"An hour is not sufficient," he decided, sounding extremely scholarly. "That's all you got before Jinx showed up. You need to catch as many z's as you can, because even though you'll likely be here at least through tomorrow, your snoozing days will have passed."

"So bossy…" she was still grinning so he would know she was teasing. "That tone is awfully 'dad' of you. Where'd you learn that? Ted?"

But, what was intended as a joke was taken critically by Marshall, who suddenly looked remarkably melancholy, a dark scowl on his face. The picture didn't mesh at all with the man Mary had just been drooling over, the man who nestled her son like he had been fostering babies his entire life. The look she was receiving now was much too menacing, like someone older and more weathered was living behind Marshall's eyes – this, perhaps, was the Marshall who had lost the original Luke.

"What is that face?" Mary wanted to know at once.

"You…calling me 'dad…'" at least he didn't waste any time, not when they had so little of it to spare before he commanded that his partner relax. "I…I was trying to tell you something before Stan called…"

"So, tell me now."

Marshall sighed, sounding drained already, "This isn't a good time for this. You have been through the wars today, and you do not need me adding to your stress."

"I really don't think that's going to happen," she persisted. "In fact, it'll just stress me out more if you don't tell me," this was logical. "Come on, what is it? What's the deal with the 'dad' thing? Even if that's not who you are, that's still who you are…"

"Mary, I don't want to be the interloper," he interjected quite speedily for a man who had wanted to hold back. "Mark has rights, rights he is entitled to. I don't want to take anyone's place."

Opting to chew on this for a moment, to show the man she was taking him seriously, Mary found her thoughts hampered yet again. She adored the sight of him and Luke so much that it actually encumbered her ability to consider much of anything. He was a natural, far more than she was. It was as if Luke's miniscule body were built to reside in Marshall's hands. The crook of his arm bent perfectly against the man's chest, his head cuddled right in the dip of his caretaker's elbow. Feet just barely jutting out at the far end of his cradle, Marshall's grasp was a haven, the flawless substitute for Mary's womb.

"But…think about what I'd be taking from him if I deny him everything you can give him…" by 'him' of course she meant Luke. "You said it yourself just before he was born. You and I, we bring out parts of each other that we can't seem to find when we're alone. Luke belongs to you, just as much as he belongs to me; he needs both of us. Look at him…"

And Marshall did look, unable to allow his gaze to stray for too long because the creature below was just that miraculous. That same smile he had worn since exactly 7:03 PM snuck onto his face once more, reluctant and uncertain as it might have been.

"But…even so…" he was going to be noble, going to make sure his point was made without fail. "I'm not interested in being 'the other guy' when Mark is still out there somewhere, especially when I don't even know what we are…"

"Oh, us…" Mary waved a dismissive hand, suddenly deciding that a definition for their relationship was wholly unimportant. "Please. Marshall, if I have you and you have me, then that's good enough. Moving in and making out and throwing a shindig like the one we just had for Brandi…" she meant a wedding. "It'll come when it comes. We at least have some idea of where we stand now, and that's more than we had yesterday. I care much more about who you are to Luke than who you are to me."

As if he already knew his name so astonishingly early in life, Luke himself gave a sudden coo that turned quickly to a cry, waking up unsure and confused even in spite of his beautiful cocoon. It was a great big, brand new, bright-lighted, loud-noised world above him, and Mary could hardly blame him for coming to with trepidation. And yet, the sound of his whimper was like a bell, tinkling and waving slowly inside her chest, and her hand was reaching across into Marshall's lap, checking on him, seeing to it that he was secure.

With Marshall, it was foolish to think he wasn't entirely protected, but the man couldn't be prouder that those maternal instincts, long anticipated and often doubted, were finally coming to a head.

"Someone's looking for his mom…" the taller observed, and even though he had no way of knowing if that were true, Mary delighted in the idea just the same. "It's about time she got a better look anyway…"

Perhaps to avoid what were clearly opposing points of view on the same issue, but also because he couldn't get enough of seeing Mary and her child together, Marshall stood and prepared to lower the little boy into the arms that were poised and ready for him to land. Not as adept as her best friend, but learning more by the minute, Mary was cautious and careful as Luke came to rest against her breast, much as he had done in those first few fateful moments. The impression she gathered at having him so close was no less invigorating as it had been on that occasion either. Feather light and rosy cheeked, even with his mouth working itself into a tiny O of disbelief, he was still all warmth and wholesome enchantment, seemingly glowing from the inside out.

For a moment as Marshall regained his seat, he suspected Mary had forgotten he was with her, and that suited him fine. There was no call for interrupting a connection like the one she had so recently discovered, full of endless opportunities – a blank slate, a fresh start; for everyone involved.

"Shh…" Mary hummed, a professional already, just as Marshall had assumed. "Come on, my Luke…" a soft smile when he stopped crying and simply gazed, wide-eyed with wonder, right up at his mother. "See? What are you so worked up for?"

"He knows he's home," Marshall cut in quietly. "Two people loving him or twenty, he still knows exactly where to go when he's lost."

Not becoming completely enraptured by her child was hard, but Mary tried to put him in the rear of her mind for a split second in order to take advantage of Marshall's statement, for it led so perfectly into what she'd been trying to tell him minutes before.

"You know, Marshall…" in a weird way, Mary felt like she was reasoning with him, which was a role reversal for both of them. "Stan says we're a team."

"You and me?" he asked. "You and Luke…?"

"All of us," she clarified. "Not just you, me, and Luke, but everybody – everybody who cares about me and everybody who cares about you should, if they know what's good for them, care about Luke," rationally, this made sense. "And they're his team. You and me, Stan, Jinx and Brandi, Peter, Delia, Mark, even Ted and Leann and the girls…" it was all she could think of and then some. "I don't know about you, but I'm figuring out pretty quickly how much I'm relying on all of them to show me the way here…" gesturing at Luke so he would get the gist.

Leave it to his boss to make something so seemingly complicated so effortless, as simple as it really was. And, while Marshall had long since fantasized about a life with Mary and her child, even their child, he was rapidly realizing that those dreams were exactly that – dreams. Rolling with the punches, winging it, and depending upon those around you to keep you on your feet was what it was all about; the hub he had coveted with Mary was going to expand, and they were lucky for that. Very lucky indeed.

Even so, he wasn't sure his fear of intrusion was covered by this notion, but Mary soon took care of that as well.

"You know how it is on a team, Marshall – any team…"

Basketball, baseball, or a mangled, slipshod lineup of Marshals and fathers, uncles and grandmothers spanning the globe from Alaska to Albuquerque to Indiana to New Jersey.

"Nobody stays in the same position forever. I could be the coach one day – calling every shot, strategizing every play – and I could be in left field the next while you're in charge," it was the best analogy she could come up with, right up Marshall's alley. "You go with what's going to help you win. And, the way I see it, with me as the coach and you as our MVP, Luke is going to be captain of a pretty dominant squad – even one that includes Jinx and Brandi at shortstop and second."

At this, the taller laughed, probably trying to picture the two women motoring around on a baseball field, but Mary's correlation – and Stan's, it would seem – was starting to ring very true. Day in and out, he could be the star just as Mary had indicated, with only she in a higher position of power than he was. But, there would be times when the win was achieved with Mark as the secret weapon, the pinch hitter who was going to knock a homerun clear out of the park. Luke needed his father, just as every team needed someone to pull them out of a hole once in awhile. It had nothing to do with imposition or interference but about acting under the greater good for the group as a whole. With Luke under their wings, they needed every player on the bench they could get.

"Well…that's a team I can say I am proud to be a part of…" he finally voiced, and was pleased to see a look of relief flit across Mary's face that he was in agreement, that she didn't have to worry about losing him just so he could feel he wasn't getting in the way. "With Inspector Brave Star and Courageous Crystal at the helm…"

The sight of Mary rolling her eyes at him bringing those names back into the open was like a rainbow beaming over the treetops, the pot of gold at the bottom sparkling and overflowing in earnest. A knock-out, drag-down fight about their relationship combined with just how closely he had viewed her during Luke's birth had left him concerned they might not reclaim what they'd once had, even if the end result was better than ever. Her disdain for his sap was just the ticket back to the syncopated rhythm they had survived under for so long.

"You are as bad as Stan," she told him. "He's already decided we're Team Silver Star, if you can imagine something so corny. Something tells me you can."

"I like it!" no big surprise there. "Rustic, majestic, and a throwback to how you and I came to be one in the first place," their Marshal badges would forever be emblazoned with the five-point-emblem, reminding them of the work that had brought them together in the beginning. "A fitting depiction; Stan has us down pat."

"Yeah, well…" Mary groaned. "It's just a good thing I love you both – to put up with a label like that."

As it had been hours before, the three-word-phrase was still music to Marshall's ears, its wonder matched only by the sight and sound of the little boy rocking between them. He had thought nothing could rival hearing Mary confess her undying adoration to him, but Luke and such a meaningful phrase were neck-and-neck in that race.

"You are truly extraordinary," was how he responded. "I haven't told you that lately, have I?"

"A few times," Mary chuckled. "But, thanks. It's how I'm going to need to feel if I'm protecting the most fragile member of this crew."

And with another look down, she saw Luke peering almost interestedly up into her face, like he was only just now realizing what Marshall had claimed all along – that the woman he snuggled against was his mother, someone he could trust implicitly for the rest of his days. In times of tragedy and in times of triumph, she was the one he could run to – his coach, his right hand, his mama.

And yet, what would the coach really be without her number one player to lead the gang to victory?

"I'd say you're more than up to the task…" Marshall, the ace in every game from here on out, leaned over and laid the gentlest of fluttering kisses on her cheek.

If she listened hard enough, Mary almost thought she could hear the crack of the bat, the thudding of feet, and the roar of the crowd that would lead her and Luke home.

"Team Silver Star for the win."

XXX

A/N: That's all she wrote, folks (at least for this story)! My heart is sending all of my readers and reviewers endless gratitude. Thank-you to KeiraCassidy, Ares' Warrior Babe, JJ2008, Jayne Leigh, Meg Manning, Beth – Geek Chick, BrittanyLS, usafcmycloud, carajiggirl, hannanball13, Adelled, butterfly83, kdgteacher7, Karfinwen, Candice, exoticanimal, Bookworm0485, threedays, PepperAnn1, and several guests. Whether you reviewed once, a handful of times, or every single chapter, your support is endlessly appreciated.

Many people have asked if I have anything in the works. I had dim ideas for a sequel to this story, but it hasn't materialized yet, so I started working on the fourth installment in the Holiday Series. I can't promise it will become anything, but Norah, Robyn, Max, and Alice started calling me back! Again, I can't express enough gratitude to all of you for sticking with me on this journey. My love of IPS has yet to die, and you guys keep me thinking I am not the only one who misses it! I was thrilled to see Mary McCormack guest host Chelsea Lately last week. If you missed it, you should at least check out the end – her daughters were on, and they are beautiful!

Anyway, much love! I would LOVE to read what you think of how I wrapped this up!