Disclaimer: I own nothing.

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This idea came to me after watching the 'Crimson Casanova' episode. I've taken a creative licence and inserted an established relationship between Jane and Lisbon, and a newly pregnant Teresa.

Apologies if I've missed some things, or gotten some things wrong - I'm working from my memory of the episode.

Enjoy!

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The day had started well enough - she had energy, she was awake and ready to face whatever case was thrown at her.

But after she left the hotel, and swearing that she'd get back at Patrick later for his remarks about women being like toasters and accordians, Teresa Lisbon is fading fast.

As Rigsby, Jane, Cho and Van Pelt go out and about interviewing suspects - or in Jane's case assaulting suspects! - and attempting to solve the case, Lisbon is conspicuously absent. This is due to the in-aptly named 'morning sickness' that seems to be an all-day, all-night sickness. She's running out of excuses on what to tell her team about her frequent trips to the head.

Finally being able to leave the bathroom with some degree of decorum, she discovers that Jane has gotten into trouble again. Kicking Jane's couch and remonstrating him for 'assaulting' Mr. Wolcott, she takes a great deal of satisfaction when she leans down and flicks Patrick's nose, before storming off. 'Serves him right!' swore her hormonal brain.

The case progresses, and the team sets themselves up at the hotel ready to catch the killer. Cho is working the ladies in the bar, whilst the rest of the team is holed up in a hotel room watching it all play out in front of them.

As they continue to monitor the situation, Teresa is quickly waning.

In the end, she slumps on the lounge, hands resting inconspicuously on her still flat belly as she calls the shots. She sincerely wished that Kevin Haightly would hurry up and make his move, because she wasn't sure how long she'd be able to stay awake for!

When Kevin finally stormed into the room, gun ablazing, Teresa was at the back of the pack, allowing Rigsby and Van Pelt to do the necessary arrest. Her hair falls over her face, and she's too tired to brush it back as the tiny remnants of her adrenaline rush finally fade, and she is done for.

When Patrick goes into his rage about Haightly not caring about the fact that he's killed Claire Wolcott, Lisbon takes a deep breath and steps up to try and diffuse the situation. 'That's enough.'

Patrick takes in her exhausted face and calms somewhat. 'I-I-I just ... I think he should be sorry.'

Haightly apologises, and is led from the room in cuffs.

As Cho remains absent counselling Katie, Patrick decides to attempt to fix the relationship between Paul Fricke and Katie himself. Expressing his desire to his boss, Teresa just looked at him blankly, and said 'Sure. I'll be somewhere asleep. Find me after.'

Mission completed as he sits at the bar with his drink after Paul has left to pursue Katie, Patrick is approached by a woman who asks him to join her and her friend. He responds with a 'Sorry, I'm married.'

As the woman leaves, Patrick looks down at his ring. It's been a long time since he's been able to say that. And thinking of that, maybe it's time that he went and found his wife and got her home.

Within forty minutes, Teresa has been helped to the car, fallen asleep in said car, been carried inside by her husband, stripped, dressed and popped into bed, covers firmly around her as she shifts towards Patrick's warm form, happily entering slumberland curled tightly around his naked chest, as he brushes his lips over her head.

Patrick is awake for a little while longer as he considers the events of the past few days. He was going to have to watch this woman of his to make sure she didn't overdo it. She was only ten weeks along, and they'd only known about it for a little over a week, but she'd already been hit hard by the 'all-day, all-night sickness' as she called it.

They'd have to tell the team eventually, he pondered, but he had suspicions that Cho was catching on quick. Not much got past that man.

Bringing his thoughts back to the little spitfire in his arms, he grinned. She was his 'Little Miss Independent', no make that 'Mrs Independent' he chuckled to himself as he pulled her closer and finally allowed himself to sleep.