They were already fifteen minutes late for work. Rather, Jane was fifteen minutes late for his part-time gig at the FBI teaching recruits how to read people, and Lisbon was fifteen minutes late for desk duty. Yes. Desk duty. At eight months pregnant, she was due to go on maternity leave in a week, but she already felt like going on it now. She was tired, had trouble getting up from her desk, and her bladder had all but refused to allow her even ten minutes of peace, it seemed.

She sighed heavily, putting on her maternity blouse she had bought just a few weeks prior. She looked down, and rubbed her burgeoning belly with her hands, walking over to the floor-length mirror to make sure she got the back of her shirt down. She had once made the mistake of not checking, and had quite the embarrassing mishap at work when Wylie timidly pointed out that her shirt was tucked into the strap of her bra. He had fixed it, reluctantly, for her, looking around to make sure Jane was nowhere in sight before doing so.

That was a few months ago, however. Now, she couldn't see if her shirt was down in the back or not. When she turned herself in the mirror, she couldn't see over her shoulder too well. She reached her hand back and felt flesh which told that her shirt was indeed stuck. She groaned inwardly.

"Jane!" she called, twisting in the mirror. "Jane! Can you come here for a second?"

She heard some noise from the bathroom that connected to their bedroom. Jane emerged a few seconds later, fixing his vest and buttoning his shirt cuffs. He smiled widely at her as she tried unsuccessfully to tried to reach up with her hand to pull the material from her bra. He walked across the bedroom and pulled the blouse loose, letting it fall down her back and over her slacks. She groaned again, putting her hands on her enlarged belly. Jane laughed and came to wrap his arms around her from behind, pressing his hands on hers, laying bare over their child.

"Our child will soon be here, Teresa," he assured her. "You'll be back to yourself in no time."

"I look fat," she told him, frowning.

He kissed her neck. "Hey! None of that!" he told her between kisses. "You are a gorgeous creature. Just as you always have been. You won't be this way always, love."

"Feels like it," she told him, taking her hands from under his and bringing them to rest over top, rubbing their hands over her belly. "But worth it."

"Ah, Teresa," he laughed in her ear. "You couldn't be more beautiful to me. Nothing is more beautiful than my wife and the life I helped create inside of her."

He followed her gaze to the mirror, looking at them as their hands slid over the warm flesh. He kissed her neck once again and smiled at the pair of them, standing there stroking their child.

"This top looks particularly good," he told her. "Brings out your eyes."

She scoffed as he pushed his hands down to the base of her belly and pushed at the hem of her shirt. He raised it up above her navel, sliding his hands over naked flesh.

"It distracts the view, though," he whispered, resting his chin on her shoulder. "I much rather look at you like this. Knowing that there is nothing between my and our baby but your skin."

"I'm your wife," Lisbon told him, leaning back against him. "It is your duty to say that."

"As my wife, you are obligated to know the truth, Teresa," he said, "You are inherently gorgeous. My favorite thing to cuddle," he laughed, squeezing her. "Well, when our baby comes, the second favorite. I love looking at you, knowing you are mine. And you are having my child." He rubbed her belly again, her hands guiding him along. "You are one incredible woman. So how about you stop pouting?"

"I just want to meet them already!" she exclaimed. "I hate waiting."

He chuckled. "That's my Lisbon."

She was silent for a moment, just the feel of their hands on her belly and Jane's breathing in her ear. Then, "You really think I'm incredible?" She smiled widely at him in the mirror's reflection.

"I do," he answered. "Mmm. How can I not? You put up with me."

She laughed. "True."

"So, how about we stop with all this self-doubt and calling yourself names? You aren't going to be this way forever, Teresa," he said, kissing her cheek. "And even if you were to, I'd love you the same."

"Really?"

"Really, my little fat grape," he said, kissing her cheek again. "Now, let's get going. This time, I don't think you will require any help from Wylie," he told her, arching his eyebrow at her.

Her cheeks flushed red and she turned to him, her shirt falling back over her belly bump. She reached up and bent her arms around his neck, stepping on her toes to give him a kiss. He was into the kiss, bringing his hands to the sides of her face and giving as much as he was receiving. She broke the kiss, causing him to gasp. She smiled at him and nodded toward the door.

"Come on, daddy," she told him, walking around him. "This fat grape has desk duty to do."