A/N: The general idea for this one-shot has been on my mind since almost right after White Orchids had aired. But since I'm still busy writing on my multi-chapter "This Is Not A Drill", I hadn't gotten it down 'on paper' yet. But today is janedoe51's birthday and she's been waiting for me to write this ever since I first told her about the idea. So here you go, my friend! SURPRISE! And Happy Birthday! I hope, you'll enjoy this.
I'm afraid, this story may be a bit rough and bumpy here and there because I didn't have enough time to edit it as much as I usually do before I post things but I had a deadline to meet… Oh, and it's pure fluff – about as fluffy as it can get. So be warned.
Little Yellow Houses
Sidestepping a pile of floorboards that was considerably smaller than when she had left for work that morning, Teresa Lisbon entered her home with a huge smile on her lips. "Jane?" she shouted over the sound of a jigsaw, following the noise to the back of the shack that no longer matched that term but it had kind of stuck anyway. Now it was more and more turning into a real house.
The racket stopped. "Out on the back porch," Jane answered, "just finishing up the flooring in the nursery." The tool started again.
Lisbon stuck her head through the French window and took in the sight of her hard working husband with great satisfaction. Sweat was running down his brow, his old, dark blue t-shirt, torn in many places, showed wet patches too. It was a very pleasant view.
Working outside had given his arms and face a deep tan and his curls were lighter than she'd ever seen them. And while he hadn't exactly been a slouch before – despite his many hours spent on couches – the physical labor of building their home had added some nice muscle. All in all, he'd never looked stronger, healthier, and happier. Her smile grew.
The jigsaw was switched off again. "Hello, my two ladies," Jane greeted her with a grin that showed off every line and dimple on his face. He set down the tool and closed the distance between them. He bent over a little and pecked her on the lips, then lowered his head to do the same to her six-month pregnant stomach.
"You need a shower," she announced, her nose extra sensitive to smells at the moment.
"I suppose, I do," Jane replied with a chuckle, looking down at himself critically. "It's been pretty hot today and I've been busy. Just give me another half hour, my dear. This is the last floorboard left to be placed."
She caressed his sweaty cheek. "Take your time. I call first dibs on the bathroom anyway."
"I can't wait for your brothers to come by and help me fix the second one," Jane stated. "In a few years between you and our little one, I'd never get to take a shower again otherwise."
"Hah. You take more time in the bathroom than I do," Lisbon teased.
He raised his brow. "You, my dear, are the living proof of the veracity of Einstein's theory about time being relative."
"You better go back to work, smart-ass, because you said thirty minutes until you'll be finished and I'm counting." With that she turned around and went back inside.
His joyous laughter followed her. "I love you, Teresa," he shouted after her. "Even though you're a mean bathroom hog."
A little over an hour later a clean Jane proudly showed his wife his day's work, most prominently the newly finished flooring in the nursery. "Wow!" she praised him, "You've really become very, very good at this! It looks great. Stan will be impressed."
"Meh." He looked extremely self-satisfied.
"No, seriously," she added with a playful smile. "He'd be impressed even if you'd just managed to fix one single floorboard, but seeing this, he might want to hire you," she teased. "He may even have a stroke from the shock. I mean, he laughed for one hour straight when I first told him about you wanting to remodel this shack. I think, his exact words were 'Sis, you know, I really like that guy, but how can you allow that dude in a three-piece-suit anywhere near a toolbox?'"
Jane rolled his eyes. "Unrefined buffoon. As if I was born in a three-piece suit! I bet, I already knew how to exchange a V-belt on a truck when he was still poo-pooing his diapers."
Lisbon snickered. "I guess, my little brother is in for a surprise in any case. I'm just miffed, I won't be here to see his face."
She stepped fully into the room that would soon be her daughter's nursery and looked around. Apart from the beautiful dark wood flooring her husband had laid that day, it was still a shell. Since the space had been added to the original cabin, it wasn't attached to the electronic system of the shack yet – a system that was in dire need of an update. Fortunately, her brother Jimmy would take care of that in a couple of weeks when he and Stan would come to stay for about ten days to support Jane in the remodeling. They would help with the plumbing for the second bathroom too – specialized stuff that her husband wisely wanted to be done by experts.
"We really need to decide on the design," Lisbon said with a deep sigh. The room had a lot of potential and had been planned meticulously by the father-to-be. It was of a generous size, had a picture window facing the lake and a window seat, and now also a very nice floor. But for the rest they hadn't found a suitable solution. They'd studied so many catalogs and websites for nurseries over the past month that Lisbon was pretty sure, she knew everything about le dernier cri in furnishings for children. It was astonishing what other people seemed to like.
If they hadn't been so desperate to find something fitting for themselves, it could've been fun to look at all the awful, pretentious kitsch. And at first it had been amusing but unfortunately they were working under a deadline. So their mirth had turned into exasperation fast. Who in their right mind would want their child's nursery to look like a pink, glittery unicorn had vomited fairy-dust all over it? And why would anyone want a room to look the exact match to the nursery of the pitiable child of some c-list celebrity thrice divorced and involved in a custody battle?
At least it had been easy enough to find several beds and changing tables and closets in different woods they both liked just fine. But the wallpaper had remained a real problem and with it also the final choice of furniture. Lisbon glared at one of the raw walls as if it was her personal enemy. "Maybe the one with the ducklings isn't as ghastly after all," she said with an expression on her face that belied her words.
Jane snorted. "No way, Lisbon. Our daughter will see real ducklings out there." He nodded in the direction of the window. "I won't expect of her to deal with 100s of painted abominations on the walls of her room that are neither anatomically correct nor tasteful or endearing enough to make up for that shortcoming."
She stepped up next to him and slipped her arm underneath his. "Yeah, I don't really like that one either. It just seemed the least hideous one."
Jane turned his head in her direction. "Lisbon?" he inquired carefully, "Do you trust me?"
"You know, I do," she replied, a questioning look on her face.
"Well, I mean, do you trust me with the nursery? Because I have an idea for it that I think, you'll like. Actually, I kind of have an excellent plan in motion concerning it but I want it to be a surprise. I know, this is a big deal – our child's room and all that. And I don't want you to feel left out of the decision or anything, I'd just… I'd love to do this for you, for us, for our baby," he rambled.
Lisbon took a moment to contemplate his words. Was she ready to leave this to Jane? It wasn't so much a question of trust because she did trust him and he had good taste – better than her, truth be told – and a great eye for what would fit their place. But this was the nursery for her first child and as he had said, it was an important matter.
She looked at him and into his hopeful face. He was rocking back and forth on his bare feet, his whole body almost giddy with excitement, and suddenly the decision was easy. "Yes, do it," she said with a warm smile.
"Are you sure?" he asked.
Lisbon nodded. "Yes, I'm sure."
Jane rubbed his hands together in obvious glee. "Excellent. You won't regret it, Lisbon, I promise."
Such a statement coming from Patrick Jane would've felt like impending doom a few years ago and made all alarms go off in her head and heart. But nowadays no dread was spreading inside of her and warmth bloomed instead. "I'll hold you to that," she said gently.
They had truly come a long way.
Two weeks later early one Monday morning a rather disgruntled agent Lisbon was sitting in the car next to her husband who was driving her to the airport. She was going to a five day workshop at Quantico and though she was looking forward to it, she still hated to leave. First of all, she would have to spend the nights all alone and past experience – this was her third workshop during the last 12 weeks – had shown that neither she nor her husband liked to wake up, knowing they wouldn't see the other. Not even to mention how ridiculously used she'd grown to falling asleep in physical proximity to Jane. All her life she'd secretly made fun of people who claimed they couldn't sleep well without their spouse. Now the joke was completely on her. And as if the sleeping situation wasn't bad enough, the fact that her brothers Jimmy and Stan, including his wife Karen and their children, would arrive in Austin an hour after her plane had taken off added insult to injury.
It was just all around bad timing but Stan's working schedule only allowed for the visit to happen now and she knew, his and Jimmy's help were essential to finishing the work on their home in time before their daughter arrived. So she had to accept that she would miss half of their stay and take pleasure from the thought of Jane getting some real bonding time with his in-laws. He had truly embraced her family from the moment he'd met them and vice versa. Unsurprisingly, uncle Paddy had become a favorite of her nieces and nephews right away, and also her brothers had fully accepted him into the fold with their usual gruff geniality which Jane, amazingly enough, seemed to relate to easily.
Sometimes she still had to remind herself that her husband had grown up in an environment that was populated by people who were rough around the edges too because Jane had made an art form out of masking where he came from. He sold posh and swanky so well that new people meeting him – including her own family – just naturally assumed, he'd been brought up in some high-class home.
The thought of the faces her brothers would make when they realized that they hadn't been invited to save their hapless brother-in-law's ass from the total disaster area he surely had turned their poor pregnant sister's future home into but were meant to help a very capable handyman with the more complicated stuff cheered her up.
Of course, Jane had made a point of wearing a three-piece-suit – something he hadn't had much opportunity to do recently, which was a real pity and had almost made them run late that morning because she really, really liked those vests – to the airport to fetch them, and Lisbon was sure, he'd make the revelation of his true manual skills as painful and humiliating as possible for her brothers. She fully approved.
"That's a very big and utterly devious grin on your face," Jane stated after a short sideways glance at her. "What happened to Missus Grumpy?"
"She's still here and doesn't want to go away," Lisbon assured him. "But she got company from Misses 'I so love the thought of my two braggarts, ahem, I meant brothers, getting thoroughly mentalized.'" She cackled.
Her husband sported an appreciative smirk. "And I so love that evil side of you, dear wife. And I promise, I'll make it worth it. Maybe I'll even let Karen in on it so she can take pics at the right moment."
"Oh, please do!" she said eagerly.
"In return I expect full disclosure on what the FBI teaches people about the psychology of crime," Jane retorted.
"Oh, I will. Don't worry. I can't wait to compare notes. But I still think, it's a little unfair that I have to take these workshops in order to be allowed to teach our special advanced training and you don't, even though we'll do it together," she pouted.
He squeezed her thigh tenderly. "I bet, it's self-preservation, Lisbon. They are afraid of me at Quantico."
"Yeah, sure." She snorted.
"But seriously, Teresa," he continued, "I know, it's not fair but the truth is that what I'm going to contribute to our program isn't something they can teach me anything about. So what would be the point of sending me on workshops about stuff I have no basis to impart on others because I've never even had any of the normal training you agents have all gone through? The beauty of what we're gonna offer is that we'll be able to combine our skills and show them how every agent can benefit from broadening their knowledge and most of all their horizon – if they're willing to think outside the box. It will be so much fun when you've gotten your trainer certificate and we can start developing our program for real. And you being up-to-date on the latest methods they teach new agents at Quantico will help."
He caressed her thigh. "Just think of all the advantages. We'll still get to work extra tough cases but our team will first and foremost offer a training program for agents from all of the US that is so unique that the powers that be are willing to accommodate us and let it take place here in Austin instead of at Quantico. We'll finally work more or less regular hours and will have time for our family life. It's gonna be perfect, Lisbon.
"I know," she muttered. He was right after all. She was thrilled at the opportunity to teach – had been from the moment she and Jane had first come up with the idea of devising a specialized training program while discussing their professional future in light of the changes in their private lives. Both her and Jane's enthusiasm for their concept had infected even the high-ups in DC who were also glad for this chance to keep Jane with the Bureau. But at the moment, she really didn't want to leave Austin. "Still don't have to like it. I haven't seen Stan and Jimmy since the wedding and…"
"You will in five days," he butted in.
She sighed. "And I'm gonna miss you," she admitted quietly.
"I'm gonna miss you too," he replied. "So much. But at least it's the last workshop."
Lisbon nodded. "Yeah, fortunately. And the Abbotts have invited me to dinner on Wednesday. Will be so nice to see them again."
"You give Dennis and Lena my best. I really miss that guy. Who would've thought that back in Sacramento?" Jane mused.
She snorted. "Not me. He was so condescending back then. Never thought, he'd turn out to be one huge teddy bear."
"Or that he'd insist on us getting married at his place – sylvan theme and all." They shared a giggle at the memory.
Jane held out the hand that wasn't holding the steering wheel and she entwined their fingers. "Four months now and I couldn't be happier," Jane declared.
"Good," she said a bit teasingly, evoking another fond memory, "because I feel the same way."
Later that day during her lunch break after her first session, Lisbon received a couple of small video clips on her phone from her sister-in-law that made her laugh out loud in the middle of the cafeteria. For a moment she forgot everything about being a dignified special agent and soon-to-be FBI trainer and became the private individual Teresa Lisbon.
Her husband had made good on his word and had obviously secured Karen's assistance who had filmed the scam Jane had pulled on his two brothers-in-law.
The first clip featured her husband, three-piece-suit and all, holding a hammer as if it was a particularly fragile piece of china, making a show of proudly demonstrating his inability to drive home a nail without turning it into a sorry V shape – her loudly sneering and cheering brothers in the background making fun of their stuck-up prig of a brother-in-law.
There was a second one that had obviously been taken not long afterwards, depicting Stan in the Airstream, changing into his workwear and announcing boisterously how they'd show that dude how shit got done by the men in the Lisbon family.
It was the third one, however, which had made Lisbon almost lose her coffee. It showed her husband again, now sporting his usual remodeling outfit. He was handling skillfully some especially complicated looking tool, greeting the approaching Lisbon-brothers with the words, "Geez! Some fine craftsmen you are! I've already installed two knuckle joints while waiting for you two slow coaches. I sincerely hope, you two work faster than you change clothes or we won't get done even half of what I've planned."
Karen had caught Jimmy's and Stan's expressions of open-mouthed shock perfectly.
"And now you're catching the flies meant for our frogs. That's not exactly the kind of help I had hoped for," Jane kept teasing. The dumbfounded brothers stood gaping and gaping while Karen obviously had a hard time holding the camera steady because she was laughing so hard.
Half a country away, her sister-in-law joined her.
Over the next days Lisbon got photos and clips from the 'construction site' every few hours. The three men seemed to work together extremely well with Jane being a moderating influence whenever the two brothers got a bit too boisterous in their sibling bickering. And Lisbon was amazed to learn from Karen that Jane had accepted Stan as the 'site manager' without objection. In their nightly phone calls Lisbon couldn't stop telling her husband how proud she was of him and how delighted to watch him becoming a real part of her family.
She saw their second bathroom (or rather their master bathroom) taking shape. She saw Jimmy equipping their home with so many electric lines that Lisbon was sure, they could make the whole place light up like a Christmas tree. She also saw their front porch being expanded. She even saw Karen and the children trying to start on something like a vegetable garden. What she didn't see was the nursery and she was bursting with curiosity…
Finally Friday afternoon had arrived and Lisbon had not only finished her workshop but also received her official trainer certificate. Impatiently she sat on the plane, more than eager to get home. To her surprise (and slight disappointment) it was Karen and the kids who were waiting for her at the airport. Of course it was great to see her nephews and nieces and her sister-in-law but she had missed Jane something awful and really, really wanted one of his wonderful hugs.
Karen noticed how Lisbon's face fell a little even though the other woman had tried her best to cover it by returning the enthusiastic greetings from the kids in kind. "He truly wanted to come but there was some last-minute stuff to do and he was needed for it," Karen explained and linked arms with her husband's sister while she led them all to the parking lot. "The extra wait is worth it, Teresa, believe me."
"It just… It has been a long week," Lisbon replied with a sigh.
"He missed you too," Karen reassured her. "Looked like a lost puppy without you. That man is so in love with you, it's ridiculous." She chuckled and proceeded to organize children into car seats with the routine of a mother of four.
About thirty minutes later they arrived at the shack. Lisbon admired the improvements she could see on the outside and her eagerness to see the inside grew with every step that took her closer to the door. "T!" Stan shouted like a lunatic and lifted her off the ground in a bear hug the moment he saw her.
Ignoring her vocal protests, he handed her over to Jimmy who swung her around for good measure as if she was a doll. "James Adam Lisbon," she scolded him, "stop manhandling me immediately or I'll kick your butt all the way to Chicago!"
Not the least bit impressed her brother swirled her around yet another time after which she ended up in the arms of the person she wanted to be hugged by the most. Jane squeezed her as tight as was possible with her baby bump. "God, how I missed you!"
She buried her hands in his hair and pulled him into a deep kiss that let them both forget their company for a while. Of course, her immature brothers had to ruin the moment with a hail of catcalls. "Get a room, sis!" Stan shouted.
"I would, but I bet, you idiots didn't manage to build us one," Lisbon retorted, a small blush of embarrassment on her cheeks and a stubborn little crease between her eyes.
Her words got Jane into action. "Speaking of building rooms, my beautiful wife," he pecked her on the lips one last time, completely unfazed by the family's reaction to their little indiscretion, "there's something I want to show you." His happy smile almost split his face in two.
"I can't wait. I'm so curious," she admitted.
"We just added the finishing touches 10 minutes ago," her husband told her proudly. "I just hope, you'll like it as much as I do," he added a little less confident.
"Of course she will, Patrick," Karen reassured him. "It's gorgeous! I wished, my dork of a husband, a craftsman to boot, would have such wonderful ideas or even a smidgen of taste."
"Hey!" Stan complained.
Lisbon ignored her indignant brother, caressed Jane's cheek, smiled, and said, "Let's go and find out. I'm dying here…"
Jane led her to the nursery, holding her eyes covered with his hand much like he had done about five months ago when he'd first shown her the place she now called home. She was completely free of the insecurities from back then, however, and felt giddy with the pleasant anticipation of a nice surprise.
He removed his hands when they were standing in the middle of the room.
She gasped, eyes and mouth wide open in exultant delight. A girly squeal of glee that she would deny ever making escaped her.
"I suppose, you like it then?" her husband more stated than asked from right behind her, elation audible in his voice.
She turned towards him and hugged him with exuberance. "It's perfect, Jane. Perfect! Oh my god, it's so wonderful. I would've never… And… how? I mean… It's just… It's perfect…" she rambled, then released him to be free to wander around and take in all the details.
Her eyes shone with happiness and joy. Their daughter would have the best nursery in the world and even better: there was no one else who'd have a room like this – ever. Because her genius of a husband hadn't bought any run-of-the-mill unicorn pixie dust wallpaper or pathetic ducklings. No.
One wall was covered in an obviously custom-made wallpaper. Against a background of subtle, warm yellow there was a repeating pattern about 10 ft² in size, consisting of an image she was very familiar with: the picture she had drawn on the wall of her own bedroom back in Chicago when she'd been six or seven years old – a drawing showing a little, sunshine yellow house, a family, a dog, a car, flowers and trees.
Against that wall, there stood a crib in the same dark wood of the floorboards – one she and Jane had both deemed suitable when they'd studied all those catalogs.
The other walls of the room were painted in a warm green, matching exactly the color of the trees in her old "graffiti" and accentuating the one covered with the wallpaper perfectly. The window seat had been decked with a thick, soft cushion in the sunshine yellow of her little house, curtains in the same color hung above it. Made of the same wood and meshing with the design of the crib, a closet, a shelf, a rocking chair, and a changing table had been strategically placed in the room, a mobile, also obviously hand-made, hung above the latter. It depicted the family, the dog, and the car from her painting. In the middle of the room a lamp in the shape of a sun hung from the ceiling which was painted in the same light yellow that Jane had chosen as the background of the wallpaper.
She couldn't stop staring at the wallpaper. Who'd have thought that her old drawing would one day become the very image her daughter would wake up to every morning and which would hopefully fill her with sunshiny anticipation of a new, beautiful day in her life?
It was like her naïve childhood dreams of family and home that had given her a bit of comfort during some tough times had been turned into as much of her reality as was possible and she was speechless. She felt almost as if she needed to pinch herself in order to believe that this was true, that she was really standing there, seeing this.
And when she was about to sway, dizzy, overcome by emotion, she felt a solid presence behind her back and strong arms came around her waist, big, elegant, dexterous hands settling gently on her stomach and their daughter inside of it. "Welcome home, Teresa," her husband Patrick whispered into her ear.
The End