Baby Steps

Twenty months.

Twenty months, and he had just strolled back into the CBI building without a second though, as if he hadn't been missing, presumed dead for all this time.

Red John had come after them all with a vengeance, in particular, the women of the team. Lisbon was a good target because of Jane's more than obvious affection for her, and Grace was...well, it was the colour of her hair that made her a nice target for him. He always had been fascinated by the colour red. Needless to say, Jane and Rigsby had been fuming, and luckily they'd had the level headed Cho to stop them from knocking on every door in California to find and destroy the man who had been there. When they did track the serial killer down, they managed to get there just as he was about to bring a knife down on Grace. She wasn't part of the show, she was going to be the one who's blood created the daunting smiley face for when Jane arrived to find Lisbon. Luckily, however, Red John had underestimated them for once, and they had arrived before any blood could be shed.

Cho had untied the two of them while Jane distracted Red John, and as Jane had instructed them to, they all left him alone with the killer. Lisbon hadn't been happy about it, pleading with him to walk away, but he couldn't. Rigsby had loaded them into the back of his car, wrapping them in blankets and passing them water, waiting to flag down the mandatory ambulance and extra police support units they'd requested to stop him from joining Jane. After all, Rigsby had his wife back safe and sound (on their second wedding anniversary, no less) and no blood had been shed. Jane's vendetta ran much deeper than his.

When the back up units had arrived, they had gone back into the abandoned warehouse where Red John was, but there was nothing there. Red John was gone. Jane was gone. All that was left as evidence of their encounter was a blood red smiley face on the wall that hadn't been there before. No body. Lisbon had fought, insisting that someone had seen them leave, jumping between the role of victim and investigator incredibly quickly, but there had been nothing that they could do other than wait around for the forensics work to be completely.

They all thought it would break her when the blood on the smiley face was revealed to be Jane's blood.

Instead, it spurred her on. She began working long into the night, at first shunning other cases to try and find him but after Hightower explained that they weren't to continue in this way, she retreated to just spending every second of her free time chasing up impossible leads that she clutched to like a family heirloom. They watched her like clockwork, waiting for her to break and accept the possibility that Jane could be dead, but it never happened. Something was motivating her, and it took several long weeks before they found out what that something was.

They helped her with her desperation to find him, but after months of searching they had to give up when Lisbon's strength deserted her. Ironically, she was the only one who continued looking after that point. Even when they finally caught Red John, shooting him to save Cho's life this time, Jane was never found. Soon enough, though, she also had to admit that it didn't look like Jane was going to be returning. It had pained her terribly, and when she accepted this it had been the night when the tears had finally started to come. She blamed it on a number of things, but she knew that it was losing Jane that was scaring her to the point of tears. She was so used to him being fine, a constant presence of ok-ness, that she was struggling every time she saw that empty couch.

The team tried to distract her, to show her happier things so that she would stop staying at the CBI late at night, curling up on that empty couch because she found it easier than behind home alone. Grace and Rigsby lied about having nights out and needing a babysitter for their baby son, Jack, just so that Lisbon spent some time with her godson – though whenever she thought of herself in that role, she sadly remembered that one of little Jack's godfathers wasn't there. They called her at four am one morning when Jack had found his feet at last and started to toddle around. They had called her at midnight when he started to speak. They had deliberately bought their young son into the office one morning to find her on the couch, just to show off how Jack was starting to speak so eloquently – 'Resa', his new favourite word. Resa became Auntie Resa, and Lisbon had never bothered to get him to speak the first syllable of her name. They showed him pictures of Jane, marvelling how he grew from calling him 'Pawick' to 'Pat-tick', and eventually, on what would have been Jane's fortieth birthday – 'Patrick'.

But then all of a sudden, there he was. Even if he was twenty months late.

He was there now.

He had returned a little over an hour ago. He'd looked for her, but at the time she'd been out of the office collecting Jack and another toddler from pre-school. Cho had whisked him away to an interview room, wanting to find out what had happened before anyone else had a chance to ask more personal questions. When Lisbon returned , Grace relieved her of the two children and Rigsby had taken her into the observation room and she'd been stunned to see that the man through the glass, unaware of her presence, was indeed Patrick Jane. He told Cho how Red John had hidden him in the building for weeks, a side room that was so hidden by debris that none of them had ever found it, and then he'd been transported to some kind of cell, where Red John kept him and tortured him for months. Then when Red John was killed, he had forced himself to find an escape, only when he did the exhaustion, hunger and starvation caused him to collapse. He'd ended up in hospital in a small town outside of Seattle, where he was being treated for amnesia which he'd suffered through the trauma.

But then it came back, he told them. One morning three days ago he had woken up, remembered everything and every one, and started working his way down to Sacramento.

At this, Lisbon wanted to go into the interview room and fall into his arms, hold him until her limbs ached, but she couldn't. Things were more complicated than that now. Twenty months was a long time, and as much as she'd missed him, and yes, as much as she loved him, there were things that needed dealing with first. Things had changed. Many things. Massive, huge, life changing things.

She'd stood in the kitchen area with Grace, who was feeding the two children the closest thing to a dinner she could provide in the CBI kitchen, wondering what to do until Grace had practically forced her into going to talk to him. She supposed that Grace had ever right to kick her out of the room and literally make her do this, because she had been the one who had listened when Lisbon had broken down and needed Jane the most. Grace had been her strong shoulder at a time when she couldn't admit that she needed one.

Jane was sat on his couch, testing the cushions and attempting to get comfortable as if familiarising himself with an old friend. People had lied for her, telling him that she was out in the field and wouldn't be back for hours. Cho even pretended to keep calling her, leaving her messages, and she suspected that perhaps more of Jane had been affected by this ordeal than he was letting on, because he never once realised what they were all doing. And now, two hours after he had arrived in the building, it was time to do more than stare at the man who had once captivated her. After all, she knew it wouldn't be long until Jane got bored with waiting in one place for her and just turned up at her apartment that night.

Gathering up all her strength she walked towards the couch, ignoring the whispered 'good luck' Rigsby murmured to her on his way to the kitchen. She held in her hands a mug of tea, his usual cup and saucer, which she set on the small table by his head. Jane, who had his eyes closed, smiled at the aroma now surrounding him.

"Tea," he whispered with his eyes closed, recognising the scene. He sniffed again. "...and cinnamon."

At the word cinnamon, he opened his eyes, finding Lisbon standing right in front of him. Without a second thought, he launched himself off the couch, holding her in his arms and crushing her against him. He'd waited too long to hold her again and he wasn't going to waste another second. Being back in each others arms, being so close, after fearing they'd never see each other again bought staggering warmth to the hug.

Jane only released her from his arms so that he could pull back and see her face. He kept one arm wrapped her waist, the other coming up so that he couch touch her face, reassuring himself that she was real. "God, I've missed you," he told her. It was the first time he'd spoken directly to her in almost two years. The last time she heard his voice was when he was pleading with her to leave, shooting her tiny glances out of the corner of his eye as not to take his glance away from the serial killer.

"I can't believe you're here," she breathed, taking in the extra scars that were present around his wrists and face, one tell-tale scar on his throat, dangerously close to his jugular, made her shudder.

"I had to come home," he said, bringing her back into his arms and inhaling deeply. "As soon as I remembered, I got here as soon as I could."

"Good thing you remembered," she half-shrugged in his embrace.

"I'm ashamed I even forgot," he sighed. "How could anyone forget someone like you? What we've been through? How we feel about each other?"

"How do you feel?" she asked him. "I'm sorry to jump this on you right away, but I have to know what that night meant to you."

Ah, that night. That night she'd remembered every night for the past twenty months. That night had moved her world and made her feel safe in an unsafe place. That night, less than twenty four hours before she had last seen Jane, when she had finally confessed that she cared about him. She'd been expecting him to withdraw and shun her, but instead she found herself lead towards her own bed, with him joining her within seconds. There was no sleep that night, nothing but whispered words, sweet caresses and knee-trembling passion. Temptation had overpowered them as they shared one night together before being torn apart.

"It meant everything," he whispered to her, and she knew that he wouldn't yet understand how much of a weight of her shoulders his words were.

"You don't regret it?" she checked.

"Not at all. Do you?"

She shook her head. "It changed everything," she said, wishing he could immediately understand what she meant by that. "But it got me through the hardest days, and I don't regret it for a single second."

"Me either," he said, shaking his head. "Teresa, I...I still love you. I do. That didn't stop just because I wasn't here."

She bit her lip. "You still..."

"Of course," he nodded firmly. "How could I have stopped? You were the only thing that kept me holding on. You were all I had to come home to."

She sighed, pressing her face into his shoulder. "I never stopped either," she whispered.

He smiled, raising her face so that he could kiss her. It was only soft to start with, but when the familiarity of lips moving against each other started to return they began to pull each other closer, wanting to remind themselves how it felt to be held so strongly by love. However, before she could lose herself in him completely, Lisbon had pulled away from him. His lips on hers would have been enough to distract her from the world ending, but there were things that needed to be settled before she found her temptations rebuilding once again.

"What's wrong?" he asked her, noticing that she was trembling slightly.

"Nothing..I uh..I have something that I need to talk to you about," she said uneasily.

"What is it?" he asked, terrified that she was going to reject him, or worse, tell him that she was seeing somebody else. He couldn't deal with that, not after so long wishing to be with her again. She tried to explain, opening her mouth and letting out exhales instead before she simply tugged on his hand. "Lisbon?"

"It's easier just to show you," she told him.

He followed her lead, and they found themselves going into the kitchen. Grace was still there with the two children, and Rigsby had now joined her. He was holding his little boy on his hip, the three year old toddler playing with his dad's collar, trying to bend it in different directions and make it look messy while the elder man spoke to the redhead beside him. He'd been thrilled to see the team again, but seeing his godson, who recognised him from pictures alone, had been exhilarating for him. The fact that the boy was now running around and talking just proved how long he had been away for. Before he had a chance to see Grace standing in the kitchen, though, he found Lisbon suddenly tugging him backwards again.

"Before we do this, I need you to promise me something," she said quickly, and he could see that her nerves were rising.

"Anything," he said softly.

"I need you to promise that you are not going to freak out on me," she said, bringing her hands up to her stomach and wringing them around together, as if she feared her fingers might disintegrate if she didn't keep them active.

He frowned. "Why would I freak out about anything?"

"Trust me, I freaked out with this," she continued nervously. "I know you're probably entitled to a moment of freaking, but I've needed you so much in the past two years and you haven't been here..."

"Whatever it is, I'm sure it's not that bad," he smiled at her, cutting her off from her nervous rambling.

She smiled, and for a moment a look a peace came over her eyes. "Actually, I think it's one of the best things that's ever happened to me."

She turned and headed into the kitchen and he followed after her. He smiled at Rigsby and little Jack, who watched as he saw Grace and approached her. Not a thing about her had changed, and she didn't look the slightest bit different from when he last saw her. It didn't surprise him, but Lisbon had looked different when he thought about it, but he hadn't been able to pin what it was that wasn't the same about her. The thing that attracted his attention, however, was the second child that was gathered up in Grace's arms, not quite a toddler, but not quite a baby anymore either.

"Grace, it's so lovely to see you," Jane said, giving her a welcoming kiss on the cheek before turning his head to the child in her arms. "You had another baby...and a little girl," he whispered in awe, attracting the girl in questions' attention. "Hello there, beautiful. Aren't you a sweet thing?"

Grace made a strange noise and looked towards Lisbon who stepped up. They passed the child between them and the little girl settled comfortably. Straight away, Jane noticed that she looked more at home in Lisbon's arms. "Actually...I had a baby," she confirmed.

He felt all the air leave his chest, shocking him so deeply that all he could do was stare. His eyes fell instantly upon this child. Lisbon's child. It was a daughter, he could see that. She was wearing a tiny pink dress over a white sleepsuit, and had dark hair, whispy, but still rather long considering how small she was, that skimmed down the bottom of her scalp in the same way that Lisbon's did. The others noticed the tension in the room, and knew that the pair obviously needed some time alone so that Lisbon could properly explain things to Jane. Taking Jack, they left the kitchen, and once Lisbon found herself alone with Jane again she felt her nervousness returning. All the while, the little girl played with Lisbon's hair, finding a small lock that was within her reach and playing with it in her fingers as she often did.

"Is she..."

"Yeah, she's yours," Lisbon nodded. "Ours."

Jane looked shocked, but through his shock a smile formed and he approached Lisbon slowly. "Oh my god...I...I can't believe it..."

"Neither could I," she said. "I had eight months to get used to it, though."

"Only eight?" he asked, a concerned from crossing his face. "Was she premature?"

"No, I found out when I was four weeks pregnant," she said.

"So...the birth, everything was ok?" he asked, no longer worrying about the effects to her or the child by an early birth, yet still wishing that he could have been there. He was this child's father. This was something that he should have experienced. He should have been there.

"Yeah, it hurt like hell though," she grimaced. "Grace was with me, she stayed for the whole time."

Before Lisbon could say anything else, the little girl in her arms started to grumble. Looking up at her mother, she obviously tried to tell her something. What impressed Jane was how easily Lisbon knew what her child was trying to tell her. Motherhood suited her beautifully. He wished that he could have been there to see her holding the newborn against her, hearing the newborn cry, watching her stomach expand as the baby grew within her.

"She needs changing," she said, leading them into her office where she closed the door and went over to the corner, where she pulled out a changing mat and knelt on the floor.

Unsure of what else to do, Jane sat close to them on Lisbon's couch, curiously looking down at the little girl who he'd just learnt was his daughter. In return, the baby looked up at him with blue eyes – his own crystal blue eyes. While Lisbon was changing her, Jane leaned down and the little girl grabbed his finger, locking their gaze together. "What's her name?" he asked softly, never taking his eyes away from the girl he'd missed out on so much already. She had his nose as well, he noticed, but her mother's cheekbones.

"I was terrible at coming up with a name," she remembered with a tiny laugh. "Grace suggested a new one to me every day of my pregnancy, and the morning I went into labour she suggested the one we stuck with. Her name is Lauren Claire Jane."

"Claire..." he whispered softly, lost for a moment.

And Lisbon's face turned a little awkward. "I hope you didn't mind..." she started, trailing of when she realised she hadn't considered her choosing her daughter's middle name as his first daughter's name. He was smiling, however.

"I like it," he nodded, mesmerised by the baby. "Lauren. It suits her. Beautiful," he muttered, as the baby made a cooing sound. "Tell me about her," he requested softly.

"She was born on the 19th February last year, so her birthday's coming up soon. I went into labour on the 18th, but she decided to stay put for a long time. Difficult from the start, like her father," she mused with a smile. "The team stayed in the corridor overnight, and Grace held my hand when Lauren was born. Rigsby said that he heard her crying when she came out, and that the sun was just starting to come up. She likes mashed up strawberries, but she's really fussy on bananas..."

"Because bananas are disgusting," Jane defended.

"She loves the ocean as well," Lisbon added. "We took her and Jack to the beach a month ago, and we were holding her so the waves washed over her feet. She cried whenever we tried to take her away from the sea. She has a habit of grabbing things and putting them in her mouth at the moment as well, but luckily if one of us doesn't catch her in time then Jack always takes the dangerous things away from her."

Jane smiled softly, and Lisbon stroked her finger down Lauren's cheek, and her daughter looked at her with a smile. "You've never been this quiet when I'm changing you before," she said in a sing-song voice. "Are you just showing off because daddy's here?"

"Wow, daddy," Jane repeated. "It feels strange to be called that again." At first, he had been so overwhelmed by the news that he was in shock, but now it was really sinking in, all because of that one word again. He was a father again. This beautiful child looking up at him was his daughter. His little girl. Another little wonder the perfect mix of her parents. His baby girl. Lauren Claire Jane.

Lisbon smiled at his reaction. "It could be worse, you could be 'grandpa'," she joked.

"It's a bit early to be thinking about that," he winced, and she could hear the worry in his voice. It was no secret that Jane had been a protective father, and when they found out she was expecting they all realised that, should Jane return (and she always insisted that he would), that he would be an extremely overprotective father, especially to another daughter.

"No, it's not," she shrugged off. "Grace and I have already decided that Jack is marrying her one day."

Jane's head whipped up quickly. "Excuse me?"

"Jack's the only boy who could keep up with her, if she's anything like you," she pointed out. "He's always following me around looking at her, picking up after her, trying to play with her. He's going to fall in love with her one day. He even calls her 'my Lauren'," she explained.

"Hmm..." he mused, frowning lightly. "We'll see about that."

Having finished changing the diaper, Lisbon lifted Lauren back into her arms, sitting the clean girl in her lap as she resumed the game she'd created with her mother's hair. Jane watched, smiling at how easily Lisbon seemed to hold Lauren. The child was made to fit into her arms, and he felt so sad to have missed out on the first year of his daughter's life.

"Muh...mummm...mummmmmmmy..."

Lisbon smiling, kissing her head. "That's right, honey, mommy."

"She's talking?" Jane asked, having snapped out of his mild trance as Lauren had mumbled very clearly the word 'mommy'.

She nodded. "Her first words were three weeks ago. She hasn't stopped since. She's not making much sense but she's trying."

"What were they?" he asked curiously, transfixed by the beautiful girl. "The very first ones?"

She suddenly looked rather embarrassed, the blush he had missed settling on her cheeks. "I was talking about you," she admitted. "I always knew that you'd come back, or that we'd find you, I just didn't know when. So I always talked to her about you and showed her pictures so that she'd know who you were when you came back...and out of the blue, she just said 'da-da'."

The genuine pride on Jane's face was enough to convince Lisbon that no matter how many doubts she'd had in the past twenty months, this moment was worth it. "Wow," he whispered rather emotionally.

He should have been there, he thought again. He had missed out on her first words, what else had he missed out on? He'd been slowly rotting in Red John's cell with nothing but a fading hope of escape, and during this time his daughter had opened her eyes for the first time. He hadn't been there to hold her in the night when she cried, or to change her diapers so that Lisbon could get some sleep, or to bathe her in the kitchen sink. He'd not even been there when Lisbon was carrying her, to convince her that everything was going to be ok, and that nothing bad was going to happen. He wasn't there to cater to her strange cravings that she'd probably been unable to satisfy because she'd have continued working as long as possible, or to help her through the more emotional times and assure her that their child would be born into a home of love and affection.

"I'm so sorry, Teresa," he whispered, and she looked up at him to see a clearly devastated expression replacing the smile that had previously been there.

"Patrick..."

"No, I'm sorry," he insisted. "I'm sorry I wasn't here for you. For her. I'm sorry that I've missed all of this."

"It's ok," she said softly. "I knew you'd come back eventually, so we took so many pictures and I wrote everything down. I have a book at home, kinda like a scrapbook I guess, of places we've taken her, things like that."

He nodded, making a mental note to study the book to memory once he got his hands on it. But for now, he settled with looking at his daughter again. "Can...can I hold her?" he asked tentatively.

She smiled. "I think it's about time. Hold on, let her come to you on her own, she loves crawling around."

She released Lauren from her arms, setting her down on the ground as Jane opened his arms to encourage her towards him. He moved from the couch onto the floor so that he was at her level. For a moment she just stared back at him, and then Lisbon gently nudged her in Jane's direction. Lauren started to crawl away from her mother's legs, and then turned, using Lisbon's knees to pull herself to her feet.

"She's been trying to balance on her own for a few days now," Lisbon told him. "She's not really got her co-ordination yet though."

However, as she spoke, Lauren moved away from her – still on her feet. Lisbon's jaw dropped as her little girl started taking steps towards her father, outstretching her arms in the same way Jane was doing. "Oh my god," Lisbon gasped.

"Are these her first steps?" Jane asked, as Lauren began to falter and slow.

"Yeah," she whispered, and he could hear the emotion in her voice. Lisbon was amazed at the sight, even though the little girl was about to tumble onto her backside. This was her child, their child, taking her first unaided steps on her own two feet.

Instead of tumbling, however, Lauren leant forwards, and the shift in weight encouraged her tiny legs to toddle faster ahead of herself. She would have fallen forwards were it not for Jane enveloping her in his arms as soon as she had reached him, tears pricking in the corner of his eyes. He was exhausted beyond belief, but he knew that the real reason for the tears was because of the overwhelming emotions that he felt right now. He'd known his daughter for a grand total of six minutes and thirty-five seconds, and he was already holding her like he'd done so for a thousand times, knowing that no matter what she did he would always love her.

Lauren stared deeply at him, mirroring his own blue eyes, before she patted her hand on his cheek – so tiny, so fragile. "Dad-dad?"

Lisbon gasped, and the emotion overtook Jane. Hearing his daughter calling him 'dad-dad' for the first time bought back all the emotions it had done the first time, and a tear slid down his cheek. She knew who he was. She'd never met him before, only ever in photographs and bedtime stories she didn't quite understand, but something about him made her know that this was her father. He nodded, stroking her dark hair, never wanting to let this beautiful child out of his arms.

"Yeah, sweetheart, daddy's home now," he choked out over the thick lump in his throat.

"Ho...home," she repeated determinedly. He let out a tiny laugh when he realised that she'd inherited that expression from her mother.

Lisbon watched with a smile at the sight of what she sometimes thought she'd never see, realising that it had been worth it all just to see the sweetness and love in the tears that dropped from Jane's cheeks and fall into Lauren's hair. Jane had come home. It had taken him twenty months, and there was a lot of things he had missed, but there was also a lot ahead of them now. Of course, it was going to get to a steady place with the three of them, but for now, they'd get by with taking baby steps towards the family they deserved to be.

After all, if Lauren could do it, why couldn't they?

END.