Sorry about the lengthy delay between chapters. Kind of a transition chapter, but I hope you like it anyway. Thanks for all of the reviews!

Chapter Three: The Usual

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Jane knocked on the door to Lisbon's apartment, waiting patiently as he heard movement inside.

A minute passed and he imagined Lisbon on the other side of the door, peering warily through the peep hole.

"Yes, Lisbon, it's me. And yes, I know you're in there so you may as well open the door," he said, voice raised just enough to be heard through the wood. Metal clicked against metal as he heard her unlock the various safety mechanisms. Really? Four? How necessary was that? He allowed an indulgent smile to play on his lips as he thought about her paranoia.

He remembered the many murder cases they investigated, that his own family had been killed despite the locks on the doors and windows, and suddenly he wasn't so amused at Lisbon's security fetish. In fact, he wondered if maybe she should have more.

The door swung open in time to catch the intensity of his gaze before he slid the amiable mask back into place. Lisbon, arms crossed, looked at him in that semi-defensive way she had. When she was curious, but didn't want to open herself up to any sort of intrusion on her privacy, her person.

"Why are you at my apartment, Jane?"

He smiled innocently. He hoped.

"Why, Lisbon. Isn't it normal for a friend to stop by with a pint of ice cream every once in a while?" He asked. She groaned and rubbed her hand against her forehead, knowing that her own words had left her wide open to this sort of assault. He took advantage of her momentary distraction and slipped past her into the apartment. Feeling him brush against her, she spun around.

"What the hell?"

"Ice cream's melting," he answered and headed straight for the kitchen. Her layout was so predictable.

If he remembered correctly, his wife had craved anything sweet during her pregnancy. At least before she really started showing. Maybe Lisbon…

Of course, that would be assuming she had already done it. For some reason his mind didn't like the irreversible feel of that statement. Thinking about his boss pregnant felt so…permanent. She'd be away for at least maternity leave. They'd have another (if only temporary) Senior Agent for their team. He wouldn't be able to irritate her, coax a blush from her smooth cheeks, anticipate a sentence from her quick tongue, see her almost everyday.

Well, why not, actually? Maybe he could slowly get her used to seeing him outside of work. He could stop over and help with the baby. She was bound to get tired.

Three a.m. wake up calls were only fun the first time. And, really, not even then.

But it had been so worth it. Every second. In fact, he'd willingly stay up every night if only he could do it again.

He shook those thoughts off. It was never good to go down that lane. One can't change the past, shouldn't look back to it.

But he was finally starting to understand that a person could look forward, that he could start feeling like he had a future again. Maybe. Possibly.

As he scooped the ice cream into bowls (which he easily found since he knew Lisbon so well—despite his recent discovery, he still firmly believed that), he noticed that Lisbon hadn't followed him into the kitchen.

Probably sitting on her couch, resigned to her fate. Perhaps a little bewildered at how she had landed in such a position. Suspicious of him. You know, the usual.

He grinned. Ah, it felt good to be back in control.

He carried the bowls out and found her exactly as he had expected. Couch, resigned, bewildered, and suspicious. The usual…well, the usual usually had him on the couch. Not her. But after the day he'd had, he decided he shouldn't be picky. This was close enough.

He presented a bowl to her with a flourish and, rolling her eyes, she accepted it. He mentally struck another point on the scoreboard of his brain. One of these days perhaps he'd let her get one in. Just so the mental scoreboard didn't look so pitiful on her side. Yes, he could be gracious.

She started to eat and after the silence reigned for at least three minutes, he spoke. "Been craving ice cream?"

…Oooookay. Maybe not the most subtle he'd ever been. But this was admittedly an odd situation. She raised her brows at him.

"Um, not really. I mean, it's good, but it's not like I've been dying for it," she answered slowly, eyeing him warily. He tried to assume his most innocent expression. Too bad that always seemed to set her more on edge.

He nodded understandingly. She must have other cravings. Now, he was almost positive that she had gone through with it. That she was pregnant. Otherwise, why would she act so out of character? Allowing him to sit on her couch, eating ice cream with hardly a comment about his lack of respect for her privacy?

He must have been silent for too long because when he looked up from his near empty bowl, he met her assessing gaze. He smiled charmingly. "Can't keep your eyes off me, my dear?"

"Did you need something, Jane?"

The truth. Your trust, he thought immediately. Of course, he was controlled enough not to blurt that out.

He knew she was asking why he was at her apartment like this. Never before had they done anything together outside of work or work get-togethers. He shrugged.

"You must be tired, Lisbon. I should go." He stood and hastily took their bowls into the kitchen, washing them out. She stood in the doorway, confused. Once he had dried his hands on a towel, he turned and gently motioned her to the hallway that he was sure led to her room. "Get some sleep. You need your rest."

The corner of her mouth twitched, a tell that she was confused about something. "Why do I nee—"

He cut her off. "Good night, Lisbon. Sleep well."

He was out the door before she could respond. He didn't want to get into it. He should really let her tell him on her own. Yes. He nodded to himself. He'd let her make the announcement to him and he'd be happy and cheerful and supportive. The perfect friend.

She would probably tell him this week. She had probably just found out recently that the procedure had worked. Yes, that was why she hadn't told him yet. She wanted to be sure. It wasn't because she didn't trust him (he firmly believed that, deep down, she trusted him). It wasn't because she thought he was simply a co-worker. She was just being Lisbon. Being thorough.

She would tell him this week, he was sure.