Thanks for the reviews for chapter 9! I'm glad you enjoyed the fluffy parts of it, because I'm afraid this chapter is even fluffier. Enjoy anyway!
By the way, there's only one chapter left after this one (or maybe additionally a short epilogue, but I'm still undecided about this). Just thought I let you know, so you can get used to the idea that this story is over soon. ;)
Rays of the bright morning sun find their way through the drawn curtains of the bedroom window and tickle Teresa's nose. Slowly, stretching her bed-warm feet under the blanket with relish, she opens her eyes and smiles. It's been a while since she felt that comfortable and happy and well rested. In fact, getting more awake, she can't remember the last time she felt this content right after waking up.
One of the reasons for her good mood - or, to be honest, the main reason - is lying right next to her. Cautiously she turns around, in gleeful anticipation of seeing Patrick's peaceful face or perky smile, depending on whether he is still sleeping or already awake. She is met with a sight she didn't expect: The imprint of Patrick's head is still visible on the pillow, the man himself, however, is gone.
Teresa reaches over to trace the shape on the pillow with her index finger, wondering what this means. Did he get up already right after she fell asleep or did he leave only minutes ago? And if he spent most of the night in his own bed, does that mean he wanted her to reply to his confession right away after all and is now disappointed? She jerks up. He wouldn't leave her completely, would he?
She glances at the clock on her nightstand. 8.37 AM. He probably only went to work. Wait, work? That's the place she is supposed to be as well, for over one and a half hours already. Damn. Why didn't he wake her up?
Quickly she gets out of bed and is just looking through her clothes to decide what to wear today, when she hears a noise downstairs - a noise that sounds suspiciously like clashing pots and pans. Teresa sticks her head out of the door and her nostrils immediately fill with the delicious smell of food. Pancakes. Bacon. Toast. And is this mouth-watering aroma hot chocolate? Being suddenly very hungry, Teresa heads down the stair and stops at the open kitchen door.
Patrick, still oblivious to her presence, seems determined to make enough breakfast to feed the whole neighborhood. For a while, she enjoys watching him rummaging through the cupboards, cracking eggs and twirling pancakes, before her hunger gets the better of her.
"Are you expecting guests for breakfast?" She asks, not even trying to hide her amusement, and enters the room.
He smiles when he notices her presence and motions to her to sit down. "Good morning. I'm only expecting you. You're just in time. "
Kneeling down, he places his hands on her pregnant belly. "Good morning, Sullivan."
"Wow, what a response!" He adds with a proud smile when his son forcefully kicks against his palms.
"Yeah, he's just in the middle of his morning exercises. Or maybe he's hungry. Because surely I am. This smells incredible."
"I guess I went way overboard." He tells her sheepishly, referring to the great variety of food on the table and the kitchen counter. "But I thought we need a nice breakfast after not eating much yesterday. What are you in the mood for?"
Teresa finds it incredibly hard to decide for only one thing and, after glancing at all the bowls and plates and trays, she gives in to seduction. "A little bit of everything, maybe?"
"I was hoping you'd say that." He cheerfully exclaims, already overloading her plate with various types of breakfast food.
He fills a plate for himself as well and sits down next to her. "How do you feel this morning?"
"Great. I slept really well last night. I think having you in my bed made all the difference." She teases him, although there is an underlying seriousness in her voice.
His eyes sparkle with surprise, and with something else. Delight? Probably. And a tiny hint of insecurity resonates somewhere in the mix of emotions as well. "Yeah?"
She hurries to nod, resolutely and honestly, and the insecurity in his look is replaced by joy. This day promises to be a good one for them, Teresa is sure of that. Too bad that they can't just stay at home today.
"I really appreciate the feast you dished up, this is all absolutely delicious. But you do know that we should be at work now, right?" She forces herself to say and to ruin the perfect complacency of the moment.
"That's okay. I explained what happened yesterday and already excused us for the whole day."
"What?"
"I called at work. We don't have to go there today." He specifies, oblivious to the gasp that escapes her mouth after his revelation. "Grace wants me to tell you that she's glad you and the baby are okay and even Minelli was very worried about you."
"You talked to Minelli?!" Oh, no. She's in for trouble, she can feel it. There goes her hope to keep Minelli in the dark about her and Patrick until he's not her boss anymore. "Didn't he find it weird that you called in sick for me and then took the day off as well?"
"Why would he? I'm the father of your baby." Patrick nonchalantly replies, forking a piece of pancake to drown it in maple syrup.
"Yes, but Minelli doesn't know that." God, she hopes he doesn't. " If he would, he'd have called me to his office to give me a stern talk about official regulations and keeping work and private life apart."
"Don't worry about that." He waves her worries away, seemingly thinking she's overreacting. "He already tried to impose that talk on me a while ago. After reminding him that I'm not an agent and promising to not make out with you in front of him or the D.A., he gave up."
If this wouldn't be about her and if she wouldn't be so confused, she'd find this funny. But right now the idea of laughing doesn't cross her mind. "When did this man-to-man talk happen?"
"Right after you told him that you're pregnant. I went to him to ask if I can get some time off to be with you after the baby is born and one thing led to the next."
Her thoughts go back to the moment when Patrick waited for her outside Minelli's office and later went in there himself. "I thought you went into his office to test the couch."
"Oh, I was on the couch for the whole talk. Really great couch." He beams. "You have to convince Minelli to leave it there when he goes."
She simply stares at him, trying to process the information she just gathered. Minelli did look at her and Patrick with a weird expression a couple of times since she announced her pregnancy, that much is true. There was this one time when Minelli entered her office without knocking and, upon seeing Patrick in there with her, scowled and left without saying a word.
She blamed it on her boss having trouble to cope with her pregnancy. Kind of like an older, grumpier version of Rigsby. Apparently she was wrong. Her boss knew all the time that Patrick is the father of her baby, long before even her team knew.
"You are angry." He states when she finally looks up at him, searching her face for indications that it would be safer for him to run and hide from her wrath.
After some quick soul-searching, Teresa comes to the conclusion that anger is not what she feels. "No, I'm just confused. Minelli is fine with us, sort of?"
"Don't worry about Minelli, I have a pretty tangible hunch that he cares a lot more about your happiness than about official regulations."
"Yeah, right." She snorts, but then she remembers how her boss offered her to consider him as a grandpa substitute for her baby.
"Okay, maybe you are right." She gives in. After all, there are more important matters to discuss now. "Are you serious about wanting to stay at home with me and the baby?"
"Yes. I guess I should have asked you first, but I didn't want to give you a chance to say no. Do you think it's a bad idea?" He anxiously asks her.
Teresa relives her emotions after not finding him in her bed this morning and, based on that feeling, she realizes that she wants to spend as much time with him as possible. "No, I think it will be nice to be home together. But can we afford this?"
"Don't worry about that. We can. There's money left from selling my house."
"Okay, then this is settled." She affirms with a smile and adds, "Thank you."
This takes him totally by surprise, if his stunned expression is any indication. "What for?"
"Just for being you. I don't know how I'd get through all this without you." Teresa tells him, wholeheartedly.
"Meh, you would." He shrugs it off, trying to hide how much her words touch him, but is not quite succeeding. "You're one of the most determined and strong people I know."
"Maybe. But it would be much less fun." She smiles at him, before turning her attention back to the food on her plate.
They enjoy the rest of their breakfast, alternating between chatting and silently eating. Teresa notices that the kitchen looks especially beautiful and homey at this hour of the day. It provides the right atmosphere for a wonderful breakfast with her best friend on this almost perfect morning. She studies Patrick's face, listens to him excessively gushing over the best stroller in the recent test of a consumer magazine, and knows that it takes only one rectification to make this day truly perfect.
Before she can voice her thoughts, Patrick asks her what she wants to do today. His suggestion to put up furniture for the baby is not quite what she has in mind.
"You know, I've been thinking." She begins."Your room gets much more light and it's also a little bigger. Maybe it would be better to turn that one into Sullivan's room?"
"You think? Ehm, sure. I can take the other room." He hesitantly concedes.
"No, I think the other room could be a great place for books, I always wanted my own small library." She continues, showing him the most innocent facial expression she can muster up. "Or I could picture it as a walk-in closet."
His look is so dumbfounded, that she has a hard time to stop herself from laughing. "You want me to move into the guest room downstairs? I don't like that idea, it's too far away from you and the baby."
"You are right, you can't live in the guest room." Teresa reassures him, allowing him to breathe more easily, before striking again. "Where would the guests sleep then?"
He looks as if she slapped him. Seeing him so alert and somber makes her feel guilty about her little scheme. "What is wrong, Teresa? Are you getting cold feet? I thought it was going really well. I think I did a good job as a friend and father-to-be so far. A great job even. Are you firing me now after all we've been through?"
"I'm not firing you. I'm promoting you." She tells him in a very gentle voice, hoping that he finally understands what she's up to.
Instead, he looks even more thunderstruck. "You're promoting me?"
How can a man, who earns a living discovering people's deep, dark secrets by simply looking at them, be so clueless? He is adorable though in his confusion and she can't help smiling. Instead of wasting any more words, she decides to demonstrate her intentions.
Leaning forward, she cups his face with her hands and places a soft kiss on his lips. It takes a few seconds before he recovers from the initial shock, but then he responds eagerly. During all the months of keeping their relationship strictly platonic, she never forgot how his lips felt on hers. But still, her newfound clarity of emotions makes this kiss feel as if it would be their very first one.
"Does that mean you want to turn your bedroom into ours?" He whispers against her lips after a couple of blissful minutes, hardly able to stay away long enough to complete the sentence.
"Yes." She dreamily mumbles and recaptures his lips.
After what feels like hours of kissing, he breathlessly breaks contact again and flashes her a lovestruck smile that probably matches the one on her own face. "And you want to be more than just friends and parents?"
She nods. "Much more."
Patrick slides his tongue along her bottom lip, sensually and encouragingly. She parts her lips in response, moaning softly as his tongue starts dancing with hers. Not breaking the kiss, he gets up from his chair and pulls her with him. She sighs and turns her body toward him, linking her arms around his neck. They both chuckle, when her belly gets in contact with his stomach. It makes kissing in a standing position a little uncomfortable, but that doesn't stop them.
Soon Teresa experiences a familiar prickle of excitement. She caresses the nape of Patrick's neck and feels him smile against her lips, but then he suddenly pulls his head back.
"And you're really sure about us?" He asks cautiously, looking gorgeous with his cheeks flushed and his lips wet.
"Absolutely." She reassures him, sincerely. She knows now without a doubt that being with him is what she wants.
"Good. I already started to get nightmares about us still only being roomies ten years from now and me having to scare away all your dates."
Seriously, can't this man just stop talking in a situation like this? She dramatically rolls her eyes and he catches her off guard with another mind-blowing kiss. Amazed at how many emotions at once he evokes inside of her, she feels the heat creep up in her face and surge through her whole body. When his hand slips under her top and traces the underside of her left breast, she abruptly comes to her senses.
"Wait." She breathlessly stops him, pulling away. "We can't do this."
"Huh?" He looks as if he just woke up from a beautiful dream and is all of a sudden faced with the dreary reality.
"Oh. Right. Doctor's order. You had to wait to make up your mind until we can't celebrate it anymore, huh?" He teases her, tenderly stroking her belly.
She presses her forehead against his. "Believe me, I want this just as much as you do."
He slowly detaches from her arms and looks at her with an expression which tells her that he just comes up with one of his brilliant plans. Oh, no.
"Where is the calling card Dr. Parker gave us?" He asks, confusing her.
"At the pin board in the hall. Why?"
He leaves the room, picking up the phone on the way, and already dials when she catches up with him.
"What are you doing?" She asks, slightly agitated.
Instead of answering her question, he holds up his free hand to signal her to just wait and watch the Patrick Jane show.
"Hello? Hi, my name is Patrick Jane. Can I speak with Dr. Parker, please?" For a few seconds he listens to the voice on the other end of the line and Teresa grins at the thought that he might talk to Nurse Grumpy.
"Yes, it is an emergency." He finally continues, ignoring Teresa's incredulous stare. "Hi, Dr. Parker. My name is Patrick Jane. My girlfriend..."
He smirks at Teresa.
".. and I were at the hospital yesterday. Her name is Teresa Lisbon and... Yes, right. That's us. You said we can call you anytime and, well, I have a question. You said that we should refrain from sexual intercourse and I was wondering if this includes all sexual activities."
Teresa gasps, which apparently amuses Patrick immensely.
"Aha. Yes, I understand. You were a great help, Dr. Parker. Thank you. Thanks, will do. Bye!" He finally hangs up and grinningly faces his head-shaking girlfriend. "Dr. Parker says 'hi'."
"I can't believe you called a doctor for sex advice."
He rewards this with a dismissive wave of his hand. "I bet she gets that all the time."
"I kind of doubt it." Teresa tells him, now laughing because of the absurdity of the situation. And, she has to admit, she is a little curious about the outcome of the phone call. "Well, what did she say?"
"She still thinks it's inadvisable to really sleep with each other because it can cause bleeding. But, the good news is, we don't have to keep our hands off each other completely. She even said that sexual satisfaction is the best method for you to relax." He announces perkily.
"She did not say that!"
"Yes, she did. With more complicated words, but the message was clear." A seductive smile begins to form on his lips and he steps closer to her, as close as her belly makes it possible. "Now, what do you say? My bedroom or yours?"
"Seeing that your bedroom has the charm of a prison cell, I'm voting for mine. Or better, ours."
They don't make it up the stairs without taking a break or two for kissing. When they finally reach the bedroom, Teresa begins to feel nervous. She really wants to be with him, wants to touch him and be touched by him. But it's been months since she had any sexual contact and a lot of things are different than they were then. She has changed, as well as her feelings and most importantly her body.
For a moment she wonders how Patrick can even find her attractive at all, seeing that she rather looks like a walrus than like a woman these days. Apparently, he doesn't share her concerns, as he begins to apply measured kisses along her jawline and throat. He gives her light blue pajama top a tug and she slithers out of it, the cool air of the room and his intent gaze making her momentarily shiver.
Reaching for the waistband of her pants, he places a soft kiss on her stomach, before pushing them down with leisurely hands. She steps out of the pants and he takes in the sight of her naked body in broad daylight, making her shy with the awareness that she was slender and bathed in dimness when he last saw her in the nude. He releases her when he strips down himself and closes the distance between them.
"You are stunningly beautiful." He tells her, burying his face at the crock of her neck. "No need to blush, it's the truth."
They stand in the middle of the room, doing nothing but holding each other, until Patrick starts kissing the top of her head, and then, with slow reverence, her lips. "You have no idea how glad I am that you changed your mind." He whispers so softly that she almost doesn't hear his words.
"I have a pretty good idea." She tells him, glancing down at his body and cheekily raising an eyebrow at the sight of how excited he is to be with her.
Their lips meet again and they slowly stumble towards the bed and fall on it in a messy heap of limbs and skin, but always careful to protect Teresa's pregnant belly from damage. Patrick rolls them onto their sides and gently begins to touch her breasts, his eyes awaiting confirmation that the caress is comfortable for her.
She arches into his hands, feeling arousal spreading inside of her as his fingertips feathery stroke her nipples. Like a blind woman exploring an unknown face, she slowly touches every inch of his chest and then moves on to trace the dimple of his navel.
For a long time, they let their hands and tongues do the talking, an occasional sigh or copious moan being the only sounds to escape their throats. Surprised, Teresa discovers that pregnancy isn't hindering for having a fulfilled love life, quite contrary even.
Afterwards, they lie under the covers face to face, simply smiling at each other and enjoying their togetherness.
"You okay?" He asks, startled by tears suddenly gleaming in her eyes.
"I'm happy." Looking into this eyes, she realizes that she doesn't need many, complicated words or a lengthy, sophisticated speech to let him know how she feels. It's pure and simple and surprisingly not scary at all.
"I love you." She says, plainly, and watches his eyes flicker.
He goes through a rainbow of emotions, starting with surprise and ending with rapture, before his face moves so close to hers that it blurs in front of her eyes.
"That's good." His lips softly touch hers and his eyelashes flutter against her cheek. "Because I love you, too."
"I really want this to work." Teresa tells him after he pulls away to look into her eyes again.
"It will."
"Yeah, I have a pretty good feeling about this as well." She smiles at him with newly discovered certainty.
"Hey, generally speaking, what is your opinion on the institution of marriage?" Apparently he is already one step ahead of her.
At first, she doesn't know whether to panic, or be happy. But after getting over the initial shock, she opts for smiling. "I'm not completely opposed to it. I think I'd look good in a wedding gown."
"Yes, you would."
"But," She clarifies. "I refuse to squeeze my pregnant belly into one."
"Noted. I'll save the big, pompous proposal until after the birth then." He tells her with a smirk and changes his position to rest his head on her belly.
She watches him talk to their son and feels his kisses tickling her skin, overwhelmed by the realization to really, finally feel completely at home.
"You really promised Minelli to keep your hands off me at work?" She asks flirtatiously. "Luckily I didn't. I don't really trust my hands, now that they acquired a serious liking for touching you."
She grins at him and gives in to the urge to bury her hands in his curls - partly to emphasize her statement, but mainly just because she finally can.