Okay I tried so hard to be as least vague as possible with my summary but I am still struggling haha. I'm planning for this to be a multi-chapter story with each chapter focused on a different subject pertaining to Jane and Lisbon's new relationship. This is going to be set post-Blue Bird, but I'm still working my way through re-watching the show and I'm only on season 4. I'll try to be as canon as possible but I've been trying to avoid spoilers (even though they're not really spoilers anymore) and I don't remember everything from the later seasons. Forgive me for any glaring continuity errors—I'll definitely go back and make edits as needed once I get through my entire re-watch!

This first chapter is pretty mild—no warnings or anything apply other than for strong language and substance use (alcohol, socially). I want to write a chapter about their sex life (hahaha) so that will probably be a higher rating but I will update the tags/notes accordingly. Also uploaded on AO3.

I. NICKNAMES

Endearing nicknames had always been a part of Jane's daily vocabulary. They stemmed from his days as a carnie, where they were crucial in sweetening up the marks (or audience, as a gentler way to put it). It was just in his nature to address people with "my dear," "darling," "angel," "sweetheart," "buttercup..." the list went on. The sweeter the better, the more effective at complementing his charm (and often facilitating his manipulation). It worked on people of all genders and of all ages. Who could resist a golden, handsome man's such flattering words?

One would never expect the answer to be his own girlfriend.

After over a decade of working with him, Lisbon had become quite desensitized to Jane's superficial terms of endearment. The "dear," the "doll," and the "princess" had all lost meaning to her many years ago. She knew they were used on everyone and carried no weight, other than to further Jane's ulterior motives. They stopped bothering her very early on, as she also caught on that the terms were instilled in his nature. Sure they were shallow, but so was the gentlemanly persona that was required of him to survive in show business and then later to become such a successful (albeit chaotic and troublesome) police consultant. His usual endearments didn't bother her. They just had no effect on her.

That was the case with his usual endearments anyway. She was so accustomed to them that her ears no longer registered them as anything significant. It was when he started using words like "baby," and "my love," and "my heart," that stirred something in her. Her mind picked up on these immediately as names he didn't normally use, which made sense since they were names reserved exclusively for significant others. One of which he had now—her.

Jane hadn't needed to consciously decide to start using them. Like the saccharine, high-yield names he bestowed upon the general population, they came up organically in conversation. The affection he felt for Lisbon produced a need to be expressed when he spoke to her. The first time he found himself calling her "my love," his mind took note of the fact that he hadn't called anyone that since his late wife. It didn't bring any guilt with it—he took comfort in the fact that he had someone who he genuinely loved in the present day. And gratitude in that this person loved him back.

Lisbon, on the other hand, did feel quite uncomfortable. The names were jarring to her, almost nonsensical. She didn't know what to make of these feelings at first—why was she surprised at her partner saying things that normal partners said?

Jane, of course, picked up on her hesitation. Not only did she not reciprocate the endearments, but she seemed visibly taken aback when he used them. He could tell she was trying to hide her discomfort, but was unsuccessful at repressing it entirely. Initially he attributed her awkwardness to simply the newness of the relationship and her not being yet adjusted to receiving such direct affection from him. Lisbon was a private person, but she wasn't a prude—Jane was sure she had used similar pet names, and likely more crude ones, with her past lovers. He surmised her evasion of them with him was related to how long they had been just good friends. He decided to give it some more time for Lisbon to come around.

One morning, after eight weeks had passed and she was still flinching (ever so slightly) at him greeting her with a 'Good morning, love' even after spending a night in the same bed as her, Jane figured it was time to confront the matter.

"Lisbon," he said, turning onto his side and propping his head up on an elbow to look down at her in bed. He kept his face neutral, free of any frowns or smiles that could be interpreted as teasing. "Is something the matter?"

She blinked at him slowly, her eyes still heavy with sleep and her head resistant to leaving the pillows. "Hmm?" It was almost a groan.

"Whenever I use a nickname for you, you react negatively towards it."

Lisbon scrunched her face and rubbed her eyes. Jane knew this wasn't exactly her topic of choice to discuss on a Saturday morning, even after a relatively light week. "What - what do you mean?" She was putting little effort into feigning ignorance because she knew it would be futile anyway.

"Like just now, when I said, 'Good morning, love.' You flinched."

"No I didn't." Again, with little effort into sounding incredulous.

"Come on, there's no use denying it to me. I saw it."

"Yeah, 'cause you know everything." Her eyes opened wider, awoken by irritation that was even more apparent in her voice.

Jane, who had been trying to be better about not pushing her when it was clear she didn't want to be pushed, dropped the matter then. He nodded quietly and pressed a kiss to her forehead before getting out of bed to make breakfast.

He didn't hold her abrasiveness against her—he knew he had hurt her a lot over the years and that it was going to take more than just a few months of being together to earn her trust again. Sometimes he feared it would never be possible for her to fully trust him given their history... but that was a worry for another time.

Although he was ready to let the matter rest for now in favor of getting on with their day, it still seemed to hang in Lisbon's mind as she made her way into the kitchen after taking a shower. She thanked him for the breakfast he put in front of her and made light conversation about the last week as the two of them ate. Despite this, Jane could tell her thoughts were preoccupied, and she was likely debating with herself whether or not to bring up the issue again.

It was her morning coffee that gave her the clarity to make the decision. "I'm sorry about earlier," she said as they were tag-teaming the dishes—him washing, her drying.

"About what?" Jane was the one who tried feigning ignorance this time.

"You know." She didn't look him in the eye, instead concentrating her gaze on the already-dry dish that she was somehow trying to dry more. "I was still pretty sleepy and I was caught off-guard. I'm sorry for shooting down your question like that."

"Oh, it's alright," he said, taking care to bite back the "dear" that was on its way to punctuate his sentence. She would have thought he was trying to get a rise out of her if he had included it. "It is pretty early." The microwave's clock beside them read 9:42am, but this was still quite early for Lisbon, who was not a morning person, especially on weekends.

She continued unprompted. "It's just still kinda... weird, y'know?"

"Hm, weird how?" It was taking them an unusually long time to wash just one meal's worth of dishware.

She gestured between them with her free hand. "You know... this. Us."

"Oh, I see. That we're together."

"Yeah. I guess my mind still hasn't totally wrapped around it yet."

"I understand."

"It's not like I don't like it," she said, pausing before she continued. "You know... you calling me things. I'm just not... used to it."

Jane nodded. "Yes, that makes sense."

"Mm-hm."

"Are you okay with me continuing to do it?" Jane asking for her permission on anything was also still quite new. She definitely appreciated his efforts to get her consent, and especially that this now extended to when they were working cases.

"Yeah."

"Okay." He could sense there was more that she wasn't telling him, but again decided not to push her further for the time being. "So, what do you wanna do this weekend?"

She thought for a moment. "The weather is going to be pretty nice. Wanna go hiking?"

Jane didn't like hiking much, but he liked hiking with Lisbon. He smiled agreeably. "Let's do it."

A few weeks passed before the matter of nicknames came up again. With Lisbon's permission, Jane had continued to use them, and she had continued to refrain from them. Pet names aside, he also started calling her more by her first name. She used his at times, but even after almost half a year together she still felt more comfortable with just "Jane." After all, that's who he had been to her for more than ten years.

They had just closed a high-profile case in Atlantic City and gone out to celebrate. It was nearing midnight, and the rest of the team had retired to their hotel rooms in preparation for their flight home the next morning. Lisbon had somehow allowed herself to let go of a good night's sleep in favor of hanging out with Jane at the tacky-but-yet-still-fancy Europe-themed casino lounge. It had been a long few weeks in New Jersey chasing down the ringmaster of a coastal human trafficking operation, and they had both been eager for a release. Jane usually didn't drink much, but the menu of cocktails named after various European capitals was intriguing, and he had been determined to survey as many of them as they could handle. He particularly liked "the Lisbon," a drink composed of (likely knock-off) Portuguese Beirão, pear syrup, lime, and a variety of spices that he became too inebriated to distinguish. Lisbon thought the "the Dublin" drink was better, but Jane insisted on "the Lisbon" because "it reminds me of someone I know."

Jane previously avoided getting too drunk because he needed his mind clear at all times on the lookout for Red John, and Lisbon hadn't thought it was professional to get wasted as the head of her unit. Now that those conditions were out of the way, the two of them were free to drink through as much of fake Europe as they pleased. They had been sitting in the same secluded lounge booth for a few hours now and were both quite drunk—definitely the most intoxicated they had ever been together since they had become a couple, and possibly the most intoxicated they had ever been together period.

"I wish Wayne and Grace were here," Jane remarked as they split a glass of "the Berlin." "They would have enjoyed this."

"What, these shitty drinks?" Lisbon snorted. "I feel like they could get these anywhere."

"Nahh. Drunking with us. Drinking with us, I mean. Seeing us drunk, together."

She laughed. "God no, that would be so embarrassing! I was their boss."

"Nah, they would love this. The Teresa Jane and Patrick Lisbon Show. Free admission. I mean Teresa Lisbon and-" he didn't bother to continue the correction as he got his point across. "Grace would have taken so many photos. She would have been like a... a high school yearbook blackmailer and tabloid paparazzi combined into one."

"Oh God, I would have been so fired," she said, thinking back to her days of responsibility and appearances as the authority figure, though it was all quite hazy at the moment. But she still played along. "Rigbsy would have been so damn emotional."

"You know it," Jane took the final swig of "the Berlin" and signaled the bartender to bring them a new order—this time the "Budapest." "The poor man would have cried."

"Tears all over the place. Would have started telling us about how beautiful and life-changing his post-college Europe tour was."

"Nah, come on woman. He would have been crying about us."

"Us!" she exclaimed incredulously. "Why would he be crying about us?"

"Well clearly because he's always wanted us to get together! This would have been like a fantasy for him. Not in a gross way. He's always pinned us as a couple."

"No, you're wrong." He thought she was going to deny that their former colleagues ever saw them together, but then she said, "Van Pelt was the piner."

"Yes, she was the obvious one. But Rigsby, he was the secret one, the real one."

She giggled and swatted at him playfully. "Why are we even talking about this?"

"Because we've gotten through all of Europe almost twice now and we're drunk off our behinds."

"You're drunk. I'm perfectly fine." Lisbon made a pretty good case—she definitely handled her alcohol a lot better than him—she wasn't yet slurring her speech or mixing up her words like he was. But she had to admit to herself that she was pretty drunk nevertheless.

"Whatever you say, muffin," he replied, grinning like a fool and kissing her sloppily on the cheek.

Lisbon's smile fell just a tiny bit at the use of yet another new term of endearment. Her intoxicated mind spun around indecisively for a moment, but eventually the Wheel of Feelings stopped with its tick placed on the slice labelled "Discomfort." She had been preoccupied with work for the past few weeks and hadn't really had time to think further about the issue, but now they were case-free and frankly, inhibition-free, and the multiple European cities of alcohol in her system gave her the push to address it again.

"You know, that's still really weird to me."

"Still?" Jane wasn't surprised—he had noticed her continued discomfort over the last few weeks but had left it up to her to decide when she wanted to talk about it again. He had been trying not to go overboard, but the drunk glasses his eyes were seeing through had pictured Lisbon as a cute little muffin. A part of his mind was still drunkenly trying to figure out what flavor she would be—probably chocolate chip, from her dark hair, or blueberry, just because that was his favorite.

"Yeah." She took a big sip of their current drink and paused. "There's more I haven't told you."

"Yeah, I know." His mind settled on blueberry. For sure.

She raised an eyebrow. "Really." Of course he knew. But he hadn't said anything, which surprised her. She realized he had been putting more effort into... respecting her boundaries than she thought.

Considering this, she rested an elbow on the table and propped her chin up with her hand, leaning in closer to Jane beside her until she could smell the alcohol on his breath. "I know it's been a few months now, and it has of course sunk in that we're actually... together. But..." Her eyebrows furrowed slightly as she searched for the right way to word her thoughts. "I still can't shake the fear of you lying—well, misleading...well, I guess that's still lying—to me."

Jane pulled his mind down from the blueberry muffin clouds and wrangled it to focus on what she had just said. He was sad at how it took such inebriation to get Lisbon to be honest to him about her feelings, and especially how, despite his efforts, she was still afraid of him hurting her. "I'm sorry, Teresa," he said, beginning to feel quite disappointed with himself. "Tell me, how does me calling you cutesy things trigger that?" His question was free from defense or accusation—he genuinely wanted to know her answer so that he could fix it.

She sighed and broke her eyes away from his, staring down at the table. "Yeah, your nicknames are really sweet. I want to like them. But they also make me go into a sort of... fight-or-flight mode, like, 'Oh crap, what is Jane going to do next? What's the reason why he's buttering me up? What does he want from me?' I'm so used to having to watch out for stuff like that. I guess they still serve as warning signs for me to be on the lookout. Even when there isn't actually anything to look out for."

She kept her eyes averted, and so couldn't see Jane looking back at her sadly. His own fears had been confirmed—the ones he had about not being able to undo the years of lies, manipulation, and mistreatment that he had subjected her to.

He swallowed. The fun of being drunk began to fade and was replaced with frustration over not being able to think or articulate himself clearly. "You still can't trust me," he stated simply.

"No, I guess not." She looked up at him again, her eyes bright with newly-formed tears she couldn't hold back.

He swept her up in an embrace, nearly knocking over one of the many glasses on their table. "I'm sorry," he said again. "I know I can't erase all of the times I've misled you in the past. I'm trying to earn your trust now, but I know it won't be easy."

Although he couldn't see her face now, he felt her chin dig deeper into his back as she nodded. "I know."

They broke apart and he took both of her hands into his, resting them on her lap. "Listen," he said. "I love you. I call you all of those tacky names out of love. There is no ulterior motive behind them, I swear. I promise to you that they are never intended for anything other than to show that I care about you. They just come out naturally most of the time. They aren't a trick, Lisbon." Somehow him using her last name was more affecting than using her first—probably because it was more so Lisbon in the past, not Teresa, who had been subject to his schemes.

Lisbon nodded again, her chest stinging with not just relief but with guilt. She wanted to trust him. She didn't want him to have to outright tell her he was being genuine in order to calm her suspicions.

"If they affect you like this," he said, "I won't use them. I don't want to hurt you."

"No, no, it's okay," she rushed to stop the direction he was headed in. "No, I don't want you to have to filter yourself around me."

"But I-"

"No, really, it's okay. If we avoid the problem, it's still going to be there. This is just something I need to work on getting over."

"Something we need to work on getting over."

"I- yeah, that's right. We." She smiled and her spirits were lifted at Jane's support and their existence as a "we."

"Good." He gave her an even wider smile. "Now, I'm getting pretty sleepy. Are we ready to go to bed?" Lisbon had been a bit wary of them sharing a hotel room, deeming it rather unprofessional. But Abbott had shrugged at this, pointing out that if they were probably going to be sharing anyway, the bureau might as well save some coins by renting them only one room in the first place. Her cheeks had turned red at this, but she had also been relieved over not having to sneak around.

Right on cue, Lisbon yawned. "Yep. Oh, but there's still a bit of "the Budapest" left."

Jane shrugged. "Meh, I think I have reached my limit."

She smirked and downed the rest of the glass. "Amateur."

"Hey, excuse me for looking out for my liver."

"Oh, like you have been worried about your liver all night." She looked around and he followed her gaze at the multitudes of empty drink glasses occupying their table. The busboys had come by earlier to clear the rest of the team's glasses—everything that was left was all of Jane and Lisbon's doing.

The two of them looked at each other and laughed at their night's European tour. Lisbon pulled out her card to pay, but Jane shut this down quickly and told the bartender to add the tab onto their hotel bill. She looked at him wide-eyed, but didn't protest. "Abbott is going to kill you," she said.

"What? Come on. The man knows we needed a break. He'll be all for this."

She shook her head but kept her smile as he placed an arm around her shoulders, leaning on her for support as his gait was still quite impaired. "Let's go to bed," she said.

"Yes. To...the elevator!"

"Uh, it's this direction, actually."

"Ah, right on. Lead the way, Lisbon."

Despite Lisbon's insistence on him carrying on as usual, Jane couldn't help but bite back the nicknames whenever he could help it. After all, it was pretty difficult to continue with them knowing the adverse effects they had on her. They still slipped out unconsciously at times, but became a lot less frequent than they had been before their conversation in Atlantic City.

He certainly agreed with the point that she had made though—that they had to deal with the issue rather than avoid it. And he stayed true to his word—as difficult as it was, he continued to take care to orchestrate his schemes in ways that avoided any deception of her. At times it made things much more long-winded than they needed to be, but they always caught the perpetrator in the end and it sure was worth it to preserve her trust in the process. It helped quite a bit that she was no longer the boss—a lot of what they got away with now would have caused her much bigger headaches during their CBI days.

Lisbon noticed his efforts, often surprised at the lengths he went through in order to keep her in the loop. This of course granted her more security in trusting him, and he noticed her becoming more unmoved whenever he let an "angel" or a "baby" slip during the early morning or late night hours. He ventured as far as to guess she was finally getting comfortable with the matter, but proceeded about this cautiously, not wanting to disturb any of the progress he had made into establishing her trust.

She had now even tried it out herself a few times, asking him to "shut the door please, dear" and bidding him "good night, honey." It still felt quite unnatural—not just for her, but for him too—when she used any sweet names, since she was not a very outwardly affectionate person in general. Growing up with three brothers and no mother, Lisbon had always been one to show she cared through actions—making Jane soup when he got the flu, protecting him from getting shot on the job, keeping his favorite flavors of desserts in mind while grocery shopping, and so on. It didn't bother him in the slightest that she wasn't one to sweet talk—he had already learned that for a fact many years ago. He made sure to tell her this, and she had thanked him for understanding but continued to pepper in the nicknames nevertheless. He guessed she had been true to herself after all when she said that she didn't dislike the names.

They had been at headquarters for the past few weeks, working a more local case revolving around the disappearance of a local celebrity chef. It was nice to be able to sleep in familiar beds rather than hotel ones for a change. Travelling for cases was an adventure, but a rather exhausting one. The two of them both appreciated the respite. Well, respite in relative terms. The current case was still quite taxing—it had been almost a month and they still seemed to be no closer to finding a body or even figuring out if this body would be dead or alive. After yet another dinner of questionable takeout food, Jane insisted on them leaving the office. Lisbon acceded to this, knowing by now that her protest would just drag out the process unnecessarily.

The drive home was initially rather quiet, as Jane hummed along to the radio and Lisbon kept her nose buried in a case file—a profile of one of their top suspects. Or should he even be a suspect? Her mind was feeling like putty at this point, tired of being lead around in circles and hounded by the media demanding to know why the FBI still hadn't been able to locate Guy.

"Hey, it's bad for your eyes to be reading in the dark like that," Jane interjected as a song ended and the radio station cut to a commercial break. "Besides, we've already been through that file eight times today."

"Yeah, I know," she said, too tired to protest again. "It's just... where is this damn man?"

"Damn Guy, you mean?" Jane corrected, playing a pun on the victim's (if he was even the victim here) name.

"Ha ha. Yeah. Damn Guy. Are you dead, alive, running, hiding, what? Where are you?" She let out a sigh of exasperation.

"He's alive," Jane said with unfounded certainty. "We'll get him, Reese, don't worry." After a period of using her first name, he had naturally transitioned to the classic abbreviation.

"Ugh." She shut the file folder with a thud and slumped into the passenger seat.

A new song started to play through the radio, but Jane turned down the volume until it was more background noise. "Hey, so, I've been thinking."

"Hm? Nothing too complicated right now, please," Lisbon was only partly joking. "My brain is about to melt."

Jane didn't take his eyes off the road but smiled knowing Lisbon was no doubt pouting one of her adorable Lisbon pouts at the moment. He continued. "So, regarding the matter of nicknames again. I know it's been unsettling for you, hearing me address you with nice things, because it makes it seem like I'm sweetening you up for something more."

"Oh, yeah," Lisbon straightened up a little bit more in her seat. "I've been meaning to bring that up to you, too."

"Oh really?" Jane was surprised to hear that.

"Yeah, this case has just been a lot." She sighed again. "But anyway, I've noticed that you've been trying to refrain yourself, and even though I appreciate the sentiment, I thought we had agreed this was something that shouldn't just be avoided."

He bit his lip a little guiltily. "Yeah, I know. I just can't help it. That's what I've been thinking about, though. I have an idea."

"Oh, you do." She said this with light sarcasm, but without malice.

"Yeah." It was quite late into the evening, and yet they somehow still managed to hit traffic on the highway. The car came to a stop as they joined the sea of crawling brake lights, likely the result of a car accident. "I've been thinking—well, what if I used less flattering names for you? To eliminate any suspicion of ulterior motives."

Lisbon snorted, quite entertained. "What? Less flattering names? What do you propose by that?"

"Well," he said, smiling again, free to look at her this time. "I could call you my 'unbearable woman,' my 'harpy,' my 'Kryptonite.' "

Lisbon snorted even louder now. "What! Your Kryptonite. Really. Isn't Kryptonite Superman's weakness? I have a gun. And you're saying that I'm your weakness?"

"Why yes, of course," Jane replied. "You make me weak in the knees."

She let out a rich laugh, letting go of the irritation that had begun to form over the traffic around them. "Oh shut up."

"I have some other ideas too, some more phonetic ones." He cleared his throat as if he were making an important announcement. "Reese's Pieces, 'Resa Pizza, Reesey Geesey. Take your pick."

"Oh my God, Reese's Pieces. That's what my brothers used to call me."

"Ah, so that one is out. I wanna stay original here."

She laughed again, grateful for the lighthearted distraction after such a stressful day. "Reesey Geesey? Really? That's what you came up with?"

"Well I had a little help from Marvin the goose across the street, but yeah."

"Just don't call me Mother Teresa."

"Oh God no. Why would I want to picture my girlfriend as a nun? You already wear a crucifix. I think that's reminder enough that I am being watched by the above."

"You're the worst," she said, jokingly. "But seriously though, it's okay. You don't have to stop with the cute names."

"But I don't-"

"No, really. I mean-" She hesitated as if she were admitting something scandalous. "I don't want you to stop."

"Oh, okay. It's okay?" He asked again, even though he didn't need more confirmation.

"Yeah, it's okay. You've been..." she hesitated again before opening up. "You've been really good about everything. To me. It's still not totally easy to do, but I trust you, Jane. I think my internal alarm sirens are starting to calm down. And... I like it when you call me things." It was a big weight off her shoulders to finally be able to say that. The latest case, while stressful, had also highlighted to her the fact that she was remarkably stressed purely about the case, rather than a combination of the case and the consultant, the usual mix of the past.

Hearing this brought Jane great joy. "Wonderful," he said. "So in that case, I can just add these more zesty nicknames to the existing repertoire, yes?"

She rolled her eyes but enjoyed the attention. "Yeah, go crazy."

"Will do, my Kryptonite."

The look of love he gave her made Lisbon feel quite weak herself, though she knew that he was now her strength and not her weakness. She began to form another thought, but this was interrupted by the blare of a horn belonging to the car behind them, snapping them back to their surroundings. The traffic was finally thinning out and they were free to go on home.

It was interesting that something as seemingly mundane as pet names could be used to define the early stages of their new relationship. As time went on, Jane found himself having to worry less about how they affected Lisbon, until he was finally able to carry on with the nicknames without having to fret at all. He enjoyed the opportunities to diversify his portfolio over time, and built up quite an arsenal of monikers for all moods and situations. Lisbon remained relatively shy about using them with him, but he could tell that she still enjoyed the attention, and enjoyed the fact that he spent enough time thinking about her to come up with all of these interesting ways to address her.

Work remained a central part of their lives, and they whirled through cases like revolving doors. On a particular September evening, Jane was in the kitchen, tidying up after dinner and contemplating which seasonal baked goods he should make for dessert. Lisbon wasn't in his company—she had scarfed down her plate like a tiger and scurried away to get back to work, even though she had claimed she was done for the night.

He was taking a gander through her spice rack (which was pretty much also his spice rack by now) when he heard her call from the living room.

"Hey, Jane?"

"Yes, Lisbon?" He didn't have to raise his voice too much for it to travel to her.

"Can you get me a cup of coffee, please?"

Jane shook his head in disapproval, though she couldn't see him. It was late. Nevertheless, he responded with an "Of course," and opened the cupboard where she kept her coffee grounds.

A few minutes later, he made his way to her with a steaming mug. He had figured that she would be too distracted to notice if he gave her decaf. Sure enough, he found Lisbon curled up on the living room sofa, her nose buried in a stack of evidence reports from their latest case and her mind a world away.

She didn't look up as he approached her, but graciously accepted the hot mug into her hands. "Thanks, baby."

This caught him by surprise. It was the first time he had seen her use an endearment so effortlessly. Unlike before, she didn't seem self-conscious in the slightest. Actually, she didn't seem conscious at all of the fact that she had just called him "baby." There was no hesitation or momentary recoil, no bracing herself for a feeling of embarrassment that would never come. He watched as she took a cautious sip of the coffee and then a bigger gulp after she deemed the temperature safe. Her eyes met his for a second to give him a quick smile of gratitude, and then he lost her again to the files.

Jane smiled to himself and started to make his way back to the kitchen to tend to their desserts. "Of course, my love."

Hope you guys enjoyed the first chapter kicking off this story! I had a great time writing this and I look forward to working on the next subject. I have a few in mind right now but feel free to leave requests as well!