Nine

Patrick Jane did not know if he should or should not fear for his life at this very moment. Lisbon was still infuriated from the morning's incident. In his defense, the team would have found out eventually if she kept it hidden any longer. Of course, she was still pissed.

He was currently standing in front of her door, about to knock again, for the third time. Patrick did not know if the third time, usually being lucky for one person one way or another, would work for him or for Lisbon.

He desperately hoped for him.

Before his fist hit the wood in front of him, the door opened before him. Lisbon looked casual, more casual than she was at work. Her hair was tied up in a messy ponytail and she was wearing a loose T-shirt with pajama pants. He actually did not see her often in her out of work attire.

"What do you want, Jane?" she asked him harshly.

He smiled, rocked back and forth on his heels and somehow made his smile even brighter, "Can I come in?"

"No."

"Why?"

She gripped the door tighter, "Because you embarrassed me," she stopped, "I strictly asked you to not tell anyone of my pregnancy," she was about to boil over with rage right in front of him faster than he'd ever seen her do so. A new record, "And what did you do?"

"Tell them?" he shrugged his shoulders and continued to smile.

She nodded, still infuriated, "Exactly."

"I'm sorry."

"No you're not."

"Would another origami frog make it all better?" he was simply trying his best to please the pregnant woman in front of him. Her hormones should not be like this yet.

Should they?

He saw her right eye twitch briefly, "No," she stated simply.

Patrick then leaned forward until his hand was resting on the door, only a few millimeters away from hers, "I'm sorry, Teresa," his eyes searched hers. He could tell she wanted to say something to that. Probably was in shock over the use of her first name.

That essentially was the plan.

She bit her lip subconsciously and nodded, "Would you like something to drink?"

His smile beamed once more, "I would love something to drink, how nice of you to offer, Lisbon," back to the last name basis.

Patrick brushed past her into her apartment; she shut the door, momentarily leaning on the door. Her eyes followed him into her kitchen, as he opened one cabinet and pulled out a glass, then as he moved towards her refrigerator. Teresa started moving towards him slowly, still watching his movements. She watched him remove a carton of orange juice, uncap it, and pour it into the glass.

He just made himself at home like he always does every house he invades.

"You hungry?" he asked her simply.

She was about to shake her head 'no' when she felt her stomach grumble, he obviously heard it. The slight chuckle from his direction gave it all away. She looked down at her belly. There was a slight bump, still could be easily covered by clothing or by saying she hadn't been exercising enough or just having a plain 'bloat-day'.

"I take that as a yes," she couldn't help but blush. Anyone would blush if they had someone like Patrick Jane pretty much offering to make them something to eat in their very own kitchen.

"I have to make sure you are fed, you know," he moved towards her, setting his orange juice glass on the counter and leaning towards her. He was closer to her than he'd ever been since their whole 'Mother's Day Incident'. But it was ruined when he bent down and lifted her shirt quickly up exposing her belly.

She squeaked.

He chuckled.

Patrick took his hand and placed it on her belly, rubbing it ever so softly. She wanted to lean back, stretch out on a couch, the sensation of his hand on her skin made her go weak in the knees.

She then felt him press his lips on her belly, then again right below her belly button. They lingered there for a few seconds. Teresa gasped, he didn't chuckle, but she did however, feel his smile appear across his features.

"I also have to make sure that my daughter is fed as well."

She looked down at him, "What makes you so sure that it's a 'she'?" she asked him.

Patrick moved up to his full height, letting her shirt fall back into place, he smiled, "I have a way of telling."

She shook her head, "No way, no way you can know that," he was smirking at her now, "You don't know that!"

"You've been thinking it's a girl too."

Yes, that was true.

"But there's still a chance it could be a boy…" she didn't want to boost his already giant ego. If it were to be a girl…which like he said, she was sure it was, his ego would probably double in size.

Not a good thing for the people that work around him.

"Meh, I'm never wrong about these things."

Well, here I am at midnight putting up some finishing touches up on this chapter. I hope everyone liked it…I am OK after the accident, so is my daughter. The front of my car looks like a wadded up ball of paper.

*Those of you who have read another one of my stories (i.e. CSI Miami) know that when I am tried, my writing can get a little…weird or off, sometimes it's changed languages, that is my biggest flaw if I am tired and multilingual (English is also NOT my first language)

Feedback is very much welcomed =)

Leigha