Author's Note: I fully intended to get to the case in this chapter, but Jane and Lisbon would just not shut up. And since I didn't feel like arguing, you get a long chapter that's mostly dialogue. Okay, all dialogue. But with a special guest star! I hope you enjoy!

Chapter 26

Three days later, Lisbon looked up at a knock on her office door and broke into a smile when she saw Minelli there. "Sir! Come in!"

She got out of her chair to give him a hug as he entered. "Teresa, it's good to see you," he said, smiling affectionately at her as he took a seat. "You look good. Happy."

"Retirement agrees with you," she responded, sitting back in her chair. "Or is it May?"

"Both," he replied. "I was hoping to convince you to sneak out for lunch. What are my odds?"

"Pretty good," she said. "You were just in the neighborhood?"

"No. I got tired of hearing rumors and decided to come see for myself. Nice ring." He gave her his old "don't bullshit me" look.

She smiled again, this time out of nostalgia. "Thanks. You should tell Jane; he's really proud of his taste in jewelry, it turns out. So. Your favorite bar is still right where you left it—I'll buy you a beer for old times' sake."

"And I'll buy you a burger," he promised. "As long as you tell me what's really going on."

Lisbon's stomach growled. She had leftovers from a delicious casserole Jane had made two nights ago waiting for her in the fridge, but a burger sounded wonderful. She hadn't had much junk food lately, after all. "Deal," she said.

Jane chose that moment to barge in. He didn't seem surprised to find Minelli there, so she knew it was on purpose. "Virgil!" he said heartily. "Good to see you." He shook Minelli's hand, then perched on the corner of Lisbon's desk, tossing her a smile that said he knew she hated it when he did that but she was going to have to live with it. "Come to check on your favorite protégée?"

"Yes," Minelli replied. "Since I was hearing very disturbing rumors that she had lost her mind. I realized right away that you had to be behind it."

Jane grinned, unoffended. "Are you here to give me the speech about how you'll shoot me if I break her heart? Entirely unnecessary, I assure you."

"I know better than to expect you to take such a threat seriously." Minelli held Jane's gaze just a little too long.

The two men were being perfectly cordial, and Lisbon thought they were genuinely glad to see each other, but there was a weird tension in the room. Jane was being territorial, which made no sense, because he knew perfectly well that Minelli's interest in her was not romantic. If anything, it was paternal—

Oh. Lisbon bit her lip to keep from smiling. Of course. Since Lisbon's brothers weren't here to haze her prospective groom, Minelli was acting as her surrogate family. And Jane had spotted it immediately. This was a contest to see who had the most influence over her, as if she weren't perfectly capable of making up her own mind. "Jane," she said, "behave yourself while I take our old boss out for lunch."

Jane shot her an amused look. "I will do my best. Oh, I may not be here when you get back—I have an appointment to look at apartments."

"Do not sign anything!" she warned.

"My dear, I wouldn't dream of it. Will you be home for dinner?"

"That depends on what you're planning to cook," she teased him.

"Text me if you're going to be late," he said. "There's nothing worse than overcooked pork chops." He leaned over to drop a kiss into her hair, too quick for her to stop him. Then he got to his feet, smiling at Minelli. "Good to see you again. After we get settled, you'll have to come for dinner sometime."

"I might take you up on that." Minelli stared after Jane as he left, then turned back to Lisbon. "He cooks?"

"Does he ever. He's also been known to clean," Lisbon smiled. "Come on, let's see if we can beat the lunch crowd."

mmm

When they were settled in a corner booth and had ordered their beers, Lisbon said, "Did you really come back here just to see if Jane had finally driven me over the edge?"

"Why else?" Minelli asked.

"I was kind of hoping you'd come out of retirement," she confessed.

He gave a brief chuckle. "Now why would I do that? I got out of that job alive and without becoming a fugitive, which is better than most of my successors. I won't push my luck." He frowned. "You'd be in line for that job now if I hadn't saddled you with Jane."

"So thank you for that," Lisbon smiled.

Minelli made a harrumphing sound. "It's all very well to joke, Teresa, but I worry I did you a great disservice. And that you are about to turn that into a greater tragedy. You can't be serious about marrying Jane. You know better than anyone that he and Red John are on a collision course. Don't put yourself in the middle."

She shook her head. "It's too late for that. Red John already knows he can use me to manipulate Jane. This is all a result of him doing just that. He gave Jane a choice between himself or me, and Jane chose me."

"I don't think I even want to know how that happened," Minelli frowned.

"You really don't. I don't remember the worst of it, and I don't want to," she admitted. "But Jane has done his best to hold up his end of the deal. We gave the case to the FBI, and he sold his house, which was really hard for him."

"That is not a reason to get married."

"No. But Red John wants us to get married, and when we didn't jump on board with his plan right away, he killed again."

Minelli looked perplexed. "Why would Red John want you to get married?"

"Because he wants Jane to have a wife. We think his goal is to make sure Jane ends up with a wife and child again, but we've agreed the child part's not happening."

"But why? So he can repeat what he did before?"

"Probably, yes."

Minelli swore under his breath. "Teresa, don't do this. You can't turn yourself over to a serial killer like this! Whatever Jane has told you, it's too big a risk. It's bad enough you got engaged—"

Lisbon seized the opportunity to change the subject. "We aren't."

"Oh?"

"Technically, no."

"Then why are you wearing that ring? You did say he bought it for you."

"He bought the ring, yes, and I am wearing it. But he never asked me to marry him, and he says he's not going to."

"Really." Minelli looked suspicious. "Then what is all this I keep hearing about a wedding? Just gossip?"

"No, there is a wedding in the works," she said. "To keep Red John happy."

"I have news for you, Teresa. If you're planning to get married, you're engaged."

"Fake married," she explained. "To keep Red John happy. Not real married as in I want to spend the rest of my life with him, or anything." Even if she thought she might, most days.

Minelli shook his head sadly. "I worried about you when I left," he said. "I knew I'd done you a bad turn by putting Jane on your team, and I saw that you'd gotten too close to him. I knew he would get you into trouble. But I never imagined this."

"Neither did I," she sighed.

Minelli's expression turned sour. "You tell him," he said, "that if he gets you killed, I'm coming after him."

Lisbon said, "No need. He says he has no plans to outlive me. And I'm very afraid he wouldn't."

With a sigh, Minelli took a long pull on his beer. Then he said, "I know you love him—I knew that when I left. But you can't afford to be blinded by that."

"I'm trying not to be," she assured him.

"Then I guess that is all I came to say."

He looked sad, and she wanted to cheer him up. "Would you like to come to the wedding? It's just us and the team, but we'd love to have you."

"I wouldn't miss it," he smiled. Then he frowned again. "But I won't bring May. And I'm coming armed."

"We all are," she assured him.

mmm

Jane was full of nervous energy while he waited for Lisbon to get home that evening. He'd had a very successful afternoon of apartment hunting, and he couldn't wait to share his findings with her. But he was also nervous about her talk with Minelli, who was possibly the one person who could convince her to rethink their plans.

She was smiling as she came in the door, though, and her body language was free of guilt or anxiety, so she obviously wasn't planning to call things off. "Welcome home," he said, concealing his relief beneath his usual cheer. "How was your day?"

"Good," she said. "How about yours?"

"Good," he echoed, drawing her into his arms. He was so pleased that he wasn't going to have to persuade her not to give up on him that he had to kiss her, but he confined himself to soft, closed-mouth kisses on her lips and cheeks. She hadn't had nearly enough simple affection in her life, he thought, and since sex was out of the question for the moment, he was taking the opportunity to show her some.

Lisbon hummed in contentment. She always soaked up his gestures of affection eagerly, and he took a moment to regret it had taken this long to reach this point. All the bear claws and origami and other little things had merely been substitutes because he wasn't allowed to do this.

And they had skipped something important, he realized. They'd gone straight from friendship, however sexually charged it might be at times, to live-in lovers. There'd been no dating to speak of, no gradual exploration, and very little playfulness in their coming together. He decided to use this period of abstinence to do all the things he would have done if they had been able to let their relationship gradually evolve.

Lisbon dotted a few kisses along his jawline in answer to his, then rested her head against his shoulder, allowing him to move to her neck. But that threatened to become too heated, so he stopped, focusing on the feeling of his arms around her while she leaned against him.

"What did I do to deserve such a welcome?" she teased. Then she tensed and pulled back to look at his face. "You signed a lease, didn't you? Dammit, Jane!"

"No, I didn't," he assured her, grinning a little at how she jumped to the worst conclusion. "I promise. I wanted to, but I knew you'd never move in if I did. We'll both sign it, after you've seen the place and fallen in love with it."

She still looked suspicious. "Then what was this about?"

"What, I can't greet my fiancée with a kiss? Simply because she's beautiful and I missed her?" He missed Lovely Fiancée too, he reflected. Really missed her. But he would probably only see her again as Lovely Wife. He swallowed the pang he felt at applying that word to anyone but Angela; he needed to get used to it.

"Hm." Lisbon wasn't buying it.

He couldn't blame her, really. So he decided to tell her the truth. "Remember when I told you I didn't want to be engaged because everyone would try to talk you out of it?"

"Yes?"

"Of all the people I thought would try, Minelli was the one I was most worried about. But he didn't convince you, so I am expressing my profound relief."

She frowned a little, then looked intently into his eyes. "Are you really so unsure of me?"

He felt his mouth tug into a wry half-grin, half-grimace. "Teresa, anyone who cares about you thinks this is a mistake. If I weren't such a selfish bastard, I'd talk you out of it myself."

"Because you think Red John will try to kill me."

"Partly. But mostly because, in all honesty, I treat you very badly sometimes. As evidenced by the fact that we're currently not having sex because I embarrassed you in front of Bertram."

"You could try treating me better," she suggested. "I know it sounds like a crazy idea, but it works for most couples."

"I don't embarrass you for the fun of it, you know. I had a very specific reason for doing so, and it worked perfectly." He frowned. "The problem is that we bring work home with us. On our own time, I think I treat you pretty well. In evidence of which, I present you these lovely brochures and invite you to pay particular attention to the spacious and well-equipped kitchens. And, of course, the security features."

Lisbon rolled her eyes as he handed her several glossy brochures, then frowned as she flipped through them. "We can't afford any of these. Really, Jane—this building has its own climbing wall and a stadium seating theater, in addition to the roof pool. I know what you make, remember? We're both state employees—it's not like we're getting raises anytime soon." She eyed him with suspicion again. "These are just to make me think the one you want is reasonable, right?"

He chuckled. "I love that you know me so well."

"No, you don't," she replied. "But since you intend to marry me, I assume you'll learn to live with it. And if you don't come up with some reasonable options, you'll be doing that here with my humble little kitchen." She tilted her head, looking at him curiously. "Red John's never had any trouble getting into anywhere he wanted to be. What makes you think we'll be any safer in any of these places?"

"Of course we won't be safer. We're not safe in the CBI, for goodness' sake. But this is about appearances. Moving will signal to him that we're building a new life together. It'll give us a chance to amuse him with our nesting activities and make him think we're playing along with his game. Which is why I only looked at two- and three-bedroom places."

"Nesting?" Lisbon looked both amused and repulsed.

"Nesting. I plan to drive you batty with fabric samples," he grinned. "And trying out mattresses."

Lisbon was obviously picturing how much embarrassment he could cause her in a mattress store. "You can buy the mattresses yourself," she said.

"Really? You'd entrust such an important and expensive purchase to someone who until recently slept on couches, a makeshift bed on a board, or hotel mattresses?" He couldn't resist teasing her.

"Given my alternatives, yes. When's dinner?"

"Almost ready. Go put your gun away and I'll show you the other brochures," he instructed.

"Like I need a gun to hurt you," she scoffed, heading upstairs.

He really did love it when she tried to cut through his bullshit. But he would never tell her that. "Why must you suck the fun out of everything?" he called after her mournfully.

"You had enough fun with Bertram to last you a while." Her tart reply floated down the stairs to him, making him grin briefly before going back to the kitchen to put the finishing touches on dinner.

mmm

Lisbon wasn't entirely clear on how "we can't afford that" had become "okay, I'll go look at it," but two days later she found herself gawking at an absolutely gorgeous apartment. Jane kept an arm around her waist as he led her from room to room, lingering in the kitchen and showing her the walk-in pantry with almost the same enthusiasm he showed for his car. He also emphasized the whirlpool tub in the master bathroom and talked at length about which of the two other bedrooms would make the best nursery, to the leasing agent's indulgent amusement.

But when the paperwork came out, she knew she had to put a stop to this. "It's lovely," she said to Emily the leasing agent, "but we can't afford it."

"Could we have a moment?" Jane flashed his most blinding smile at Emily, who immediately succumbed and went to wait in the hall.

"Jane," she said as soon as they were alone. "We talked about this."

"No," he said, "you talked about this, until you freaked yourself out about mingling our finances and then changed the subject. You never let me get to the part about my investments. I've been reinvesting the dividends since I didn't have any use for them, but I don't have to keep doing that. We have more to live on than just our salaries. We can afford this."

Lisbon tried to calm down. Any other woman would be thrilled by this news, she thought. Why was it making her anxious?

Jane took her hand and gave her a look that said he was willing to be patient while she had a moment of irrationality. He probably knew exactly what the problem was, she thought. If she let him, he would talk her into thinking this was a fantastic idea, and they would move into this gorgeous apartment close to work and begin arguing about furniture and what to hang on the walls.

"Here's my cunning plan," he said, just as if they were working a case. "We are going out for a celebratory dinner. After that, we are going to go home and dig out all our financial paperwork. Full disclosure. Then we'll decide how much to put into a joint checking account each month and how much to keep separate. I'll have my financial guy send the paperwork to add your name to the investment accounts, which should alleviate your fear of getting stuck in a lease you can't afford if I disappear or get killed in a car accident."

She remembered when he'd cleaned out the safe in his house and mentioned he'd left everything to her in his will. "I need to change my will," she realized.

"There's no hurry," he smiled. "Where shall we go to celebrate?"

mmm

The next three weeks passed in a blur for Lisbon. In addition to their caseload, she had to deal with Van Pelt's insistence they go dress shopping and Jane's insistence that she weigh in on the furniture he wanted to buy for their new place. The stress mounted as she tried to keep up with everything, and just when she thought she couldn't handle anything else, she came home late to find boxes stacked in her living room.

"What are you doing?" she demanded as Jane stuck his head out of the kitchen.

"Packing. Don't worry, I'm not stripping your kitchen bare. I've left enough that we can make do on the nights we're here. But the china cabinet's been delivered, so I figured we might as well move your mother's china, as well as most of the pots and pans. Oh, the bed's coming tomorrow, so we can start sleeping there once we buy some bedding."

Her gaze wandered past the boxes to the dry cleaning bag containing two of his suits. "You're moving out," she said, a weird forlorn feeling making her heart ache.

Jane must have heard the strange note in her voice, because he came over and gave her a kiss hello. "What's the matter?"

"I thought we'd stay here until the new place was ready," she said, managing a more normal tone."I have two more months on my lease. I didn't realize you were in such a hurry to leave."

"I'm not. But there's no harm in getting started, since we're doing this gradually. It would be nice to come back from the wedding and be mostly moved." He dipped his head a little to better see her expression, lifting one hand to gently tuck her hair behind her ear. "Hey. I'm not moving out. And when I do, I'm taking you with me."

She nodded, but she was still far from happy. Jane read her expression and drew her into a hug. "Getting a little too real for you, sweetheart?"

She drew a deep breath, letting his scent calm her. "There's a lot going on."

"Yes, there is. But there's no need to worry, because I have no intention of leaving you alone long enough to develop cold feet," Jane said. She felt him smile against her hair. "I'll slow down on the furniture buying. We have enough to get by; we can eat at the bar until we move your table. And there's no hurry, since you won't let us try out the new bed until after the wedding."

"We can sleep in it," she pointed out. Of course, since Jane had insisted on a king size, they'd need to buy sheets. No doubt he had firm opinions about thread counts, so that might take some time.

"Meh, almost any bed will do for that. It's the strenuous activity that's the real test. Of course, since you've condemned us to this lengthy celibacy, we'll no doubt give it a vigorous and prolonged breaking in when the happy night arrives."

Her heart sped up at the thought, and she felt him smile again, rubbing her back gently before he pulled away. Days like today were the worst, she thought, when she was stressed and wanted nothing more than to stop thinking for a while. Sex with Jane was great for that, and she missed it. But it seemed like this attempt to alter his behavior might be making an impression, so hopefully it would be worth it in the long run.

"You can call it off anytime you like, you know," he said, his sober tone undercut by the twinkle of amusement in his eye.

"What, the fake engagement? Moving?" she asked, though she knew perfectly well he was talking about the sex ban.

He gave her a knowing grin. "Any or all of it."

"Right." She folded her arms. "You're only saying that because you know I know what would happen if I made Red John angry by foiling his plans."

A strange expression crossed his face. "I suppose," he said slowly, "we could get you out of this unscathed if I met someone else and pretended to fall madly in love with her. You could catch us together in your bed and throw me out. Even he couldn't blame you for that, especially if I turned around and proposed to my mistress immediately afterward."

"And who is this poor woman we'd be throwing to the wolves?" she said drily, ignoring the red hot pain that shot through her at the picture he was painting.

"A cop, of course," he replied. "I'm open to suggestions."

"Stop being an asshole, Jane," she sighed. "Do you want me to admit I couldn't go through with that? Fine. I admit it. If I ever catch you in bed with another woman, I'll shoot first and ask questions later."

"I consider myself warned," he replied. "What I really want us to acknowledge is that we have choices in how we respond to his manipulation. Don't ever tell me you're with me because you have no choice."

She heard the anger beneath his calm tone and realized she'd managed to hit one of his few insecurities. "Of course I'm not. I've told you I'm with you because I want to be, and you must know it's true, since you claim I'm such a bad liar."

"I know it. I want to make sure you know it," he replied.

"Of course I do." She resisted the urge to rub at her forehead and reveal her headache.

Jane was silent for a moment. Then he said, "You skipped dinner, didn't you? I'll make you a sandwich." He went back into the kitchen before she could think of a reply.

Lisbon felt too exhausted to do anything but drop into a chair at the table and stare at it until a sandwich appeared in front of her. She ate it numbly, feeling a little better when she was done. She wasn't sure if she owed Jane an apology, but she did think longingly that dragging him upstairs and working out their frustrations in bed would be a great way to end a miserable day.

Jane sat down across from her and remarked, "Far be it from me to discourage you from fantasizing about having your wicked way with me, but it occurs to me that it might be better in the long run if we got into the habit of talking through our issues."

"Have you been watching daytime television?" she asked incredulously. "And since when do you want to talk about things? Hell, Jane, the thing I like best about you is that I don't have to talk about things!"

He smiled. "I know. I'd be a nervous wreck by now if all I had to go on was what you say. And it helps enormously that I can see the signs of low blood sugar when you're being mean to me." He paused. "But you should know, Teresa, that despite my many talents, I am still merely human. And it is possible to hurt my feelings, especially when it comes to the issue of your feelings for me. And since you've ruled out showing me how you feel through sex, I'm afraid your options for reassuring me are limited. You might actually have to verbalize what you're feeling."

"Nice try, Jane, but you're not going to get me to change my mind that easily," she said.

His pitiful expression tugged at her heart even though she was almost certain it was an act. "Then how are you going to soothe my anxious heart? I can't possibly sleep without some kind of reassurance. I guess I'll just have to stay up all night packing."

She tried not to smirk, confident now that he was playing with her. "That will just make me anxious. I might start unpacking. You know how I have to straighten things up when I'm upset."

Jane chuckled a little, no doubt picturing the two of them packing and unpacking the same boxes all night like some sitcom couple. "Ah, but I have all kinds of ways to overcome your anxiety. I could start with a nice foot massage."

Oh, no way, she thought. He knew perfectly well what that would lead to. The last time, he'd ended up taking his shirt to be repaired and then teased her that the tailor had started winking at him every time he brought in another piece of ripped clothing. "Well, maybe I should give you a massage."

He raised his eyebrows, looking intrigued. "There's a novel idea. But your hands are pretty strong. I'm a little afraid you'll hurt me."

This time she didn't try to contain her smirk. "You've never complained about my hands before. And just think how nice it would be to lie on your stomach while I work out all the tension in your back and shoulders. You're probably sore from all that packing, poor baby."

"It would be nice," he mused. "You'd probably straddle me, and I have really missed having your beautiful thighs wrapped around me."

Two could play that game, she thought. "And I've missed making you moan. And having you at my mercy, of course. And squeezing your cute butt."

He grinned. "This is sounding better and better." From the way his eyes lit, she thought she had him. But then he leaned back and added, "But of course, it's all part of your exquisitely tortuous plan to punish me, so I think I'll have to pass."

She pouted, knowing he had a weakness for her lips. "Are you sure? I think you'd enjoy it."

"I'm afraid it would ultimately prove unsatisfying," he said. But his voice had grown hoarse, and she knew he wasn't as unaffected as he pretended. "No, there's no way around it, Teresa. You'll have to talk about your feelings."

"Oh, cut the bullshit," she sighed. "You don't need me to tell you anything. Sometimes you know what I'm feeling better than I do." It cost her something to admit that, but maybe he'd give her credit for it.

He frowned at her a little, then seemed to come to a decision. "True. And right now you are probably so worked up that you can't sort half of it out, can you? You don't even know where to begin."

She nodded, hoping he'd have something constructive to suggest.

"If there was one thing you could change right now that would make you happier, what would it be?" he asked.

She thought for a moment. "I wish you hadn't been such an ass with Bertram so we could go upstairs and get out of our own heads for a while."

Jane smiled a little. "Unfortunately, I can't change the past, Teresa. If I could, there would be a lengthy list of things for me to undo."

At least one of which would result in their never meeting, she realized. But she couldn't begrudge him the wish to save his family. She tried to think of what else she just wanted to go away. "I wish I didn't have to buy a dress for this wedding."

"Then don't," he said. "If you want to get married in jeans, then do that. I don't care what you're wearing as long as you promise to love and cherish me and let me put a ring on your finger."

Hm, maybe she could buy a pair of white jeans? No. "Grace would never let me get away with that. I just hate spending all that time trying on ridiculously expensive dresses that I'm only going to wear once. And the nice ones are the most expensive! The cheaper ones are all covered in sequins or fake lace or ruffles." She shuddered a little.

Jane shook his head with an affectionate smile. "That's easy. Stop looking at the price tags and buy what you want. I told you, I have money. If you've fallen in love with a twenty thousand dollar dress, just buy it and put us all out of your misery."

"Twenty thousand dollars?" she echoed, scandalized. "Jane, that's a car!"

"Not much of one," he replied. "I'm serious. This is not worth you stressing over. Find something you like and buy it, and stop trying on dresses just because they're in your price range."

"But it's such a waste of money," she complained.

"Look at it this way. We're having this wedding for a reason, and the props and costumes have to look as real as possible. I will happily pay for your dress and count it money well spent." He looked at her, gauging her reaction. "Do I need to come with you and help?"

Oh, that was tempting, if only she could trust him to behave himself and not gang up on her with Grace to make her buy some ridiculous ball gown. "No. I want you to be surprised."

"All right. Now, no more stress over the dress. What's next on your list?"

Lisbon looked around at all the boxes. "Can we please do this together? I'd feel better if I didn't have to worry you were packing something I need."

Jane grinned. "All right. No more packing while you're not here. Next?"

She was starting to feel better. "That's enough for now. I just really, really wish you hadn't felt the need to put the idea of my orgasms into Bertram's head. He can barely look at me now."

"With the result that he calls you instead of making you trek all the way to his office," Jane pointed out. "Teresa, we both know I could talk you into changing your mind almost anytime I want to. Do you know why I haven't?"

It really wasn't worth arguing his point, she decided. He was probably right. But if so, she was very curious as to why he hadn't tried to get his own way, as usual. "Why?"

"Because you're ambivalent at best about marrying me, and this gives you something to look forward to after the wedding."

She blinked, then laughed. "You think I'll marry you for sex?"

"No, but it helps you deal with the stress to think about all the ways I'm going to blow your mind on the wedding night." He looked very pleased with himself.

"You know what really helps me deal with the stress?" she smiled. "Being able to go to confession again. Since I no longer intend to have sex with a man I'm not married to, I've been able to clear my conscience."

"Heaven forbid I tarnish your halo, my dear." He yawned, and she followed a moment later. "Bedtime?"

"Yes." Even if they weren't having sex, she still enjoyed sharing the bed with him. It was something she could look forward to. "Patrick?"

He paused in the act of getting to his feet, her use of his name getting his entire attention. "Yes?"

"You're not planning to sleep over at the new place without me, are you?"

He came around to her side of the table and pulled her up into his arms. "Teresa, I plan to never sleep in a bed without you again if I can possibly help it. Would you relax, please?" He frowned. "Are you still anxious about being away from me? I thought you were better. We've spent part of most days separated recently."

"I'm fine," she said. "What, I'm not allowed to miss my bed warmer?"

"Miss me all you like," he said. "Just don't ever worry that I'd rather be somewhere else."

She smiled, knowing he was telling the truth. It was nice not to have to wonder anymore, she thought as they went up the stairs together.

A/N: Just a note to assure you I did not make up the luxury apartment building Lisbon talks about when she's looking at the brochures. They built one not far from me, causing us all to wonder who these rich people were who were moving into our modest neighborhood! Thanks for reading, and don't worry, there's actually going to be stuff happening in the next chapter!