Author's Note: This is a long one, but I couldn't find a good place to break it. I think we have only one or two chapters more to go (though my muse is the very personification of unpredictability). Thanks for all the support—you guys rock, and this fic would have been very different without all your input!
Chapter 60
The dance floor was nearly empty, and Lisbon was leaning against Jane so heavily he would have thought she was asleep if she wasn't still swaying in time to the music. Rigsby and Grace were standing with a group of people near the door, accepting congratulations and, on Rigsby's part at least, longing to leave. Jane couldn't help but sympathize; the way Lisbon was fingering his tie was making him eager to find out what plans she had for it—and him. She'd laughed when he'd emerged from their room wearing the pink tie, then turned weepy when he explained it was a gesture of solidarity. His search for a tie the exact shade of her dress was going to pay off handsomely when they got home.
The music stopped, and Jane realized the band was starting to pack up. He pressed a kiss into Lisbon's hair and waited for her to pull back, noting the lovely blush on her cheeks. Oh yes, he was one lucky man. "I think we're allowed to leave now," he said. Surely Lisbon's conviction that the bridal party was supposed to remain until after the newlyweds left didn't mean they had to outlast the band.
"Yeah," she agreed, looking around and seeming surprised at how few people were left. They'd danced nearly the whole time, to his delight.
"I love dancing with you," he smiled. "And we haven't had a chance since New Year's."
She met his eyes with regret. "And we won't be able to go back this year."
She'd be in her last month, so traveling would be out of the question, and a late night on her feet wouldn't be her idea of fun, either. And that assumed the twins didn't come five weeks early like the book he'd been reading said was likely. "Maybe next year," he said.
He almost suggested going dancing for their anniversary, but she wouldn't have had much time to recover from the birth by then. A moment of giddiness overcame him as he realized they'd have two children before they'd even been married a year. He couldn't help grinning at their transformation from drunken, horny engaged couple to responsible parents. "This year we'll probably observe the New Year by getting some sleep while we can."
"Glamorous," she replied dryly. "Come on, let's say goodbye."
They passed Cho, who was deep in conversation with a friend Grace had met while volunteering at a soup kitchen, and approached the couple. Ben was passed out on his father's shoulder, and Jane said, "Looks like it's past someone's bedtime."
"Yeah," Rigsby said. "Big day. We better get moving; we're dropping him off at his mom's before we head to the coast."
Grace hugged Lisbon. "Thanks for everything. Both of you."
"Yeah," Rigsby said, glancing at Jane as if afraid he was about to blurt out the list of things Rigsby had needed help with. "Thanks."
"Congratulations," Jane smiled. "I predict you will be very happy together."
Grace chuckled. "It's too bad Yolanda couldn't make it. I would have loved to watch the two of you try to outdo each other."
Lisbon made a choking sound that Jane chose to interpret as relief. "Have a wonderful honeymoon," she said after a moment.
"At least you get one," Jane put in, only partly pretending to be aggrieved.
Rigsby said, "It's only a long weekend. But we'll make the most of it."
"We'll see you Tuesday," Lisbon smiled. She gave Jane's hand a tug, and they made their belated escape.
They held hands as they walked to Lisbon's car. Jane was driving—their compromise since Jane didn't like the idea of the driver's side airbag in proximity to his children and Lisbon refused to risk her children in Jane's contraption. Lisbon settled into the passenger seat, remarking, "I thought Grace's dad made a nice speech."
"I preferred Cho's," Jane grinned. "So much pithy advice packed into so few words. I wonder if he'd have given that same speech at our wedding if we'd let him?"
"I'm glad we didn't do all that stuff," Lisbon said, reaching for his hand again. "Speeches and silly games. I'm just glad I was exempt from the dreaded bouquet toss."
He wrapped his fingers around hers. All evening he'd thought wistfully about the wedding he wished he'd been able to give her. "Yes, the only one playing games at our wedding was Red John."
"But we didn't let him win," she said with satisfaction.
She was probably right, he reflected; their wedding had been perfect for them—practicality and defiance and a touch of sweet romance. "No, we didn't. But should I be warning Grace not to plan any baby showers?"
"Oh, we already settled that. We're hosting one for her next month, and she and Rigsby are throwing us one the month after. They're both couples showers with no stupid games or hats made out of paper plates. She registered at Babies R Us, by the way."
"Yes, I checked into that when I set up our registry," he replied. "Just the basics; I am awaiting your input on themes and decor."
She sighed. "Well, I guess it's good we finally got to see that our hider is a boy. I don't suppose you'll let me do his room with my sports stuff?"
"Certainly, since he'll depend on you for all his sports related knowledge. Any preferences for Victoria's room?"
She frowned a little. "Not really. Is there...anything you'd like to avoid?"
He translated that as "What was Charlotte's room like?" He needed to find the strength to talk about his first daughter more, he thought. As gently as he could, he said, "You can say her name, Teresa. I want to tell the kids about their sister when they're old enough. Charlotte had a rose garden when she was a baby, and then we redid it all with the Little Mermaid when she was older. She loved the water. I used to tell her she must have the sea in her blood."
Lisbon squeezed his hand. "That sounds beautiful. I can just see you two playing on the beach. We'll have to take the kids when they're old enough. You can build elaborate sand castles for them to destroy, and I'll take pictures of the whole thing."
He smiled. "Yes. But meanwhile I wish you'd let me whisk you off to the beach for a sexy weekend."
"It's getting a little late in the year for this latitude," she replied. "And I want to save my vacation time for my maternity leave. But we will, someday, okay?"
"No, we won't. After the kids are born, we won't want to leave them. I guess I'll just have to survive on the memories of our beach time down in Malibu." Which were well worth revisiting, he reflected. It had been a honeymoon in a way, the culmination of years of suppressed longing.
Lisbon's expression was mildly distressed, he noticed when he glanced at her. "I'm sorry we didn't get a honeymoon," she said softly. "I know you had some pretty big ideas about that. If you really want to have a long weekend at the beach, I'll take some time off and we'll do it."
He lifted her hand to his lips. "I would love that," he said. "I promise you'll have a good time."
She sighed. "You aren't going to make me wear a maternity bathing suit, are you?"
"No, my love. You won't have to do anything you don't want to. The whole point is for us to enjoy ourselves before we become sleep deprived parents who don't have a moment to themselves."
She frowned and asked, "How can you talk about parenthood that way and still be so excited about it?"
"Because it's worth it. When you look into your child's eyes, it doesn't matter if they've just pooped in their diaper or thrown up all over you. It's a miracle. There's nothing like it. And I can't wait to have that again." And to watch her experience it and know he'd given that to her. It might almost begin to make up for the years of heartache and trouble he'd caused her.
"I'm glad you're going to have it again," she said, sounding a little choked up. "And I'm glad it's with me."
He kissed her fingers again. "So am I."
mmm
A month later, Jane was lying on his old brown couch pondering the suspects in their latest case when he heard unfamiliar footsteps approaching. Opening his eyes, he sat up and said, "Special Agent Moore! To what do I owe the pleasure?"
Moore grinned at him. "So this is how it's done, huh? Lying on a couch? I'll have to get one of these in my office."
"The couch is only as effective as the brain reposing on it. Here to lure more hardworking but naive CBI agents over to the dark side?" Jane inquired.
"No, although if I thought I had a chance with your wife, I'd give it a try," Moore retorted good-naturedly. "I was actually here to meet with her, but something came up. So I thought I'd talk to you instead."
Jane felt his heart rate spike as he wondered what had come up to make Lisbon late for a meeting, but he quickly calmed it. Administrative nonsense, no doubt. "Just to pass the time, or about something specific?"
"Bret Stiles," Moore said, sobering.
Jane felt the smile slide from his face, and he didn't try to retrieve it. "What about him?"
"He's cut a deal. Apparently he's tired of being confined to countries that don't have extradition treaties with us. He's throwing Visualize's records wide open and testifying against Bertram and several others in exchange for immunity."
Jane wished he could be surprised by that. But he was annoyed, because as much as he was grateful to Stiles for taking him to Lisbon, he felt strongly that everyone who had known where she was and hadn't told him right away deserved to suffer. Plus, Lisbon would hate it.
But if Stiles really could help ferret out all the disciples and contribute to Lisbon's future safety, as well as their children's, Jane would learn to live with Stiles' continuing freedom. "I appreciate the advance notice. When is all this happening?"
"It's already happened. I just found out last night." Moore seemed a little disgruntled.
"You look like a man who could use a cup of tea," Jane said. "Have a seat. I'll be right back."
It might be cowardly, but he felt Lisbon should learn of this from someone other than him. If he stalled long enough, she would come looking for her visitor.
When he returned with the tea tray, Cho had come out to join Rigsby and Stockwell in chatting with Moore, but still no Lisbon.
"So, do you think Stiles knows all the disciples?" Moore asked as he accepted his cup.
"No," Jane replied. "But most of them. Probably the ones we should be most worried about."
Rigsby frowned. "You told Lisbon the ones we should be most worried about had already made their move."
Jane refrained from rolling his eyes with great effort. "Yes, because she doesn't need more things to worry about. But the really crafty ones will be waiting for us to let our guard down."
"Oh, great," Rigsby said.
Cho, who had never been fooled by Jane's blithe reassurances, said, "So we don't let our guard down. We just need to figure out whether they'll be after Lisbon, or the kids."
"The ones who come after Lisbon are arrogant," Jane said. "Easy to catch. Anyone who wants the kids will wait until the most intensive period of care is done. The optimum time would be after they're toilet trained but still young enough to eventually forget us. Three or so." The thought terrified him, but at least it left them time to prepare. And time to enjoy being a family without hiding behind razor wire and concrete barriers.
Stockwell joked, "You should microchip them at birth."
"Don't think I haven't thought of that," Jane replied. "But Lisbon says if she catches me treating our kids like puppies, she'll make me wear a muzzle."
Rigsby turned his laugh into a cough, while Moore and Stockwell grinned. Cho said, "At least it would keep you out of trouble."
Rigsby spluttered, "For about five minutes!"
Everyone chuckled. Jane stopped when he spotted a familiar figure striding briskly down the hall, although not as briskly as she used to. He took a moment to analyze Lisbon's gait, posture, and expression as she approached and concluded that all was well. Stepping away from the group with a smile, he thrust his hands into his pockets to keep from reaching for her belly. Though she tolerated his obsession with her ever expanding stomach at home, she expected him to ignore it at work. It was becoming increasingly difficult.
"Lisbon, look who's here. Agent Moore has kindly stopped by to bring us some news."
"Yes, I'm aware," Lisbon said, smiling at Moore. "Sorry for keeping you waiting. Would you like to come to my office?"
"You can bring your tea," Jane told him, then turned back to Lisbon. "Would you like a cup, my dear? I picked up a new passion fruit blend I think you'll like."
She gave him a look to let him know she knew he was only looking for an excuse to join the meeting, but she said, "Do you have anything that will get the kids to sleep? They've been kickboxing all day."
Jane grinned. "I have just the thing," he assured her. "I'll bring it to you in a minute."
He went into the break room and brewed the tea, then carried it to Lisbon's office. She was sitting on the couch with Moore, visibly agitated, so he knew his timing had been right. "Your tea," he said unnecessarily, handing it to her. He was careful not to let go of the mug until her shaking hands had a firm grip.
"Did you know about this?" she demanded.
"Not until a moment ago," he replied, settling on the couch arm and laying a hand on her back. "It will be all right. He can't hurt you."
"I know he can't hurt me! I'm a cop, goddammit!" she snapped. "I'm not scared of Stiles. But he was an accomplice to kidnapping me. He shouldn't get away with that!"
Moore said, "He's claiming he didn't know where you were until Jane came to ask him about you, and then he looked into it. He says he took Jane there at the first opportunity."
"He knew perfectly well where I was! We had dinner!" Lisbon spat.
"He says he was unaware you were there against your will until he actually spoke to you. It was then he decided to risk his life by thwarting Red John to save you."
Jane began to worry about Lisbon's blood pressure; her face was red, not with embarrassment but with fury. She seethed, "Bullshit! He knew all along I was being held against my will."
Jane rubbed slow circles on her back and murmured, "Drink your tea, love. Of course Stiles is lying through his teeth, though I do think he was afraid of Haffner. Otherwise he would have dealt with him years ago instead of leaving it to me. But if letting him off the hook gets us the rest of the Visualize disciples, that means our children will be safer. I for one am willing to pay that price, galling as it may be."
Lisbon sipped the chamomile tea, her expression still furious and tears of anger gathering in her eyes. Moore took the opportunity to get to his feet and tell them, "I'm sorry none of us had a say in this. And if you feel this endangers your safety, I'll see that you get whatever assistance the FBI can provide. Just let me know. But I'm afraid I have another meeting shortly."
He was lying, but Jane couldn't really blame him for wanting to escape. "Thanks for coming by, Stan."
"Hopefully next time it'll be with better news," Moore said as he left.
Jane moved to sit beside Lisbon, sliding an arm around her shoulders. She let him, sipping her tea and doing the calming breathing exercise he'd taught her. When she was back in control of herself, he said, "I hate it too, love. But it's done. All we can do now is decide to let it go because we have more important things to think about, or alternatively, plot our revenge on Stiles and make him as miserable as he helped make us. And you know I am an advocate for revenge."
Lisbon grimaced and drained her mug, then set it on a little table nearby. "And I'm not. Because you're right—we have more important things to think about. And weathering the fallout from one of your crazy schemes will not help us get ready for the twins."
"True. Although it might make you happier," he replied. "If you're serious about letting this go, that means no stewing over it. You'll end up on bed rest if you don't keep your blood pressure under control."
She grimaced, and he was relieved the prospect of being put on bed rest was one she dreaded as much as he did. If she were confined to bed and not allowed to work, she'd go stir crazy. He'd have to stay home with her to make sure she complied, and she'd take her ire out on him. Having twins was going to be strain enough without going into it already irritated with each other.
"I have better things to think about," she said firmly. "And so do you. Thanks for the tea."
"It was my pleasure," he smiled. "I'll take any excuse to insert myself into your schedule." He kissed her temple and stood. "You know where to find me if you need anything."
"Likewise," she replied, getting up and heading for her desk.
mmm
Even though Jane was certain Bret Stiles' return to U.S. soil presented no threat, sleep eluded him that night. Lisbon was deeply, peacefully asleep when he finally gave up and slid carefully out of bed. The condo was a little chilly, since fall had set in a few days ago, so he decided on the living room rather than the study and turned the fireplace on. The warmth and light were comforting, though he wished for the crackle and scent of a wood fire.
Settled on the couch, he started thinking about the pre-baby chores he planned to do this week, as well as how to bring Cho around to his plan to solve their latest case. Jane was still adjusting to Cho's reactions to his plans and realizing how much he'd relied on charm and emotional manipulation with Lisbon. He was a little ashamed of it now, though it had all come naturally to him at the time.
Cho was nearly immune to manipulation; he cared about results. If Jane cracked the case in a relatively legal and prosecutable way, he was happy, no matter what fallout he might have to deal with. Of course, Jane realized, Cho's fallout was mostly coming from Lisbon, who had not only sympathy but understanding. And anything that came to Hightower's notice and flowed down the chain of command was tempered by her concern for Lisbon's pregnancy. This might be the most lenient the CBI hierarchy was ever going to be with him, he thought, grinning smugly.
However, that would only last as long as Lisbon's pregnancy. But since he intended to become his children's full-time caregiver, the CBI's attitude toward his work would be irrelevant. Mostly. He had enough self-awareness to know he would need to keep his intellect challenged, so he wouldn't give up crime fighting altogether. He pondered how best to approach Cho with a proposal to work only as needed and mostly from home, only interviewing suspects or visiting crime scenes when Lisbon could be with the kids. The inevitable reduction in the number of cases he could close would probably be offset by the drop off in complaints from witnesses, suspects, and family members.
In practice, it might demand more flexibility on Lisbon's part than her job really allowed, but when the babies were older, he would accept Rigsby or Grace as substitutes. Maybe even Stockwell, whom Jane liked and would probably come to trust in time.
Jane closed his eyes and wondered if Lisbon would allow him to interrogate potential babysitters under hypnosis. Of course, given their circumstances, law enforcement or military training was desirable anyway, so their colleagues would be preferable to even the most experienced babysitter.
He was just beginning to doze off while contemplating a child care cooperative with the Rigsbys when a whimper reached him. It was such an un-Lisbon-like noise that he wasn't sure he'd heard it at first. But her shrieked "No!" had him on his feet instantly, and he was nearly to the bed when she let out a bloodcurdling scream.
"Teresa!" He reached for her shoulders, but she was thrashing violently and landed a painful blow to his chest, knocking the wind out of him. As he gasped for air, she sat straight up, looking around wildly. "Patrick?" she choked.
"Here," he wheezed, coming forward again and sitting on the edge of the bed. She threw her arms around him and held on tightly, and he rubbed her back comfortingly. "Bad dream?" He'd been worried for a moment that she was in physical distress, but the sheets were dry, and he wasn't feeling anything odd going on in her body. She'd had nightmares after her captivity, he knew, but nothing this violent.
She nodded against his shoulder. He stroked her hair, wondering how best to help. She rarely talked about her nightmares, which he understood since he never talked about his. "Want some warm milk? Hot chocolate?"
"No," she whispered, her breath hot against his neck. She still hadn't loosened her grip. Had she lost him in her nightmare?
"Okay. It's okay. I'm right here," he soothed. "You're safe. We're all safe."
After a few minutes, she sat back, wiping at her eyes. Jane grabbed a Kleenex from the box on the nightstand and handed it to her so she could blow her nose. "Water?" he suggested.
She nodded, and he switched on the bedside lamp and went to the bathroom, returning with a cup of water. When she'd finished drinking, he sat beside her again, stroking her reddened, tear-stained face. "Better?" His voice was a little hoarse, betraying his distress at her pain.
"Yeah." She took a deep breath. "Sometimes I dream that I wake up in the facility and find out this was all a dream."
"I think that's normal," he said, his heart constricting painfully.
"This time I was in labor. Haffner and Stiles were there, and the doctor. All I could think was that you'd know some trick to make it easier for me, and I was scared you'd never get to see the babies. They took them off to clean them up after they were born. They didn't even let me hold them." She paused to get herself under control, her breath coming in little gasps. "Stiles looked at them and then smiled at me. He said they were as perfect as advertised. One was blond and one had dark hair. One of them was crying. Haffner said, 'That one's weak. I only need the strong one.' I begged him to give them back to me, but instead he pulled out a knife."
Jane couldn't bear to hear any more. Years of police work had given her subconscious finely detailed horrors to torture her with, and his didn't need the help. "Ssh. It wasn't real. This is what's real, I promise."
She nodded, but she was still shaken. He kept talking. "Haffner's rotting in the ground. Doctor Mitchell is going to prison. And Stiles has no interest in coming anywhere near us." He rubbed her stomach. "And our babies are safe and healthy, and when they're ready to be born, I will be with you for every second of it."
He thought he felt a small poke against his hand and caught his breath.
"Did you feel that?" Lisbon whispered.
"Yeah." He gave her his biggest smile and watched the pain fade from her eyes. Then he bent to press his ear to her belly, calling, "Hey there. Are you saying hi to your daddy? I can't wait to see you."
A firmer poke hit him in the jaw, and he laughed in delight. Sitting up, he kissed Lisbon exuberantly. "That's definitely your kid. He punched me in the face!"
"She was aiming for your nose," Lisbon grinned.
"I hope she has your punch," he chuckled. "She'll need it to keep the boys in line if she's half as beautiful as her mommy."
"I'll teach her, but she'll probably be able to talk her way out of anything like her daddy."
He couldn't resist kissing her again, and soon they had both forgotten all about her nightmare.
mmm
The baby shower was a success, Lisbon reflected with satisfaction as the guests began to leave. They hardly had any refreshments left, though that was no surprise since Jane had worked on the finger foods all day and Rigsby seemed determined not to let any of it go to waste. Grace seemed thrilled with the gifts, and they'd managed to avoid boring the non-parent guests by letting everyone break up into conversational groups. Even Cho seemed to have a good time; instead of fleeing at the first opportunity, he had lingered picking up wrapping paper and talking to a woman Lisbon vaguely recognized from the wedding. They had left together, to Lisbon's secret delight.
She smiled at the last guest, who was hugging Grace, and settled on the couch, kicking off her shoes and letting out a sigh of relief. Jane was busy in the kitchen cleaning up; Rigsby had offered to help but was probably just taking care of the leftovers. She should be cleaning up too. She'd rest a minute and then go be useful.
Grace lowered herself into a nearby chair with a smile. "I need a nap after all that," she said. "Thank you so much."
"You're welcome, although Patrick did all the work," Lisbon admitted.
"Not all, I bet. But it's true he set the bar pretty high for refreshments. Too bad I can't hire him to cater your shower."
"He probably would," Lisbon chuckled. Jane loved showing off, after all, whether in front of cops or party guests. "So are you all set now?"
"I think so. My parents bought the stroller, and my new coworkers got us the Pack and Play. And of course now we have the car seat thanks to you and the high chair thanks to Cho." Grace beamed. "How are you guys coming along? You need twice as much, after all."
Lisbon felt a wave of sadness that there were no thrilled grandparents out there making major purchases for her twins. But at least they would have doting aunts and uncles in law enforcement. And her brothers were already sending her hand-me-down clothes from their kids, though Jane's first impulse had been to turn up his nose at them. "We'll get there. Minelli says he's sending us something special, so I can't wait to find out what. I'm more worried about what we're naming our son. Jane won't have a serious conversation about it. He keeps suggesting random weird names from Shakespeare plays." He was being rather passive-aggressive about it, actually. It worried her, because he seemed so excited about everything else.
"Romeo Jane? That might turn out to be appropriate," Grace grinned. Then she sobered. "Does he talk about his father, ever?"
"No. I don't really know anything about him except his name. And that he was a con man." She was a little embarrassed to admit that, but she rarely talked about her childhood, so she had no grounds to pry into Jane's.
Grace said, "Wayne's terrified of being anything like his father. It's really important to him to be a good role model. He freaks out about it sometimes. Maybe Jane is doing the same thing."
Lisbon thought about it. It was true that when she'd suggested naming their son Alexander, he'd replied that the world had already seen one Alex Jane and didn't need another. "Maybe. Speaking of names, how are you two coming along?"
"Oh, we've decided. We just aren't telling people. But you're not people." Grace smiled again. "Joshua Amos Rigsby. Amos after my dad, and Joshua just because we like it."
"That's really nice," Lisbon smiled back. "Jane's put all the J names off limits. He doesn't want him nicknamed JJ."
Grace laughed. "Like LaRoche? I don't blame him."
"Yeah, I couldn't really argue with that," Lisbon admitted. "But I would have liked Joshua if it hadn't been for that. I'm glad you're getting to use it instead. So are you still thinking about a midwife?"
"Yeah. Wayne's nervous about it though. He wants me to give birth in a hospital. I don't have to ask what Jane wants."
"As you might suspect, it involves an army of medical professionals, state of the art facilities including a private area of the NICU, and an entire camera crew with makeup and lighting." That was an exaggeration, but only slightly.
"Oh, are you going to make a video?" Grace asked, surprised.
"Over my dead body," Lisbon replied. "Or possibly Jane's."
Grace laughed.
Jane and Rigsby came in, and Jane said, "Is there anything more terrifying than two ex homicide detectives plotting murder?"
Lisbon said, "Yes. And if you're lucky, you'll never find out what it is." She adjusted her position on the couch as he sat beside her, snuggling up against him as he slid his arms around her and rested his hands on her stomach. He kissed the top of her head, and she could sense him practically purring with contentment. "Grace was just telling me they've picked Joshua Amos."
"Lovely," Jane said. "Teresa and I are still working on boy names. She wants Habakuk, but I say Rinaldo. Or Holofernes."
Lisbon elbowed him. "Knock it off, Shakespeare. And I didn't say Habakuk; I said Malachi."
Rigsby grinned uncertainly. "What about the girl?"
"Victoria Marie," Jane said with relish. "A name fit for a princess."
"Which of course means she'll be the first prize fighter in the family," Lisbon smiled. "I still say we should name our boy Michael. Then we can call them Mick and Vic."
"Ugh," Jane groaned, tickling her in retaliation. She tried to squirm away from him to no avail, so she had to resort to the elbow again.
Rigsby looked uncomfortable. "So, uh, have you picked out a daycare? Josh will go to Ben's. They guarantee sibling admission."
Jane said, "I'm staying home with the kids."
"You are?" Rigsby and Grace chorused.
"Well, unofficially I hope to work on the really interesting cases," Jane said. "But I haven't discussed it with Cho yet."
Lisbon tried and failed to suppress a huge yawn, and Grace followed suit. Rigsby took that as his cue. "We should really be going. Thanks for everything."
"You need help carrying everything out to the car?" Jane asked.
"Yeah, thanks, man. Hey, we still on for minivan shopping tomorrow?" Rigsby asked as they started gathering up baby gear.
"Yes, but I warn you, I may feel compelled to put a bag over my head," Jane replied.
"Wait a minute," Lisbon protested, waking up again. "No way in hell are you buying a vehicle without me, Patrick Jane. You'll come home with something ridiculous, like a 1968 Volkswagen bus with no seat belts!"
Grace began to laugh. "I guess we'll have to go with them," she said.
"Great. Just how I wanted to spend my Sunday afternoon," Lisbon grumbled.
Jane came over, tilted her face up, and kissed her soundly. "I'll make it up to you Sunday night," he whispered.
mmm
Monday morning found the Rigsbys the new owners of a Honda Odyssey and Lisbon and Jane arguing about whether an SUV would be more appropriate. Jane was happy to table the discussion and go think about murderers for a while, except that they were between cases at the moment. He thought about taking the day off to hang out at the park and ask random caregivers their opinions about various baby products. He might also get the scoop on why minivans were considered necessary, though he suspected it had to do with sliding doors in crowded parking lots. He'd spent several minutes a few days ago watching a woman wrestle her squirming toddler into his car seat and noted that room to maneuver would be useful.
Charlotte had loved to go places, and she hated to make her father unhappy with her, so car seats hadn't been a point of friction he'd considered. Looking back, he'd been undeservedly fortunate that his daughter had inherited her mother's calm temperament. The twins would no doubt be tantrum-throwing, breath-holding miracles of stubbornness, given that neither he nor Lisbon could fairly be said to be easy-going. He'd almost certainly need different parenting strategies than before.
He was about to get up when Rigsby approached. "Jane," he said, keeping his voice down. "Security just called. Bret Stiles is on his way up."
Jane sat up quickly. "Here, or to see Lisbon?" he demanded.
"I'll get Cho," Rigsby said, hurrying off.
Jane got to his feet, deciding to go to Lisbon's office just in case. Maybe she was in a meeting and he'd have time to get Stiles out of the building before she heard anything about it. But he'd only gone a few steps out of the bullpen when he came face to face with Stiles.
"Patrick! How nice to see you again," Stiles greeted him.
"Bret, this is a surprise," Jane lied smoothly. "I heard you decided to help the FBI clean house at Visualize."
"Ah, but I have a feeling it will result in a little housecleaning at the FBI as well," Stiles said with a mocking smile. "And who knows? Possibly the CBI."
"Possibly, though I certainly hope our house is already clean," Jane said. "I was just about to step out for a cup of tea. Can I interest you in one? The coffeehouse down the street does a lovely Earl Grey."
"Normally I would jump at the chance, my boy, but I was hoping to see your lovely wife while I'm here. I have not had the chance to congratulate her on her promotion. Which reminds me, I also owe you congratulations on your clever escape and triumph over poor deluded Ray."
"Now, Bret. There's no need to pretend that wasn't your intent all along. We both know you weren't doing me a favor by taking me to that poker game. You were using me to eliminate a threat to Visualize. You now owe me two favors, and I'm claiming one now."
Stiles looked taken aback. "Why, Patrick. How...forthright of you."
A crowd was collecting in the bullpen, and Jane caught Cho's eye. The team leader was ready to intervene if necessary, but he was clearly not going to take any action until there were no other choices left. Rigsby was nowhere to be seen, and Jane could only hope he'd gone to run interference with Lisbon.
"Let's go have that cup of tea and talk about it," Jane said firmly.
"Very well." Stiles turned back around, and Jane fell into step beside him. They had nearly made it to the elevator when it opened and Lisbon stepped out. She looked more angry than surprised, so Jane knew this wasn't an accidental encounter.
"Mr. Stiles," she said coolly. "And here I was hoping I'd never see you again."
He chuckled. "I regret that our last meeting seems to have given you a distaste for my company. Especially since I came here especially to see you. I'm pleased to see you looking so well, my dear. Why, you practically glow."
Jane identified the look on his wife's face as disgust and decided to step in. "Bret and I are just going down to the tea house for a cup, and then he is leaving."
"Now Patrick. Manners," Stiles chided. "I want to congratulate Agent Lisbon on her promotion. And on her impending motherhood, of course. I hear you are doubly blessed. When are they due?"
Lisbon glared at him. "My children are none of your business."
"Quite right," Stiles agreed heartily. "I wanted to assure you that I am giving a mandatory seminar for all church members stressing the fact that leadership should be based on merit and self actualization, not genetic traits. Put your mind at rest that I will do my utmost to prevent any of our community from acting on poor Ray's deluded ideas about your children's destiny."
"We appreciate that," Jane said quickly, trying to forestall an outburst from his increasingly irate wife.
Lisbon laid her hands protectively over the babies. "While you're giving that seminar, you might want to mention that if I ever catch any of them near my children, it will be the last mistake they ever make."
Stiles chuckled. "I will be sure to do so. Please accept my best wishes for an easy birth, Agent. I'm sure you will be a wonderful mother to your beautiful and clever children."
Lisbon looked incensed, and Jane was torn between wanting to drag Stiles into the elevator and pulling Lisbon into the nearest empty room so she could release her anger. Stiles made the decision for him when he said, "You know, Patrick, I think I will take a rain check on that tea. I must be going. I wish you all the best as well."
Jane called, "Good luck with the re-education, Bret!" as Stiles boarded the elevator. He waved in response as the doors closed.
"Well, that was—" He broke off as Lisbon grabbed a fistful of his jacket and dragged him into the nearest interview room, which was fortunately empty.
"Did you know he was coming?" she demanded as the door swung shut behind them.
"No. Please calm down, Lisbon."
"Then why were you taking him for tea?" Putting her hands on her hips had an entirely different effect on him nowadays, but he kept his smirk to himself.
"To get him out of here before you ran into him," Jane said in exasperation.
Lisbon rubbed at her forehead. "Jane, you can't run around trying to take care of every single thing that might upset me."
"On the contrary, that is my primary job right now."
"Just because these are your kids doesn't give you the right to decide what I do and who I see," she snapped.
Jane sighed in frustration. They were never going to agree on this. "All right. Next time a man you have nightmares about shows up to talk to you, I'll ignore him."
Lisbon glared at him; he knew she hated it when he was sarcastic. "Did it ever occur to you that I might need to face my fears? I'm not asking you to ignore him. I'm asking that you let me decide how I want to handle it. I am not a child. I am an adult fully capable of making my own decisions."
"I'm aware of that."
"Then act like it! You can be as hovering and controlling as you like with the twins, at least until they're old enough to fight back, but I demand you treat me with respect and at least a modicum of trust."
He saw the hurt behind her anger and stepped forward, reaching for her shoulders. "Teresa, you are the one person on this planet that I fully trust. And there is no one I respect more. But I cannot stand by and let you be upset without trying to prevent it, any more than you would stand by and let someone threaten me. You are doing the hard work of carrying our children, and all I can do is try to make sure everything else is as easy as possible. Let me do my part."
She sighed as the anger drained out of her. "If you really want to help, make some serious suggestions about what to name our son. You let me pick Victoria's names and you just keep joking about boy names. It's like you don't care."
"Of course I care," he protested. He hadn't really weighed in on names because he'd gotten to name one daughter; he felt Lisbon should have a turn. But she probably wouldn't appreciate that reasoning, and she might misinterpret it as a sign that he wouldn't love Victoria like he loved Charlotte. As for the boy...it still felt so unreal that he would have a son. He was deeply apprehensive about his ability to be a good father to a son. He could spoil Victoria rotten, just like he'd done with Charlotte, and rely on her mother to mitigate any damage. But a boy would probably look to him for behavioral cues as he grew up, and what did he have to offer? He was a rootless con man with a questionable moral foundation and a disdain for social mores that often landed him in trouble. He wouldn't want his son to follow in his footsteps. He wanted his children to be themselves but to be accepted by the people around them, to make friends instead of enemies.
Lisbon seemed to pick up on his anxieties. She lifted a hand to his face and smiled gently. "I know you do. But I need you to be part of naming them. I know you're worried; I am too. I think every parent is. But you are a fantastic husband and you'll be an amazing father to both our kids."
He was touched, but he couldn't help a grin. "Fantastic husband, huh? Can I get that in writing for the next time we have an argument?"
"Only if I can add a footnote that says 'when you're not being an overprotective ass,'" she retorted. "Tell you what. You give me a list of realistic boy names at dinner and I'll give you your statement."
He pressed a kiss on her lips and smiled. "Deal."