She was nervous as they walked up the short flight of stairs. She didn't know what to expect, although Patrick had assured her that it was going to be okay.

"You're sure they won't mind me being here?" she asked, probably for the fourth or fifth time.

"I'm sure Teresa. They invited you. Carl's wife is coming too and I think Marissa is bringing her boyfriend. I told you, it's the last night so it's going to be a short meeting and then we're going out for pizza afterward for a bit of a celebration.

At first she'd thought it a bit strange that they'd be celebrating, but upon reflection had realized it was totally appropriate. They'd made it through what had to have been an incredibly painful and difficult time and, according to Jane, they were all better for it.

"Even Andrea", he'd told her softly. "She's finally getting some help and that's good."

She'd kissed him for that – and for the fact that he'd made it through all the sessions. And the group had done him good. He was more at peace than she'd ever seen him and seemed to be learning to accept the fdthings that had happened. Of course she knew that their relationship had also helped.

"Here we are", he smiled and opened the door for her. "Go on. No one will bite, I promise."

The evening turned out to be a lot of fun. She enjoyed meeting the other couples. Although they spent the first little while talking over some of the things they'd dealt with, for the most part the evening was full of laughter and teasing.

She couldn't help but watch Jane as the celebration wore on. She'd never quite seen him like this with anyone else. He was light-hearted and talkative – but not in his usual way. It took her a while, but finally she realized. He trusted these people – not in the same way he trusted his team, but emotionally. He felt like he could be himself in front of this group of people – and it surprised her.

He was charming and funny – like he usually was – but he also allowed himself to be vulnerable and that was something he'd only ever been to her. It made her like these people even more.

By the end of the evening she'd made friends with a few of the people and they'd already planned to get together socially. One of the women had asked about her pregnancy and had told her about her husband's fears of having another child. She'd agreed to meet Stephanie for coffee and give her what insights she could.

The only dark spot had been when they'd mentioned Andrea. Joe and Tamika had gone with her to the hospital that night and had checked in on her since then.

"She's doing better", Tamika told them. "They have her on medication and her sister is with her. She's going to be going home with her in a few days. She said to say hi and to tell you all the group really helped – she just needed some extra help."

Jane looked down the entire time Tamika spoke and Teresa knew he still felt badly about the woman. She reached out and took his hand – which won her a smile. "She'll be okay", she told him.

He nodded. "I hope so."

As they were ready to leave that evening Carl approached them. He held out his hand and shook Jane's. "Thank you Patrick. It was wonderful having you in our group. You have real insight into people."

Jane shrugged, looking rather embarrassed, which amused Teresa. It was something she'd rarely seen on him.

"You know", Carl continued, "I think you'd make a great facilitator. Would you consider doing the training and taking on a group in the future."

To say he was surprised was an understatement. Teresa watched him and suddenly was transported back to that first day that Jane had walked into the precinct. He'd been so lost and wounded, so hesitant and unsure of himself. But discovering that he was good at something, at solving crimes, had restored some of his lost self-confidence. She snorted softly some? He was uber-confident about his ability to solve crimes. But in other ways she knew he was still unsure of himself and she could see all of that written on his face.

"But – uh – I'm not – I mean, I'm still dealing with stuff", he blurted.

"So am I", Carl said calmly. "This isn't like the flu Patrick. You don't wake up one day and say, I'm all better. It's a journey that we all travel. There are still days I don't feel like getting out of bed. But I can tell you one thing, that since doing these groups – not just as a participant, but as a leader, I've moved farther on that journey. The greatest healing I've experienced has been in sharing my story with others. Look, I'm not trying to pressure you – it's your decision. But I think you'd be great at it. I know you say you're not psychic and I respect that, but you do have a gift for reading and understanding people, and that helps in this kind of work. So, just think about it. They have training sessions twice a year and the next one's starting in a month."

Jane was quiet on the way home that night and Teresa was sure he was thinking about what Carl had said. "I think you'd be great at it", was all she said.

Life settled into a rather calm but contented time after that. Teresa was feeling good and Jane seemed to be handling everything well. He was his old self on cases – at least from what Cho told her – and it continued to drive Vega up the wall. Still, she and Jane had worked out some kind of truce. Jane tried to restrain himself slightly, at least when she was around, and she refrained from criticizing his lack of protocol. And Jane got the front seat, which meant he was happy and didn't design ways to torment the young agent.

Their case close rate was good – not quite as good as when Teresa was in the field, but good enough to keep the team going. Abbott was convinced it wasn't just Lisbon's skills that made a difference, but the fact that Jane simply worked better when she was there.

Jane himself was happy. He'd never thought he would ever say that again, but it was true. He still had moments of doubt and of fear, but for the most part he could feel himself move forward into his new life.

He and Teresa still had episodes of tension and disagreement. It was what added spice to their relationship and was simply a continuation of how they'd always been together. Of course now they could make up in new, fun ways. He smiled as he thought of some of those ways.

He loved it when she got irritated with him. He loved the little frown she got, or the way she said Jane. It brought back fond memories of all the years they'd served together. He didn't want to lose any of that, and so made it a point to do something he knew would drive her just crazy enough to get after him.

She knew what he was doing, of course, and went along with it for much the same reason. She didn't want to lose them – the them that had worked together so successfully for so many years. She missed being out in the field with him, but still managed to keep an eye on what he was doing and give him a hard time for some of his wilder schemes.

As much as they worked to keep things the same, there were many new things they were discovering about one another. This part of their relationship was scary and fun and surprising. It was strange, really. They had a relationship that was equal parts comfort and familiarity, and brand new and exciting.

The physical was new – and exhilarating – and wonderful. Jane proved to be an exceptional and loving partner. He was incredibly romantic – something she would never have expected. Oh, she knew he could do sweet things (she thought of the pony) but not that he had such a well-developed sense of romance. She would often find little notes in her desk or books, flowers had a way of appearing out of nowhere and then there were the impromptu dinners out, or walks by the beach. What made it all so charming is he was able to surprise her every time. He was a real magician when it came to romance.

But what she liked as much, if not more than the romance, was the humor. He made life fun. She'd worried, when they'd first taken the step towards a relationship, that life with Patrick would be intense. He had been that way since she'd known him. She was only now realizing that much of that was because of his obsession with Red John. Having let that go, he was much more ready to live life as it came.

He laughed easily now – and made her laugh. He teased her and joked with her and found the absurdity in so many things. Mealtimes became fun, shopping and cooking and cleaning became fun – and hell, even sex was fun.

It suddenly hit her that her decision to get up out of her seat, walk down the aisle and off of that plane, was the best one she'd ever made in her life.

"Hey, you, how are you doing?" Patrick and the team had been working a difficult case all week and it was late by the time he'd made it home. She was already in bed, propped up reading a book.

"I'm fine", she replied, putting the book down and lifting up her arms for a hug. "How about you? You must be exhausted."

"Mmm." He sat on the bed and buried his face in her shoulder. "Yeah. Everything okay here?"

"Everything's fine. Stephanie called and wanted to know if we'd like to come for dinner this Saturday."

"Sounds good", he sighed, relaxing into her.

It was only as she realized that he was falling asleep that she spoke. "Patrick, as much as I like having you here, I think you should get your clothes off before going to sleep."

"Hmm?" He sat up, blinking wearily. "Oh, yeah. Sorry."

"Have you eaten?"

"Yeah. We ordered pizza in after we got back." He stood up and slowly stripped off his clothes. Walking to the bathroom, completely naked, she couldn't help but admire him. He turned around and gave her a naughty grin before disappearing. She grinned and returned to her book.

A few minutes later he returned and climbed into bed and immediately moved over and cuddled up with her. "Mmm – much better."

She laughed and moved down until she could lie fully beside him. Putting her arms around him she pulled him to her. "Definitely much better."

"How's Harry?" he asked, rubbing her belly.

"As in 'Houdini' I suppose", she sighed.

"It's a good name!"

"Yes, but Harry Jane doesn't have much of a ring. And what if it's a girl?"

He tensed slightly, but then relaxed. "How about Euphonia?"

"Patrick?"

"No? Gertrude?"

"Patrick?"

"What?" he asked sharply and rolled over so that he was lying on his back.

"What is it?"

He sighed and after a second turned to her again. "Sorry – it's just -"

"You're having trouble with the idea of a girl?"

"Yeah, a bit. I know it's silly, but I keep getting this feeling that it would be a betrayal."

"Of Charlotte?"

"Mmm hmm." He laughed softly, although his breath hitched slightly. "I told you it's silly."

"No, it's not silly at all. I completely understand. I wish I could do something about it but I'm afraid I can't. Do you – should we find out the sex of the baby so you're better prepared?"

"I don't know. I've thought about it but then I think it would be better to wait until it's born." He pushed himself up until he was looking down at Teresa. "I know that when I see the baby, I'll fall in love. I'm just afraid that if I know now I'll – worry."

She nodded and reached up and touched his face gently. "Just let me know what I can do, okay?"

"What you can do is look after yourself and that baby – and know that I love you very, very much." With a soft kiss to her lips he again lay back. "How about David? It's a nice name."

She was silent for a moment. "Copperfield, right?"

He smiled and closed his eyes.

He was holding her loosely, his arms draped around her waist and one leg thrown over hers. She was sleeping peacefully and he often liked to lie there and simply watch her. He smiled as his eyes perused her features, familiar – but also newly discovered. He was tempted to reach out and trace the lines and planes of her face, but didn't want to disturb her. She needed her rest as she grew their child.

Thinking of that child he reached his hand out and very gently placed it on her belly. It was strange how at the beginning he was terrified to even think of the baby growing there. Now he was fascinated by it and felt like he could touch her all day.

He held his hand there, thinking about what it was going to be like to have a child again. It had been so long – he could barely remember all the little - whoa! What was that?

He looked down at his hand. He'd felt something. He stayed perfectly quiet, not daring to move, when he felt it again. It was the baby moving – and he could feel it. A huge smile practically cracked his face in two. It was one of the most amazing things he'd ever felt.

"Hi baby", he whispered. "This is your daddy." There was a bump on his hand – just as if the baby was acknowledging him. He continued to whisper to it – telling the baby things about the world and about its mommy. "You are so lucky little one", he told it. "Your mommy is amazing and she's going to love you so much. And so am I." There was a faint tickle in his hand as again the baby moved.

He lay there for what seemed forever, until eventually the movement slowed and stopped. He figured the baby must have gone to sleep. He smiled again, at the miracle that had just taken place.

Soon after he drew his hand away and lay there thinking about the child. He was so happy and yet still so frightened. He knew there were no assurances – nothing that could prevent something happening again to his family. Still, it was a done deal and he just had to learn to live with the fear.

He was sitting on a bench beside a children's playground, watching the various kids as they climbed all over the equipment. His eyes were drawn to a little girl, not more than three, with curly dark hair. She turned and laughed at another child – a boy a couple of years older. It was then that he saw that her eyes were a deep green.

The little boy reached out and took her hand and helped her climb onto a small platform. She then reached up and kissed his cheek. It was only then that Patrick really noticed the boy. He had blond hair and reminded him of someone, although he couldn't quite place who it was.

He watched for a long time as the two children played and laughed. At one point the boy pushed the little girl on the swing and she giggled and screamed out 'fathter, fathter'. He couldn't help but laugh himself at her sweet lisp and at the obvious love she had for the little boy.

He didn't know who they were, although he was filled with joy watching them. He wanted to get up and go over to them, but was afraid of frightening them. He glanced around, sure he'd see an adult watching – a mother or father or nanny.

Strangely, he was the only adult there. He frowned, thinking that was not good. These children were too young to be on their own. He stood slowly, continuing to look around, when suddenly a small body plowed into him.

"Daddy, Daddy, did you's see me on da swing?"

He looked down in shock at the little girl – and saw Lisbon's eyes looking back at him.

"I swung her sooo high Daddy." This time it was the little boy speaking to him – a little boy with his eyes. No wonder he'd recognized him. He smiled – the two children were his – his and Teresa's. It was obvious when he looked at them.

He laughed and grabbed the little girl and swung her up high. He then knelt down and put his arm around the boy. "You did good", he told him. "You watched out for your sister."

"Of course", the boy nodded solemnly. "I promised you and Mommy I would."

"Yes, you did", he agreed, although in reality he had no idea.

"And everything will be okay Daddy", the little boy smiled. "I promise."

He frowned, wondering at the words, when suddenly he heard another voice. He glanced up and there was Teresa, walking towards them with a smile. He stood slowly, his one arm holding the little girl, the other around his son, and smiled back at her. As she reached them everything slowly faded, although the feeling of joy remained.

"Hey", Teresa's voice brought him back to reality – the reality of morning, in bed, not in a playground. He blinked again and stretched.

"What time is it?" he asked blearily.

"Almost 7:00", she told him. "I let you sleep in a bit, although it looks like you had a good night."

"I did", he suddenly smiled and grabbed her, pulling her down to the bed.

"Hey", she said again, laughing. "What's this for?"

"Did I ever tell you I love you Teresa Lisbon?"

"Yes you have", she nodded, "although a girl can never hear it too many times."

"Good, because I plan to tell you lots and lots and lots more."

"What makes you so happy this morning?" she asked, giving him a quick kiss on the lips.

"Mmm – just a really good dream", he told her.

"You and your dreams", she shook her head. "What was it this time?"

He grinned. "Oh – nothing really – just, something happy."

"Happy eh?" She looked at him, her expression suddenly growing serious. "You seem to be having more of these dreams lately. Have you always had them?"

He felt something strange at her question, although he tried to shake it off. He was not about to lose the warm feeling he'd woken up with. He shrugged. "I don't know – maybe when I was younger."

"How much younger?" she wanted to know, her eyebrow raised.

"Why are you suddenly so interested in my dreams? Everybody dreams Teresa."

"I know, it's just – it seems like it's happening more and more, although at least now you're waking up happy. So how much younger?"

He sighed and rolled his eyes. "I don't know – when I was a kid I guess."

"Really? That long ago? When did they stop?"

This time it was Patrick who grew serious. In fact Teresa wanted to kick herself as his expression grew somber. Why had she pushed this when he had been so happy? "It's okay", she told him. "Just ignore me – I guess it's the detective in me, but it really doesn't matter."

Jane wasn't listening but instead thought back to his childhood. Something about Teresa's question had bothered him – it made him start to think about things long buried. He didn't want to uncover them – but now that the suggestion had been planted, he was pretty sure he wouldn't be able to let it go. He knew himself too well.

"When my mother died", he said softly.

"What?" Jane had never, not once, spoken about his mother. It had been something she had been meaning to ask him about, but had decided they'd had to deal with enough since the beginning of their relationship and so had let it go. She was therefore startled when he mentioned the woman.

"I didn't know you had a mother", she said, half-jokingly.

He gave her a disgusted look. "What? You think I appeared magically from a pea-pod or something? Everyone has a mother Lisbon."

This time she rolled her eyes. "I know that. I just meant – you never talk about her so I assumed she wasn't a part of your life."

"She died when I was eleven", he told her.

"I'm sorry." She reached out and touched him gently. This was something she could understand. She too had lost her mother at a young age. "What happened?"

"She was in an accident", he told her. "It happened at one of the fair grounds where my father was working. They were taking down one of the rides when a cable broke. She happened to be walking by at the time and got hit by a beam. They said she died instantly."

"I'm so sorry", she said again. "How horrible."

"Mmm", he nodded, although his expression wasn't one of sorrow but rather of confusion. There was obviously something about losing his mother that was less than straight forward. The detective part of her, the one she'd just mentioned, was dying of curiosity.

"Do you think it wasn't an accident?" she asked, trying to figure out the source of his puzzlement."

"Hmm? What? Oh – no, I'm sure it was. There was never any question about that. The police did a lengthy investigation and determined it was simply wear and tear, not sabotage. The fair owner was sighted and fined. Of course my father went through the money in a matter of months."

"So if it wasn't that, why are you looking so - ?"

"So – what?" he turned and looked at her, the confusion now focused on her.

"I don't know – you look as if something is puzzling you."

"Really?" His expression cleared, although she was sure he did that intentionally and that something was still bothering him. "The only thing that is puzzling me is why am I lying here when we're going to be late for work. I'm also hungry." He pushed aside the covers, leaned over and gave her a kiss, and then propelled himself out of bed. "Have you showered?" he called as he headed towards the bathroom.

"Yes", she watched him go, a small frown on her face. Something was going on in that complex and often confusing mind of his. She hoped it wasn't anything bad.

It wasn't bad – at least Jane didn't think so – although it was unsettling. He rarely thought about his mother, which was sad, he realized. He'd loved her dearly. She had been the steady one in their family and had given him and his father unconditional love. Although Alex Jane had always been a con-man and a show-man, he hadn't been bad – at least until Jane's mother had died. Elizabeth Jane had loved her husband, but had known what he was like and had done everything she could to keep him as much on the straight and narrow as she could.

Jane thought back to the wonderful times he'd had with his Mom – sitting in their trailer, working on his homework; helping her bake cookies and listening to her stories. One of the most precious memories was sitting down with her and sharing a cup of tea. As a child she'd put lots of milk and honey into it and it had usually been accompanied by a cookie. She'd explained to him that 'tea will always help whatever ails you'. He had never met his grandparents, but had known they were from England, so he was sure that's where his mother's – and eventually his – love of tea had come.

As he showered he allowed the memories of his mother to return. He could still smell her scent – a combination of vanilla and lavender. He remembered her gentle touch – which could turn very firm when he was naughty. He thought of the few times he'd received a swat on the backside and couldn't help but grin. He'd been a handful even as a young boy. He wondered briefly if his son – he thought of the playground – would be the same.

But there was something else – something there that he'd blocked out. He knew it was somewhere in his memory palace, but he knew he had hidden it really well. He was also unsure as to whether he wanted to find it. For some reason he was pretty sure it would change his life.

And he liked his life just the way it was. With a determined frown he turned off the water and began to towel himself dry. Why ruin a good thing with old, buried memories; memories that couldn't possibly make things better than they were right now?