A/n Hello everyone! I've been thinking of the best way to celebrate 10 Years of Jisbon which is coming up on the 18th Feb and I've turned to fic writing. This project is quite ambitious because it involves me posting everyday until then. That's right, ten days of updates! (Let's see if I can stick to it.)

This fic gives glimpses of what I think the ten years after they got married would be like - I hope people enjoy it!

/

Paper

The house sits quietly by the lake, nestled under the canopy of Texas oaks. It's a modest structure, a renovated shack with its charm preserved - wooden beams, soft amber lighting, and a wraparound porch that overlooks the glistening water. The night outside is still, the air thick with the hum of cicadas and the occasional splash of a fish breaking the surface. Moonlight spills through the curtains, painting the room in a sort of silver hue.

Inside, the bedroom is cosy, walls adorned with photographs and shelves lined with books and memories. Jane and Lisbon lie tangled under the sheets, their breathing slow and synchronised. The room smells faintly of cinnamon from her shampoo and eucalyptus from his shower gel. Her watch on the nightstand ticks quietly, marking the passage of time.

The serenity is broken by a wail, discreet at first, then insistent. Their son's cries drift from the crib in the corner of the room, piercing through the peaceful night. Lisbon stirs first, groaning softly as she turns her head towards the sound. Jane mumbles something incoherent, pulling the sheet higher over his shoulder. "I've got him." Lisbon says, her voice low and raspy with sleep. She sits up, brushing her dark hair out of her face. "He'll want feeding."

Jane grunts, rolling onto his back, his eyes still closed. "Hmm... What time is it?" He questions sleepily.

His wife squints at the digital clock at his bedside, its numbers glowing green. "2am."

Jane exhales a long sigh, a small, drowsy smile tugging at his lips. "Happy anniversary, Teresa."

She pauses for a moment, her hand resting on the edge of the bed as she glances back at him. Despite the exhaustion in her face, there's a warmth in her eyes, a flicker of affection. "Happy anniversary, Patrick." She murmurs, before rising to tend to their son.

One year ago, they tied the knot surrounded by their family and friends. It was a day almost swarmed by chaos, but it ended perfectly, with them watching their loved ones party whilst Lisbon, his wife, shared some life-altering news with him. She was pregnant, he was going to get to be a father again, and now they're here being woken by their son in the middle of the night.

Harry Peter Jane was born a little over four months ago, slightly premature after a difficult pregnancy. They knew the risks going in, in fact they were made abundantly clear each time the words 'geriatric pregnancy' were uttered by a medical professional, but they still weren't expecting it to be so hard. Lisbon had spent weeks on bed rest, fretting over every kick, every flutter, every ominous silence. Jane being incredibly cautious, had hovered over her like a hawk, learning more about prenatal care than he ever thought possible.

She didn't make it to full-term. Her high blood pressure became too much of a concern so one day when she went to the hospital for a check-up she never left. Jane had rushed home to grab their already packed baby delivery go bag and when he returned, she was getting scrubbed for surgery to have a C-section. It was terrifying, for both of them, but Jane had made it his mission to do the reassuring instead of being the one to need that reassurance.

It all went to plan though, and when Harry finally arrived, small but fierce, the world shifted for them both.

Now, the little boy rules their lives with his cries, his laughter, and the strange magic that only a baby can wield. His crib, tucked into the corner of their room, is painted a soft shade of green, adorned with a mobile of zoo animals that spins lazily above his head. Lisbon crosses the room, her bare feet padding against the cool wooden floor, and leans over the crib. Harry's tiny fists flail in the air, his face scrunched in frustration, his cry demanding rather than desperate. "Shh, I've got you." She whispers, scooping him up with practiced ease.

He's warm and wriggly, his cries softening as she cradles him close. She sways gently, patting his back as she moves towards the rocking chair by the window. It was a gift from the Rigsbys, Grace telling her just how important a comfortable chair is when breastfeeding. She was right of course.

Behind Lisbon, Jane props himself up on one elbow, his curls a tousled mess. It's a look that she's still growing used to, him completely carefree and walls down for her, but she's more than grateful that they've made it here. He watches Lisbon with a sluggish smile, his gaze lingering on her as if trying to etch the moment into memory. "He's got some lungs on him." He comments.

"Just like his dad." Lisbon replies, shooting him a wry glance as she settles into the chair. She adjusts Harry in her arms after skilfully pulling her t-shirt over her head, guiding him to nurse. The baby latches on with an urgency that makes her chuckle. "See? This is why I'm his favourite."

Jane smirks, leaning back against the pillows. "I'm the fun one. You're the food source. There's a difference."

"You're ridiculous." She tells her husband with a shake of her head feeling how she smiles as she looks down at her son. The moonlight catches his tiny features like the curve of his nose and the delicate sweep of his lashes.

She didn't know it was possible to love anyone this much, but she would honestly do anything to protect him. With green eyes and a dusting of dark hair, he's certainly a Lisbon. Her brother Stan sent a photograph of her from when she was a baby that he found whilst renovating the old family home, and she and Harry are spitting images of each other.

For a long time, she couldn't envision herself as a mother but somehow, she is holding her own flesh and blood at 2am on her wedding anniversary. It's crazy how quickly life can change. "You can go back to sleep if you want." She offers to Jane even though she knows he won't.

"Why would I want to miss this?" He queries as he stretches out, his hand resting on her abandoned pillow. "It's beautiful… You're beautiful."

She snorts, glancing down at herself as if to say she doesn't believe him. "Flattery will get you nowhere."

"It got me here, didn't it?" He gestures vaguely at the room, the crib, the life they've built together. There's a note of wonder in his voice, a vulnerability that Lisbon has come to expect from him in moments like this.

She doesn't answer right away, her attention on Harry as he nurses, his tiny hand curled up against her chest. When she finally looks back at Jane, her eyes are warm and just a little tired. "Yeah, it did. And I wouldn't change a thing."

xxx

Jane pushes the front door open with his shoulder, somehow managing to hold two bags of groceries, a bulky pack of diapers, and a bundle of mail tucked under his arm. He lets out a small grunt of effort as he manoeuvres inside, the door swinging shut behind him with a clatter. He makes his way to the kitchen and dumps the groceries onto the counter with a sigh of relief. "There." He mutters to himself, shaking out his arms before setting the diapers down beside the groceries.

The mail, slightly crumpled from its journey, lands on the counter next to the fruit bowl. He begins to sift through it: there's a couple of bills, the usual sales flyers, and something different. His fingers pause on an envelope, its weight and texture standing out. It's addressed to both him and Lisbon in Van Pelt's neat handwriting.

He smiles, sliding his thumb under the flap and pulling out a card. It's an anniversary card from the Rigsbys, complete with a cheerful message and a picture of the four of them and Cho at the wedding last year. The thoughtfulness makes him chuckle softly.

He's still holding the card when Lisbon wanders into the kitchen, her cheeks slightly flushed, and her hair pulled back into a ponytail. She's wearing athletic gear, a pedometer strapped to her arm, and she's busy untangling a mess of headphones that seem to have tied themselves into knots. "It's from Grace and Rigsby." Jane says, holding up the card for her to see.

Lisbon glances up, pausing in her battle with the headphones. "That's sweet of them."

"Hmmm..." He hums, setting down the card on the counter, his blue eyes following her as she adjusts her gear. "You going for a run?" There's no need for him to ask really, it's obvious.

"I am." Lisbon checks the pedometer and tugs at the hem of her top. "I've just put Harry down for his nap. He's fed, so that should give me enough time to go for a run and shower before he wakes up."

Jane leans back against the counter, crossing his arms. "You know, you could just stay here. Relax a bit. You didn't get much sleep."

She raises her eyebrow at this. "Jane... you know I need to focus on my fitness. I return to work next week."

His easy smile falters, just for a second, but it's enough for her to notice. "I know, I know." He utters quickly with a wave of his hand. "It's all good. You should do what you need to do."

But Lisbon catches the flicker of anguish in his eyes before he manages to extinguish it behind his usual mask. She sighs, dropping the headphones onto the counter and stepping closer. "Maybe you should make an appointment with Dr Gardner?" She suggests gently, referring to his therapist.

It was a big moment when she managed to persuade him to start therapy. It was a few minutes after their wedding, and he made his anxiety of her working in the field whilst pregnant very clear to her. It's understandable to feel like this considering his past, but she knew very quickly that it could create contention between them and the last thing she wanted was that.

Jane shakes his head, brushing off the idea. "We don't need to talk about this today."

"I think we do." Lisbon insists, sounding cautious yet sincere simultaneously. "We've been married one year, and it's been... everything I hoped and more. I just don't want you to regress because I'm going back to work."

He looks away, feeling ashamed about his insecurity, before his eyeline lands on the card from Rigsby and Van Pelt. He knows she's right, but the thought of her stepping back into the field, into danger, twists something deep inside him. "It's not about regressing." He says finally, though his voice lacks conviction. "I just... I worry."

"I know." She reaches out to rest a hand on his arm. "But you can't protect me from everything. And I can't give up who I am."

Jane nods slowly, his lips pressing into a thin line. "I will get used to it."

"I know you will." Lisbon assures him. "But promise me you'll talk to Dr Gardner."

He hesitates but then sighs, a signal that he's given in. "Fine. I promise."

Lisbon squeezes his arm, her expression softening. "Thank you." She presses a gentle kiss to his cheek, his stubble brushing against her lips, before she lets go and steps away. As she turns to head out the door, Jane watches her go, the faint sound of her sneakers on the wooden floor fading into the distance.

xxx

The living room is bathed in the warm glow of a single lamp, its light casting a soft halo over the cosy space. The couch – Jane's prized possession, reclaimed from the bullpen with no small amount of determination – sits at the centre of it all, draped with a knitted throw Lisbon crafted whilst on bedrest. Their son also has enough hats to keep him snug for the foreseeable future.

Empty plates from dinner rest on the coffee table, remnants of homemade burgers and all the trimmings still lingering. Her favourite, down to the perfectly crisp fries and the extra pickles. A small bowl of melted chocolate sits nearby, smudged with the evidence of strawberries dipped and enjoyed.

On the couch, Lisbon leans against Jane, her head tilted toward him, a playful smile dancing on her lips. His arm is draped lazily over her shoulders, and his fingers trace absentminded circles on her upper arm. They're both relaxed, their movements unhurried, savouring the quiet intimacy of the moment.

Jane leans in, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "I'd say this has been a rather successful anniversary so far."

Lisbon raises her brow with her lips quirking into a smile. "Homemade burgers, chocolate covered strawberries, and now this? Yeah, you've set the bar pretty high, Patrick."

"I aim to please." He murmurs, his voice low and teasing. His hand slides to her cheek, and he pulls her in for a kiss. It's soft at first, but quickly deepens, the kind of kiss that speaks of love and familiarity and a spark that hasn't dimmed. She responds eagerly, her hands slipping around his neck, pulling him closer. The world outside fades, and for a moment, it's just the two of them, the quiet hum of their connection filling the living room.

Then, like clockwork, a wail pierces the air, coming through loud and clear on the baby monitor perched on the coffee table. Their son's cry is insistent, pulling them back to reality with the efficiency only a baby can manage. Lisbon groans, dropping her forehead against her husband's shoulder. "Of course." She mutters; her voice muffled by his shirt.

Jane lets out a soft chuckle, resting his chin on her head. "He has impeccable timing, doesn't he?"

"You think he knows?" She asks, pulling back to meet his eyes, her expression caught between exasperation and amusement.

"Oh, definitely." He replies with his lips twitching into a grin. "He's already plotting how to keep us from having any alone time for the next eighteen years."

"I'll go and get him." She decides. "He probably only needs a cuddle."

"I'll come with you." Jane offers, standing and holding out a hand to her. She takes it, letting him pull her to her feet with a smile on her face.

It isn't long before they're stepping quietly into their room, the subtle creak of the wooden floor beneath their feet barely audibly over Harry's cries. Lisbon moves on instinct, leaning over the crib, her voices soft and soothing as she reassures him. "Shh, it's okay. We're here." Her hands slide under Harry, cradling his small, wriggling form with practiced ease. His cries falter slightly, though his face is still scrunched in frustration.

Jane lingers by the doorway, leaning against the frame, his arms crossed loosely over his chest. He watches her, his heart swelling in his chest from love and awe. He remembers the sleepless nights during the pregnancy when Lisbon had voiced her worries, her insecurities about whether she'd be a good mother. She'd spoken about her own childhood, about her fears of falling short, of not knowing how to give Harry the kind of love he deserved.

But now, as he watches her rock their son gently, her hand patting his back in a steady rhythm, those fears seem like a distant memory. Lisbon looks completely calm, her voice a quiet melody of reassurance as she comforts Harry. She presses a delicate kiss to the top of his head, her eyes closing for a moment as she holds him close. She makes it look so natural, so effortless, as though she was always meant to be a mother and even though parenthood may have not been planned, he's so glad that they're here now.

This isn't how expected their first anniversary to be when she accepted his marriage proposal. He thought they would be away for the night or maybe a few days somewhere romantic like The Hamptons, where they would stay in a hotel that would put little chocolates on their pillows and dine in restaurants with cloth napkins. They would have stayed up all night laughing and making love – but that was before he found out she was pregnant.

This may not be that, but it's so much better. Jane steps closer, his voice quiet so as not to disturb the moment. "You're amazing, you know that?"

Lisbon glances over her shoulder at him. "Amazing?" She questions. "I'm just trying to get our son to stop crying."

Jane shakes his head, stepping beside her and placing a hand on her back. "No." He says softly, his eyes on Harry as the baby begins to settle, his tiny hand clutching at Lisbon's top. "I mean it. You're amazing. You were so worried, and now... look at you. You're a natural."

Her cheeks flush slightly, and she looks down at Harry, brushing her fingers over his soft hair. "I don't know about that." She murmurs. "I'm just doing my best."

"And your best is amazing."

For a moment, they stand together, Lisbon swaying gently with Harry in her arms, and Jane resting a hand on her back. The room feels quiet and safe, filled with the steady rhythm of Harry's breathing as he drifts back to sleep. "He's going to grow up knowing how loved he is." She tells him because to her that's one of the most important things in the world.

Jane leans down, pressing a kiss to her temple. "He is."

Lisbon smiles, leaning into him for a brief moment before turning her attention back to Harry. "Let's get him back down." She whispers.

Together, they settle their son back into his crib, their movements synched and quiet. As they step back and watch him sleep, Jane slips his hand into Lisbon's, giving it a small squeeze. In this moment, everything feels right.