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Lisbon was late.
Day one she hadn’t thought much into it. She was never one of those women whose cycles were basically clockwork, so she hadn’t been too concerned.
Days two and three she’d attributed it to stress. They’d just gotten a new case with a few bodies and a fake psychic, and she’d practically dragged Jane back from his week-long stint by the scruff of his neck. She hadn’t been happy with him, fretting about his headspace and where their relationship was headed, and then the bodies just kept coming.
Day four was a good old fashioned clusterfuck, with Jane proposing his master plan (of which she did not agree with), only for them to go along with it anyway, potential consequences be damned. With Jane pretending to be the FBI’s psychic on the radio and on the television, she hadn’t had time to think about anything except that this was a bad idea . He’d played this role before, they knew the ending.
He was kidnapped by day five and all hands were on deck. By day six, she spent the whole day rotating between wanting to cry, and wanting to strangle each member of the FBI for allowing Jane out of their sight. Visions of his discarded corpse haunted her, his bright blue eyes glassy and sunkissed skin pale with bloodlessness. But they’d found him in the end, and even though he was back in her arms, she still could hardly think straight.
Day seven came with a picnic by the pond and a surprise engagement. She was too distracted by the emotions of the moment, and later with telling their friends and her family that they were eloping to spare a second thought as to why her period still hadn’t come. And then she had to deal with all the guilt of not having a proper wedding, and then the stress of giving in and having someone else plan it.
Only after she’d talked with Wayne and Grace, did she stop to think properly.
1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, days late. That didn’t mean- could it? And if that was the case, then by her estimation, she’d have to be at least four - four! - weeks along by now. They hadn’t been intimate since before Vega’s funeral and Jane’s departure.
Jane was out of the building around lunch, so she’d taken her chance to drive a couple blocks up to a gas station she hadn’t frequented before- she was a little paranoid, okay?- and bought three take-home pregnancy tests, just to be safe. Snagging a water bottle from the cooler, Lisbon felt like she was practically vibrating with nerves as she dropped her goods on the counter in front of the bored-looking teenager at the till, who didn’t even meet her eyes as she paid.
Deliberating where to take the tests consumed more time than it should have as Lisbon sat in her idling car. She wanted- no, needed- to find out for sure what she already suspected to be true. She couldn’t do it at the FBI, she was too antsy and someone was bound to notice. The airstream tonight was a no-go, Jane would be there, and she wasn't ready to share this quite yet, not until she was sure how she felt. The gas station bathroom was not even an option.
That left her house. It was a bit out of her way, but if she timed it right, she could meet her family at Abbott’s right after.
She must have disassociated for a bit because the next thing she’s acutely aware of is staring at the three capped tests on the bathroom counter, as she stares at the twin blue lines on each, clear as the bright fall sky outside.
The realization hit her- she was undeniably pregnant.
Crap.
Her knees buckle beneath her and she has to sit for a minute.
Sticky, Grace had replied when she’d asked about the kids.
Busy, Karen had informed her the last time they’d spoken. Up all night long, according to Stan.
She liked her life how it was. Liked her job and her routine. A baby was going to throw her whole world off balance. How was she supposed to catch criminals and killers on three hours of sleep?
And was a baby something Jane wanted again? He was always so good with kids, but they’d never talked about having any themselves, too caught up in the honeymoon phase bliss and then crushed beneath the weight of the job. There just hadn’t been a good time. Would it be too hard for him after what he’d lost? Or would he be excited to be a father again?
Was this even something she wanted? Yes , a small voice in the back of her mind answers. Yes . She’s only known about the little life inside of her for five minutes, but she already can’t imagine her future without.
***
She’d meant to talk to Jane before the wedding, honest. But then she was crying over Sylvan themes and feral brothers and serial killers with a vendetta against her husband-to-be, and all thoughts of babies were momentarily forgotten.
Because then she was buying her wedding dress and putting it on because she was getting married . And then she was walking through the tall grass to the edge of the pond to meet her lover.
They’d promised each other that they would always look to the bright side from now on, and she wanted to tell him, but it wasn’t the right time. They lured a killer into their home after all, and now they needed to stay sharp and wait.
But once the killer was caught and forcibly removed from the premises, it was time to get hitched. They read their vows and were pronounced Husband and Wife and then they were married- just like that.
They’d always been each other’s family, whether they’d realized it or not from the first day they met. But now it was real and the rings on their fingers were a tangible symbol of their love and commitment.
After that was a blur of celebration and congratulations, and when they’re finally alone, Lisbon finds that she isn’t even nervous to tell Jane her unintentional secret anymore. Because he loves her, and she loves him, and they have the papers to prove it.
So when she says she has something to tell him with the hand that wears his promise resting over her abdomen, watching as a radiant smile transforms his face- she knows they’re going to be okay.