Disclaimer: Nope. Don't own anything but the DVDs.

Author's Note: Oh, what a wonderful episode! It feels almost superfluous to add anything to it. But here goes anyway...

We walk through the door of our hotel room still smiling and holding hands, happy like any normal couple who's spent a day celebrating with family. It's a new feeling for me; usually I come away from spending time with my brothers feeling guilty and rehashing our past. But not today. Jane was right: they don't hate me. I guess I was too wrapped up in guilt to see them clearly.

I never imagined that Jane and my family would be a good mix, much less that he would help me improve my relationships with them. Though I always suspected that the same skills he used to mess with people would be useful in helping them, I rarely saw him do it. Though looking back, he did take an interest in Annie, which I now realize was genuine and not just a way to tease me.

God, I love this man. I'm so glad I finally said it, finally gave that to him. He deserved to hear it, more than any man in my life ever has.

Jane closes the door behind us and leans down to kiss me. It's a sweet, gentle kiss, the one he wanted to give me at the picnic but wouldn't. He probably thought my brothers would tease me, or maybe he's just gotten into the habit of restraining himself until we're behind closed doors.

For example, I had no idea how much that little leather skirt turned him on until we got back to the Airstream after solving the case. I never thought I'd see the caveman beneath the gentleman, but boy did I. And I thoroughly enjoyed every minute of it.

I'm getting hot just thinking about it. Jane's taken my hands in his and is playing with my fingers, but otherwise he's being more loving than seductive. I move closer and rub myself against him, smiling as I feel him respond.

But then he pulls his mouth away from mine, licking his lips, and smiles at me. "I love you," he says softly.

"I love you," I say, smiling as his eyes light up. Happiness bubbles up in my chest as we look at each other. I think we're in a good place now, more honest with each other. Jane not telling me it was Stan having money trouble instead of Jimmy is the only big secret he's kept lately, and he did it to keep the peace between me and my brothers. Or possibly to make a good impression on them. Tattle-tales are despised in the Lisbon family.

The fact that he took the trouble to help my family makes me love him even more. The idea of Jane wanting to make a good impression on them makes my knees go all wobbly. The only other time I've ever seen him try to win over a group was when he gave those gifts to our FBI team. It was his version of nesting, carving out a home for himself. That he might be doing the same thing with my family takes my breath away.

It means he's not going anywhere. He wants a future with me. A family with me, maybe. I've seen him with babies before, but this was the first time it made me a hormonal mess.

"Thanks for coming back here with me," I tell him.

"It was my pleasure," he says in that low, raspy voice that makes me melt. "Thanks for inviting me."

"You're always invited." Why would I want to leave him behind? I'm calmer when we're together, knowing he's looking out for me, seeing things I'm missing, figuring out new angles I haven't thought of yet. And always looking at me with those knowing eyes, anticipating what I need and making sure I get it.

I'm not exactly sure what he gets out of it, but he prefers it when we're together too.

"Good to know," Jane says, nibbling on my earlobe. "I had a really good time today. Your family might be messy, but they're kind. Welcoming." He starts kissing his way down my neck. "And have I mentioned how much I love looking at you in these pretty dresses you've been wearing lately?"

"I don't need to be a psychic to figure that out," I whisper in his ear, unbuttoning his vest.

He slides his hands around my waist, then down to my ass to pull me against him. "My girlfriend the psychic," he chuckles, his breath puffing against my collarbone. "What am I thinking now?"

"As an officer of the law, I have to inform you what you're thinking is actually illegal in some states," I tease him.

Jane lets out a laugh. "Better get your handcuffs ready, then."

mmm

Afterward, we snuggle while we catch our breath. I lay my head on his chest, just above his thumping heart, and smile as he plays with my hair.

"So," I say, "what insights into my psyche have you gleaned from meeting my brothers and seeing my old house?"

He chuckles. "Nothing shocking. But it's always nice to have context. I wouldn't have pegged you for the type of kid who colors on the walls. Must've been before you became such a dedicated rule follower."

"Apparently I acted out a lot after Tommy was born. Mom said I threw a tantrum every time she nursed him."

"So you've always been the jealous type."

"I guess."

He kisses my head. "You'll never have to be jealous on my account, Teresa."

"I know."

He hums a little. "I confess to a burning desire to look up Woody Squires though."

"Oh, stop. We weren't even that serious."

"But he'll always be the guy who took you to prom, who got to see you all dressed up for probably the first time in your life."

"No, Aunt Kate made me wear a dress to confirmation," I yawn. "Did you ever have to dress up as a boy?"

"No. The first suit I ever wore was the tux for my wedding. Angela wanted the whole big to-do. I thought it was silly, but I wasn't going to argue with her." He's quiet for a minute while I try to think of some way to change the subject and lighten the mood again. But then he continues, "She was right. It was an important occasion, worth dressing up for. But the grief I got from everyone! My dad didn't even come. Pete complained for months about the trouble he had finding a suit to fit him." He chuckles again, then sighs, "I love that you have a big family who welcomes me. I wish I had the same to offer you."

"I've met Pete and Sam and Danny." They weren't exactly welcoming, but I think in the end they decided I was okay. For a cop.

"And that's it. There's no childhood home for you to explore—the old trailer must have rusted away years ago. I don't have any pictures from my childhood, even."

"That's too bad." I bet he was adorable. And mischievous.

"Well, maybe it's best to let my past stay in the past," he sighs.

I couldn't agree more.

"I mean, it's not like I sit around thinking about my childhood. Dear ole dad didn't smack me around that often, but he was a master of mind games. Had me convinced I'd never amount to anything without him."

It's strange how similar and yet different our childhoods were. "My dad was okay when he was sober. I could reason with him, anyway, get some grocery money out of him instead of trying to feed three boys on my minimum wage part time job. But he wasn't what you'd call a good dad, not like he was when Mom was alive. I mean, they both worked really hard and were tired when they got home, so I always had to keep the boys in line, but we felt loved. After she was gone, it was like he didn't have any love left to give. I hated him for that."

"Yeah, I know how that feels. After I got old enough to realize I wasn't unloveable, I hated him for not loving me," Jane sighs. "At least it made it easy to leave him. I just walked out. Never saw or spoke to him again."

Now I feel even worse for waiting to tell him I loved him. Were Angela and Charlotte the only people who ever said it to him before?

"When Dad died, I was at my wits' end. The boys were teenagers and out of control. I let my aunt and uncle take them because I thought they'd be better off, but it's also true I wanted to get away. I went to college in California and hardly ever went back. I didn't like being reminded of the bad times."

We're quiet for a while, thinking about things. I can't blame the boys for feeling abandoned, but I also know I tried my best in a tough situation, and I made the best choice I could. I was only 18, for heaven's sake.

Jane kisses the tip of my nose. "You did everything you could, love. Don't beat yourself up for not being superwoman. And don't blame yourself for how their lives turned out. They've been adults for a long time now."

"I guess I have to stop feeling responsible for them," I sigh.

"Very wise. It's hard to change patterns, I know." He pauses, then says, "I've been thinking about the things we bring forward with us since you gave me back my teacup. Sometimes it's nice to have reminders, familiar things. But it's not the things themselves; it's the feelings attached to them that are important. That old teacup never meant half as much to me before. It was just something I liked. But now every time I look at it, I feel loved."

I press a kiss against his breastbone. "You are loved."

"I know. I knew all along, but that doesn't make the words less important. And the fact that you took your time saying them tells me you don't take them lightly."

"No, I don't." I never said them to Marcus, even though I was planning to live with him. "And you don't need to worry about not having a big family to introduce me to. I have enough trouble relating to my own."

"You're better at it than you think." He rubs my back, then reaches down to pull the covers over us. I smile at the warm cocoon he's made for us.

"You don't really have house envy, do you?"

"A little, yeah."

"Then why the Airstream? You could have a house if you wanted one."

"A house is too lonely on my own. An apartment would be the same. In the Airstream, it's cozy, just enough room for me. It...it doesn't feel like something's missing." He sighs. "I never lived by myself, you know. I lived with my dad, and then I got married and lived with Angela. Being alone feels like loss, because I never was until I lost my family."

Suddenly a lot of things make sense: his thin-walled motel rooms, his attic, his habit of sleeping at the CBI. Places he was never really alone. Even his reluctance to be at my house without me. "Is that why you wouldn't go to my place when you got sick?"

"Partly, yeah. When I'm alone there I worry about you. That something might happen and you won't come home. That I'll...be left alone again."

I hug him, hard. I know this is something he'll always struggle with. It's not just my job; it's that creative brain of his, making up worst case scenarios when he's worried.

"Plus," he goes on in a lighter tone, "it's been a long time since I got sick. I was afraid I'd get whiney and put you off. That was before I realized that you actually wanted to take care of me."

"I always want to take care of you," I whisper.

He wraps his arms around me. "And I always want to take care of you. You, and anyone you care about. You are my family, Teresa, and I will always be there for you. Anything you need, I will give you. You shouldn't hesitate to ask, ever."

"The same goes for you," I tell him.

We're quiet for a while, and it occurs to me that if he doesn't want to be in a house except when I'm there, that means he doesn't want to move in together. Which is disappointing, because I assumed it was just a matter of time. I thought we both wanted to blend our lives together, to make our life. But maybe that's too much for him.

"What's the matter?" He yawns. "You tensed up."

It's impossible to have any privacy at all when we're lying naked and tangled up with each other. I won't be able to lie to him, either. "I kinda thought you'd move in, eventually. But it sounds like you don't want to."

He sighs. "It's not that I don't want to live with you. I do."

"But?" I prompt when he doesn't continue.

"I'd rather we get a place together. Someplace that's not yours or mine, but ours."

Ugh. I just got unpacked again. But he has a point. "We can do that. When you're ready."

"I'm ready. I'm waiting for you to be ready," he says, sounding amused.

"I'm ready." I pull up on one elbow to look at his face. "What did you think the key meant? I figured you'd just gradually move your stuff."

"I figured it would drive you crazy to be finding my stuff all over the place, or for me to rearrange your things to make room for mine."

Well, yeah, now that he mentions it...I just didn't think he'd care, I guess.

"Plus," he says, "moving in together isn't exactly keeping things on the down low, is it? And that's what you said you wanted."

He's right. I've been giving him mixed signals, even if I didn't mean to. "I...I guess I..."

"You're not ready," he says. "It's okay, Teresa. There's no timetable we have to keep to. It's understandable that today, surrounded by families, you feel ready to move forward. But once we get back to Austin, you'll look around at our coworkers and all Pike's old buddies and decide you're not ready to face all that. It's okay."

He's right. But I hate it. It makes me feel shallow. Why should I put our lives on hold just because there'll be gossip? There will be anyway, even if we waited years. "We could start looking at places," I say after a minute. "Figure out what neighborhoods we like, that kind of thing."

"We could," Jane agrees. He takes a deep breath. "Part of that would mean deciding whether we care about school districts."

Oh. Wow. That's a can of worms I wasn't ready to open. "Um. Do we?"

"I'm...not definite one way or the other. I think you're aware that I have significant deficiencies when it comes to parenthood. I'm terrified to try again. But that doesn't mean I won't, if you want to."

"I...had kind of given up on the idea," I admit. Except, I realize, when I saw him with the baby today, I had a sudden fierce urge to see him hold his own. Our own. "But I think I'd like to keep the option open. See what happens."

Jane strokes my cheek with his thumb. "We can do that. On two conditions."

"Which are?"

"If you get pregnant, you come out of the field immediately."

I grimace, but he's right. If we're lucky enough to conceive, we need to minimize the risks to the baby. "Okay. What's the second one?"

"I don't want my child born out of wedlock."

I feel a big smile take over my face. "Me either."

"Good," he says, smiling back.

I lie back down, tucking my face against his neck. "So we'll start looking for a nice house in a good school district."

"Yes."

"Nothing too big," I warn, remembering his last house.

"Four bedrooms," he says. "One for us, one for an office, and two guest rooms, one of which can be a nursery if we need it. We have to have room for your family when they come to visit."

I love the sound of that. "Or your family," I add.

"Or the Rigsbys," he yawns.

"Our family," I agree, yawning too.

"Mm hm." His voice is soft and drowsy, and a minute later he's asleep.

I smile, stroking his hair as I start to drift off too. I hope we'll both dream about little boys with curly hair and a mischievous grin. And when we get back to Austin, we'll start blending our lives into one new life.

Together.