AN: Hello there! I hope you're all still functioning after that finale! I needed a good 36 hours for my brain to work again. I just want to say that I am so, so very happy about how it all ended. I fully admit to being worried that I was going to be disappointed, but I definitely wasn't, and I don't think I'm ever going to be over Jane's face when she tells him she's pregnant.

Let's all keep our fingers crossed for a movie in a few years.

Now. This story.

This is a tag in three parts. The first part was written by me (no kidding, right?), and the second and third parts will be written by Donna and waterbaby134. Have I mentioned I'm excited to be working with these two lovely ladies?

The Three of Us

Part I

He lost track of how long they sat by the edge of the pond, arms around each other. He also wasn't sure if he wanted to laugh or cry, and kept doing a mixture of both.

Regardless, he was blissful. And terrified.

He fought through the fear though, just like he promised her he would, and focused on the bright side. Fortunately, it was a very large bright side.

A baby.

A tiny little miracle.

To say he hadn't been expecting this would be a vast understatement.

However, until she'd told him her news, he also hadn't realized how much he wanted it again. He had always assumed that the yearning he felt around children was because of the loss of Charlotte, not because of a desire to have another child.

And yet, they were going to be doing just that.

His heart swelled with emotion. He was going to be a father again, was going to be able to rock a chubby toddler to sleep, play peek-a-boo endlessly, be covered in sticky kisses. He wanted this, wanted it with an intensity that shook him.

A lifetime ago, he'd lost both his wife and his daughter in one single night. Now, he'd gotten it back, been redeemed so far and above what he'd ever thought he deserved it was almost outrageous.

Lisbon shifted, arms slipping under his jacket. He wondered if she was cold.

He also wondered if she was quite prepared for how obsessively overprotective he was going to be, in regards to both her and the baby. Probably not, he decided.

Unconsciously, he grinned again.

"And here I thought all of these tears I've been seeing lately were just wedding jitters," he teased, kissing her temple.

"I've been a nut case lately," she replied, sounding affronted by her actions, voice muffled by his shoulder. "It's really getting out of control."

He pulled back an inch, enough that he could see her face. Then, for the first time, he rested a hand against the place where their child - their child - was growing. "Best wedding present ever," he murmured, punctuating his words with a soft kiss.

"Are you sure?" she blurted out, and he knew she'd been worried about his reaction.

"Yes," he told her. Emphatically. "Teresa, love, I'm not sure I could actually be happier than I am right now." He kissed her again, trying to prove his point.

With a soft sigh, she snuggled back into his arms. He continued to rock them, his mind working in a curious mix of overdrive and slowness. One moment he was planning out a nursery, the next, he was simply memorizing how the air smelled in this exact second.

In another few minutes, Lisbon spoke again. "Do you think we should get back to the party?"

He chuckled. "Do you think anyone has noticed we're gone?" he countered. From the looks of it, the answer was definitely a solid no. Still, he reluctantly disentangled himself from her, keeping only her hands to help her up. After all, it was their wedding, and they should probably be present for a bit longer.

However, it was a long-standing tradition for the bride and groom to make an early exit. He had been planning on it, in fact, and with the knowledge of Lisbon's secret, he was more eager than ever to have his wife to himself.

As soon as the crowd in general became aware that the guests of honor were in sight again, Rigsby snagged Lisbon for a dance.

Grace appeared at his elbow. "You doing okay?" she asked, drink in one hand. "You look a little...stunned," she finally decided. "Happy, but stunned."

While he searched for something to say, Grace studied his face. Apparently, she'd learned far too much from him over the years, for she suddenly spat ice cubes back into her cup. "Oh, my God!" she practically squealed. She threw her arms around him, and he hugged her back in surrender. Part of him wanted to keep this news secret, but the rest of him knew that Grace would know soon enough anyway. Besides, she was family, like Lisbon had been so fond of saying in California.

"I'm so happy for you guys," she whispered, fiercely emotional for a second.

With a start, he realized their children would play together, and he squeezed Grace for just a heartbeat to steady himself.

"Just so you know," he said, recovering, "whatever we wind up having, boy or girl, I'm already arranging a marriage with a Rigsby offspring."

Grace laughed. "Only if your kid is exactly like Lisbon and not you."

In front of them, Stan was now dancing with his sister. Jane watched her closely, looking for signs of fatigue. Instead, she looked radiant, just like she had all day.

Happiness suited her, and he was sorry again it had taken them so long to get here.

Bright side, he reminded himself.

They were here now. She was his wife.

The mother of his unborn child.

That was better, and his lips turned up accordingly.

He managed to steal her away for the next slow song, sighing in contentment as she laid her head against his chest.

"Ready to sneak off?" he asked, noting that she was leaning a bit heavier than normal on him.

She nodded. "I think so. My feet are starting to hurt."

Figuring she would think he was making a scene if he scooped her up and made his way to the waiting limo with her in his arms, he contented himself with slowing down the pace of their dance until they were barely swaying.

The next song was upbeat and apparently popular, and the floor was suddenly crowded. Figuring opportunities shouldn't be wasted, he laced his fingers with Lisbon's and carefully pulled her through the throng of people until they had breathing room.

He gave one backward glance as they strolled towards the black limousine he'd rented for the occasion, despite Lisbon's protests. Abbott was looking in their direction. Even at a distance, it was obvious he was smiling.

Jane nodded, and the gesture was one of both goodbye and of thanks. Without Abbott, good or bad, this day wouldn't have happened, and he would forever be grateful to the man for that.

He carried her the last twenty feet, loving the sound of her startled laughter.

They made out like teenagers on the way to the hotel, frustrated by clothing and limited by drive time.

As the lights of the city came into view, he pulled his mouth away from hers, taking several deep breaths in an effort to get himself under control. Otherwise, walking through the lobby was going to involve him holding a suitcase rather creatively in front of himself.

"Love you," he whispered, nuzzling into her cleavage before sitting up. "Let's go."

The bridal suite was spacious, boasting a king size bed and a jacuzzi tub. He mentally scratched the latter off his list. No hot tubs for another eight months or so.

Instead, he turned his full attention back to his brand new bride, who was stepping out of her shoes with a sigh of pleasure.

Definitely his cue to do whatever it took to keep her making that noise.

And so he did, pulling her flush against his body, fingers finding hidden zippers, taking great pleasure in seeing the ivory satin pool on the floor at Lisbon's feet.

He moved slowly, very slowly, taking as much time as he could.

It reminded him a great deal of their first time, where both of them knew how much this act would mean.

Later, wrapped up together under soft sheets, he kissed her tenderly. "I love you," he said, for about the sixth time that day. On impulse, he kissed her lower abdomen. "I love you, too," he breathed to his child.

When he looked back up at Lisbon, she was biting her lip, tears sliding out of the corners of her eyes.

"What?" he asked, brushing her hair out of her face. "What's wrong?"

Her smile was watery, but brilliant. "Not a thing in the world. I promise."

When she started to yawn, he pulled the blankets up to her shoulders, folding her carefully in his arms. "Go to sleep," he told her hair. "You're entitled to it."

She tipped her face up for one last kiss before giving in, her diamonds on her left hand catching on the nearly invisible light in the room and sparkling in the darkness.

He breathed in, letting the sweet feeling of peace roll into him. Today had been easily the best day of his life. He had been thrilled when he married Angela, elated when Charlotte was born. But, through no fault of his own, it had been impossible for him to fully appreciate what he had been given at the time. Now he knew.

It was nearly nine when she woke the next day, stretching languidly against him. He had been up for several hours, thinking, dreaming, palm protectively against their baby. He'd constantly done the same thing with Angela, too. Apparently, some of his baser instincts couldn't be denied.

Still yawning, Lisbon rolled over, arms around his waist now.

"Good morning, Mrs. Jane," he said, loving the way it sounded.

To his pleasure, she blushed at the unfamiliar title. "Morning," she shyly returned.

"Sleep well?" he asked, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

"Like a log." She stretched again. "You?"

He didn't answer her question. Instead, he shifted until they were lying almost nose to nose. "So, I've been thinking..."

She cut off his sentence with a groan, looking pained.

"What?"

"You thinking makes me nervous."

Playfully, he scowled at her. "Like I was saying before I was rudely interrupted, I've been thinking."

She sighed. "About what?"

He shrugged. "You, mainly. And the baby. And the small army of professionals I'm going to need to hire to get the house done before the aforementioned baby arrives."

Shaking her head, she smiled a touch. "We have some time, you know."

"It'll go fast," he told her. He couldn't explain the urge he felt, to have this home for his family built now, to have all three of them safe and sound under a roof that had only ever been theirs. Perhaps it was a consequence of his rootless childhood, being dragged from pillar to post like the gypsies they were often called.

He had overcome that lifestyle. He had put down his roots. And he wanted it to show.

Besides, there really, really wasn't room for a crib in the Airstream.

They could stay at Lisbon's house, but he also disliked the idea of staying there for just a few months only to move again. He wanted their baby's first days, first steps, first everything to be in one place, somewhere that he could walk through the rooms and remember the milestones that had taken place there.

Lisbon studied his face thoughtfully. It should have scared him, how much she could see, but instead, he found it enthralling. "Okay," she finally whispered. "Let's build a house."

He didn't think she knew why, precisely, this mattered so much, but she simply knew that it did. And that was all she needed.

His smile was bright as he kissed her.

It faded away a bit after a while, but that could have been because he was busy doing other, more important things.