I'm posting this between classes in a hallway! Yay, hallways! I'm blown away, yet again, by how much notice this story has gotten. Thank you all so much for reading, reviewing, following, and favouriting. It means bunches.
Guest 1 - He did this on purpose, so he's been feeling moments of guilt when Lisbon's uncomfortable. Thank you for reading!
Guest 2 - He just feels bad that it's, more so in a way, his fault as to why she's as uncomfortable as she is (due to wanting to test his theory). Thank you for reading!
Guest 3 - Thank you so much! I hope you enjoy this final chapter!
Chapter Four – The Baby That Confirmed The Theory
Her body had also just been on display to each and every one of the medical staff, it seemed, but she didn't care about that. She was tired, sore, and slightly hungry. She really wanted that chocolate pudding that had previously been offered to her and her daughter, Emma.
Lisbon watched as her husband stood by her bed, their little bundle in his arms. He cooed softly and pressed a soft kiss to their daughter's crown as he bent down and shifted Emma into her arms. It sure wasn't the first time she had ever held Emma, but she just couldn't get enough of the little newborn.
The abundance of dark brown hair.
The little button nose.
The small sounds.
The little fingers.
The little yawns.
Emma Katherine Jane.
Jane climbed into bed with her and she scooted over a little to help accommodate him. Carefully, he wrapped his arm around her upper torso so that she was leaning against his chest. Lisbon loved being so close to her husband and holding onto her their child.
Her husband leaned down and pressed a kiss against her ear. She shivered at the sensation that traveled down the length of her spine.
"My theory was correct," he said.
Eyes widening, she moved her head away from him and looked at him with a quirked brow. "Theory? What theory?"
"The one I was testing in the attic."
She blinked and he leaned in close.
"My theory was that your old red couch would be an excellent tool for procreation."
Her eyes widened. "Patrick Jane, did you get me pregnant on purpose?"
The man shrugged – she'd been living these last nine months thinking that Emma was just a wonderful accident! A blip in her taking of birth control….
"You screwed with my birth control, didn't you."
It was not a question, but a statement. And she knew that he knew that.
Smiling at her, he pressed a kiss to her cheek. "My theory was right, by the way," he said.
"Want to hear my theory?" she asked, teeth clamped together as she felt her temper rise (hormones, she swore).
"Meh, no thank you."
Well, this is the end to this little humour-driven piece of work! I hope you all enjoyed and thank you all again for reading!