Loving Daddy, a mentalist fanfic

"Mommy, when did you and Daddy fall in love?" The innocent voice rent the companionable silence of the room.

Jane smirked at the childlike words tumbling from his five year old daughter's mouth as he massaged his homemade wet herbal rub into a trio of succulently thick rib eye steaks. Deciding the smallest should be about right to split between his offspring, he sprinkled a smattering of fresh ground pepper over the beautiful slab of meat. Try feeding his kids hot dogs when their parents were eating steak. Not going to happen. Speaking of kids, if he didn't miss his guess, a certain dark haired, freckle-faced imp was looking at photo albums again. Probably the beautiful ecru silk and pearl one containing their wedding pictures of which there was a surprising number of the happy bride and groom.

Jane smiled at the thought just because they'd gotten married on the beach at Malibu with none the wiser until after the fact didn't mean it was a half-hearted, slip shod affair. His wife-to-be and the mother of his child had deserved the best he had to offer. He'd have gladly given her the most lavish of nuptials witnessed by a bevy of co-workers, family, and friends had she so desired. But, Lisbon hadn't wanted that.

She'd desired, instead, nothing more than the two of them in front of the sea beginning their life where another had ended tragically so many years before. He'd not missed the symbolism behind her actions and he'd sanctioned them. As he'd agreed with her wish to draw that band from his finger just moments before replacing it with the plainly simple wide gold band matching her own. He'd acknowledged his life had come full circle and he had surrendered his freedom willingly. As, surprisingly, had she.

Watching his bride, dark head bowed, tossing a single white calla lily into the sea, he'd known she was silently thanking the woman who'd come before. The woman making him the man she'd wed. Jane had thought at the time, and still did, that his Lisbon was an incredible woman. Strong of will and generous of heart with an infinite capacity to care, she was as beautiful inside as she was without. His old friend at the portrait studio had felt the same and done an outstanding job of capturing that truth for posterity.

Gazing at the child of his heart looking so much like a miniature Lisbon but so totally Jane, the father in him cringed at hearing the question that should never have passed her lips. There were so many things they'd tell her before they were done; but, this wasn't one of them. Neither their nearly three year old son so single mindedly piling his blocks in the corner nor their daughter so decorously seated on that couch would ever know the event intially bringing them together six years ago. Never in a million years. Such truths weren't meant for their ears though there were things that could never be hidden.

Like the fact Lisbon was ripe with his child when they wed. Fortunately, their daughter was still too innocent to ask that question; but, the day would come when she wasn't. While not ashamed of their actions, that wasn't how either of them had wanted such a thing to happen. Since it had, all they could do was make sure Davina understood the reality of her creation. That she was conceived in deep, abiding love and passion.

Tossing a look at the dark haired woman by his side so diligently splaying multicolored radishes across that monster salad she was making, an irresistible devil reared his ugly little head. Fully capable of heading this one off at the pass, Jane decided to toss a dollop of verbal gasoline on the igniting fire instead. It was the least he could do. His lovely wife had been a bit of a pain at the office lately keeping him on a much tighter leash than normal. It didn't matter it was only temporary until the necessary audits were done. A man had to seize his amusements whereever he could.

"Yes, Mommy, when did we fall in love?" Jane couldn't help himself. He wanted to see how Lisbon fielded this one even if it meant being on the receiving end of that nasty glare.

Covering the salad in plastic wrap and carrying it to the fridge, Lisbon pondered her thoughts beyond the one that said her husband was so dead. Watching him wash his hands and cover the steaks, she contemplated the question her child had so recently asked.

When had she fallen in love with Jane? Truly fallen in love? She honestly didn't know.

Staring at her daughter, Lisbon gave her a glance saying she would answer, eventually, as she always did. Davina gave her mother a perceptive look beyond her years in return, a very Jane look, conveying she was willing to listen when Lisbon was ready to talk. In the interim, she'd just flip a few more pages of those photos of her pretty mother in the lovely ecru silk wedding gown and her gorgeous father in his fancy ebony monkey suit with that ridiculous grin plastered across his face.

Watching her child softly humming to herself, Lisbon pondered various facets of the question she'd lobbied so unexpectedly out of the blue. How did she fall in love with Jane? More importantly, exactly when?

Perhaps it was when Jane had taken her in his arms that first night in his condo when she'd turned to flee so many years ago. Lisbon honestly doubted it. She'd not been capable of loving anyone then. Instead, she'd blindly demanded and taken the comfort her lover-to-be had offered not caring the toil such generosity would take on him.

Watching the emotions playing across his wife's open face, Jane knew exactly the moment his Lisbon was recalling. She'd appeared on his doorstep more skittishly feral than tame. He'd lured her inside with his gentleness then confronted her with words she'd not wanted to hear. Watching her prepare to bolt, he'd stopped her escape the only way he'd known how at great personal cost. He'd grasped her shoulders and kissed her. Demanded she stay. Neither had thought he'd meant as a friend.

Shocking him out of his mind, she'd stopped him dead in his tracks by bringing his hands to the buttons of her blouse. He'd willingly complied with her wishes and led her to his lair. He'd gently stripped her naked while she'd done the same for him. He had, however, resisted her desire to have him simply take her in a frenetic, mindless manner. To exorcise her memories of another man's touch too brutally for his more fastidious tastes. He'd not been willing to do such a thing to either of them. They both deserved much better.

Jane had, instead, taken his time in loving her relishing each passionate thrust, intimate touch, and soothing whisper. He'd endlessly worshipped every scar both without and within her body. He'd made her believe none of what happened mattered and once it was over he'd proven the truth of his words with actions. He'd wiped her happy tears away and let her know she was still the same woman in spite of everything. He'd made her believe, somewhere deep inside, perhaps she was. Sometime later, he'd silenced the malicious tongues so threatening to her well-being and protected her from the lies.

Closing her eyes against the pain, Lisbon silently acknowledged, had she been able, she'd have loved him then.

Perhaps it was when Jane had forced that box into her unwilling hand already knowing what the results would be. When he'd taken her in his arms and asked nothing more than the privilege of being their child's father. Lisbon had suspected, even then, his intentions ran much deeper.