Arctic Wonderland

Chapter 4

Jane was the first one to wake, his heart pounding with joy as he replayed the events of last night in his mind. He looked down at the still sleeping Lisbon in his arms and brought her closer when she shivered softly. He looked at the thermometer, which read -35 degrees. He smiled as he thought at the irony of how it was so cold, yet they had removed every inch of atrocious clothing. He picked her up softly, carried her to the bedroom and placed her down gently. He tucked her in with the covers before kissing her tenderly, dressing, and going downstairs. He picked up the discarded clothes, folded them, re-entered their bedroom, placed them down, and kissed her again before going back downstairs.

He was finishing breakfast when he was startled by soft and slim arms wrapping around his stomach. She kissed his shoulder blade before saying, “Good Morning,”

He smiled, turned around and kissed her, before replying with, “Good morning, beautiful.”

She grinned before kissing him softly. “What’d you make for breakfast?”

He smiled mischievously, “Guess.”

“Patrick,” she whispered softly before kissing him teasingly, “Don’t make me guess, my love.”

He smiled, kissed her, and spoke just as softly, “Pancakes,” before kissing her again.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer, as he wrapped an arm around her waist with the other supporting her back. He pushed her up against a wall as the kiss delved deeper and deeper. He broke the kiss, touched her forehead with his as they panted for breath.

“Breakfast is going to get cold,” he smiled, before helping her into a chair and sat down in front of her.

They ate their pancakes in a comfortable silence, their eyes only breaking contact to make sure their forks didn’t come up empty. When they finished their breakfast, Lisbon stood to clear the table, grabbing a hold of both of their plates.

Patrick stood to protest, “No, Teresa, I’ll do it,” and took the plates from her hands with a dizzying kiss and entered the kitchen before she could object. She looked at the kitchen door, confusion and amusement lighting her face, and as she picked up the cups and forks, she smiled softly. When she entered the kitchen, Jane took the utensils in her hands, kissed her again, and continued to wash the dishes.

“Patrick, my love, let me. You cooked breakfast, at least let me wash the dishes.”

He smiled as he said, “Nope.”

She pouted as she crossed her arms. He looked at her and smiled, shaking his head softly, indicating that her attempt didn’t work. She tried not to smile at him, tried to continue sending an air of annoyance and anger, but she knew that he knew she faking.

Jane chuckled softly and placed the towel he was using to dry his hands on the counter. He walked up to her, uncrossed her arms, and kissed her. She smiled against the kiss and wrapped her arms around his neck. He broke the kiss to look at her, smiled, and placed a tender kiss onto her lips before saying, “Wait for me in the couch, okay, love?”