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“You know, the team’s coming over tonight,” Lisbon remarked as she sipped her coffee.
“They are? Why?”
“Thursday night football, Jane. Have I not taught you anything?”
He considered this. “Usually, I just watch you instead of the game. Your reactions tell me everything I need to know, and besides, it’s cute when you yell at the players as if they can hear you.”
She blushed. “Yelling at football is just what people do. It’s not that unusual.”
“That may be true, but looking adorable while shouting at the TV is unusual. You should be happy, it makes you very rare.”
Lisbon stood up and put their dishes in the sink. She paused for a moment, then said, “Do you even know how to play football?”
“Not in the slightest.”
She gaped. “But you’ve watched every Bears game with me since the beginning of the season!”
“As I mentioned earlier, I spent most of that time watching you,” Jane said. “I’ve never really had much of an interest in football, playing or watching it. But I can see how much you love it, so I’m willing to watch games with you.”
Lisbon couldn’t believe what she was hearing. On the one hand, it was incredibly sweet of him to watch games with her even though he didn’t understand what was going on. No one else she knew would be willing to spend hours sitting through a football game just because they wanted to spend time with her. That being said, Jane was just like that. She also couldn’t believe that he had never played a game of football in his life. When she was a kid, her neighborhood would do pickup games. Lisbon had always been small for her age, especially when she was really young, and yet she made one of the best football players in her elementary school.
“You’ve never played either then?” she asked incredulously. “Surely some of the other kids would have played a game?”
“Meh. They would play, I just didn’t have an interest in joining them.”
“Jane,” she laughed. “How do you know you won’t like something if you don’t even give it a fair shot?”
"Tackling people to the ground is your thing, not mine. Although I should probably read up on the rules before tonight, I don't want to look like a fool in front of everyone," he said.
"You won't. I played all the time when I was younger, as long as you have some semblance of who to cheer for and when you'll be fine."
Jane looked at his watch. "We have all day. I can memorize some stats and learn some rules before tonight."
"But you don't have to. Everyone knows you don't enjoy sports," Lisbon protested.
"Just because I don't enjoy sports doesn't mean that I can't learn to appreciate them. Especially when my girl is such a die-hard fan."
Lisbon grabbed her leather jacket off the hook by the door. "You can read all about football once we get to work. And if you do well, maybe we can graduate from just watching football to playing it."
He grinned. "I don't know about that. I might be a little scared to face off against you. After all, you did play linebacker when you were little, didn't you?"
"How did you know?" she asked in surprise. "I never told you that!"
"Not in so many words, no."
"Then how?"
"You're always saying that the team needs to tighten up their defensive line. You enjoy tackling people, and you're good at it, too, leading me to believe that you had some experience tackling or holding people off in a competitive setting." He ran a hand through his hair. "And also linebacker is the only defensive position I know."
"You're right. I was the smallest, but I'd venture to say I was one of the best linebackers we had."
Jane smiled. "That's my girl."
Her expression turned wistful for a moment, no doubt remembering easier times from her childhood.
"I remember one time a new kid asked me why they let me play as a linebacker. I think his name was Damon," she said, furrowing her brow. "But that's not important. Anyways, he was trying to get me to switch positions with him because he thought I was too tiny to be good. My brother Tommy was our team's quarterback, and he said that if Damon could tackle me in a scrimmage, he'd get to be linebacker."
Jane loved hearing stories about Lisbon's childhood. Neither of them had been given much of a chance as kids, but he enjoyed hearing about her life before they met. She didn't talk much about her family, but when she did, he paid close attention.
"And did he beat you?" Jane asked.
"Nope!" Lisbon said gleefully. "I was so determined not to give up my spot and lose my reputation that as soon as the ball was snapped, I threw myself on top of him. I think Damon got put in the end position. Either that or Tommy kicked him off the team, I don't remember. Either way, it was humiliating for him to lose to a tiny elementary school girl."
Jane could practically picture a little Teresa Lisbon tackling kids twice her size on the football field. It seemed to him that she was really just destined to be a cop.
"Now I wish I knew you when you were younger," Jane joked.
"No, you don't. I was pretty cold as a teenager, I had other priorities than making friends. Or going out with guys," she said.
Jane completely understood what she meant. He had some of the same things going on while he was growing up.
"No more time for reminiscing, though," Lisbon told him. "We have to get to work."
They had given up on taking separate cars to work, no longer needing the illusion of them being apart. The entire team had already found out about their relationship, and since they were living together it made more sense to just take one car. Saving on gas money and all.
It was a great system at first, but Jane, being Jane, occasionally would need to follow up on a lead without telling Lisbon, essentially stranding her without a car. There had been plenty of times that Van Pelt had to give her a ride somewhere because of it, much to Lisbon's annoyance.
But he always explained his reasons for leaving her behind, and he never did it to get away from her. In fact, he spent almost all of his free time with her, even choosing to sit on the couch in her office instead of his couch in the bullpen.
When they got to the office, he asked to borrow Van Pelt's laptop, claiming he had to follow up on something. She was immediately suspicious because usually, Jane was anti-technology, but chalked it up to being one of his schemes or ways to annoy Lisbon. Nevertheless, she handed it over, and he went to relax in Lisbon's office and learn about some football.
He had only been there for about five minutes before he asked, "So what all do I need to know? Rules, stats, player's names?"
She set down her pen and stared at him. "I don't know why you suddenly decided you need to know everything there is to know about football, but I would suggest learning the rules and plays, as well as some player's names. It's a good place to start."
So he opened up a new webpage as well as a new wing in his memory palace to accommodate everything there was to know about Lisbon's beloved Bears.
At around ten, no new cases had come in, so Lisbon decided to take a break.
“Mind if I join you?” she asked, standing in front of the couch.
“Mmm. I’m kind of laying here already.”
“Then move.”
“No, I think I’m comfortable where I am, thanks.”
Lisbon knew exactly what he was doing. He did it all the time. Refusing to do things simply to annoy her, only to repay her later by doing something incredibly sweet and touching. As nice as that was, he was just trying to get a rise out of her.
“I will sit on you,” she threatened. “Don’t think for a moment that I won’t.”
“I believe you.”
“Then scoot!”
Jane pretended to think about it, but then said, “Nope.”
“Fine,” she huffed. “Desperate times call for desperate measures.”
And with a final warning issued, she sat on him, just like she said she would. Much to her surprise, he didn’t move, just let out a little grunt as she moved her full weight to his calves. She didn’t weigh much, but it was uncomfortable to have his leg movement restricted.
“Okay, okay,” he caved. “I’ll move.”
Lisbon smiled happily as he made room for her on the couch, craning her neck to see the computer screen. This was exactly the sort of thing that she would have frowned upon months ago when Rigsby and Van Pelt had announced their relationship. It wasn’t that she was anti-romance, quite the opposite in fact, but it was more that she didn’t think it was okay to blend work life and personal life.
Of course, then Jane had come along and turned her viewpoints upside down and backwards. Lisbon refused to admit it, but her opinions on public displays of affection had drastically changed in the past month or so. She was content to sit on the couch in her office with him, even though the blinds were open because suddenly she didn’t care if everyone in the CBI knew that she and Jane were together. It didn’t matter to her what they thought, their relationship was completely legal. She had checked the company policy.
At first, she thought he was a selfish, insufferable, depressed man, but as time went on she realized that was just what he wanted people to think. In all actuality, he was a sweetheart, always willing to go out of his way to prove his affection for her.
And as nice as that was, she sometimes felt that it was a deep-seated need to prove his worth that forced him to be that way.
“What are you reading?” she asked.
“Just catching up on everything I’ve missed in the last fifty years,” Jane replied casually. “It’s all simple memorization.”
“There’s a difference between memorizing something and actually understanding it, though. You do realize that you can’t possibly learn the ins and outs of football in a day, right?”
“Sure I can,” he said. “I have a good teacher.”
“And who is that?” she asked sarcastically. “Professor Wikipedia?”
“No need to get snippy,” Jane said, poking her in the ribs. “Obviously, you’re going to be my teacher.”
“What? Jane, come on, you know I’m no good at this whole memory palace gambit.”
“You don’t need to be. All you have to do is teach me how to football, and I’ll be all set.”
“Teach you how to football,” she repeated, raising her eyebrows at his slip-up.
“You knew what I meant. I’ve memorized players’ names and championship wins as well as trivia, but I keep studying these rules without any practical application, and I am lost,” he admitted.
“You’ve memorized all of the players’ names?”
“Well, only the ones that are playing this season. It didn’t make sense to have to remember people whose games I won’t even be watching.”
“Impressive. That’s a lot of people.”
“Well, there's Mitch Trubisky and Nick Foles, Khalil Mack, Allen Robinson, David Montgomery, Tarik Cohen, Artavis Pierce, Ryan Nall, James-”
“Got it,” Lisbon interrupted. “I already know the players’ names. You only need help with understanding the rules, then?”
“Yes. Reading it and not seeing it is difficult.”
“Okay. I can help until one, but I have some meetings this afternoon that I can’t miss, so after that, you’re on your own. What have you gone over so far?” she asked, settling down beside him.
“Scoring and penalties.”
“How many points is a field goal worth?”
“Three,” he replied promptly. “A touchdown is six, with the extra point it’s seven.”
Lisbon grinned, happy to finally feel like she was pulling one over on him in the knowledge department. “And if you get a two-point conversion?”
“Eight. And if a player is tackled in their endzone, it’s a safety, getting the other team two points.”
“Jane, it really seems like you understand this already. Are you sure you need my help?”
“Yes,” he whined. “You’re good at the practical application of this sort of thing, and all I can do is memorize. I want to actually know what I’m talking about when we watch the game tonight, thank you very much.”
Lisbon sighed. “If that’s true, you’re going to have to actually listen to me. It’s not easy to learn how to play football in a day, and we don’t even have the whole day.”
“Yes ma’am,” he teased. “I’m all ears.”
“We’re going to start with the gameplay. There are four quarters in a game, fifteen minutes each. The clock is stopped after certain plays and for timeouts and flags. At the beginning of the game, whichever team wins the coin toss can choose to kick off or receive the kickoff. At halftime, the team who lost the coin toss gets the same choice to start the last half of the game.”
He already looked confused. “Does it really matter whether you start or receive?”
“Sometimes it doesn’t,” Lisbon said. “It all depends on the team. A team with a stronger offense may choose to receive so that they can start with a potential lead.”
“I see.”
“The object of the game is to get the ball to the other team’s endzone and score. The offensive team has four ‘downs’ to move the ball ten yards, meaning that they have only have four attempts to get it to where it needs to be. A down is when the player holding the ball is tackled, steps out of bounds, or drops the ball. Sometimes the quarterback won’t have enough time to get a complete pass, or no one will be open, so he has no choice but to throw the ball away. If that happens, it’s another down.”
“What happens if they don’t move it ten yards?”
“If they can’t get it ten yards in that time, say, from here to here,” she gestured with her hands to try and illustrate her point. “Then they have to turn over possession of the ball to the other team.”
“And then they have to prevent the other team from scoring,” Jane finished.
“Exactly!”
“And if they do get it ten yards?”
“If they do, then the count of downs starts over. When the ball crosses the ten-yard mark and play stops, it’s called a first down. They then have three more plays to get it the rest of the way. It goes like that down the field until they’re in scoring range, or until they don’t get it ten yards in four downs.”
“That’s starting to make more sense,” Jane admitted. “I hear you talk a lot about defensive versus offensive players, what’s the difference?”
“Defensive players try to prevent the other team from scoring by tackling players and intercepting the ball. Offensive players try to score by passing or running the ball down the field.”
“And then there’s kicker and punter, right? The kicker scores field goals and extra points while the punter turns over control of the ball,” Jane guessed.
“Yes. So that’s basic gameplay, now we need to move on to penalties and special plays,” Lisbon decided. “Penalties are the actions you can get punished for. Because believe it or not, there are rules to this game, not just a bunch of big guys beating each other up.”
“Every time I try to watch a game with you, it just looks like pro boxing meets cross country.” He sat up a bit so he was facing her. “Don’t people get hurt?”
“It does happen a lot,” she admitted. “It’s a pretty dangerous game. Most people get off fairly easy, injuries-wise. Broken bones sprained, or torn muscles. The really unlucky people get concussions. It puts them out of play for months.”
Jane grimaced. “And you played when you were younger?”
He felt a surge of protectiveness towards her suddenly. Jane knew it was irrational, that it was in the past and there was nothing he could do, but the thought of Lisbon getting injured playing a stupid game, of being tackled by boys twice her size, angered him.
“I did. It’s childhood, Jane, games are rough and dangerous. It was actually really fun because it wasn’t like you could get in trouble. We weren’t fighting, just playing. And besides, I only broke a bone one time anyways.”
“What was it?”
“My wrist,” she said simply, holding up her right arm. “I went after someone, he went down wrong and landed on my arm. Broke my wrist, but it wasn’t too major. I got right back up.”
He caught her hand and pulled it to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to her wrist. “Brave girl.”
“Oh, shut up,” Lisbon said, blushing. “We’re running out of time, and I still have to cover penalties and specialty plays.”
Jane let go of her hand and listened intently.
“Penalties are when a player accidentally or deliberately breaks a rule of the game, and their entire team is punished for it. You can’t block below the waist on a player who doesn’t have the ball, nor can you hit a defending player at the knees. Grabbing an opponent by the mask is also illegal, and that’s a penalty that comes up fairly regularly.”
“What about the helmet?”
“You can’t intentionally hit someone with your helmet. That’s called spearing, and if two helmets collide, it’s also a penalty. Unsportsmanlike conduct is when an action is deemed objectionable by the game officials. The last major penalties are delay of game and false start. A false start happens when a player moves before the ball is snapped, and delay of game usually happens when a team purposely tries to stall for time to let the clock run down.”
“When you put it like that, it all sounds so simple. I feel like even I could play. But I’m sure it’s a lot more complicated than it sounds or looks on TV,” Jane surmised.
Lisbon heartily agreed. “In theory, it sounds so easy. But you need to have a lot of presence of mind to keep track of where the ball is in relation to all the other players.”
She ran Jane through some trick plays and specialty plays, specifically the fake fumble, bounce, Statue of Liberty, and the Philly Philly. The last one was her favorite, mostly because it was so unexpected.
But before long, she had to leave the quiet solace of her office for the buzzing boredom of monthly budget meetings and unit reports.
“I’ve got to go,” she said apologetically, looking at her watch. “I’ll be back in a couple of hours, and we can stop at the store on the way home. In the meantime, watch some of those football highlights videos for me. They look entertaining.”
“I will,” he promised, stopping her just before she walked out. “I have an errand to run, is it okay if I take the car?”
Lisbon knew better than to ask what he was doing. “Sure.”
_
After several mind-numbing hours of answering questions and taking notes in her meetings, Lisbon was ready to go home. She was prepared to plop down on her couch with a beer and watch the game. Walking into her office, she noticed that Jane wasn’t there. Instead, there was a note on her desk. It read:
T-
Please don’t be mad. I took the car, and I’m at home right now, I got tired of waiting. Call me, and I’ll swing by to pick you up, okay?”
Love you,
PJ
Furiously, she whipped out her phone and hit the first number on her speed dial.
“You had better have a good explanation for this,” Lisbon said, as soon as he picked up.
“I do. I went by the store already and got food and beer for when everyone gets here. I just figured that it didn’t make much sense for me to wait around at the office. Also, I have a surprise for you,” he said.
“Okay,” she mumbled. “Meet me outside the building in fifteen minutes.”
By the time Jane actually got there, Lisbon was freezing. She hopped in the car and turned the heat on full, pulling her jacket close to her body.
“Cold?” Jane asked sympathetically.
She nodded.
“You could have waited inside, you know.”
“Everyone else had already gone home, I didn’t want to wait alone,” she explained. Lisbon hadn’t taken into account the colder weather that they were having lately.
“I understand. Everyone will be there in about twenty minutes, and there’s no need to stop by the store because I already picked up pizza.”
She smiled at him gratefully. “You’re sweet. Thank you. I’m sorry I was mad earlier, I just was expecting you to still be at the office.”
“It’s alright,” he said, pulling the car into the parking lot of Lisbon’s apartment complex. “Don’t you want to know what the surprise is?”
“Do I?”
“I think so. Go put your stuff down, relax. I’ll show you.”
Lisbon gladly accepted his offer, tossing her work bag to the floor nearest the front door. She grabbed a beer and sat on the counter, dangling her legs off the edge. A moment later, Jane came back downstairs in a pair of his old jeans and, to her great surprise, a Walter Payton jersey.
“Jane!” she cried. “Where on earth did you find one of those in California?”
“I ordered it a few weeks ago, actually,” he admitted. “You probably don’t remember, but you were talking about Payton while you were watching a game. All I had to do was find out who he was and order the shirt. I noticed you had Aaron Lynch’s jersey, but not Walter Payton’s, so I got you one too, it’s up on the bed.”
She kissed him. “You are the sweetest. Really, you didn’t have to do that.”
“Nonsense, Lisbon. I have to show some pride for my new favorite team, don’t I? Besides, now we match.”
Quickly, she ran up and changed into her new jersey, loving the way it fell past her hips. It had been a long time since she had bought new fan gear for her favorite team, and it made it even more special that Jane had remembered what she had said about Payton being her favorite player.
Before long, the rest of the team got there, Rigsby bringing more beer and all the guys plopping down on Lisbon’s couch. Van Pelt pulled Lisbon aside to grab some pizza from the kitchen.
As they stood there, Van Pelt tried to hedge into what she really wanted to talk about. “So, I didn’t know Jane was into football,” she said.
“He’s not,” Lisbon replied. “At least, he wasn’t until today.”
Grace looked confused. “So it’s a recent thing?”
Lisbon took a bite of her pizza before saying, “I think it’s that he wants to spend time with me doing the things that I like to do. If that’s watching football, then so be it.”
“That’s sweet of him. Hey, that jersey looks new, when did you get it?”
“Tonight,” Lisbon admitted.
Van Pelt looked at her knowingly. “Jane.”
She nodded. “He’s got one too.”
“That’s adorable!” Grace squealed. “Seriously, you two are so cute together.”
Lisbon blushed as the guys walked into the kitchen to grab their pizza. Thankfully, Rigsby was oblivious to the matching jerseys, but Cho shot her a look. They ended up sprawled across her living room, Rigsby and Van Pelt on the couch, Cho in one chair, and jane in the other, with Lisbon sitting on the floor, back against his legs.
To her great delight, Jane enjoyed the game, cheering at the right times, and even naming plays the right way. The Bears were down a touchdown at the start of the second half, but pulled ahead in the last two quarters, winning the game 24-17. When everyone had left, Lisbon pulled on her jersey dress that served a dual purpose as a nightshirt and crawled into bed with Jane.
“That was fun,” he said, rolling to one side so that he could hold her. “It’s a lot more fun to watch sports when you understand what you’re watching.”
“And now that you get why I love it so much, maybe watching games together could be a regular thing?” she hinted.
“Absolutely. Anything for my girl.”
She smiled happily and cuddled into him. “I meant to say this earlier, but thank you for asking for help with the rules. I don’t have a lot of good memories from when I was little, and I had completely forgotten about elementary school football. It was nice to relive that for a little while.”
“Who said it had to be over? You said once I learned what football was, we could play.”
Lisbon sat up and rolled over to face him. “Do you mean that?”
“Of course I do. I want you to show me what you got, tough girl.”
“You’re so on.”
“I love you,” he said, kissing her neck softly.
“Love you too.”