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It has been a strange couple of days, and all because of one Erica Flynn. After being given temporary release from jail to assist in a case, she did her best to make those days memorable, to leave a lasting impression on all those (mainly men) who she came in contact with. She has an air about her that screams alluring femininity which she uses to her advantage. Her manipulation skills are second to none.
Ms. Flynn is now on the run, having finished the case and somehow arranged to getaway. Now, most of law enforcement in the state of California are looking for her… apart from Patrick Jane. It humours him that she got away.
It would be naïve to say that Erica does not, did not, have some kind of effect on him because she did, although he was not a fan of the feeling. He didn’t like being another man whose head she got inside. He doesn’t like anyone getting in his head, even tempting, beautiful women.
Jane is drinking some tea in his loft space whilst watching the rain hammer down, thinking about how glad he is that he isn’t out looking for the fugitive right now in such weather. It isn’t really his job anyway. He is just the consultant.
On hearing footsteps, he turns his head slightly and he knows who it is before she speaks. Her footfall is light but determined, accentuated by the heels on her boots. “The U.S. Marshals are helping with the search.” It is almost like she is alerting him, warning him that if he has anything to do with this then he needs to cough up, now. “She’s been flagged on flight lists and all border crossings.”
“You’re wasting your time.”
“Thanks for your optimism.” Her derision is obvious and even more so when she steps into view. Lisbon is not happy. “I have to ask, Jane. Did you know Erica was gonna do this?”
If the situation wasn’t as serious as it is then she would definitely be in one of those “I told you so” moods towards the curly-haired consultant and her youth-faced superior. She said that releasing her from prison would be a mistake.
However, losing a prisoner will cause a media crap-storm and many management meetings, so right now she cannot see the funny side. “Try to escape? Of course. I mean, who wouldn’t?” His casualness just annoys her further.
“You didn’t answer my question.”
“No, I didn’t…” He trails, enjoying pushing her buttons. “Answer your question.”
A stare that says a thousand words, but it isn’t just irritation, there is something else there. Something that makes Jane stop Lisbon from leaving. “Why does Erica get under your skin so much?” His question cuts through her sharply like a knife.
It is no secret that he gets on her nerves at times, but generally, at the end of the day, it is all worth it because they catch the bad guys and then move onto another case. This is different. This doesn’t feel like the case is closed. “Jane, she is a murderer on the loose.”
“She’s a manslaughter-er.”
“You’ve made that joke already.” She snaps before exhaling harshly and he can almost see the next question pop into her mind. In a cartoon, a light bulb would miraculously appear above her head. “Did something happen between you two, which is why you are defending her?”
The memory of the kiss in her hotel room flashes before his eyes. It was a strange moment for him because it made him realise that he was more under the thumb of Ms. Erica Flynn than he thought. He felt vulnerable. Jane doesn’t like feeling vulnerable, and more so, doesn’t like showing it. “Why? Are you jealous?”
Like always when he gets too uncomfortable facing his emotions, he creates a distraction, a screen, and maddening for Lisbon in this instance it means putting all focus on her, and his question stops her dead in her tracks. “I’m sorry?”
“Just that.” He shrugs, like it is nothing. “Why are you jealous about if anything happened between Erica and me?”
He can be a cruel man at times and the longer she has known him, the more it hurts in these moments. At the beginning, when he was a broken widower, it didn’t really bother her because they weren’t friends, and she was a begrudging colleague of his. Now, she believes that they are close but when he acts like an unpleasant ass, she has to assess their friendship status.
The sound of his phone ringing from the table fills the echoey space. It is loud, but not loud enough to hide the heavy rain and apparently not loud enough to aggravate him. “You should get that.” She points out to him, but he doesn’t move a muscle.
“If it is important then they will leave a message.” He lets it ring out. “This is more important.”
It almost flatters her that their conversation is more important than whoever is calling him, but she would much rather he picked up so she could run away. Not just physically but almost emotionally, away from her thoughts. “I don’t know Jane.” She sighs with a slight shake of the head. Lisbon looks defeated and that confuses him. This was just meant to be a way to shift the focus off him, but he can see that he has unlocked something within her. She is actually going to answer him. “How I’ve felt the past few days has been ugly. I don’t know why I am even jealous about Erica when-”
“Wait, so you admit you have been jealous?” He looks baffled, an expression that she quickly mimics. What is going on? “I was only playing. I didn’t really think you were green with envy.”
This entire situation has completely floored and puzzled her. He was playing her? Of course, he was. The unkind Patrick Jane has made an appearance tonight and if she wasn’t so embarrassed to have fallen for it then she would definitely be more visibly upset. Instead, she blushes and becomes increasingly flustered. “I can’t do this now.” She is quick to say, and he observes her metaphorical walls going up as she talks quickly. “There is paperwork, and Wainwright he is-”
“Teresa.” The sound of her first name halts her suddenly. He reads her expression. She looks nervous, a little panicked, maybe even scared… like her emotions are too much for her to handle. The woman who usually holds herself so well and shuts away anything that she doesn’t want others to see. That woman isn’t here tonight.
There are also the black bags lining her eyes, the past few days with Erica on the scene has really taken it out of her. He feels bad. “Let me drive you home.”
His offer flummoxes her. Perhaps, because it is so out of the blue but also the manner, he puts it to her is so caring. Seconds ago, he was so mean but now he appears to want to make amends. “But my car… and Wainwright.” She tries to make her excuses.
“Wainwright is the boss, not you. He needs to tidy up his mess.” He is right of course. Since Supervising Agent Luther Wainwright has been on the scene, Lisbon has found it difficult to adjust to having a superior so young. He is not a terrible boss but definitely out of his depth. “And don’t worry about your car, I will pick you up in the morning.”
The truth is, he is a little concerned about her. He is a man who is so used to running on little to no sleep and he knows that she is probably better than most at doing the same, but today she looks exhausted, and he cannot help but feel a little guilty. His teasing and secretive actions surrounding Erica has caused this.
If this had a happened a few years previously she would have told him where to go. Called him out for being so insensitive before marching off. Then again, a few years ago his actions wouldn’t have hurt her so much. The truth is that she has been battling her inner feelings as of late and she is too scared to face that, even now. “Okay.”
That doesn’t mean he can’t just drive her home.
It isn’t long before they’re in his car and leaving the CBI compound. She asked Cho to deliver a message to Wainwright, to tell him that she is heading home and that she will speak to him tomorrow before she and Jane left. Their colleague saw them leave, and although his expression didn’t change, seeing them leave together did create some questions. Not that he will ever say anything to anyone.
They have the radio on as they drive because neither of them is feeling all that chatty. Some kind of smooth jazz fills the vehicle, music that definitely helps the brunette relax and he senses her sink into the passenger’s seat.
She could easily fall asleep but that’s the last thing he wants because he thinks a talk is needed, and he knows that once she has rested that won’t happen. She will close off from him and he doesn’t want that. He needs to know about the jealousy she has been experiencing… why? He doesn’t really know.
It is curse in a way. Once he has questions, he has to seek the answers, like an addiction. “The moon looks lonely tonight.” He comments, which forces Lisbon to sit-up properly and search for the bright object in the sky. She understands what he means.
The darkness that surrounds them is eerie but there is this one attention-grabbing thing which illuminates the night sky. “No stars.” She frowns and continues to fixate on the moon that is displayed as a crescent shape tonight. “It is weird. To see such a beautiful thing alone, without the stars it seems so desolate and sad.”
Patrick frowns at this and glances up at the natural satellite before briefly peering at his friend beside him. There is something about the words she chose that makes him gloomy. Maybe because to him it seems like her statement was metaphor and she is the moon. What he doesn’t know is that to her, he is the moon in this equation.
“The stars are there.” He softly utters, “It is cloudy tonight. They are just hidden; we are fortunate to see the moon peeping between the clouds.” She looks up at the sky once more and when she tries to really focus, she can see the outline of some of the clouds. It makes her smile, like she is relieved. “The moon is never truly alone.”
Lisbon does feel lonely sometimes. Not at work because she has a team around her, like a family, but on occasion when she is at home with no distractions, she wonders what her life would be like if she had someone. She puts these instances down as moments of weakness. She is quick to forget them, especially when she goes back into the CBI and sees her consultant lounging on his couch.
It may sound harsh, but it comforted her that she knew someone lonelier than her. Even better that it is someone who she cares a great deal about. Perhaps, that’s why she experienced such jealousy when Erica forced her way back on the scene.
When they arrive at her apartment, Jane is surprised that he is invited inside. Obviously, it is what he wanted but he thought he was going to have to make some excuse as to why it must happen. “You never did answer my question.” She comments, as she fills two glasses with a Merlot that she had opened a few nights ago, after a particularly taxing day.
“Hm?” He hums and keeps an eye on the bottle which she has now discarded on the coffee table, wondering if it was Erica’s presence that made her turn to the bottle.
“Did anything happen between you two?”
“Between Erica and I?” He asks and she nods.
What he wants to do is to lie, not necessarily to her but to himself. He is ashamed that he became influenced by her and the last thing he wants to do is acknowledge that. But looking into his dear friend’s eyes, he doesn’t think he is able to deceive her. Not this time.
The blonde man looks down into his glass of wine which she takes as an admission of guilt that makes her tense. He senses this and a familiar remorseful sensation hits his stomach. His blue eyes snap back up to meet her green ones as he confesses. “We kissed, but it meant nothing.” He doesn’t know why he has to clarify this, but he feels the need. “You know what she is like. It was like I was bewitched.”
He is making excuses which shows her that he ashamed about his actions. Why this is, she doesn’t know, but one thing she does know is that his declaration feels like a stab to her heart – and that frightens her.
Awaiting her reaction is both difficult and troubling, he can see that she is trying to hide something. Hurt? It looks like it, but she is concealing it very well. She distracts him by taking a sip of her red wine which gives her enough time to think of something to say. Anything. “Was it strange to kiss someone who isn’t your wife?”
She is fairly certain that he has kissed a few times since her death but definitely not many, and in this situation, she is simply copping out from giving him a reaction that he will potentially desire. Maybe he enjoys making her feel jealous. She wouldn’t put it past him. “Surprisingly not… but my wife has been dead for quite some time now.”
Is he hinting to her that he is ready to move on? With Erica? No, even he wouldn’t be so stupid to get with a convicted felon. Maybe there is someone else. “I can’t believe you kissed Erica.”
It comes out before she even realises what is happening, and immediately she is embarrassed whilst he cannot hide his shock at her forwardness. His actions must have really appalled her, but it is more than that.
Earlier, when she admitted her jealousy, he was shocked but now it is obvious to him. Why she is jealous though is something that he cannot get his head around. “Why are you jealous, Teresa?” He speaks delicately, and the use of her first name sends a shiver down her spine which she hopes he doesn’t notice. He does.
This entire situation is so uncomfortable for the both of them but right now her mortification definitely trumps his awkwardness. “I don’t understand it.” She talks so quietly that he can barely hear her, and that’s because she is terrified, and he knows it. “It felt so unfamiliar.”
“You know that you can trust me, right?”
Lisbon remembers the time when he was appalled to learn that she didn’t trust him. It was a few years ago now and it ended up with them participating in a trust fall exercise. She remembered how certain she was that it wasn’t going to work but now, she wonders if it did. She nods at him, eliciting a small smile from the mentalist.
It is a cute smile. In the dim light of her living room, thanks to some lightbulbs needing replacing, with the darkness outside, it makes him look good. Not like he doesn’t good usually but there is something about the glow in this room which makes him look at peace. A look that she apparently finds very attractive, and that is daunting.
At first, she thought her jealousy was about Erica’s effect on all the men in the office, but now she realises that it is the obvious effect she had on her partner. But she isn’t going to tell him that. It will cause his ego to double in size, that she is sure of. “There is nothing else to say.”
Her cowardice makes him groan with a roll of his eyes, something that makes her feel not only very small but also exasperated. She is obviously secreting information from him and that frustrates him greatly. “So much for trusting me.” He grunts.
Jane’s main vexations are aimed at her stubbornness for not admitting whatever feelings she has about this topic of conversation. Lisbon doesn’t believe he has a right to experience such irritations, in this situation she thinks that she is the victim, and his attitudes cause her blood to boil.
The clink of her glass as it roughly comes in contact with the coffee table grates through him, and very quickly he realises that he has made a mistake. He shouldn’t have been so stroppy. It is not a good idea at the best of times but right now the agent is tired and emotional, her already short fuse is up in smoke. “Trust.” She mutters with a sharp shake of her head.
“Lisbon, I shouldn’t have-” He tries to say, whilst also putting down his glass on the wooden surface, but she interrupts him.
“Jane, I want to trust you!” She shouts, a pleading looks etched onto her pained features. “But you were going to keep your relations with Erica a secret, and that doesn’t sit well with me!”
“Why does it matter? It was one kiss!” He is already incensed with this topic of conversation, but he has a feeling that they are only just getting started.
“With a convicted felon who we were meant to be keeping under surveillance! Not snogging!”
The pair have raised their voices as they get increasingly aggravated. It is a sound which bewilders her downstairs neighbour who usually does not hear a peep from the tenants above. “People kiss all of the time!”
“You are not people!’
Jane has a feeling that he should be offended by this comment but actually, a part of him understands. It was out of character for him, but that doesn’t mean he shouldn’t be allowed, and he is definitely not letting her win. He will show her! He thinks.
Without thinking, he launches forward and connects his lips with hers.
It is an angry move, to try and show her why she needn’t be upset about something that means nothing; but instead of a quick peck, they both end up melting into one and other. Instinctively he shuffles up closer to her and gently rests his hands on her waist whilst she tangles her fingers in his curls, the sensation of her pulling at the locks makes him moan.
Suddenly all the jealousy, all the tension, doesn’t matter. Neither of them is truly processing what they’re doing but focussing on how making out like two randy teenagers is making them feel.
The surprise she experienced when his mouth first hit her has gone because her senses are overloaded with pleasure. Who knew Patrick Jane was such a good kisser? If she did know that, then maybe she wouldn’t have waited until now to try it.
His original plan to give her a hurried smooch to create some sort of rise out of her flew out of the window almost as quickly as it entered. One taste of her scrumptious lips has intoxicated him. All logic and being led by his brain have disappeared, his heart has now taken over the control and it wants him to keep going and sod the consequences.
When oxygen starts to feel a little thin, Lisbon forces herself off him. She observes him as he tries to read her reaction, his expression is blank because he is exhibiting a poker face, masking his emotions once more. He wants to know her response before he says a word. “Wait, what are we doing?” She asks in a low voice, sounding uncertain but also not totally opposed to it.
“What does it look like we are doing? Kissing of course.” Is he ever not a smartass?
Her eyes flicker between his, down to his tempting lips and then back up to his baby blues once more. “Of course.” She lightly laughs, perhaps out of nervousness more than anything else.
“Do you want to stop?” No, she does not, and that is dangerous to her. One hit and she is hooked, like he is carrying the same power as an addictive, illegal substance. It is like she needs to arrest herself to stop this from going any further. “Lisbon?”
The thick silence is worrying to him added to her growing uncertainty. Jane didn’t mean for this happen; it was meant to be a quick kiss to prove a point, but a different kind of need took him over. Has he ruined this? Has he ruined their friendship once and for all? “Maybe I should get going.” He comments, as he begins to get to his feet. The grabbing of his wrist by her soft hand forces him to a stop.
“Stay.” She requests, “Please.”
This might all be very scary to her but the last thing she wants is for him to feel bad, bad enough to run away. She knows him. He will hide and wallow for days and that would hurt her too much.
Patrick half-nods at her, before sitting back down on the comfortable couch. Even when she releases her hold on him, it feels like her hand is still there, like it has burnt an impression on his skin. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.” He expresses and she can tell from his tone and slight crack in his voice that he is being entirely truthful. The words came from his heart.
“I know.” She affectionately then takes a grasp of one of his hands and holds it in hers. “It isn’t your fault, it all got to me.”
Perhaps, this should make sense but in actuality he remains guilt-ridden. “I could see that her being there was making you uncomfortable and I didn’t do anything about it. In fact, I enabled it and as your partner that is unforgiveable, and unprofessional.”
She finds herself smiling at his admission, not because it is at all good but because it has dawned on him how unprofessional he can be at times. Truthfully, he is a nightmare of a partner to have but as she tells anyone who articulates any dismay about the mentalist, he closes cases.
However, she realises in this moment that it is more than that. She likes him, and if tomorrow he announced his departure from the CBI, she would feel lost. “It’s okay. I knew what I was getting into when I signed on with you.” She closes her statement with big yawn that she attempts to cover with her hand.
Exhaustion definitely played a part in their disagreements this evening, but actually there was something about an envious Lisbon which flipped a switch within him. “You should go to bed.”
“Will you come with me?” Her question grounds him, evident by the look of surprise on his face when he raises his brow.
It could be said that there has been some kind of sexual chemistry bubbling between them for quite some time, if the gossip back at CBI is anything to go by. “To bed?” Their compatibility isn’t something that is unknown to them, more that they’ve been hiding from it.
“Yeah…” The territory they’re entering is risky, they both know that, but they’re drunk with emotion right now. “No funny business… I just don’t really want to be alone tonight.”
Her vulnerability makes his heart ache and quickly all rational thought dissipates, because truth be told, he feels the same. “Perhaps, we could be the stars to each other’s moon.” The use of their newfound metaphor makes her smile before she gets up off the sofa and finds herself leading him to her bedroom.
The sudden nervousness when they enter is massive and quickly her confidence falters. An awake, on the ball Teresa Lisbon would be screaming at her to stop if she could, but right now her need for him to stay outplays all rationality. “Lisbon, I can still go, it’s okay.” He sounds concerned about her silence, which she appreciates but the small smile she sends him quashes any worries.
“No, please stay.” She pleads, “I want you to stay. Doesn’t mean it won’t feel a little odd.”
He watches her then root around her dresser for something and miraculously she produces a men’s hockey jersey out of nowhere. Jane cannot hide his perplexity. “It belonged to my brother, Jimmy. He played a bit.” She answers his unasked question. “He gave it to me when I left for college.”
Lisbon holds out the red and navy jersey to her guest who takes it from her with a nod of thanks. She then leaves him to change whilst she goes to use the bathroom and get dressed herself. He uses this time to inspect her room, having never been in such a personal place of hers before he finds it interesting to see how she lives when she is not at CBI.
Her bedroom is much tidier than he expected, he isn’t really sure why he pictured her to be messy when her office is far from it but maybe he expected her to live a bit looser at home. The furniture is all quite basic but nice, does the job and don’t look like any of the pieces will fall apart anytime soon. There is a wardrobe, a chest of drawers and two bedside tables – all of which are painted white.
On the drawers there is a small-ish mirror propped up against the wall with various skin products and make-up items surrounding it. There are also some photos in frames: two of them are pictures with her three brothers, one from when she was about fifteen and the other when she was a little older. What surprises him about the final frame is that it is a family photograph, from he guesses shortly before her mother passed, but it includes her father.
She doesn’t really talk about her family, but his understanding is that she didn’t have much of a relationship with her dad. He was an abusive drunk. So, the fact that there is a photo of him in her house at all is definitely a shock. Maybe, Jane doesn’t know her as well as he thought he did.
It is easy to determine which side of the bed she sleeps on. Not only are the blue sheets slightly more ruffled on the left, but the table at its side is much more cluttered than the right, it only has lamp on it.
On her bedside table, she has a coaster with an empty glass on, a digital alarm clock which reads the time “23:05”, a half-read novel that looks to be some kind of romantic story and another picture frame. This one is small, square-shaped framing what looks to be, on closer examination, a polaroid of her mom holding her as a baby. He finds himself smiling at this.
When he hears movement in the corridor, the blonde skips around to the other side of the bed and slides under the covers; now just wearing the hockey jersey and his boxers. Lisbon returns looking surprisingly relaxed in some grey chequered pyjama pants with a black tank top. On seeing him cosy in her bed, she unwinds further.
He looks very much at home there, she thinks, before she joins him under the covers. Neither of them knows what to say, this situation being very new to the both of them, so instead she tries to play it safe. She switches off the lamp at her bedside with a, “Goodnight Jane”, before snuggling into the sheets.
“Goodnight Lisbon.”
They make sure that they stay on each of their sides, like there is an invisible wall built between them, restraining them from crossing the threshold. However, neither of them can sleep. They may not be looking at each other but they know that the other is still awake despite their apparent tiredness. Now, they are wired. “Lisbon.”
“Yes Jane?”
The curly-haired man pauses momentarily before carefully asking, “Do you forgive me?”
“Forgive you?” Her confusion is clear in her tone.
“For what happened with Erica.”
Erica. She has definitely heard that name too many times today and it just increases her weariness. She honestly hopes that she never has to see or hear about Erica Flynn ever again. “Do you know where she is?”
“No.”
“Did you know that she was going to escape?”
“It didn’t surprise me, but I didn’t know. No.”
She can tell that he is speaking the truth, this time Jane isn’t trying to deceive her. “Then yes, I forgive you.” He is more than relieved about this, he didn’t want that whole debacle hanging over him, hanging over them. “You are in my bed, not hers, so I guess I won.”
He can hear the humorous notes in her drawl, and it makes him grin. “If I knew I was the prize in some competition, I would have shaved this morning.”
“You’re more of a catch then you make yourself out to be. More than even I thought…” On hearing her turn silent, Patrick’s joyous expression changes into one more of trepidation. “My own emotions scare me. That’s not good is it?”
He knows that her question is rhetorical, but he also understands how she feels. He has never been good at displaying his emotions but when his wife and daughter were killed, he started to hide from himself even more. It is terrifying to him, letting anyone else close to him in case of what happens to them but right now, he feels surprisingly safe.
Lying next to her he is calm and at ease, and he wants her to be the same way. Tentatively, he shuffles closer to her and she is aware of his closeness by the warmth radiating off his body and the mattress dipping slightly. Goosebumps appear on her form as she eagerly awaits his next move, is Jane going to cuddle her?
It is not his strong arms that she then senses but instead his lips once more, as they delicately touch her cheek, kissing her softly. “You don’t have to be scared.” He whispers warmly, before he begins to trail kisses down her jawline and then onto her neck. The action not only makes her skin tingle with excitement but also elicits a moan from her own lips.
It is a very loving thing to do and quickly Lisbon resigns herself to the fact that Patrick Jane is no longer just her friend, her partner, or her consultant… he is so much more than that, and although that does still alarm her, she is okay with it.
Especially if he keeps kissing her like this. “Can I hold you?” He murmurs against her ear, the vibrations from his voice tickle her well-kissed skin.
“Yes.” She cannot really believe that it was her own lips that muttered this single-syllabled word. If you told Teresa Lisbon this morning that by the end of the day, she will be in bed with her mentalist friend, she would not have believed it, but now she is here, she is glad to be in this position.
After recognising her reply, he slides his arms around her waist and pulls her beautiful form closer into him so that he is able to comfortably spoon her. They’ve certainly breached the threshold now; this is too intimate for them to awake tomorrow and claim to be only friends.
In his arms she is protected and loved, and as he nestles his face into her neck she is not at all perturbed when he inhales her scent. To her that seems an affectionate action. She smells like cinnamon and cocoa butter, he assumes from some kind of shower product, but also of rain, earth, and the city smoke. She smells like Lisbon.
He feels her drift off in his arms, she must have really been exhausted, and to his surprise it isn’t long before he falls asleep too.
--------------------
When Lisbon’s alarm rings Jane is still lying next to her, he groans at the noise while pinching the bridge of his nose as she switches off the racket. She is surprised that he remained in bed all night, not because she thought he would sneak off or anything, but because he is a textbook insomniac… or that’s what she thought. “What time is it?” He moans and peers over at her with only one eye open – and that one is squinting.
It is a funny sight, a half-asleep Patrick Jane, with his hair all tousled and expression drowsy. “Six o’clock.” She tells him before climbing out of the bed, getting prepared for her normal morning routine, although this morning isn’t exactly ordinary. She doesn’t usually wake up with a man in her bed, especially on a workday and especially not him.
She is amazed at herself for not freaking out about their current predicament, but truthfully, she feels good. She slept great beside him. “Six? In the morning?” He sounds horrified, “Why do you set your alarm for six, woman?”
“Because I get up, go for a quick run around the block, come back, shower and then get ready for the workday.” This is only on the days where her sleep doesn’t get disrupted by a body suddenly turning up, on those days she gives herself an extra half an hour sleep and skips the run. Weekends she will spend the entirety of in bed if she is allowed. “Are you coming?”
“On a run?” He is obviously disgusted at the notion. “Definitely not.”
“Okay. You stay in bed then.” To be honest, she is relieved, she didn’t think he would want to join her in her morning exercise but as soon as she offered there was a slight feeling of dread in her stomach. She prefers to go alone. “We need to leave here by half seven to make it to the office for eight.”
This is entire situation all seems so…natural? The domesticity suits them, and it surprises both of them that they seem to be taking it all in their stride. Maybe jealousy forces us to make leaps we perhaps wouldn’t do otherwise. They don’t really know, but what they do know is that they enjoyed not waking up alone today, and Jane had the best night sleep he has had in an age.
They hit the road in his clapped-out Citroen a little after half past seven. Her refreshed after a shower and sporting one of his favourite blouses on her, a deep green number, whilst he is wearing the same clothes from the day before. Their colleagues are unlikely to notice as he wears the same few suits on rotation, but he will have to change his shirt when he gets in; luckily, he has a spare or two in his loft space.
It is a nice atmosphere though, they are both relaxed and refreshed from their restful night, and this morning hasn’t been as awkward as either of them expected. Maybe, this can work. “I told you I would take you to work today.” He breaks the comfortable silence as they drive through the centre of Sacramento.
“When you said that I didn’t think it would mean you would stay the night…” They laugh at her comment, because it is true. He drove her home out of both guilt and concern, he thought that after a brief chat he would return to CBI. Oh, how he was wrong. “Jane…”
“Lisbon.”
“We need to talk about last night. Don’t we?” Lisbon doesn’t sound so sure herself, but she doesn’t think she can just go about her day not knowing what their plans are.
“I agree.” His short answer forms a ball of anxiety inside of her because it is hint that it is over, whatever they briefly had, and she doesn’t think that she wants that. In fact, she knows that she doesn’t. “How about over dinner?”
“Dinner?” He can hear the grin in her voice. “Sounds good.”
That kiss last night unlocked something. In both of them. Maybe even asserted suspicions that they already had.
For Jane, it made him realise that yes, he kissed Erica and although it was a good kiss, it really meant very little. One good thing it did was it made him acknowledge that he is ready to move on… but not with Erica Flynn. Definitely not her.
With Lisbon? Maybe. If that’s what she wants. He believes that he would be extremely happy with her and would love to be the man to worship her, he practically does already. It will not be easy, and they know that. The amount of emotional baggage the pair carry, for example, would sink a cruise ship. Neither of them can escape their past but that doesn’t mean they can’t help each other through it.
She worries about what will happen the next time Red John inevitably pops up again and he worries about how she will feel doing something so taboo as dating her consultant. However, they both think that the pros outweigh the cons.
If anything does happen between them, more than the kissing last night and the sharing of a bed, then Jane believes he owes Erica Flynn a drink… wherever she is. And to be honest, Lisbon would be inclined to agree.
She hated the jealousy she experienced and hopes to never be familiar with such torrid emotion again but, all’s well that ends well.