Archive of Our Own

Jane was acutely aware of how off he was acting. Aware of his short, dry responses, of how he seemed a little more rude, a little more restless, like a child trying to get back at you for denying him something he really wanted. He couldn't help it, the one thing he actually wanted was now someone else's.

The interview with Mr Feinberg put them both in an uncomfortable spot. Him because of how he kept turning that day over and over inside his brain, examining it from all angles, as if to convince himself it wasn't what he thought it was, but the frustration of this one unsolvable puzzle was palpable in the way he provoked everyone around him with dry sarcasm.

And her, because she could tell that something bothered him, he made it her problem anyway. She wasn't sure what caused the change in behavior, but it meant she now had to control the damage until he figured himself out, and that could take days.

Naturally, driving back to the office was a drag. No radio, no chatting, nothing.

He was quiet, almost eerily so, looking ahead at the road while tapping his lips, deep in thought.

Lisbon arrived in a cab to the crime scene earlier. So cosmopolitan of her, he had said. Seeing her step out of it in the distance made his stomach drop, even after she assured it was because her car wouldn't start. He couldn't read her as well as he used to, so he didn't actually get any confirmation on her face or demeanor -- if she was lying, he couldn't tell. Plus, she very obviously deflected when he asked. The indifference was odd.

She said her date with Agent Pike went well. Which is great. Awesome. Really good.

Even better was when he heard they were already planning a second one. And right there, with him close by, too.

Wasn't it a little too soon, maybe? They just met, there's no way they were already that interested in each other. Right? Jane could swear they were going a tad too fast for his liking, but he wasn't thinking straight since the night before.

After the previous case was closed and he talked to the victim's wife to return the stolen painting, he went back to the bullpen to chat with her before she left -- almost expecting to go with her if she allowed it, maybe go out for dinner -- but his excitement was cut short by Pike's presence.

She didn't even need to say anything, it was written all over her face, those beautiful sage eyes as wide as can be, as if she got caught doing something she shouldn't.

He quickly recomposed himself, brushing it off playfully, telling them to have fun.

But as he watched them head to the elevator, Lisbon looking so into it, so interested, something very heavy sank into his core. Bile rose up to his throat, seeing that shy smile of hers directed towards someone else. Mr Art Attack over there made him feel like a rabid animal trapped in a cage.

He spent the night spiraling, first on his couch, then on his airstream when the sight of her empty desk became too hard to deal with. What were they doing? Was he charming her, drunk on her laughter? Was he telling her how lovely she looked when she scrunched up her nose with a shy curl of her lips? Was he complimenting her on how bright her smile was, how her eyes held the universe in their green depths? Was she curious about how another man that wasn't Jane could make her feel so many butterflies? Did she allow him in further than Patrick ever got to venture?

"The light's green, Jane." her voice cut through his thoughts and his eyes finally snapped up at the traffic light. Ah, yeah. They were on the road.

Right.

A little reckless of him to not pay attention, wasn't it? Thankfully the streets were a little emptier at this hour.

"Is everything okay? You're too quiet, it's uncanny." Teresa tried at something light, but he didn't smile. He simply looked at her for a split second, then returned his eyes to the street.

"Yeah, yeah, sorry," his voice was quiet "Just thinking."

Okay, yes, there was something definitely wrong, and he didn't even try to hide it. Her face grew worried, a small line appearing in between her brows as she kept looking at him, as if expecting more than just a wave of his hand.

He truly didn't have an answer. He was still trying to dissect the feeling, to name it and categorize it as something he probably shouldn't feel for her. Because he shouldn't, really. He had no right to be possessive, come on. They were grown adults, with their own separate lives. Not everything revolved around Patrick. If she wanted to go out and meet a nice guy who'd make her feel something other than irritation or exasperation like Jane did, she had all the right to. And he couldn't really blame her. A decade or so with him was more than enough, she deserved better.

And yet, the feeling kept growing, untamed and wild behind his ribs like a trapped bird looking for a way out.

So, he did what he could do best. Be dismissive and deflect, put on a mask and pretend like nothing was happening, until it didn't bother him anymore.

"Ah, it's nothing, really," he forced out a smile "Just thinking about the case. Nothing worth worrying about."

It wasn't exactly a lie, anyhow, and it seemed to have settled her slightly. She eyed him for a little longer, her features turning into a slight frown, but decided not to pry. She knew better.

A few minutes went by painfully slowly, until he decided to break the ice to ease the growing tension. In the worst way possible, naturally.

"Where did he take you?" Jane asked in the most casual tone, even if his insides twisted with something a little bitter. He did not want to find out.

"What?" Lisbon looked up at him, her brows furrowed slightly in confusion.

"Your date. Agent Pike. Where did he take you last night?"

Odd question to ask, at least like this. He definitely wouldn't overthink the way he said his name with such venom.

"We uh- we got pancakes." she replied shortly, her voice high pitched, looking back down at her Blackberry. She was being very evasive since morning, and it bothered him immensely.

Why was that? Why couldn't she tell him about it? Did it go so well she got shy over it? Was she aware of his jealous streak and afraid he'd ruin the fun? God, and that taxi was still in his mind...

Jane nodded slowly, humming.

"Was it good?"

"The pancakes? Yeah, I guess." again, short and succinct.

"And the date?" he insisted, finally looking at her for a second or two before looking back at the road "Was the date good? Did you enjoy it? You said it was okay, but-"

"What's with you today, anyway?" she was now annoyed, dropping her phone on her lap to look at him. "The whole day, you've been quiet and cryptic and off, but now you're suddenly interested- what's going on?"

Well.

At least that wasn't indifference. Annoyance he could deal with.

"I-It's nothing, I just... I care," he shrugged with a shoulder, glancing at her "You having fun, that's important to me."

"It's not 'nothing', Jane, you've been acting weird the whole day, and now it's even worse. What's bothering you so much?"

That's when he took a deep breath, his stomach twisting as he felt his mouth dry, like he just ate ashes. He wasn't ready for this conversation, not like this. She was getting angry, he was getting defensive, they'd end up saying things they didn't mean, and the carefully crafted relationship he's been trying to rebuild the past few months would go down the drain.

No, he had to be smart about it, which would be very difficult considering he felt himself about to descend into panic. He decided to be honest for once in this lifetime, maybe that way he'd be able to get to where he wanted to days ago. So finally he offered, his voice strained.

"Marcus Pike is what's bothering me."

Her brows furrowed even further "What?"

He eyed her for a moment, his face furrowing in despair as he bit his lip, considering.

"Marcus. He's bothering me. Since that day we went to the evidence locker to check on art we could use for the theft case... you two flirted and it started to bother me." A pause as he looked away, eyes back on the road.

Her eyebrows shot up and her jaw went slack with indignation and surprise. A small scoff escaped her lips, which were slightly curved up in nervousness.

"Oh so you're jealous? What are you, thirteen?" she crossed her arms, shaking her head in annoyance "I'm seeing a guy and suddenly you're possessive? Like I couldn't possibly date without your permission?"

But he grew frustrated, not at her, but at the situation. It was slipping out of his grip again.

With a groan, he shook his head.

"I didn't say that, Teresa, that's not what I'm saying at all." he let out a sigh, his body tensing up. "I'm not saying you need my permission or anything, it's just that it bothers me seeing you with him. It makes me feel... uncomfortable." he almost whispered that last word, as if embarrassed to admit. Uncomfortable was definitely not the right word here.

"Oh, I'm sorry you don't feel comfortable," she scoffed in sarcasm, looking around "Patrick Jane doesn't feel comfortable with me dating, so now I have to let the guy go, right? That's what you want?"

He opened his mouth to argue back, to tell her it wasnt like that at all- well, maybe a little, but she misunderstood the whole thing. Before he could fix it, she cut him.

"You know what, never mind. Forget about it." she slumped back into the seat, grabbing her phone with a little too much irritation, sighing and going quiet for the rest of the trip. Didn't even bother to look at him anymore.

And what's worse, he could tell she was texting Marcus by the way she curled her lip, by the way a light blush covered her neck. Jane secretly wished he could see her face when he texted her, just to check if she had the same reaction when his name lit up the screen.

Okay. There's that bitter feeling again. An ugly little sensation he felt growing inside of him like a squeeze around his heart, a vine -- or chains -- that made him dizzy and his skin tingle with anger. He was never the type to be jealous, he understood the human nature very well to know you couldn't help attraction, especially given she was incredibly attractive, but Lisbon always seemed to wake up the worst and the best in him.

Mind you, the anger and the frustration weren't directed at her. Or at Marcus, mostly.

They were directed at himself.

His mind was still reeling with all that happened between the moment he suggested they worked that damn art theft case days ago, to that very morning.

It was such a stupid plan too, he admits it now. The idea was to ease his way into her side, and this case had seemed like the perfect excuse to make a move. They'd play couple for a while, he'd be in charge of everything as usual, then he'd comment on how good of a couple they were, then the conversation would lead to him maybe asking her out or just addressing the fact that he'd like to be more than just friends. He wasn't too sure about how he'd do that, but he'd cross that bridge when he got to it.

Everything was going fine up until the point after the party.

· · ──── ·𖥸· ──── · ·

MacKaye was gone, the day was over, and Abbott assured they were being watched by the team outside, so they were safe. Everything had went well, better than expected, and now the plan was in full motion. The next day, they'd start planning out the "heist", getting Patrick and Teresa out of the house as to allow MacKaye's men to get inside.

Jane approached Lisbon in the kitchen as she finished placing some used dishes in the dishwasher, softly humming to herself. She looked up with a soft smile on her lips, and he returned it.

"Hey"

"Hey" he leaned against the door frame "You want any help?"

"Nope, no need, I'm already done" she said. The scene was awfully domestic, it made his heart race.

She was standing there in the dimmed lights, still in that grey dress he picked specially for her. Seeing her in a dress wasn't exactly unusual, but it was always a sight - he still thought of that black, strapless piece with a sweetheart neckline she used in the CBI fundraiser fondly, and often.

"Everything okay?" she asked as she dried her hands and leaned against the counter, and he realized he was staring quietly for a minute.

"Yeah, just..." he started. "Thinking. We make a great team."

Her face softened, and she lowered her head with a chuckle.

"We do, huh?" she replied playfully, biting her lip. "It was fun. Of all the times we pretended to be a couple, this is the most elaborate so far."

"Yeah, we didn't have that kind of budget at the CBI, did we?" he quipped, his own face softening. "I'm glad you had fun. We're a very convincing couple." Cast the lure.

"That's because I know you. I can tell when you're planning something so I just go with it. It's a lot easier to trust you blindly when I'm not your boss and don't have to file your paperwork." she nodded with a smile. She didn't bite it. But she did say she trusted him, that's worth something.

"Well, for starters, you were never my boss. We were equals. Just like now." he teased, hands on his pockets, giving him a boyish look "And second, it's good to know you trust me blindly, finally. Took you long enough. I won't forget that." Regroup, stay calm.

She smiled wider, nodding slowly and then looking straight at him, eyes wide and bright. Her face was expecting, as it had been the past few weeks. Hopeful, almost.

"You uh- You look very beautiful." he fidgeted with his wedding ring, looking straight at her. His voice was lower too, softer. Try with a different lure, maybe?

"Thank you, Jane," she blushed with a shy chuckle "but that's a way to compliment yourself. You were the one who bought the dress." she quipped with a flirty little smirk and he laughed.

"I guess that's true but trust me, it fit you perfectly. I could've given you a sack of potatoes to wear, you'd still look very beautiful, Teresa." he let out a shaky breath. She still wasn't biting it. Was he that out of practice with her?

"Thank you, Patrick" she smiled a little softer this time, cheeks very clearly flushed. Oh, he loved it when she said his name. She did that a lot that night, calling him Patrick, him calling her dear, darling, baby.

Okay, get to the point. He pushed off the door, taking a couple of steps in her direction.

"Listen, Lisbon, I was wondering-" he started, but was cut short by her phone ringing on the counter.

She lowered her head with a sigh, clearing her throat and muttering a 'sorry' before picking it up. A few nods of her head and hums of confirmation and she hung up.

"Sorry, that was Marcus. He said they'll be turning the cameras off soon, they're just checking if the house is secure..." she eyed him, trailing off "...so, what is it you wanted to say?"

Ugh. Marcus. Not even Agent Pike or anything, already on the first name basis.

The simple mention of Agent Hobby Lobby threw Jane off his game entirely. He had it rehearsed, had it planned out flawlessly, all possible outcomes for this moment traced inside his mind, but he somehow didn't account for... external disturbances.

Could he compete with a man who just got here and is already stealing all the attention? 

"Jane? You alright?" she asked softly, noticing his silence.

"Yeah," he replied, almost out of breath, straightening up and taking a step back "Um, just so you know, I'll sleep in the living room. Give you privacy upstairs and all."

He was losing it, the opportunity slipping through his fingers like sand.

She eyed him and raised her eyebrows, as if expecting something more, but nothing came.

He couldn't get to the things he actually wanted to say. He was going around the topic, trying to find a way to sink his teeth into it properly, but the words kept running from his grip.

Jane was used to being certain about most things, or at least pretending he was. That's how he sold his pitch, his con. Being overly confident was his whole persona, one he created and displayed every day to avoid the truth of how he felt. And if he ever admitted it out loud, it would mean giving that truth a body, a face, and there was no turning back from that.

Pretending to be unfazed kept him and the people he cared about safe.

"Anyway, we should both get some sleep. Big day tomorrow and all." he gave her a tight smile "If you need me, just..." he pointed over his shoulder, then sighed when she lowered her eyes.

He caught that slight disappointment, gone before she could let it settle on her face, but there was nothing to left to salvage from this exchange.

"See you in the morning. Good night, Lisbon."

"Good night, Jane." she said quietly, watching as he walked out.

He didn't get any sleep.

Another chance, lost to his cowardice.

· · ──── ·𖥸· ──── · ·

"What did you two gather from talking to them?" Abbott asked Jane, who was now sitting in the fishbowl while looking at a map they recovered from Ronaldo's apartment.

"Unsure. Inconclusive." he murmured, not bothering to look up "Edward seems like a good man who's maybe a little naive despite the fancy-shmancy psychiatrist talk. Mae seems to be hiding something, I'm not sure what. Both could've done it. Or not. I have an idea though."

"Huh," Dennis eyed him, noticing how Jane buried his nose in the case, as if wanting force his brain to focus on it. "What about Lisbon?"

"What about her?"

"Did you two talk?" Jane's eyes finally snapped up.

"Talk about what?" 

"The case, Jane. Did she offer any insights on the case?"

"Oh," his face smoothed out, and he lowered his eyes again "No. I mean, I didn't... I don't know."

"Ah," Abbott nodded with a little curl of his lips, hands in his trouser pockets "Well, you won't ever know if you don't ask, right? That's how you miss opportunities. You don't share your perspective on things, she won't share hers... maybe you two are on the same page, but you wouldn't ever know."

"Sure. Maybe." he knew exactly what he was doing.

One of the many problems that came with being a mentalist was, well, reading people. It was both a blessing and a curse. Slight eye twitches, small touches, voice cracks, pupil dilation, the way you breathe, the way you place your hands, everything could be analyzed. The problem with Jane being a mentalist is that everything could be over analyzed. That highly observant trait, treacherously mixed with his own insecurities and self judgment, led him to believe he was, to put it simply, unworthy of good things and that everyone around him shared the feeling.

Yes, he's charming, friendly and funny but he's also cunning, manipulative and deceitful. He lies for a living, his whole life, he lied. And that got many people hurt, intentionally or not.

In his perspective, despite them being best friends, Teresa was sick his shit. Of his cons, those lies, his provocative behavior, his penchant for putting himself and others in danger for the sake of being right all the time, his recklessness and impulsiveness, his transgressions. She was only responsible for him because she had to, because for some reason she was the only one who could quiet the noise that was Patrick Jane, even if slightly. And for what?

Jane made Lisbon lose her job quite a few times, suspensions included, put her in danger many times too. They'd spend many late nights in the CBI office, her at her desk and him on her couch, all because he'd been so reckless that day that the paperwork was tenfold. She mentioned many times, even if playfully, about her lack of sleep and back pain being gone while he wasn't around (saved for the Vegas breakdown, he swore to ignore that time of his life as much as possible).

The CBI was dismantled, she got fired for real, had to work in Washington for two years because of his actions after he ran away and abandoned her and the team in Sacramento with the feds about to devour them. Then suddenly he re-emerged, demanded for her to leave her job and be his partner again, and was now acting like a teen whose best friend got partnered up with someone else for a school project.

She didn't want to be around a man who could never stop running from his demons. Who would?

Or at least that's what he thought she felt. Right now, he wasn't so sure. Unfortunately, Abbott had a point. He couldn't be certain of anything if he didn't ask. He said it many times, he wasn't a psychic -- he couldn't read her mind, even if he tried to.

Thing is... he had a tendency to purposefully let out of his thoughts the fact that she was loyal to him. Even after everything. She was there with him, wasn't she? Whether he liked it or not, whether he agreed to it or not, she was loyal.

He used to attribute that to her "finally drinking the kool-aid", of him tainting the image his Saint Teresa had, but the truth is that she changed. She grew.

In the beginning, their sense of 'justice' was completely different.

To her, they were officers of the law. They caught bad guys, brought them in, and trusted the system to do its job. That was it.

Jane didn't trust the system at all. To him, justice had to be done with your own hands, had to be about the work of a vigilante since the system just didn't work. It was about vengeance, about getting even.

As they spent more time together, her concept of justice changed. She learned that the system had flaws, many, and that sometimes you had to just let things be. And he changed too, learning that the whole "getting even" thing wasn't always the way to go.

He saw the change himself after that case with the girl who shot her abusive father, years ago. She had taken the kid to juvie, was getting ready to turn her in, but decided against it. It was beautiful to see.

Despite his doubt when she indirectly told him she was okay with him killing Red John, right before the final stretch of the chase, when he thought back to it... he knew she was saying the truth.

He left her at that beach not out of fear she'd try to stop him, but because he was afraid. Afraid something would happen to her, that she'd be caught in the crossfire, but also afraid of what she'd see when he was most vulnerable. Not that she hadn't seen it before, but seeing him with a shotgun while swearing to kill the one who destroyed his life would've been a new low, even at that point.

She changed what she valued most in the world because he came into her life. She threw aside her morals to stand by his side because he meant more to her than anything else.

If she believe in him with this intensity, maybe, just maybe, she saw something he couldn't see in himself. Something he thought he lost ages ago.

"How long are you gonna let that go?"

"Let what go, Abbott?" Jane replied, frustrated.

"This whole 'pretending it doesn't bother you' thing." Patrick just stared at him, so he kept going. "You're acting weird. You're acting cool about stuff that I know you can't be cool with. Everything was going fine, then Teresa shows up with her new guy, and you start acting off. I know it's not a coincidence."

"I have no clue what you're talking about." Patrick simply said, looking back at the map.

"Sure, sure..." Abbott murmured, eyeing the blonde for a moment before deciding to drop the subject.

"Boss. We checked. Ronaldo started taking diving lessons about a month ago." Cho announced as he walked into the meeting room, a folder in his hands.

Oh well. Back to work.

· · ──── ·𖥸· ──── · ·

The stunt was working as it should, beautifully so. The news report showed Luis Cruz would be executed the next day, but Mae and Edward had no clue what time it was. They were completely isolated, even from each other, running on nothing but caffeine and desperation... it was perfect, like guiding two little flies straight into a spider's web.

Now it was roughly two forty in the morning, after many hours of purposefully exhausting interviews with each team member to see if they could get anything out of Mr Feinberg, each with their own approach. Or no approach at all. Truthfully, Jane guessed it would amount to nothing, but the true mark was Mae.

They just needed to weaken the relationship and trust, wear them out to the bone, catch her in a compromising position to make him doubt her, and convince him to wear a wire to get the confession. The in-between wasn't really important -- if they got something out of him, it was just a bonus.

At this point though, Jane was on autopilot. After a takeout box, three sandwiches, seven tea cups and, surprisingly, one of coffee, Patrick found himself pacing the bullpen like a cornered rabbit. He needed to stretch his legs, both to get the blood flowing, but also to sort out his thoughts. Being stuck in the fishbowl next to her, being unable to talk it out while this thick cloud of tension choked them both was torture of the worst kind.

He hated being in bad sheets with Teresa. He's made her mad countless times, got her annoyed, frustrated, but it was never over something so... trivial like this. So childish. Even back when he buried that guy alive -- technically, not really -- or when he made her worried and upset after vanishing for six months, it didn't make his chest feel so uncomfortably tight like now.

That discussion in the car earlier got out of hand way too fast, faster than he could keep up with. That seemed to happen a lot lately.

"You alright?" yet again, her voice blessed his ears.

He looked up, noticing her standing next to her desk. He didn't realize he was looking out the window by his couch.

"Uh, yeah," he scratched his beard, his voice soft just like hers as he turned around "just very tired. My insomnia decided it was a great time to leave my body right when I need it."

She chuckled softly, leaning her hip against the desk "I can count on my fingers how many times I've seen you chug down a cup of coffee in my time, you must be exhausted."

He nodded and smiled softly, mimicking her and leaning back against the window. All lights in the bullpen were off except for the fishbowl, which meant the moonlight was casting a silvery glow over her. Oh, she looked so beautiful, and so not his.

"Lisbon, I-" "Jane, look-" they spoke at the same time.

They both sighed, and she hugged herself, something she did when preparing for an overly emotional moment.

"Sorry, uh..." he gestured at the couch as he sat down, letting out a sigh "You first, please."

Lisbon hesitated slightly, a fraction of a second, but stood up and walked over to the couch, taking her space by his side, one leg over the other. They stared at the rest of the team inside the meeting room for a minute or two before she spoke up, her voice soft and gentle.

"I owe you an apology for earlier today. I overreacted. I know you care, it just... threw me off. Sometimes you send me mixed signals and it confuses me. You were bothered by something, barely talking to me, then you started asking me questions..." she said, looking down at her lap. "I'm sorry."

"Ah" he nodded slowly, his voice matching hers as his fingers twitched against his lap "Did Marcus help you decide that?"

"As a matter of fact."

"Well, Marcus is wrong. I shouldn't have prodded like that, it's your personal life, I don't uh...." he trailed off, shaking his head, unsure of what to say "...you were right to be cross with me. I didn't mean to upset you, and for that I apologize. You're important to me."

Then he finally looked up at her. Her eyes were... God, he couldn't look away. They were wide and bright, their shade of sage so pure, so lovely and sweet, he could easily get lost in those pools and never want to come up for air.

Jane could be a huge jackass at times, stubborn and stupid. But after years by his side, Lisbon understood that if he said she was important, which was an understatement on its own, he meant it. Little did she know how deep that actually went.

"It was good, by the way," she shrugged, biting her lip in thought for a moment "The date. He seems like a good guy. We talked, we've got things in common, he's fun."

Things in common with Marcus Joann-Fabrics-and-Crafts Pike. Yeah, okay.

"That's good to know." he nodded as he looked back at his hands, fidgeting with his ring, a little forced smile on his lips. It was almost painful.

"You deserve a good man, Teresa. If he's it..." he shrugged, his voice cracking. "Your happiness is the most important thing to me."

A silence settled in between them. He could sense her eyes boring into the side of his face, but he couldn't bring himself to look. He knew it could all be ruined if she read into his expression right now.

She cleared her throat "Um. Remember when we were at the CBI one time, and you told me you used to eat pancakes with a fried banana with sugar and cinnamon on top?" she asked, and he nodded, a genuine little smile growing at the fondness of the memory. "...and I told you it was gross because fried bananas are slimy, but then you said you were sure I'd like it, so I should try it sometime? I did try it."

A wide smile graced his lips "Figured as much. I knew you'd love it." he murmured as he looked down.

"You always know what I'm gonna do or say, huh?" she replied playfully, and he smiled.

"Mostly."

"One of these days, I might surprise you."

"Please don't, I love that you're predictable."

"Just what a girl wants to hear." Lisbon quipped, almost mockingly.

"What does a girl want to hear?" he finally looked up at her, eyes boring into hers with an intensity that made her skin prickle.

"I wish I knew." she answered quietly.

Oh?

"Okay, you two," Abbott's voice ringed through the bullpen, making them turn their heads "Time to go. It's late, they're exhausted, we're exhausted... hopefully tomorrow we'll have better results."

Looking back at Teresa, Patrick noticed they were leaning very close to one another. Very close. 'Lack of personal space' close, and when she noticed it, she pulled away, standing up and smoothing down her shirt.

"Okay, uh..." she blushed as she turned to him, avoiding eye contact entirely "I'll get going, then. I could use a shower and a couple hours of sleep." she tried at a very forced chuckle.

"Yeah, we're all running on fumes at this point," he said quietly, a curl gracing the corner of his lips as he looked up at her. Then, with a sigh, he threw his legs over the couch and got comfortable "Good night, Lisbon."

He closed his eyes, and the last thing he saw was her standing over him. He heard her let out a shaky breath, then heard "Good night, Jane." before she made her way out.

Even being so unbelievably tired, he couldn't really sleep, those wide eyes kept haunting him.

· · ──── ·𖥸· ──── · ·

The case was finally closed. Luiz Cruz was still alive, Mae was locked up, and Mr Feinberg could finally have some closure for the death of his wife.

Jane heard rushed little footsteps coming towards his side of the bullpen, he knew it was her, and couldn't help but open his eyes as he laid on the couch.

When he did, his heart did a little somersault inside his chest. She was leaning over her desk, hastily reaching for her keys.

God, she looked so beautiful. Actually, beautiful wasn't anywhere near enough to describe her.

Teresa was absolutely stunning, that much was obvious on the daily.

Gorgeous green and gold eyes, freckled, ivory skin, plump lips that looked sculpted by Cupid himself, a sea of ebony hair he could very easily get lost in... Jane had a thing for when she wore those tighter shirts with a v-neck, or when she wore skinny jeans, a rarer sight these days since the FBI required dress pants on a daily. But he appreciated those too. When it was cold, seeing her with overcoats and turtlenecks was like a little treat for enduring a harsher weather, but again, not very common in a Texan environment.

He of course adored her smile, especially when it was directed at him. That adorable wrinkle of her nose when she acted shy could be his demise one day, and he'd die a happy man if that was the last thing he saw.

But the older they got, the more beautiful she looked. Expression lines, tiny wrinkles on the sides of her eyes, the eventual haircut change, a slight added weight that came naturally -- everything that changed in her, inside and out, made him fall harder. Oh and how he wished to grow older with her.

Part of him, a part he was now realizing was larger than he expected, wished he could go back to that tiny island in Venezuela but instead with this new version of her, show her that side of his life. It was likely pure wishful thinking, but he wondered if one day he'd be able to see her in a sundress, heels on her hand as they walked through the sand, eyes sparkling in the sunlight as she laughed at something stupid he said about whales or seagulls. Maybe with a kid or two, if she wanted.

The Teresa Lisbon corner of his mind palace was getting crowded.

A little black dress was usually a sight to see, that much he knew. Simple, sleek, elegant but flirty. Could be the start of a sweet, romantic dinner date under candlelight, or an invitation to a night in someone else's bed. Endless possibilities.

Now, seeing her in one? Oh, that was like watching the gods descent from Mount Olympus in a cloud of sunshine and gold while a choir of muses sang from above, blessing his eyes with the sight of her gorgeous legs and smoky makeup.

"Look at you." he murmured softly.

"Don't start." she almost pleaded, turning around after reaching for her keys.

"I'm not starting, you look beautiful," he sighed "I hope he's taking you someplace nice."

"Cloth napkins and everything." she quipped with a playful raise of her brows.

"Fancy," he breathed out as he looked into her eyes "Well, you have a great time."

The disappointment on her face was expected, but it still felt like a stab to his stomach. He was such a coward.

"Good night, Jane." Lisbon turned around, starting to walk away, shoulders a little hunched.

"Good night, Teresa." he murmured, but she was already too far to hear him. He watched, heart sinking as she made her way to the elevator.

Coward. He kept repeating that to himself, over and over.

She's waiting for you to say something, but you keep on being a coward.

Beating a dead horse was his specialty these days.

But when she entered the elevator, head low, then quickly made eye contact with him, he was gone. That was it. He couldn't bear to see that sad look directed at him again, ever. Every time she looked at him like that, it was like a piece of his soul got ripped from his own being.

So, he got up.

"Ugh- wait, Teresa-" he nearly shouted as the doors started to close, jogging towards it.

 Luckily, she was quick to stop them from closing and stepped out.

"Jane?" her brows furrowed, watching as he approached her. That little line in between her eyebrows showed up, and he wished he could just kiss it away.

"Can we- can we talk?" he breathed heavily, hand hovering her arm.

"I- Does it have to be now? I have to go-" but he couldn't wait anymore.

"I-I know, I just..." he shook his head "It's important."

She looked at him with a frown of concern, but followed him into the less crowded side of the bullpen, near the interview rooms. With her arms crossed over her chest, she looked up at him expectantly, her heart beating like a drum inside her chest, ready to burst out at any moment.

"Jane, what's going on with you?" her voice was small, tentative.

Licking his lips which suddenly seemed very dry, Jane swallowed the billiard ball lodged in his throat and let his thoughts and feelings spill free after being bottled up for so long.

"Look, its probably a little too late to say this, but it has to be said. I need to get to this, and you deserve to hear it, especially after my behavior this week." he breathed heavily, looking right into her eyes "These past few years made me realize a lot about myself, but mostly about us. Even before I left, I was already aware of how you made me feel. And I told you so, back when I left you at that beach. I told you how important you were to me, but I didn't make it clear that I meant it as more than... more than a friend, Teresa. You're more than just a friend to me."

Hey eyes widened slightly, jaw briefly slack with surprise as a small sound left her throat, but he kept going.

"I-I'm a coward. A huge coward." Jane paused, fidgeting with his ring as he looked down "I had this... plan to win you over. That whole art theft case, that was supposed to be a way to get closer to you- we'd act as a couple, then you'd see how great we were together, then I'd ask you out. I wanted to re-learn you, to get to know the person you became while I was gone and rebuild your trust. I wanted to take you out on dates and dinners, and romance you the way you deserve to be romanced." he shook his head in distress and finally lifted his eyes, looking straight into hers, noticing they grew wet "It was such a stupid idea, and I realize that now, and I apologize for trying to play you like that. I truly am sorry."

There was a moment of quiet, both holding their breaths as the cogs inside Jane's mind turned over and over.

"I have forgotten how to act like a normal human being, and I play games, and I lie. And I trick people to avoid the truth of how I feel. A truth that you've always deserved to know, but a truth I avoid as much as possible because if I say it out loud, then it'll become real, tangible, and anything that is tangible can be broken and jinxed and I'm terrified of that happening, because...." he stopped himself and took a deep breath, chewing on his lip as he tried to calm down his racing heart.

"Because the truth is that I love you." He sighed, his own eyes watering up, mirroring hers as his voice broke "And it feels great to say that out loud, but it terrifies me. Admitting this terrifies me. But it is the truth. And I need to tell you this because you can't read my mind, you won't know if I don't tell you."

He let out an exasperated, breathless chuckle, like he couldn't believe on the words that finally poured out. He shook his head as he stammered out, brows raising. He lowered his gaze once again in defeat, looking at his hands. When he looked back up, there were tears running down his face, but he didn't bother to hide them.

"I panicked. Marcus showed up, and suddenly I had no time, but I was trying to play it cool. A-And then you showed up in that cab and avoiding my questions, and I-I started to spiral again. Even though you said it was just your car that wasn't working, this... this ugly thing inside me kept insisting that you spent the night with him so that's why you had to take the taxi. And then we headed to talk to Mr Feinberg and you were with him on the phone, talking about your next date and it just got worse. I see you smiling at him, laughing at his jokes, flirting with him and I get jealous. I want that to be me. I-I know it's selfish for me to say it now, I understand, and I apologize- but I can't help it."

A tight, pained smile graced his lips as he watched her "I want you to do what makes you happy. That's the most important thing to me, that you do what makes you happy. If being with him does it for you, I'll understand, I won't blame you at all. I don't expect anything from you, you've always done so much for me and I can't ever be thankful enough..." he lifted his arms in almost surrender, then took a deep breath "B-but, if by any chance... if there's any chance at all that I can make you happier, then I'll do everything within my power to ensure you you've made the right choice, for the rest of our lives. That's my promise to you, Teresa."

Silence stretched between the two, like all the air got sucked out of the room. Time stood still, like the whole universe waited with bated breath for their next move.

"J-Jane, I... I-I..." she couldn't get her words out. Lisbon felt so overwhelmed, it was almost like every single thought she ever had of the two wanted to leave her mouth all at once, but all got stuck in her throat. She felt her eyes fill with even more tears, bittersweet ones.

"Teresa?" Marcus' voice echoed through the bullpen behind her, bursting their little bubble entirely.

Patrick's shoulders squared up, his face smoothing out as he retreated behind his mental walls, taking a step back and putting some distance between the two. He gestured with his chin for her to go, before breaking the eye contact he held for so long and wiping his face hastily.

"Hey, there you are. So, are we good to go?" he asked as he approached the two, noticing Jane's slightly distressed state and Lisbon who just couldn't take her eyes off him. "Uh... everything alright here? Did anything happen?"

A pause was the first response he got, both feeling extremely out of place now, but Jane's quick thinking saved them.

"No, no, sorry, Marcus... I held her here a little longer, I didn't mean to." he forced out a smile "I apologize, she's all yours now. You two go and have a nice dinner." he murmured, looking back at her for a moment, letting out a quiet breath as he took another step back.

"Ah, thanks," Pike said, oblivious to the tension between the two. He turned to Teresa, who now managed to blink her tears away and play along "Let's go, our reservation's in thirty minutes."

Still, despite the moment being completely destroyed, the confession was still there, permeating the air like the fresh scent of recently-cut citrus. It was there. It was done. 12 or so years of pining, longing, yearning, shoving his feelings for her inside a safe in his mind, and being clumsily desperate to put them all back in whenever they managed to escape when she'd look at him a certain way, of his fingers tingling to touch her but being unable to, of shared looks across the room, of nights spent thinking of her... all out. 

She went with Pike when he tugged her arm slightly.

She got inside the elevator, pressed the button, watched it as the doors closed.

She made her way down and through the parking lot.

Then she got inside his car.

· · ──── ·𖥸· ──── · ·

Patrick couldn't focus on that damn book at all, but he pretended he could. He was very good at pretending things lately.

Right now, all he could do was think and rethink and overthink all he had told Teresa that evening and how she reacted to it.

Remember what I said earlier? About the issues that came with being a mentalist, and how Jane made it all worse with his self judgment? Yeah, about that...

He noticed everything Lisbon had given him during that very emotional moment an hour ago. Every little detail, from her breathing to how she positioned her feet. She maintained eye contact the whole time, even after he broke it. She started the conversation with tense shoulders and arms crossed in front of her body, and ended it with hands by her side. She didn't try to hide her face or tears as she usually did, despite not letting them flow down her face and ruin her makeup. Her eyebrows were furrowed, but they didn't seem to be out of frustration or confusion anymore, but rather out of some kind of understanding. Like she was just taking it in. She didn't lean away, she didn't try to interrupt him, she just listened. She didn't run, didn't try to avoid all that vulnerability he was showing her. And even when Marcus showed up, she didn't even look away, she was still looking at him with those wide eyes.

But even so... she went with him.

If Jane was observing anyone else at all, he would've suggested that all of those little details on her behavior meant she likely felt the same and that she did not want to go with Pike, and instead stay in their little bubble and talk this through.

But it was Lisbon. His Lisbon.

He did mention she was predictable the night before, but truth is, even after all these years she was still a mystery to him. Predictably unpredictable.

What if she was just being polite or something? By now, she knew what he'd look for in her face to get a read, she was able to control her expressions a lot better, he noticed. And certainly she'd use that on him, right?

She wasn't a huge fan of being a target of Jane's cold reading practices anymore, he could tell. Maybe she was fed up with it. He didn't judge, he would feel the same way if someone probed into his brain over and over and unearthed some of his secrets, small and insignificant as they were, and poked fun a them or tried to force him to talk about them at odd hours.

Reading her nowadays felt less playful, like they used to be back then, and more like as if he was taking a peek inside her, past the storm and the walls and into the beautiful valley that was her soul. And that scared them both.

He was so zoned out that when he noticed her standing in front of him, he nearly jumped.

"Teresa" he breathed, fumbling with the book.

Her eyes were a little wet, a tiny bit bloodshot, and she kept looking between him and... everything around him, as if eye contact physically hurt her after she did it for so long earlier. She held her purse in one hand, while the other kept frantically fixing the skirt of her dress, looking for anything to do other than stay still.

She was incredibly nervous.

"Did you mean what you said?" she rasped out, her voice coming a little choked as her eyes finally stopped on his.

"A-About you having a nice dinner?" she rolled her eyes.

"Jane. This is no joking matter." and he smiled lightly.

"Yes," he sighed "Every word of it." Then, a pause. "I love you."

That made her let out a long sigh, eyes blinking frantically as she tried not to let her tears shed.

"Good," she nodded nervously, biting her lip. She cleared her throat as she looked down while scuffing her heels on the ground, then looked back at him "Because I feel the same way."

"Oh," he replied, and a huge grin broke through his face "Well, that's lucky."

She snorted softly and let out an awkward chuckle, then lowered her head to hide her face, schooling herself before looking back at him.

"Um... are you... still interested in romancing me?" she asked shyly, a tentative little lopsided smile showing up on her face. She pointed her head over her shoulder, gesturing towards the elevator.

The way his face smoothed out was almost comical. His jaw dropped slightly, brows raising as he struggled to process what she just proposed. To say he was speechless was an understatement.

"If I knew that's what would've gotten you quiet, I would've said it sooner..." she played with a small voice, and he finally blinked.

"Uh, oh, uh, yeah, um-" he stammered, fumbling with his book to get up, hearing her giggle softly at his awkwardness. She rarely giggled at him, but he'd definitely make it a mission to hear it more often "I-I'm sorry, I'm all over the place- um. What about Pike?" he let out a shaky breath, sobering up slightly.

Lisbon looked down for a split second, shaking her head "He'll understand."

He nodded in understanding, then smoothed out his vest and jacket, nervously so, a genuine, boyish smile growing on his face "Well. Okay, um... Are you still up for a cloth napkin restaurant? There's a great French one not too far from here, I think you'll love it."

There he was, back at his confident and cocky self. But this time, there was a softness to it, like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. He offered his arm for her to take it, and the two made their way to the elevator.

"Yeah, just give me the address-"

"What, you think I'm gonna let you drive? On our first date?"

"Uh, yeah. A date won't expunge the fact that you're a reckless driver, I don't want to die-"

"Your fear is completely senseless, Teresa, I'm an excellent driver-"

"Tell that to the many traffic tickets you've got-"

"Eh. All fairly disputed but paid, thank you very much-"

"Still, I'm driving-"

"Yeah? And with what keys?"

"What-" she checked her hand purse, as they stopped by the elevator doors "how did you do that?"

He grinned widely, rocking back on his heels "One of these days you're gonna stop asking me that."

As they entered the lift, her hand curled around his bicep, there was a small silence, filled with giddy expectation and nervousness. After a beat passed, they started their descent to the parking lot and Jane finally looked at her, with the most earnest look on his face, and murmured.

"Have I told you you look absolutely beautiful?"