A/N: I know this may never happen, but I would love for Jane and Pike to have a conversation of some kind, alone, about Lisbon. This is how I imagine it might happen. I hope it doesn't seem out of character, but then, we've never seen any of these characters in this particular situation before, so I hope you'll give me some latitude. The title, by the way, is from an old Beatles song by the same name.

Things We Said Today

It was a Friday evening after work, and only the weekend skeleton crew remained at the FBI's Austin offices. The rest had scattered like rats from a sinking ship—all but Jane, who sat with a cup of tea on his couch in the dimly lit bullpen, contemplating life without Lisbon. He'd kept his mouth shut, kept his distance, allowed her to have a bit of happiness after all the hell he'd put her through over the years, but he couldn't help feeling like he, himself had fallen into the pit once more—and Red John was long dead.

Even now, he knew she was getting ready for a night on the town with Pike, probably excited to wear the new dress she'd bought when she'd taken a long lunch hour yesterday. He was pretty sure she would have bought shoes too—sexy little sandals with a sensible heel. She'd look beautiful. The pain of it threatened to tear him apart inside, but if there was something Jane knew how to cope with, it was pain and emotional sacrifice. He wasn't sure he'd survive it this time, but he would try, because he wasn't being egotistical when he thought that his giving up would devastate Lisbon. He was trying to avoid that these days. He owed her that much.

When Marcus Pike emerged from the shadowed hall, Jane looked up from his tea. The man certainly looked determined. Jane almost smiled. He'd been expecting this.

"Evening, Marcus," Jane said pleasantly, though he didn't bother to rise.

"Jane."

Jane's politeness must have thrown him, for the man hesitated. Jane waited patiently for him to state his business, but he felt his insides tense at what was about to go down. Pike found his courage, and Jane knew precisely the moment he would open his mouth.

"If you're looking for Lisbon—" Jane offered, purposefully interrupting Pike's revived resolve. The man could say his piece, but Jane wasn't about to make it easy for him.

"No," Pike said impatiently. "I mean, she said she'd meet me back here. The office is halfway between our apartments."

"Oh," said Jane, thinking that if he were the one taking Lisbon out, he'd go the extra mile—literally-to pick her up in style. But he wasn't allowed to think that way.

"No, I'm actually here to talk to you."

Jane made a show of setting down his tea and saucer on the floor near his feet, moving to the edge of the couch in feigned anticipation. Pike stood his ground about two yards away.

"I'm all ears." Jane was politeness personified. Lisbon would be proud.

"Good. Let me get straight to the point then—I want you to lay off."

Jane raised an eyebrow. "Can you be more specific? I lay on a lot of things."

"Come on, Jane. You know what I mean. Quit interfering in Teresa's personal life."

At this, Jane smiled, though his eyes became twin glaciers. "I've done nothing of the kind."

"Ha," Pike scoffed. "Quit calling Lisbon at all hours of the night. Quit interrupting our dates. Quit—"

"In case you hadn't noticed, Marcus, Lisbon and I work together."

"But she's not the only one you can call, Jane. Cho, or Fischer, or even Abbott—"

"Lisbon is the only one I know who will always take me seriously when I call. That's why I call her. And I have never abused that privilege." Now that was a lie, but maybe if he said it with enough conviction, Pike would believe him. Jane sighed internally. It was not to be.

"I think you're full of shit," said Pike. "What's more, I think you are jealous of our relationship, and want to put a wrench in it any way you can, and all you're doing is confusing the hell out of her."

"Aw," said Jane, relaxing against the back of the couch.

"Aw, what?"

"You're not really upset with me, Marcus; you're afraid your relationship, as you call it, isn't quite as stable as you want it to be. In fact, if Lisbon were completely devoted to you, she would have told me herself to lay off"—which she had already—"She wouldn't be showing any signs of confusion where you're concerned. The Lisbon I know would be completely loyal to the man she truly loved."

Marcus took an angry step toward the couch. He was still being civil, but Jane could tell by the pulse in his throat and the pounding vein in his slightly Neanderthal forehead that he was barely keeping himself in check.

"Don't try to mentalize me, Jane," he said, reverting to a tight smile. He snapped his fingers in epiphany. "I get what you're trying to do—you're trying to turn this around on me. Teresa comes when you call out of habit, but mostly it's because she pities you."

Jane chuckled, but that accusation had hit home. He knew Lisbon cared about him, but part of him knew she stayed by him because she felt sorry that he was alone. She feared what he might do if left to his own devices.

"Lisbon knows I've purposefully chosen to live my life a certain way. And she still likes me anyway. Her loyalty is unconditional. Wouldn't you like to know what that feels like?"

"Oh, I will, Jane, don't worry about that. When she decides to go to DC with me, you'll have to find a new host to leach off of. Until then, you'd do her a great service if you'd stay out of the way and let her decide what's best for her without any outside interference."

Jane felt a white-hot stab of panic. This is what had been bothering Lisbon the past few days. She'd been unusually quiet around him, and he'd caught her staring indecisively at him from her desk lately, before looking guiltily away when he decided to catch her at it. For once, he couldn't read her because she must feel it was something so serious, so monumental, that she'd put up her strongest force field around it in hopes it would remain Jane-proof. So far, that force field had held. He could still wonder about it though

Jane's first thought was that perhaps Marcus had asked her to move in with him. Jane felt it was way too soon for a marriage proposal, perhaps even too soon for a declaration of love. But moving halfway across the country with him? He hadn't seen that one coming at all.

Jane must have let a part of his careful facade slip, for Pike's heavy brows knit in consternation. Lisbon, Pike realized, wouldn't be happy about this.

"She hadn't told you," he said.

Well, duh, thought Jane uncharitably. He shrugged with fake nonchalance.

"It must not have been important enough," he said, though even to Jane's ears that explanation sounded lame. Why the hell hadn't she told him?

Because she was considering it, that's why.

"Dammit," muttered Pike, his hand running through his nondescript hair in annoyance.

"I'll act surprised," said Jane. He looked down and flicked away an invisible piece of lint from his trousers.

At that moment, he longed to find Lisbon, to demand to know what she was thinking. To beg her not to leave him. To tell her he loved her, that he'd been stupid to let this thing go on so long with Pike without telling her how he felt.

"Look, I just assumed she'd told you."

"A natural assumption. We're partners, you know, and this decision affects me too."

"Do me a favor, Jane, and forget I was even here." He turned to leave.

"I'm not keeping your secrets, Marcus," Jane said softly.

At last, Jane decided to get off of his couch.

Pike stopped and turned back to face him. "I came here as a gentleman, Jane, hoping to appeal to your integrity as a gentleman to keep this conversation between us."

Jane shook his head sadly.

"You know what this tells me—what it tells both of us? She doesn't know what to do. Lisbon is confused all right, but it's not because of anything I've done. It's more than likely because I've done nothing. I have been the gentleman all along. I haven't stood in her way. Hell, I've even wished the two of you well on more than one occasion. And you know why? Because between the two of us gentlemen, I care more for what is best for her. I care more that she is happy. I admit her happiness used to be secondary to my quest for vengeance, but that's changed. Right after I came back from South America, she set me straight. She told me I needed to start considering her feelings, and she was right. And so I've made a concerted effort to let her live her own life. That is more than I can say about you, Agent Pike, isn't it? You're going behind her back to try to manipulate things to your advantage. She'd blow a gasket if she knew you were here, making decisions for her. Trust me, I've been there," he finished sheepishly.

Pike stood there, surprised at Jane's long speech. He spoke the truth. He spoke from experience, and he had arguments he knew would appeal to Teresa, if he but opened his mouth and shared them with her. He felt a fleeting moment of fear that he could lose her, but unlike Jane, Pike was willing to fight for her.

"You have no idea what's between me and Teresa," he said angrily. "What we have together-it's special. It's real. I'm not some tragic hero who behaves like a spoiled child, getting away with everything and throwing away the rules when it suits me. You don't live in the real world, Jane. You live in an Airstream. You look like a bum in your island shirts and your ten-year-old suits. It seems to me, I'm the more logical choice. The stable choice. I'd never betray her or abandon her or stand by and watch another man take her away. What the hell can you offer her, Jane? Not that you've ever had the balls to make any offers, that is."

In the middle of his diatribe, Lisbon appeared in the doorway of the bullpen. Jane saw her over Pike's shoulder, her green eyes going round with shock. Jane gave no indication that he'd seen her; he'd let Pike have his say.

"You're right, Marcus. I can offer her nothing," he said, and he met Lisbon's eyes, speaking the words to her instead. "But I know things that you don't, things that take years to find out. I know that she likes carb-loading at breakfast. I know she gets testy without her second cup of coffee. I know that when she's upset, she holds all her tension in her neck and between her eyes. I know she's a control freak and hates it when I drive, or when I hold onto the remote. I know if I don't make her eat while we're on a case, that she'll forget. And I know—"he paused, then swallowed hard over the sudden lump in his throat. "-that if I were truly worthy of her, I wouldn't let anyone or anything stand in my way. It wouldn't matter where we lived or where we worked—her happiness would be all that mattered."

"Jane," Lisbon whispered, her eyes glittering with unshed tears.

Pike whirled around. "Teresa! What-?"

Teresa raised a hand to forestall his impending apologies. "Please wait for me in the car, Marcus," she said hoarsely.

Pike looked back at Jane, his eyes shooting daggers. He walked to Lisbon, already thinking of how he could repair the damage.

"Listen, Teresa," he said, moving to touch her arm. Jane visibly cringed. The last thing you did when Lisbon was pissed off was touch her—another thing he knew. That could get a guy a sock in the nose. Predictably, she shrugged Pike off almost violently.

"Please!" she barked in her federal agent tone.

Jane saw the defeat in Pike's shoulders as he did her bidding, silently leaving them for the elevator. For a brief moment, Jane actually felt sorry for the man.

Once they were alone, Lisbon walked until she was standing in front of Jane, more beautiful than he'd imagined in her new red halter dress with its full skirt, tightly belted at the waist. She wore strappy silver sandals with low kitten heels. Her lips were painted a deep crimson, and her hair hung in natural waves about her bare shoulders. Her lively eyes shimmered now with angry tears.

"What the hell was this?" she demanded, wiping at them with frustrated fingers. He fished a clean white handkerchief from his pocket and offered it to her. She grabbed it without thanks, and he noticed she left mascara stains that would never wash out.

He found in that moment that all he wanted to do was kiss her lovely mouth.

"I don't know," he said instead. "I was sitting here drinking my tea, minding my own business, when Agent Pike…accosted me."

She paused in her sniffling and looked shrewdly up at him. "You're exaggerating."

"Maybe," he admitted with a small smile. And then he remembered what had really set him off, and it was his turn to look at her accusingly, though his voice was deadly soft. "Why didn't you tell me Pike asked you to move to DC with him?"

She averted her eyes, and her cheeks flushed pink. "I don't tell you everything either, Jane. It doesn't feel very good, does it?"

"That's beside the point."

She sighed. "Marcus had no right to tell you. I was going to tell you myself."

"When?"

"When I'd decided, okay?" she bit out in annoyance. "This is my decision, not yours. Not Marcus's. Mine. I had to work things out for myself."

"Make a list of the pros and cons," he suggested wryly.

"Well, yes, not that it's any of your business."

"I could have helped you with that list," he said, taking another step toward her.

"Not when you were on the list," she whispered.

"And was I a pro or a con?" he asked, his warm hands resting on her shoulders. She was cool to the touch. Nervous? Chilly? Where was her sweater?

"Both," she said, and they mirrored grins of complete understanding. His hands began sliding up and down her upper arms, as if he were trying to warm her. He felt his touch was really only adding to her goose bumps, but he didn't want to stop feeling the silky skin beneath his hands.

"What you said, Jane—why haven't you said it before?"

"I was trying not to interfere—much. And I meant what I said, Teresa. I'm not worthy of a woman like you. Don't be too hard on Pike—everything he said was true."

"Not everything," she countered, reaching up to touch his cheek.

"I do have balls?" he ventured wryly.

He closed his eyes and leaned into her palm like a cat. "It's not that," she said, with a smile in her voice. "I happen to like your island shirts," she whispered.

He grinned without opening his eyes.

And then they flew open at the first touch of her red lips on his. His hands tightened convulsively on her arms as she continued to kiss him, coaxing a response, seducing him with her clean scent and cool fingers that slid into his hair. He shivered as her scarlet-tipped nails grazed his scalp, and then he closed his eyes and a helpless moan escaped from his throat.

And just like that, he was kissing her back, and it was like they had been doing it for years.

There could be no doubt now that he wanted her, that the desperation in his kiss could only mean that she couldn't leave him now. Not for Pike. Not for anyone else. His heart was hers, to do with what she pleased.

When they finally parted, both of them breathless, she looked up into his blue-green eyes, her hands now draped about his neck.

"You need to say it," she prompted huskily.

"Teresa, I—" he started to pull away, but she held firm.

"And you can never take it back, or leave me again, or so help me God, Jane, I will hop the first flight to the farthest place I can find and never look back."

He grinned. "So it's to be an ultimatum, then."

She nodded once succinctly. "Damn straight."

His eyes grew serious, and before he even said the words, she could read them there, as plainly as that long ago day on the bluffs at sunset. She knew a moment of intense fear for his sincerity, but he dropped a reassuring kiss on her lips, her lipstick nearly gone and probably half on his own mouth.

He took a deep, steadying breath.

"I love you, Teresa," he told her, grateful his voice didn't break. "Please don't go."

She left him hanging a minute, his heart banging against his ribs. He supposed he deserved that.

"That's all you had to say," she said, and she pulled his mouth back down to hers.

A/N: *Sigh* So that's my hope for things to come. If I'm even a quarter right, I will jump for joy! Thanks for reading!