Disclaimer: Not mine, not ever. Sigh.

Author's Note: I miss episode tags. And somehow I never wrote one for Il Tavolo Bianco. This has been in my head for a while, but I got inspired to actually write it by Mayzee's "Shakespeare & Scrutiny," which you should go read if you haven't already.

"What does a girl want to hear?"

Lisbon wanted to roll her eyes at Jane's question, squelching the hope that his tone held interest in an actual answer. She'd been down that road too many times before. Besides, she'd given him every opportunity to declare himself if he wanted to. She was damned if she was going to make the first move. "The all-knowing Patrick Jane doesn't know?" she teased.

Jane pursed his lips, a flash of annoyance crossing his face. "Would I have asked if I did?"

"I don't know, Jane. I never know whether to believe anything that comes out of your mouth."

"Well, I don't know," he said stiffly.

"But you can guess, right? Because you can see right through me. You know all my secrets, right?" Sometimes she wished she'd let him guess, back when he'd been refusing to tell her his Red John suspect list. If he'd had the guts to say out loud that she had been in love with him, it might have been painful, but at least they wouldn't be stuck in this endless circle of avoidance. Or denial. Or whatever level of hell this was.

Jane looked down at the tablecloth, fingers moving restlessly. "Not anymore. Maybe not ever."

Were they telling the truth now? He'd been so guarded with her, mask firmly in place, ever since he came back. No—since she'd told him to butt out of her life. Leave it to Jane to overreact.

Time was growing short. Marcus needed an answer, but she couldn't give him one until she decided whether she could let go of Jane. Trying to figure that out was making her crazy.

She'd give him one last chance. "Take a guess, Jane."

"Why?" His expression was unreadable. "Doesn't Marcus whisper enough sweet nothings in your ear?"

"Let me clue you in, Jane: sweet nothings aren't the answer."

"I think," Jane said slowly, "that if you answered your own question, you'd say you wanted the truth. It's what you always say you want."

"But you don't believe it," she frowned.

"I think that in some cases, you'd find the truth to be so self-serving that you'd decide I was lying."

"What does that mean?" She was so tired of trying to guess what was going on in his head.

"Look." Jane's voice was soft and a little hoarse. "The truth is...the truth is, I really want you to be happy. Okay? That's the most important thing, that you do what makes you happy."

She was taken aback by his sudden display of emotion. "I wish I knew what that was," she admitted.

Jane was silent for a moment. "It's not like you to not know your own mind, Lisbon."

"I know."

"What's in your way? If you need to talk it through, maybe I can help." His eyes were soft as he looked at her, gently encouraging.

She shook her head. "I'm no good at the personal stuff. Never have been. Sometimes I think I should just let Marcus leave and go back to focusing on my job. But...if I ever want anything else, I have to work for it, right? This might be my only chance to make a real home. Maybe even a family."

Jane focused on his hands again. "That has to be built on a solid foundation. Do you...do you love him?"

She honestly didn't know, but she didn't think she could admit that. "I...think I could."

"But you don't yet." Jane tapped his lips with a finger. "Is something holding you back?"

"I..." She swallowed. "I think I was hoping for something...else. But it seems stupid to pass up a real chance for something that might never happen."

Jane nodded, looking down again. "I won't pretend I don't—"

He broke off as the waiter approached, making her want to scream. She barely heard Jane order the expensive wine as she scanned the menu, picking a dish at random. Then she looked at Jane as the waiter left again, expecting him to change the subject but desperately hoping he wouldn't.

"This other thing you were hoping for," Jane said slowly. "I think there's a good chance it would disappoint you."

"Maybe," she said slowly. Her heart was beating way too fast as she realized that this was it. She could have her answer, once and for all. "But I'll never know if I don't try." She took a deep breath, eyes fixed on the table. "Unless he just doesn't feel that way. I'd understand. I just need to know."

Jane made a little "hmph," folding his restless hands together. "See, this is where the problem lies. If he told you what you want to hear, would you believe him? Or would you, at some point afterward, begin to wonder if he lied because he's such a selfish coward he couldn't deal with the idea of you leaving?"

"If he wants me to stay enough to lie to me, doesn't that mean he cares?" Lisbon asked, stealing a glance at him.

Jane shook his head a little, and his voice was so low she could barely hear him. "You surely don't doubt he cares. But is it enough?"

"Why wouldn't it be?" she wondered.

Jane laced his fingers, then spread them again in a gesture that reminded Lisbon of a magician releasing a dove. "You deserve a good man."

She waited in vain for him to continue. "And?"

"And you have one. The other guy...he's not."

The truth dawned on Lisbon with blinding clarity. The idiot was picking now to let his self-loathing overcome his selfishness. She'd always hated it when he tried to tell her he was somehow not worth saving, that he couldn't be fixed. He'd survived so much, and he'd taken down a monster without becoming one himself. His good heart was obvious to anyone who'd ever seen him with children or grief-stricken parents and spouses. He'd killed for the first time to save her life, and he'd done his best through the years to protect her. And he'd written her those beautiful letters. Those surely hadn't been lies. And they hadn't come from a bad man.

"I'm not some pampered princess looking for Prince Charming," she said firmly. "I'm a cop who's seen way too much of the worst in people. My own brothers barely speak to me. I haven't had a friend outside of work for years, even in Cannon River where I really tried. I did. But ordinary people just can't understand." She took a breath and closed her eyes. "Even Marcus. He has no idea who I really am. No idea. And if he knew I don't think he would...he wouldn't understand."

Now that she'd said it out loud, she knew she'd been fooling herself all along. No matter what happened with Jane, she couldn't go with Marcus. It wouldn't be fair to either of them.

"I've been working so hard to be who he wants, but I'm not." How could she have been so stupid?

Jane's hand covered hers. "Teresa," he said earnestly, "never change. Not for anyone. You're the best person I know."

"Not many people would agree with you," she said wryly.

"More than you think," he insisted. "If you don't trust me, ask Cho."

She huffed a brief laugh at the idea.

"Teresa." He was playing with her fingers now, and his touch was sending shivers up her arm. If he could make her hand feel like this, what would it be like to have him touch her all over with those talented long fingers? She shivered at the thought. Then she realized he was talking again. "You have been...the most important person in my life since...since my family."

"We both know that's not true," she replied, looking at him. Red John had definitely held that position for most if not all Jane's years at CBI.

Jane had the grace not to argue, but he let go of her hand as the waiter arrived with the wine. After Jane made a production of swirling the rich red liquid in his glass and tasting it, the waiter poured glasses for them both, and Lisbon took a long sip.

"Whoa there," Jane chuckled. "This deserves to be savored, not gulped."

He could go screw himself, she thought. She was going to have to let Marcus go, and Jane wasn't giving her anything but empty compliments. She was going to die alone, just like she'd always feared. She'd damn well drink her wine any way she wanted.

"Hey," Jane said, his voice soft and serious. "I meant it, Lisbon. I know you think that he was more important, but that was only true in the beginning. After...after he was dead, my next thought was of you. I called you to let you know I was okay. I ran so you wouldn't have to testify at my trial. I wrote you so you wouldn't worry. I only agreed to come back so I could see you again. My life was empty without you, no matter how I tried to fill it."

Lisbon felt her heart melt. That was possibly the most beautiful thing anyone had ever said to her.

"I tried so hard to stop feeling this way, because the idea of letting anyone close to me is terrifying, for obvious reasons. But I couldn't." He glanced at her, and she saw that he wasn't trying to hide anything for once.

"And the truth is..." He stopped to clear his throat, but he still sounded choked up. "The truth, Teresa, is that I can't imagine waking up knowing that I won't see you. The truth is...I love you."

Lisbon wanted to pinch herself. She had to be dreaming. Maybe she'd hit her head somehow?

Jane sat up straight, letting out a long breath. "You can't imagine how good that feels to say out loud. But it scares me, and it is the truth. It is the truth of what I feel." He smiled, his lips trembling. "And I'm sorry it took me so long to get to this, because you deserve to hear it. I love you, Teresa. And it makes me happy to be able to say that to you."

She beamed at him, eyes filling with tears. "You really mean it?"

"Yes, I do. Every word of it." The naked emotion on his face told her this was no con.

"Good." She had to say it back, didn't she? But not until she'd broken up with Marcus. She wasn't a cheater. "Because I feel the same way."

Jane's grin lit up the dark restaurant. "Well, that's lucky." Then he sobered, showing her a little of the hurt and fear he'd been concealing. "What about Pike?"

"He'll understand." And if he didn't, it wouldn't change anything. The person she had wanted hopelessly for years was within her reach; what woman wouldn't throw everything away for that?

She was suddenly seized with a fear that she was somehow hallucinating this. Maybe the mobster had spiked the wine? "Say it again," she urged.

"Say what again?" Jane didn't quite achieve the innocent air he was trying for, and she didn't quite achieve her "don't bullshit me" look in return.

Then she held her breath as his expression became determined, and he leaned over to kiss her, one long finger under her chin to tilt up her lips to his easy reach. And it wasn't just a peck, but a whole series of slow, thorough smooches she was delighted to return.

"Bread for the table," the waiter announced, setting something down, but Lisbon ignored him. She'd waited for this too long to let anyone interrupt them. Instead, she scooted closer so she could slide her hand from Jane's cheek to the curls at the back of his neck. He tasted like rich wine with an underlying note of tea, and she couldn't get enough of him.

When they parted for breath, Lisbon was glad to see that Jane's grin was as dopey as hers felt. He took in her expression, then leaned in again. She closed her eyes, expecting another toe curling kiss, but instead he whispered, "No chance anyone will make us as FBI now."

She snorted a laugh, then gave him a playful shove back into his own seat. They smiled at each other until the waiter arrived with their food, then tried to pay attention to eating, with indifferent success.

A stray memory made Lisbon nearly snort wine out her nose, and Jane patted her on the back. "You okay?" he asked, the happiness on his face giving way to anxiety.

"I'm fine," she gasped out. "Really. I'm fine."

"Okay. Try to remember, we're supposed to savor the wine, not snort it," he replied.

"I was just remembering," she said airily, "that time you said you'd never seduce me over a meal. You said it would be...what was the word?"

"Sophomoric," Jane said. "And technically, I seduced you before the meal."

"Technically, you haven't seduced me yet," Lisbon retorted.

"True, so I fail to see the point. I assume you'll want to talk to Pike before this goes any further, so how about I stop by your place tomorrow with dessert?"

A swarm of butterflies invaded her stomach. "That sounds good, yeah."

"Good." Jane reached for her free hand and held it for the rest of the meal.

mmm

The next day, Lisbon encountered Abbott in the break room. "Good morning, Lisbon," he said. "How was your dinner with Jane?"

Try though she might, she couldn't keep the blush from creeping over her face. "Oh, uh, it was fine."

Abbott smiled. "Good, good. Glad to hear it."

"I think Jane has a plan," she added quickly, because it had been a working dinner, at least in theory.

"Hopefully more than one," Abbott chuckled as he left.

Had he winked at her? No, she must be imagining it.

mmm

The talk with Marcus was painful, but when it was over, she let herself anticipate Jane's visit. The case was wrapped up, with poor Mr. Aurelio's testimony sure to send Acardo away for murder, and Abbott had given the team tomorrow off. Poor Kim would need it to heal the cracked rib she'd suffered during the takedown. Lisbon wouldn't consider any other possible reasons suggested by the wink she'd seen Abbott give Jane as he left the office.

What was taking him so long? She'd been home for nearly two hours and changed clothes four times, which was very unlike her. But she couldn't figure out what on earth to wear on a date with someone who'd seen her in just about every possible outfit already, from formalwear to her sleeping jersey. And it wasn't like they were going out to dinner; he'd specified dessert. She'd finally settled on black jeans that made her ass look good and a dark green blouse she'd caught him sneaking a peek down, back in California. Then she'd opened a bottle of red wine and sat down to wait.

There was about half of it left when the knock on her door finally came. Lisbon finished her glass, wiped her suddenly damp palms on her jeans, and went to answer it.

Jane's smile did nothing to calm her nerves, though she smiled back reflexively. "Hi."

"Hey. I brought cannoli. Mrs. Aurelio made them specially." He held up a white bag.

"Great. Come on in." She stepped back so he could enter.

Jane went into the living room, looking around with his usual avid curiosity. He set the bag on the coffee table, then turned to face her, smiling. "Deer in the headlights isn't exactly the look a guy hopes for from the woman he's courting."

"Courting?" she echoed, smirking.

"I think that's the correct term for it, yes."

"And here I was hoping for seduction." She relaxed into their familiar banter.

"That's part of it, yes. But I'm hoping for something more than an amazing night in your bed." His eyes were so intense she felt almost mesmerized looking at him. "No, let me clarify: I intend for this to be the first of many, many amazing nights together. A lifetime, in fact."

She'd known he wouldn't be interested in a casual fling, but hearing him talk about spending the rest of their lives together took her breath away. If any other guy had said that, she would have run for the hills. But from Jane, it felt reassuring, like a promise he wouldn't leave her again. She tried to cover her sudden rush of emotion by saying, "So you're saying if I let you stay, I'm stuck with you?"

"You'd only feel stuck with me if you ever wanted to be rid of me," Jane pointed out. "I'll make it my business to see that you don't." His lips quirked into a brief grin. "At least, not beyond the usual moments of annoyance we both expect at work."

"Not turning over a new leaf, then?" She folded her arms, wondering how much she could expect his behavior to change, if at all.

"Why change something that works?" he chuckled. "I'm not suddenly going to morph into the perfect boyfriend, Teresa. I'm still me, for good and bad. There was really no need to down half a bottle of wine to fortify yourself for my arrival."

"I expected you sooner," she replied. "Would you like some?"

Jane stepped closer, smirking. "I don't want to risk any impairment, no. But I'm curious about the vintage." Then he lowered his mouth to hers, and she welcomed him in to explore and taste to his heart's content. It was a long time before he pulled back. "Mm. Nice."

"Nice?" she frowned.

"The wine is nice. You, my dear, are spectacular. Intoxicating." He kissed her again, this time sliding his hands under her blouse to explore the skin of her back. His touch made her tremble, and the thought that she could do the same to him made her breathless.

"Bedroom?" he murmured, nibbling at her neck.

"Mm hm." She wasn't going to need much foreplay, she knew. She'd had years of it, in a way.

Taking his hand, she led him down the hall with a smile.

mmm

They lay in each other's arms afterward, catching their breath. Then Jane kissed her forehead. "Sorry for the rush. We'll take our time next time."

"Don't you dare apologize," she said. "I'm not complaining." She'd come twice, so it wasn't like she'd needed more time.

"Good." He let his smile go smug, and then he kissed her again before getting out of bed. She admired the view of his naked ass on his way to the bathroom, promising herself she'd get her mouth on it before sunup.

She heard him throw the condom away and clean up, and then he returned and handed her a warm, damp washcloth on his way out of the room so she could do the same. She took a moment to absorb the fact that Patrick Jane was roaming her house naked as a jay bird, and she was still wearing a broad grin when he returned with the bag of cannoli.

"Now that's what I like to see," Jane said with satisfaction, kissing her as he sat on the edge of the bed. "I promised you dessert, and I don't want you accusing me of making false promises."

As she took the cannoli, she couldn't help a little giggle. "Could you have found a more phallic dessert?"

"Only at the sex shop," he replied, nearly making her choke on her first bite. "I'm a little surprised you're willing to eat in bed."

She shrugged. "These are worth a load of laundry."

"Yes, they are." Jane took a bite and hummed his appreciation. "In fact, there's only one way I can think of that they'd taste better."

"Yeah?"

Jane leaned over and dribbled some of the filling on her breast, then licked it off.

When she could breathe again, Lisbon said, "If that's what you're up to, you're the one doing the laundry."

Jane chuckled, swiping at her nipple with his tongue. "With pleasure."

"Now that," Lisbon said, running her fingers through his hair, "is really what a girl wants to hear."

"Finally," Jane said in mock exasperation.

She laughed into his kiss.

A/N: If you're waiting for the next chapter of The Prisoner of Napa, I'm sorry for the delay. I had to put my beloved kitty to sleep last week, and I needed to write some comfort fluff to lure my muse out of hiding before I could attempt plot again. I hope you enjoyed this, and now I'll get back to work on the adventures of Queen Teresa and her ersatz prince. Thanks for reading!