Title: Cell Block Tango
Author: tromana
Rating: M
Summary: An unusual predicament causes Jane and Lisbon to take a few new steps in their dance.
Characters/Pairings: Jane/Lisbon
Notes: Most of the blame for this is on ch19777 and her discussion of 'boundaries'. The rest is on Chizuru-chibi, who asked me to write something steamy a while back. This is the best I could come up with.

Cell Block Tango

"Damn it, Jane," Lisbon seethed as the door to the jail cell shut with an almighty bang.

Jane just grinned at her and Lisbon scowled. It was so like him to behave as this was his intention all along. It was his fault that the undercover operation had been screwed up. This kind of thing was not meant to happen to her. She felt vulnerable and exposed, not just because of what she was wearing, but because she was a cop being held in custody in a backwater police station. It didn't matter that it had limited resources, so she had the respite of sharing a cell with Jane - and as a consequence, she had that little comfort. It didn't matter that she couldn't see the other two individuals who were under arrest because of the layout of the police station. It had been an uncharacteristically busy night for this town's police station, especially considering their unjust arrest. But still, the only thing that mattered was that the others inmates probably knew her status from the brief glances they had shared when she and Jane were guided to their cell for the night. After all, Jane always said it was so obvious that she was a cop.

Unconsciously, she rubbed her bare arms as she collapsed onto the cot. Apparently, it hadn't been so obvious to the incompetent LEO who had stripped away the last vestiges of dignity she had as he placed her and Jane under arrest. Maybe she had become a better actress under Jane's tuition, but right now, that wasn't a good thing. They'd even believed that her service weapon had been stolen rather than something she genuinely had the right to use. Sometimes, it disconcerted her just how much of herself she pinned on her identity of a cop. Having it stripped away from her, albeit temporarily, was disconcerting. Even while undercover, she hadn't fully assimilated the role of 'drugs dealer'. She always had her ulterior motive firmly at the forefront of her mind. The sooner that Rigsby and Cho arrived to clear up this mess, the better. Only then would she start to feel like herself again.

"Teresa," Jane said and she shivered at the sound of her name. "It's okay; we'll be fine. In the morning, Cho and Rigsby will pick us up and clarify that it's all one big misunderstanding."

She rolled her eyes; he was only telling her what she already knew and that was not her main issue, either. In reality, her problem was lots of little things that had all balled up into one mess, leading to her being in this place. Not only had their cover been blown mile-wide, but the drugs dealer they had been attempting to arrest was probably miles away by now. Lisbon clenched her fists; another murderer was on the loose because a dumb cop couldn't see the truth when it was right in front of his face. Even Jane with his powers of persuasion hadn't been able to make the man see sense. She hated this; she hated that they were stuck in the middle of nowhere and that it was going to be at least eight hours until the rest of her team showed up. She hated that the case had gone so wrong. And she hated that Jane seemed to take this all in his stride. The sooner this nightmare was over, the better.

"Come here," Jane continued when she didn't answer and refused to even look at him. He was sitting on the cot on the opposite side of the jail cell and he patted the thin mattress encouragingly. "Come on, there's no point in continuing to sulk. There's nothing we can do 'til morning."

"You could pick the lock," she suggested, though her heart wasn't really in it.

"What? And get us into even more trouble?" Jane answered in jest; he knew she didn't mean it anyway. "I was thinking we could just talk instead."

The way that Jane stressed the word talk switched something in her mind. For years, she had been trying to persuade him to trust her and to confide in her about important things. She viewed him as her partner and between cops, that relationship was sacrosanct. Even Jane understood the importance of that. However, it only worked it both individuals followed the unwritten rules and that included complete and utter honesty. There had always been barriers between them – and she believed there always would be - but some of the walls had crumbled significantly over time. In spite of the barriers, Lisbon knew that their bond had gone far beyond a normal relationship; she didn't know how to describe it, but this was something she had never experienced before. But, it never stopped her from wanting that little more back in return. Sometimes, it just felt like she was always giving more than she got back from him. However, that was just in her nature; if she wanted to save him from himself, then she had to give everything she had to do so.

Maybe, just maybe, finally having a deep and meaningful conversation - albeit under unusual circumstances - was his way of apologizing to her. After all, he seemed to behave like he was physically incapable of uttering the word 'sorry' and instead chose to show his remorse in other ways. What he was offering was scraps, but it was enough for her. Lisbon knew that she could only take what he was willing to give her.

With a heavy sigh, Lisbon stood up and promptly allowed herself to rest beside Jane. She was grateful for the privacy that their specific jail cell provided them, even if she would never feel entirely comfortable being on the wrong side of the bars. Immediately after, Jane's hand migrated to her thigh and she didn't object, complain or move. In general, she wasn't a tactile person, but with Patrick Jane, it had always been different. Ever since she had first met him, there had been something about him that she inherently trusted. He would never intentionally hurt her and that was what made her feel comfortable in his presence. She understood why he was the way he was and that feeling was entirely mutual.

"It's my fault we're in here," Jane admitted. "I was the one who insisted that we shouldn't have direct contact with the others. I said we should assimilate with the suspects as much as possible, right down to the drugs."

Lisbon was surprised that he had tackled the issue head on. It was very rare that he admitted he was at fault, or that he had made a tactical error of some variety when it came to attempting to close a case. In fact, he just didn't seem to make mistakes at all. After all, he never bothered to tell her all of his hunches – only the ones which, inexplicably always seemed to be right. As a consequence, it was sometimes hard to remember that Jane was only human; when it came to solving cases, he had a near perfect record. In fact, it appeared that Jane only had one person who could elude him time and time again and that was Red John.

"I'm the boss; I agreed to it," she answered back sharply and turned her head from the brick wall to stare him direct in the eye. "This is something I will be judged for because I cleared it. It always comes back to me; you know that."

"But that still doesn't mean it's your fault. You know you would never have gone down this path if it wasn't for me."

Shifting uncomfortably, she glanced away. Jane had had a massive effect on her decisions as a senior agent ever since she had taken him under her wing. She had become more dangerous, more reckless and a tiny part of herself both loved and hated him for it. Once, she had always prided herself for her utmost professionalism, but that had long since been forgotten. Although it was Jane's suggestion that they go completely undercover with no contact with anybody else - their testimonies would still have stood up in court - deep down, she knew that it was her adopting his reckless behavior. Not one of them was superhuman and their subsequent arrest was evidence of that.

They had been so close to closing the damn thing too. They had been a matter of minutes away from a confession from their drugs dealer-come-murderer before their cover had been blown. And that irked her considerably; despite the fact the victim had been a prostitute, she still deserved justice. That was why she had pursued this case so doggedly. Nobody else cared, but she did.

"Jane..." she started, but he cut her off.

"You're too good to me, Teresa. You always have been."

"Don't say that."

She couldn't look at him anymore. Stubbornly, she turned around and stared at the bare brick wall which was opposite the entrance to the cell. It was a far better alternative to the bars which reminded her she was trapped in an enclosed space with no means of escape. Lisbon hated feeling like a caged bird; it reminded her of her childhood and her inability to escape the wrath of her father. It was one of the many reasons she had been unable to commit to a relationship, too. Whether the bars were imagined or real, as they were in this case, she always had to be able to see some means of exit before she felt truly comfortable.

In response, Jane's hands moved to her shoulders and he started to rub them gently. With expert fingers, he worked his way at the knots in her upper back and she moaned gently in relief. Her mind was screaming that this was a step too far and that he absolutely had to stop, but the rest of her just didn't care. She was tired, frustrated and beyond stressed. And what he was doing was nice. It didn't surprise her at all that her consultant was an expert when it came to massage. He had that keen eye for detail which meant he could probably see what needed to be done where. She shifted uncomfortably for a second; this was a clear reminder that he could read her like an open book.

"Stop overthinking," Jane instructed, pausing in his ministrations as he did so. "We're not doing anything wrong."

"Aren't we?" she countered.

"No. Besides, do you have a better suggestion for something to do?"

Of course, the stubborn part of her mind screamed out yes, she did have a better suggestion. His actions had promptly cut short the serious conversation they had been sharing. It was so like him to subvert it in one way or another. Then again, he wouldn't have been Patrick Jane if he didn't use distraction techniques. She saw them coming these days, but sometimes it was just too tiring to fight against them. With Jane, it was always so much easier just to let him do what he wanted to do and then pick up the pieces when he was done. If only she had learned that fact years ago; it would have saved her so much stress and heartache.

Equally though, she was finding Jane's actions incredibly soothing. If she closed her eyes, she could almost imagine she was in a different place entirely, maybe even with a different masseuse. Maybe she could pretend that she was with somebody who was tall, dark and handsome; physically, more her type than Jane ever had been. The latter didn't matter though; she was quite content with who her company was, even if she was still angry about the predicament they found themselves in. Besides, she knew that she had always had a lingering attraction to Jane; he was a handsome man, but it was the way their personalities clicked that made her go slightly weak at the knees. He probably was more than aware of that, too. If only the stubborn cop had accepted that Rigsby had been telling the truth about their true identities over the phone, but he hadn't. Instead, he insisted upon seeing solid identification and that required a five hour drive for her team's part. Maybe then, this very action could have genuinely been happening elsewhere.

But, they were still themselves. Lisbon knew that it was literally because of the enclosed space that they were behaving in the ways that they were. If they were elsewhere, then she would have avoided facing Jane after the humiliation of their arrest and he would have been acting like he had done nothing wrong instead of being remorseful.

"Lay down," he instructed softly. "I want to work on a different subset of muscles." She immediately froze before he continued speaking. "You can always tell me to stop if you think I'm going too far. You know that, right?"

She nodded shortly. She trusted him; she had to now. They had come such a long way from where they had started. And being in such close proximity to him, with no audience whatsoever, Lisbon could feel her inhibitions and her fear slipping away from her. As much as this jail cell was a cage, it also served another purpose: it protected them both from the horrors that lingered outside. So, after he shifted off of his cot, she laid down, just as he asked. Lisbon could sense his head above her, even with her eyes closed and once again, his hands were around her shoulders and her neck. As he worked his magic, she could feel the stress of the day seeping away. Considering everything that had happened, it was a wonder that he had managed to achieve a state of relaxation in her body and her mind. His hands worked methodically, pressing down on her skin, getting lower and lower until her eyes sprang open.

"Remember, just say the word..." he said haltingly.

"Okay," she breathed, but she wasn't sure how she managed to get the word out at all.

"You want me to stop?" he questioned, but she merely shook her head and allowed her eyes to flutter shut once more.

Lisbon knew he was undoing her shirt, but she didn't object. Of all the places for this to be happening to her, she had never envisaged being in a jail cell. As his fingers glided down her breasts, towards her black lace bra, they moved her cross necklace to one side. And that was half the reason she refused to think too much about this kind of thing; Catholicism was ingrained into her very being. But for now, she tried to put it to one side and just enjoy the gentle pressure that Jane was applying to her upper body. While she had taken several lovers in the past – not once being able to truly to commit to them in the long run – not one of them had treated her to this kind of diligence and attention to detail. Worse, she didn't know where the hell this was going.

It was Jane. Even after all these years, even with how she had learned to read him at a rudimentary level, he was still completely unpredictable. Any feelings she'd had for him, she had forced herself to bury them down as deeply as possible. He was still grieving for his wife and daughter; he had no interest in other women. When he'd slept with Lorelei Martins, it had been a tactical plan rather than out of lust and a need for companionship. But that didn't explain what he was doing now. This level of sheer intimacy wasn't anything she had ever expected to see from Patrick Jane. In spite of how she knew she felt for him – deep down – she had long since accepted that the only thing he could offer her in return was an unconditional friendship.

But the words 'love you' rang through her mind. They often did, whenever she was alone and overthinking a situation. Now, her memory banks were screaming them back at her, trying desperately to convince her that maybe this wasn't quite as unexpected as she originally thought. It wasn't entirely working because this all felt so ludicrous. All she could do was hope and pray that this wasn't some twisted way of him giving himself up to her in apology for his actions over recent months, or even years.

"You know, you're really quite beautiful, Teresa."

Whenever he used her forename, it made her shiver. There was something special about it, like he was using it to prove he understood her right to the very core. She sat bolt upright, aware that her shirt was open and she was exposing far more flesh than she would have liked, but she needed to see into his eyes. She had to know what his intentions were before they went too far. There were some things that you just couldn't pretend didn't happen. If they dared take the plunge, then they wouldn't be able to take it back. Heck, as far as she was concerned, this had already changed their relationship. Whether that was for better or worse would remain to be seen.

She didn't say a word, just raised a skeptical eyebrow. Lisbon watched carefully, trying to decipher what he was going to say next and where he wanted to take this. After all, this was something that could easily lead to them both landing up with broken hearts – and they both had more than enough heartache to deal with already. In the end, there was no need for words. There was a certain look that she recognized in his eyes and that was one she had only ever seen twice before: it was a look that Greg Tayback and Sam Bosco had given her at two points in her past. It was one that made her feel safe, wanted and most importantly, loved.

Lisbon briefly wondered if she had missed the signs all along. Or maybe, they had needed to be in enforced close quarters to be able to deal with. Then there was the possibility that Jane had only recently been able to acknowledge it all, because of his history.

And that was what scared her most of all.

In the end, words were unnecessary. She leaned forwards and firmly pressed her lips against his, burying her hands into his golden curls. It took Jane a moment to react, but when he did, he took control, even though she was unwilling to divest it. No longer was she content with him guiding where things went; it was time for her to be an active participant in this thing. His tongue did devilish things and she audibly gasped when his teeth nipped at her bottom lip. It shouldn't have been a surprise that Jane was so playful when it came to kissing, but then, it had been a long while since she had last shared a kiss with somebody that really meant something to her.

Somewhere along the line, Jane had managed to divest her of her shirt and was now fumbling with her bra. Rolling her eyes, Lisbon's fingers made light work of the clasp and she allowed her undergarment to fall to the ground. Jane's pupils were dilated, filled with lust at the sight of her bare breasts and she couldn't help but smile wryly as he cupped them gently in his hands. As his fingers skimmed over her nipples, she couldn't help but notice that she was at a distinct disadvantage. Somehow, Jane felt far too clothed in comparison to her and that just wasn't fair. Unlike her bra, her fingers trembled as she slowly unhooked the buttons of his loose blue shirt – the vest and jacket had been given up prior to their undercover operation – but Jane remained oblivious to what she was doing. If she had known that her body could have had this much power over the man, then maybe she would have dared to do something about him long before.

"I think I underestimated you. You're one of the most beautiful creatures I've ever seen," he muttered, his voice husky as she pushed the shirt off of his shoulders. Briefly, she allowed her hand to run down his toned torso, enjoying the feel of his physique at her fingertips. She had never imagined that this was what he was hiding behind his god-awful suits, even after his brief near-drowning a couple of years ago.

"Are you sure this is what you want?"

The words fell out of her mouth easily, but she had to ask. She had to quell that one last niggle for once and for all.

"It's what I've wanted for years."

That was all she needed to hear. It quelled any fears that her love for him was unrequited; it was enough to make her realize that Jane was telling the entire truth this time. He wasn't hiding behind shadows and lies, but telling her frankly and honesty. She knew that he couldn't say he loved her, not yet, but this was enough.

And promptly, as he leaned forwards and peppered her skin with kisses, it was enough to make her forget entirely about where they were. Her attention was solely focused on him and what he was doing. In between crushing kisses, she divested him of pants and boxers, to allow herself to see him in all his glory. Tentatively, she took hold of his length and skimmed her fingers up and down it, but her attention remained on his face. She watched, scrutinized, as her ministrations took effect on his expression. His eyes closed and he looked at peace. But soon, the moment was over and he guided her back up to her feet. Playtime was clearly over and it was time for him to even out the odds, again. After all, since she had taken control, she had made them imbalanced once again and Jane was as much of a control freak as she was, and if not, more so.

"Wait," she murmured, and as promised, he stopped immediately. "Protection?"

They didn't have any condoms at their disposal. Anything they'd had in their pockets prior to their arrest had been stripped of them and bagged up as supposed evidence. Come morning, when her team had cleared up any indiscretion, then they would get their belongings back. But that didn't help them out in the here and now.

"My blood work is clean and you're on the pill."

"I'm clean too," she answered with a quiet sigh. "But the pill isn't one hundred percent guaranteed."

"Is it a risk you are willing to take?"

She paused for a second before coming to a decision. In her heart, she knew these were the last words she'd have any coherency to say. "Yes, you?"

He didn't answer; he didn't need to. As he kissed her for what felt like the thousandth time – and just the second at the same time - she could feel his hardening member pressing up against her stomach. Lisbon swallowed down the salvia that was building up in her mouth. That was a promise of things to come, or so she hoped. They still had to be careful, and she was terrified that one wrong move would shatter Jane into a thousand pieces. So, she gave up fighting for control, allowed him to take the lead and lay her back down on the cot. She accepted his kisses willingly, and could feel the warmth building up in the pit of her stomach. Lisbon tried to return Jane's attention as best as she could, but she was aware that he needed to be in control, at least this time around. If – when – this happened again, then maybe it would be different. But, she had to give herself up to him before she could take anything. That was all too clear.

She arched her back and shivered as his hands guided off the skirt – far shorter than she'd have liked, but necessary for the undercover operation they had been interrupted in – and her panties followed them to the floor. Lisbon grumbled quietly at the moment's indiscretion. She had almost gotten used to his constant touch and investigation of her body. Jane had spent minutes probing scars she had gotten over the years, marveling at her lithe frame and soft curves. For once in her life, she felt like she was a woman who was beautiful and worthy of attention, in spite of the flaws she saw on a daily basis.

After what felt like a lifetime of buildup, his fingers slipped inside of her, stimulating her body into action. She knew it wouldn't be too long until she was ready to take him and she could feel that he felt the same way. After only a couple of moments, he removed his fingers and carefully positioned himself. Lisbon focused on the feel of his hands against the small of her back, the way his hair felt between her fingers. She allowed her body to take control, as she moved with him, enjoying the pleasure they had denied themselves for so many years now. This had been too long coming and even the location wasn't enough to distract her from the feelings enclosed within her erratic heart. As much as she anchored him, it took this for her to realize that he had been doing the same to her all along.

Soon enough, she heard the gentle cry of his release and hers followed just moments after. She rode it out, enjoying the last waves of pleasure as they crashed over her. Not for an instant did she regret her decision. Come morning, they could figure out what they were going to do next.

Eventually, Lisbon found herself curling up by his side. She nuzzled her head into the crook of his neck, inhaling the smell of testosterone and sweat. He pulled a thin blanket over their naked bodies, cooling as sweat dried away. Lisbon was grateful that one small cot was enough to hold both their weight, and that she didn't have to move away from him. Jane's arms felt solid around her, reminding her that this was real and she couldn't escape it. However, she didn't have that familiar feeling of dread, or the desperate urge to run away. There wasn't even an overwhelming sense of humiliation which she had expected to overcome her from the first moment she had laid down on this cot. In fact, if she could stay this way forever, she would have been content.

But for now, she just allowed the sensation of sleep to overcome her. Just this once, she was allowed a moment of utter peace and tranquility.