AN: When I originally watched this on Thursday, I wasn't sure if I was going to write a tag or not. Re-watching last night, I realized I wanted to expound on one little scene. Can I just say that wow - this season is great. And every episode continues to get better and better.
Jealousy and Justifications
It wasn't until they were nearly back to the hotel that he noticed Lisbon's triumphant smile. He was happy for her, happy she'd had her moment, and hopeful that Erica would no longer be an issue between them.
Still, there were some things that he needed to say. Things about Lorelei, and how much he was ashamed of what had happened. He hadn't been, at the time, given the circumstances, but with years to look back on, and Lisbon to love, the whole thing looked decidedly different.
Also, he now had some more to make up to Lisbon.
Before, she had simply been jealous of Erica, for a variety of reasons, even if she was unwilling to admit to them. Erica was lovely and knew it. She also knew precisely how most men worked, and had the ability to manipulate them all. Unfortunately, he had proven to not be an exception, even if he had managed to get her arrested the first time they'd met.
Yes, Lisbon had been jealous before, but now that she knew there had been a kiss, she was also hurt.
She'd been in love with him then, too, after all.
The fact that she had specifically brought up Lorelei in the next breath had told him just how badly she was hurt.
They hadn't ever talked about her before, not really, and certainly not since they'd been together. He found he wasn't looking forward to doing it now.
They crossed the lobby in silence, walking slowly. He was still sore from his encounter with the taser. He didn't know if that had been better or worse than being zapped with a cattle prod. Either way, not experiences he was eager to repeat again.
He had barely chained the door when Lisbon grabbed his jacket lapels and kissed him fiercely. He stumbled, instinctively wrapped his arms around her, setting his shoulders against the closest wall.
She was on her tip-toes, hands in his hair now, small body pressed flush to his. He slid his hands to the curve of her backside, pulled her closer, let her feel how much he wanted her already.
She stepped back, cheeks flushed, then grabbed both of his hands.
He followed willingly, eagerly, pulse pounding as she shoved him gently towards the bed, then followed, straddling him, lips on his neck.
There was no question that he was the one being taken this time.
He knew why. She needed to prove to herself that he was hers. And she wanted him to know that, too.
He kept his eyes locked on hers the entire time, making sure she understood that he knew exactly who he belonged to, knew exactly who was in this bed with him.
Eventually, she sprawled across his chest, panting, trembling just a little. He kissed her hair, her forehead, fingers tracing patterns on her back, still inside her.
"I love you, Teresa," he whispered, lips ghosting over her skin.
"I love you," she breathed back, kissing the spot just over his heart.
She shifted off of him, and he groaned a little at her loss before turning to face her, pulling the sheets up to her shoulders and offering her a grin. "I was wondering if we were going to be able to use this bed for something other than sleeping," he teased.
"Me, too," she muttered darkly, though he knew she wasn't angry with him now.
"Hm," he murmured. "You know, I wasn't the one parading around the room in a bathrobe last night," he told her. "You're quite the tease, do you know that? I wanted to unwrap you like a present, but I figured you'd probably bite my hand off if I tried."
She touched her nose to his, lips turned up a bit. Clearly, she was pleased, so he went on.
"And then I watched you get dressed. Very difficult to keep my hands to myself, especially since I knew exactly what you were wearing under that dress, my dear." His words were absolutely true. He found Lisbon sexy in anything, but she'd been wrapped in silk and lace the night before, purposely letting him see, letting him know what he was missing out on.
She kissed him, very softly. "Maybe if you're good, I'll wear them again." Her eyes were sparkling.
"I'll be a saint," he promised.
She gently pushed him to his back again, then snuggled into his chest. "I'm sorry I brought up Lorelei," she whispered unexpectedly. "I could tell it upset you."
He tried to shrug normally, though his heart was beating a little faster. "I brought up Mashburn."
"That's different. He was just a guy a had a one-night stand with." She waved one hand dismissively. "No, I don't particularly want to discuss him with you, especially since you and he have some sort of weird friendship, but it was very different from what you and Lorelei...um...had." She paused, and he could practically hear her thinking. "Anyway, I'm sorry."
He kissed her temple. "It's all right," he said quietly. "And it is something we should talk about, distasteful as it is." He sighed. "I slept with her," he said, "Once. In Las Vegas. I want to be perfectly clear that it only happened the one time."
Under his hands, he could feel her relax marginally. "You, obviously, know why I did it. It wasn't because I wanted to. Yes, it was the first time since...uh, well, it was the first time. But that kiss with Erica meant more than sex with Lorelei." He took a second to try and sort out the words in his head. "When I kissed Erica, I was...myself. When I was with Lorelei, I just let the lizard-brain man take over. She looked a bit like you, which certainly helped, but mostly, I just tried to not think at all."
He shifted them, pulling Lisbon closer. "Everything else was an act, or it was supposed to be, everything that happened after. I admit that I overestimated how unattached I could be, all things considered. It was a very dark point in my life." He frowned, remembering. He had come close to even losing Lisbon then.
"I'm sorry that I acted in such a way that you would believe she and I...had something. More than anything, I'm sorry I hurt you." Her fingers were gently running up and down his chest, and he found it soothing. "Though all of it," he said, "I just want you to know that you weren't the only one in love, even then."
She kissed him again, but very lightly. "Thank you," she whispered. "I needed to hear that." She offered him a shaky smile. "We don't have to talk about it ever again. In fact," she went on, "I don't want to talk about it ever again. It wasn't exactly my favorite part of life."
"It's a deal," he agreed easily, feeling the remainder of the tension this conversation had brought ebbing away. They were back on level ground.
Lisbon lay contentedly next to him for a few more minutes, then rolled away, muttering about a shower before they were crammed into an airplane for the next twelve hours.
He snuck out quietly, returned quickly, pleased to note that generous tipping could still get about anything done in an expedient manner.
When Lisbon exited the bathroom this time, he was innocently packing. He stole a kiss as he traded places with her, the hot water easing some of the strain of the taser.
She was wearing a long white dress he'd never seen before when he walked back in the room, towel around his waist. He stared.
"What?" she said, a bit self-consciously. "It's actually really comfortable! Besides, I got it for this trip, and I want to wear it."
"You're beautiful," he told her sincerely, lifting her knuckles to his lips.
Later, sharing ice cream with her on top of the building, watching the fireworks explode overhead, he decided the this trip had been a good idea after all, despite his initial trepidation. They were coming home stronger than they had been, and that was worth everything.
She slept in his arms on the flight back, and he was happy he still was quietly thrilled about it.
He was also quietly thrilled when they landed in Austin. It was home now, and he was looking forward to getting back to his life with Lisbon. He would take her more places, most assuredly, but for now, all he wanted was to walk through her front door and to feel like he belonged there.
He used his key, held the door open for her.
Mostly, everything was put away now, and it looked like an actual home once again. Lisbon sighed as she kicked her shoes off and curled up in the recliner. "I need to call Abbott, tell him we've landed," she said.
He stared dinner while she spoke, listening with half an ear as he dug through cupboards. When she started trying to explain how they had managed to catch Erica, she stumbled, and he plucked the phone from her hand.
"Hey, Dennis," he said, "I think I can explain it a little better."
When he hung up, Lisbon was looking at him like she wanted to murder him.
"What?" he asked innocently.
"I thought we were keeping things private!" she hissed. "You basically just outed us to the boss."
He chuckled, handing her the phone back. "Sweetheart," he said patiently, "in case you didn't notice, the boss already knows. In fact, the boss did his damnedest to get us together in the first place."
She still looked mad. "He might suspect," she argued, "but he doesn't know."
He turned back to the kitchen. "Just keep telling yourself that," he said. "But there was definitely only one hotel room booked for us in Beirut." He winked as he opened the refrigerator.
And then he laughed as he heard her horrified gasp. "Oh, my God," she breathed. "He does know."
He was still laughing as he poured her a glass of wine. "Teresa," he said, "what's the worst that could happen? He could, what, send us on exotic, exciting missions halfway across the world? Put us up in five-star hotel rooms?"
Lisbon put her head in her hands.
"My boss was assuming we were going to be having sex while on a case," she whispered helplessly.
He kissed her hair. "Yes, but if it makes you feel better, we waited until the case was actually solved. See? We're professionals."
She did not look amused, and he tried to smother his grin.
It didn't work.
Eyes narrowed, she swatted at him, and he caught her hands and drew her in, nibbled gently at her neck. "Don't be upset," he whispered, nuzzling into her cleavage.
"Oh, well, in that case, I feel so much better now," she muttered unhappily, even as she locked her fingers at the base of his neck.
"Hm," he murmured, lips on her skin again, "you know, I think I have an idea of something that really would make you feel better. Care to see if it works?" He nosed the fabric of her dress aside, kissing the soft flesh he found there.
She didn't reply, but the way she said his name later made him think that yes, it had definitely worked.
