A/N: This started as something and became something else. Do not own the characters. Enjoy!

Teresa Lisbon had just changed into her sleep clothes- a tee and some shorts left over from her college days- when she heard a faint knocking on the front door. Instinct had her check the peephole. Her surprise carried over when she allowed her guest access to her apartment.

"Jane! What are you doing here?" she asked, shocked yet curious as to why her consultant would visit her so late- and at home.

"Lisbon," Patrick Jane said as he looked around, not really seeing his surroundings. "Sorry I'm just dropping by. I thought if I called you would not agree to see me."

"Well, it is late," she said, but closed and locked them in just the same. She noticed he looked pale even under his Californian tan. "Sit. I'll make some tea."

He looked grateful as he sat on her couch. "Thanks. I'd love some."

She padded barefoot into her kitchen, using the time to think. She didn't have to know how to read body language or "minds" like Jane to know why he was there in her place at little over one in the morning. The case they had closed that night had affected him greatly.

Teresa shivered then jumped when the kettle gave its shrill whistle. She fixed his tea then took it to him. "It's Earl Grey," she said, almost apologetically.

He took the coffee mug from her hands. "It's fine." He placed it on a coaster then he watched her sit beside him in silence.

Teresa didn't know what to say that didn't sound contrived or shallow so she waited for him to speak.

Finally, he did. "I couldn't be in my house. Not after what just happened."

"Are you still upset you killed him?" she asked, speaking of the criminal Jane had shot hours before.

He picked his drink up but just held the warmth in his hands. "I've never killed before."

It was something she already knew. "You did what was necessary," she assured him.

He smiled humorlessly. "How could I sit in my empty house facing my wife and child knowing I killed the one person who could lead me to their killer?"

It was Teresa's turn to give a smile that was meant to be ironic. "Well, I am greatly you did what you did."

This time Jane put his drink down and took her hands into his tea warm ones. "God, Lisbon, that's not what I meant at all. I'm glad I was able to stop him. I just wish I hadn't shot him so deadly."

She shivered again as she thought of her brush with death that night. "He would have kept coming, Jane. In his eyes someone was going to die."

He ran a hand up her arm as if trying to warm her. "I would never want to trade your life for his," he said, adamantly. "Even for the guarantee he would hand over Red John to me."

She suddenly realized what she didn't have on- she never slept in bra or panties and that a coworker was rubbing her arm in her living room at one in the morning. She laughed nervously and ran her free hand through her unruly curls. "And here I thought you came over here to be comforted."

His smile was more natural. "I think we both need the human contact tonight." Then he cocked a blond eyebrow. "Are you nervous?"

She snorted convincingly. "Of you? Please."

"You almost died tonight," he said, softly.

"Not the first time," she said, though she felt her flesh pebble at the memory of the gun pointed right at her.

"I would bet it doesn't get easier."

She sighed. "You would bet right," she allowed.

"Here." He handed her the tea she had made for him. "Tea is very soothing." He waited until she took a drink before telling her, "People care about you, Teresa."

She smiled at the throwback to their conversation earlier that evening, showing he was actually listening. "Seems we both need reminding of that every once in a while."

"Hm. You'd really arrest me for killing the monster who murdered my family?" he asked, softly, studying her features.

"In a heartbeat. Vigilante is not part of the law, no matter how romantic is sounds."

He nodded. "Seems you almost believe that yourself." He stood.

She placed the tea down and went to stand in front of him. "Are you leaving already?"

His eyebrows show up into his blond curls on his forehead. "You want me to stay? Interesting."

She blushed. "I just thought...well, you just got here and I know how hard it is for you to stay in your house."

He took a step forward to stand flush against her. "Lisbon, are you offering me your bed?"

"Couch!" she insisted.

"Then I accept."

She vaguely wondered if he would have accepted if the bed had been offered.

The dream started innocently enough. A repeat of that night down to the conversation she and Jane ad shared. Yet, it turned different.

Their murderer got loose from the paramedics. He grabbed the gun. He aimed it for her... and there was Jane, standing there with the shotgun.

And he never shot.

"I'm sorry, Lisbon. I have to find Red John," he said then she felt the bullets riddle her body.

She woke up screaming, the pain in her dream so real.

"Lisbon? Teresa! What's wrong?"

The betrayal so fresh in her mind she pushed Jane away as he tried to hug her, comfort her. She put her knees to her chest and rocked as she tried to get rid of the nightmare.

Jane, shirt untucked and unbuttoned, bare feet, sat on the edge of the bed and watched.

"You stopped," she finally said, blinking away the tears before they fell.

"What did I stop?" he asked, softly, gently placing his hand on her bare knee.

This time she didn't push away. "You let him shoot me. For Red John."

He shifted closer and out his other hand on the back of her neck. "My obsession with him does not mean I sacrifice my friends."

She snorted and looked into his face. "We're not your friends, Jane. Just pawns in your game to win Red John's challenge."

He straightened quickly. "How can you believe that?"

She shook her head miserably and unfolded herself to place her arms around him, her head on his shoulder. "I don't I truly don't, Jane. Dreams make me crazy sometimes."

He wrapped her in his arms as well. "That I understand."

She lifted her head so she could look at him. "I'm sorry I woke you."

He shrugged. "You didn't. I was lying there listening to you breathe. You're not just a pawn, Teresa. I care for your wellbeing. I never thought after my wife's death I would but I do."

She looked at him, shocked. "You do?"

He chuckled. "Yes. Imagine my surprise as well."

Lisbon's dream was still in the darkened corner of her mind. "I guess we'll both stay up together then, listening to each other breathe."

He leaned in to kiss her cheek. "I can think of worse things."

As she laid on her bed, her head on Jane's shoulder, her hand on his bare chest she was soothed back to a peaceful slumber by his heartbeat and steady breathing and felt she had to agree with him.