A/N: I hate my plot bunnies. They're rabid, I swear. At the end of last month, I said I wasn't going to write a multiparter for this month's Jello Forever challenge. So instead, I've found myself writing not one, but two. Oh dear. Luckily, this is only a two-parter. I swear. Don't look at me like that. No, don't. Please?

x tromana

Title: Too Fiercely
Author: tromana
Rating: T
Characters: Jane/Lisbon, Team
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Summary: He could only afford one night and if that was what she wanted too, it was what she would get.
Spoilers: Up to 2x08 His Red Right Hand
Notes: written for boutondor in a LiveJournal prompt meme. Jello-Forever February 2010 Challenge Entry. Prompt: Love Songs. Inspired by, and the title comes from, 'As Long As You're Mine' from Wicked the musical.

Too Fiercely

Part One

The door clicked open and shut once more and Jane found himself having to bite down on his tongue to prevent himself from laughing out at the bitter irony. Lisbon was a law enforcement officer and proud of it and she should have known better - much better - when it came to home security. Still, he wasn't going to complain. It was because she was strangely lax when it came to locks and alarms that he was able to get into here, her inner sanctum, at all. That he could do what he wanted to do.

He sincerely hoped that the repercussions wouldn't hurt her too much, but whatever he thought, said or did, he knew that was just an empty promise. He'd already hurt her, even before he'd even stepped through the door, she just didn't know it yet. Jane had a feeling that it was going to hurt him a significant amount too, but that didn't matter so much. It was just additional pain to be shelved along with everything else that had gone wrong in his life and the losses he'd endured before. But he had a shrinking feeling that it could possibly hurt even more than he could imagine right now.

Ever since losing his wife and his baby, he knew that he was never going to be able to go through that again. He'd resisted his attraction to Lisbon for so long now and he'd long since accepted that it was a side of their overly-complex relationship that he would never be willing to try out. At times though, his mind taunted him and he found himself imagining Lisbon with softened eyes staring lovingly at a baby girl, a soft pink bundle of joy. He would have his arms wrapped tightly around them both and nothing could break their happy little family unit. Maybe in another time, another Universe, that could have been their reality, but certainly not this one. He could only afford one night and if that was what she wanted too, it was what she would get.

As light from the hallway filtered into her bedroom, a frown knitted across Lisbon's brow as she buried her face into her pillows and mumbled something incoherently. She wasn't particularly expecting to be disturbed that night. If anything, she'd have assumed that her cell phone would go off, calling her into work at some unholy hour. Certainly not the presence of a blond haired, blue eyed consultant who she berated as regularly as clockwork. Once she realized that the light penetrating her previously dark bedroom wasn't going to go away any time soon, she eventually turned over and stared at him through sleepy, slitted eyes. It took several blinks for her to confirm that she wasn't dreaming or hallucinating. Lisbon also knew that she should be angry; breaking and entering was a felony, after all, but she was too tired and confused even for that.

She wasn't too tired, however, to react almost immediately to the soft hands cupping her face, nor the gentle pressure of his lips as they came into contact with her own. As instincts took over from rationale (and made any underlying anger conveniently dissolve into nothingness), she knew that it was easier to remain silent. To let gentle touches, teasing mouths and ragged breaths do all the talking instead. The only word she uttered was confirmation that she agreed with what he was doing, that she was okay with him breaking into her home to seduce her. That this unexpected late night, or possibly early morning but she wasn't quite sure of the time and frankly didn't care either, tryst was entirely consensual.

As time marched on, touches grew more urgent, gazes more pleading. Like they both needed confirmation that what they were doing was real and was actually happening. It wasn't just some bizarre dream that they were about to be cruelly pulled out of unexpectedly. Except, the way he left her so suddenly, she felt as though he might as well have pulled her out of some trance-like state. As she stared at the rumpled bed sheets and ran her fingers through her knotted hair, she wondered just what had happened and more importantly, why.

Trying to sleep wasn't really an option, not with her mind whirring at a thousand miles an hour. She felt as though her entire life was in a state of disarray. Whenever one of them had tried to make a move, the other had pushed them back into place. But what had just occurred had felt so natural, so right. Why had they fought against it for so long? Oh yes. Two words. Red John. What had changed, allowing them to take the step? Carefully, she shrugged out of the soft robe which she had wrapped around her lithe body while deciding what to do in these terribly early hours, when everyone who was sane was still in a deep slumber. The shower water should have adjusted to the right temperature by now. Tentatively, she held her hand under the stream, flinching as the scalding water hit it. As she was about to step into it, she paused.

Her cell phone was ringing.

Sighing, she picked the robe back up and rushed back through to her bedroom to see who would be ringing her at four a.m. To be fair, there was only two likely culprits. Jane, to explain why he had disappeared as suddenly as he'd appeared in her home, or her boss, calling her into work. She sighed as she saw the name on the screen. Of course it wasn't going to be Jane. It would be too much to ask of him to receive an explanation of any sort.

"Boss?"

"We've had an anonymous tip-off regarding Red John."

"Right."

"He's dead."

"Really?"

"Yes, really."

"I'll be there in half an hour."

"Good."

The call ended abruptly, after Lisbon agreed to call in the rest of her team. With a sigh, she headed back into the bathroom. The room was filled with a heavy steam and she almost choked on it as she waded through to the shower to turn it back off. This, at least provided her with an ideal distraction from thoughts of her with Jane, even though she knew she'd have to face him again imminently. Though, she couldn't help but shudder at the coincidence. Just as she had been considering the serial killer and the way he seemed to be the major reason (or rather, excuse) either of them could come up with to avoid starting a relationship.

She arrived at the crime scene overly tired and overwhelmingly stressed. If anything was going to kill her soon, she swore it would be worry. If there was something to worry about, she'd find it. Lisbon knew that she may look cool and calm on the outside, but on the inside, she was really a bag of nerves. It was just fortuitous for her that she was good at pretending. Van Pelt and Rigsby arrived together, exactly three minutes after Cho, seeing little point in denying their relationship status as there was nobody around to pry. Lisbon nodded her greeting to them quietly, pressing her cell phone firmly against her ear. Despite the fact that officially, she didn't 'know' about them, she normally would have taken the time to remind them that the kind of behavior they were displaying was inappropriate for the work place.

On this occasion, she was distracted, however.

No answer.

Still.

She'd already tried seventeen times, at least.

And it was getting rather frustrating.

Flipping it shut, she dispelled the nagging voice in the back of her mind telling her that she needn't tell him that Red John is dead, because he probably already knew. She had work to do, a dead body to see, a crime scene to assess. If Jane was going to be stubborn enough to ignore her after what had happened only a couple of hours before, then so be it. She wasn't going to let him get a rise out of her for it. Work was her priority, as it always had been and going by what was happening now, probably always will be. As she walked into the dusty, cobwebbed room, she swallowed down the bile that what threatening to make its presence known. Not many crime scenes had that kind of effect on her, years of them had desensitized her, but the mixture of a bloodied corpse and a lack of sleep had changed things from the usual status quo.

When they'd finished everything they needed to do there, Cho cornered her for a quiet word, concerned about Jane's no-show. She was as honest with him as she could allow herself to be - there was no point in lying to him. She didn't know where he was and she didn't know why he was refusing to answer. Part of her had a feeling that she should mention his mysterious appearance at her apartment, but her desperation to protect her private life stopped her. But Cho didn't need to know that and they didn't need to talk about it. Both had the same shrinking feeling that Jane was responsible and felt like if they vocalized the opinion, it would make it seem like even more of a reality.

So, when they arrived back at CBI headquarters and she saw a post-it note attached to her computer screen in his familiar handwriting, her blood ran cold.

Especially so when she realized that they said 'I'm sorry'.

TBC...