Thanks to liisbon for the inspiration that was sorely needed! :D
Living the life of a free man was even more tiring than that of a condemned one. Patrick Jane had been trapped in a time that had felt like a decade long day. Each night merely a nap in this game of hide and seek. He'd needed Red John to serve a sentence, and for that, had spent hours in isolation. But now he was free.
His view of Teresa was unimpeded. Her rosebud lips, flare of her hips and startling viridescent eyes finally triggering a sensation down his neck and springing life into his pants. The rhythmic sway of her ass as she strutted down the CBI corridors, her breasts firmly supported by, what he assumed, was some kind of sports bra. The bit that ignited the fire from a flickering flame was knowing that she wasn't doing it on purpose, it was the nature of her being. If she had any idea that sitting on his couch, in the corner of the bullpen, was merely an innocent cover up for the delight he had watching her, he was sure she'd tone it down a few smouldering degrees.
Of course, he'd not told her how she made him feel, nor how he felt about her. She was an independent woman, after all! He was aware of the numerous occasions people had informed him of the attraction they both seemed to share for each other, but he couldn't be sure whether what those people saw was romance, or a rare, beautiful friendship. He was interested nonetheless.
He watched her now, as she stood at the plastic display board, untacking the images and documents from their recent case and filing them all into a box. When she shifted her weight from one leg to the other, he caught the sweetest, most brief glimpse of her bare hip before she yanked her t-shirt down.
"Another case wrapped up and thrown into the archives," he said behind her.
"Yep, justice for another family though."
He huffed a smile and fiddled with his ring. He waited for her to put the lid on the box before he said anything further, he needed her full attention…
"Lisbon… I've been meaning to talk to you about what happened."
"Nothing needs to be said, Jane. It's okay," she told him as she moved the case box onto Grace's desk.
"I feel there's a lot to be said, not from you, but me."
"Then I'm listening."
"Sit down," he said, harsher than he meant.
She stopped, questioning the point, then went over to his couch.
"I understand you prefer to play by the rules," he began. "And… I very rarely approach situations, and you, like I should do. But Red Joh- Tom McAllister, he impacted my visions. He manipulated me and moulded me like putty. I… I didn't realise until recently because for the first time in over two decades I'm alone with no real driving force. I've had time to think and reflect. I've also had time to grow familiar with my old self again, the one before you, even before Angela. I've not always been the conman that you think is referred to when my past is dragged up. A long, long time ago I was a fairly honest, reliable guy with self-respect. That's the persona that I've recycled and adopted. One that came naturally to me in these circumstances. I just wanted you to know… I've changed, and probably for the better. Do you understand that?.."
She looked at him for the first time as she leant back on his couch and gave a gentle nod. "Yeah… Yeah, I do."
"Okay then." He offered a reassuring smile.
"Is that all?"
No, it's not. There's so much more I want to tell you, but I can sense you've had enough…
"For now."
She got up and went to her office, Jane not getting distracted by the sight of her behind. He closed his eyes and breathed in the scent she'd imprinted on the couch cushion. It was a mixture of shower cream, deodorant and just Teresa's smell. She only wore perfume when having to testify in court.
He noticed her gathering up her bag and jacket when a question bounced into his head. He went over to her just as she walked out of her office.
"There's one more thing," he said. "Do you believe me?"
She stood and thought, at first not understanding what he meant.
"Give me more time with new and improved Jane, then I'll let you know."
"What's stopping you from believing me?" he asked, genuinely worried.
"I knew the old Jane better. Knew your tricks and antics. When life had gotten hold of your shoulders and you couldn't cope. You can't expect me to suddenly believe you have changed. I was preparing myself for where you might go or what you might do-"
"What do you mean?"
"You could have taken a turn for the worst. Lacked motivation for life or, for all I knew, gone completely insane. You'd had this single mission for over ten years and suddenly one day it's gone. Taken from you. I didn't know what coping mechanism you'd turn to or what impact it could have on you. I'm glad you've found a good place to pick up from. A better personality to convey. Now you can gradually build a life again, and I'm happy for you."
"I want you to be happy with me, Lisbon. What can I do?"
"Find a permanent home away from work and get some rest."
That's not what I meant…
"I'm sure that's of no help to you, though."
"It's more than you can imagine. Now go. Leave your place of work and go home." Her point was made.
"That's my starting block then."
Her lips, plump and a dusty guava-flesh pink, turned up at the ends. "Goodnight, Jane."
"Goodnight, Lisbon."
This time he allowed himself the simple pleasure of watching her stroll to the elevator.
