Lisbon signed the last form and sat back in her chair, happy to have completed all the paperwork that wrapped up the three-week long undercover assignment that had resulted in the bust of a contract killer. Jane looked up at her from his place on the couch and smiled, sharing in the triumph.
"What do you say to some dinner to celebrate?" he asked nonchalantly.
"I think that's a great idea," Lisbon replied. Her stomach rumbled in agreement. "We do deserve to celebrate, don't we?"
"Yes, yes we do. What about Italian?"
"Sounds like a winner to me."
Lisbon slipped the stack of forms into a manila folder then grabbed her purse and headed for the door with Jane in close pursuit.
Jane gently rested his hand at the small of Lisbon's back as he guided her through the restaurant to their table at the far corner of the room. The trendy new Tuscan eatery was still filled with diners even though it was past 10:00 p.m. on a Tuesday night.
"Would you like to see the wine list?" the waiter with a heavy Latin accent asked after the police detective and her consultant had slid into the soft leather booth.
Lisbon looked at Jane to lead the way. He responded in the affirmative, ordering a 1997 Brunello di Montalcino in his best Italian.
"Very good, sir," the young waiter said with a bit of a bow then disappeared and headed toward the wine cellar.
"That's awfully expensive, Jane," Lisbon whispered, leaning across the table toward him.
A shy smile creased his lips, and he replied in a voice just as soft as hers, "Yes, it is."
Lisbon crinkled her nose and smiled broadly, her emerald green eyes dancing with delight at her brilliant and unpredictable partner. Jane always knew how to surprise her with his wit, but for some reason his impeccable taste always managed to catch her off guard. Patrick Jane should have been a diplomat, Lisbon thought, but then again she was quite glad that con man though he was, he was part of the Serious Crimes Unit of the CBI.
Jane reclined comfortably in the booth–his jacketed arms spread out across the top of it–and gazed at Lisbon. He enjoyed watching her. Every detail of her every movement and her every word found its way to his heart.
The waiter interrupted Jane's reverie. "Would you like to taste the wine?" he asked, now playing the role of the sommelier.
Jane took the wine glass by its long stem and swirled the burgundy-colored liquid around the glass then sniffed its bouquet. His sensuous lips parted, and he took a tentative sip. After softly chewing the vintage and holding it between his tongue and palate, he swallowed then cleared his throat and proclaimed it to be, "Lovely."
Lisbon smiled sweetly. She felt so middle-class when it came to culture. She was a cop, bred and buttered in Chicago, and even though she drank wine from time to time, her idea of a good alcoholic drink had always been an ice-cold brew or even a shot of tequila after closing a case. Yet Jane had never chided her about it, nor was he condescending or pretentious when sharing his cultivated tastes with her. He simply wanted her to enjoy the experience each time he introduced something new to her. He was her Professor Higgins and she his Eliza Doolittle.
The waiter poured Jane's glass first and then one for Lisbon. She was eager to taste the vintage as much as Jane was eager for her to do so.
"Hmm, this is good," she replied, daintily putting down her glass.
"Would you care to order now, sir?"
"May I?" Jane asked politely, his sparkling blue-green eyes looking at Lisbon for approval.
"To begin with I'll have the insalata fantasia al caprino and the calamari del mediterraneo alla grilia con arugula olio extra vergine. For my entrée I would like the pesce del giorno arrosto o alla griglia."
"Excellent choices, sir. And for your wife?"
Lisbon's head snapped up from her menu.
Without missing a beat, Jane replied, "For starters she'll have the insalata della casa and calamari e zucchine fritti…and for an entrée," he said, perusing the menu carefully, "linguine alle vongole veraci."
There was another slight bow from the waiter and another round of "Excellent choices, sir."
"Your Italian is beautiful, but what did you order?" Lisbon asked sheepishly, as her cheeks turned a light shade of crimson.
"I'm having the arugula, endive, radicchio salad with goat cheese and Balsamic vinaigrette and the grilled squid to start and then for dinner, I'm having the catch of the day."
"And me?"
"Oh, I ordered you a cheeseburger, fries and coleslaw," Jane said matter-of-factly.
"Jane! You didn't!" Lisbon squealed, ready to reach out and punch him.
Jane's eyes danced with mischief. "No! I didn't order you a cheeseburger. You, Mrs. Smith," he said, using Lisbon's mundane undercover name, "are having the house salad, fried zucchini and squid for starters, and for dinner I ordered you linguini and clam sauce."
"Sounds delicious," she replied with approval.
"Yes, it does."
"So, Mr. Smith, do you come here often?"
"I've been here once before, but at the time there was nothing to celebrate. It was just another dinner at another restaurant," Jane replied, looking off into the distance, his eyes darkening as he tried to hide the pain of loneliness that had become his constant companion.
"Then we should come here again just for no reason at all!" Lisbon said affirmatively.
"You mean it?" Jane asked, the happiness obvious in his voice.
"Of course! We really should make every day we're alive a celebration, don't you think?"
"You have an excellent point, Lisbon…I mean…Mrs. Smith," he replied, not wanting to relinquish the married couple façade just quite yet.
"I thought so too."
There was an amicable silence between them as they drank their wine and ate bits of grilled Italian toast drizzled with olive oil and tomato bruschetta. Lisbon thought that life couldn't get better than it was at this very moment. Jane was thinking the very same thing. As if reading one another's thoughts, they each picked up their wine glasses for a toast.
"Here's to the best consultant in the CBI," Lisbon said, raising her glass with one hand and brushing the hair that had fallen across her face with the other.
Jane raised his glass to her and said, "Here's to the one who never lost faith."
Knowing exactly what he meant, Lisbon's smile turned into a little grimace as she bowed her head and sipped at her wine. As she raised her eyes from the glass, her gaze locked with his. All the walls that Jane had built around himself for so long had crumbled, and he now sat before her with a fragile vulnerability that was both heartbreaking and alluring.
Lisbon tenderly placed her hand on top of Jane's hand and said, "I believe in you." As she looked down at their hands, she suddenly realized that she hadn't taken off the diamond bridal set that she'd worn during the sting operation. She blushed and giggled, understanding now why the waiter had referred to her as Jane's wife and began to say something about how they must look like an "old married couple" when the waiter arrived at the table, bearing their Tuscan feast. Reluctantly, Lisbon withdrew her hand and reached for her linen serviette.
The sumptuous feast and the delicious wine had been the perfect ending of a perfect day. Although it was nearly midnight, and they both had been up for the better part of eighteen hours, neither felt tired, nor had they wanted to part with one another's company.
"Would you like to come to my place for a nightcap?" Lisbon asked with a bit of trepidation.
Jane pursed his lips, cleared his throat and thought about the offer. There was nothing more he enjoyed than his alone time with Lisbon, but he was afraid that he would do or say something inappropriate that would ruin the magic of this night.
"I really shouldn't. It's late," he finally managed to say.
"We have tomorrow off, so you can sleep in if I keep you up too late."
Jane couldn't argue with her logic. He paid the cheque and left the young waiter a generous tip before one could say, "Arrivederci."
Lisbon and Jane sat closely to one another during the cab ride without either acknowledging the obvious intimacy of this most comfortable act. Both were lost in their own little world, and it seemed like only minutes before the trip ended and they were at Lisbon's apartment.
Jane pulled out his wallet to pay the cabbie, but Lisbon protested. "Hey, you paid for dinner!"
"That's okay. You can get the tab next time," he said with optimism.
"Deal," Lisbon replied in agreement.
Always the perfect gentleman, Jane escorted Lisbon up the stoop of her modest apartment. As she wrestled with the reticent lock, he gently removed her hand from the door and jiggled the key. With a turn and a push, the door was opened. Jane allowed Lisbon to go through first and then followed close behind. After they were both inside, she placed the house key into the glass bowl that sat on the table next to the front door.
"How do you always do that?" she asked, constantly amazed at how Jane could manage to get inside any building with such ease. "You could have a real career in Breaking & Entering. It's a good thing for the citizens of California that you're part of the CBI."
"I'm a man of many talents," Jane replied.
"I dare say."
Jane made himself comfortable on the overstuffed sofa while Lisbon went to the kitchen where she put a pot of coffee on to brew and the kettle for his tea. "Too bad I don't have any espresso to complete our Italian accented evening."
"It's just as well. You know I prefer tea. Besides, espresso would keep us up half the night."
"Is that so bad?"
"No. Not at all, Mrs. Smith," came the soft voice from behind her. Jane slipped his arms tenderly around Lisbon's small waist then gently bent down and placed a soft kiss on her neck. Slowly, he breathed in the cinnamon fragrance that infused her long, dark hair.
Lisbon sighed and leaned her head against his. She had longed for Jane's touch, dreamt of it, but now as his sensuous lips feasted on her delicate skin, it was even more thrilling and even more seductive than she could ever have imagined. A small gasp escaped her lips as she turned to face him.
Jane's eyes blazed with a burning passion, but in those shimmering blue-green depths Lisbon also saw love, a love that was fierce and perfect and unashamed. He cupped her small face between his hands and tenderly placed a chaste kiss upon her lips. Waiting for her to rebuke him, he was somewhat surprised that Lisbon did not resist his advance. Slowly, he bent his head towards hers, but before he could kiss her again, Lisbon reached out and put one hand behind his head and entwined her slender fingers in his thick, blond curls. Pulling his face towards hers, Lisbon answered his chaste kiss with a passionate one of her own. Jane could not mistake the desire in this kiss, and he pulled her small body close, returning the kiss in kind.
"I…I," Jane stammered, as he tore his lips from hers.
"What, my love?" Lisbon asked tenderly, stroking his beard-stubbled cheek with the back of her hand.
Was he dreaming? Had he finally gone mad? Lisbon couldn't possibly have said what he thought she'd just said. It was impossible! She was his boss and fellow CBI team member, but she was also his closet friend and the only one in his life who really knew him, the only one who had never given up on him. Jane's head was spinning with confusion and ecstasy. She had called him love! He wasn't dreaming, and he wasn't drunk on fine Italian wine. Teresa Lisbon loved him!
Jane swallowed hard, trying to find the exact words to tell Lisbon that she was everything to him. She was his true north, his best friend, his love, his life, and his soul! "I don't want to pretend anymore."
Lisbon was confused. That wasn't what she'd expected Jane to say, not after that kiss! Had he been pretending to care about her all this time? She pulled away and turned her back to him.
"Pretend? What do you mean by that? Are you tired of pretending to be my friend, pretending that you care about me?" she asked harshly, the bitter tears beginning to form on her eyelashes. She wrapped her slender arms about herself to keep her small body from trembling out of control. She felt so stupid! How could she have misunderstood? She wasn't the con artist, the one who charmed and manipulated at every turn, Lisbon angrily thought then chided herself for thinking such a spiteful thing.
"Turn around," Jane said calmly.
Lisbon remained silent and steadfast.
He took her left hand in his and gently forced her to stand face-to-face with him. Well, it would have been face-to-face if they were the same height. As he held Lisbon's hand in his, Jane placed two fingers of his free hand beneath her chin and raised her head so that her eyes met his. Seeing the glistening tears now rolling down her cheeks, Jane's heart twinged with regret at the pain he had just caused. He'd hurt her, and he didn't even know how. One moment everything had been like a dream, and the next moment Lisbon was in tears.
"What did I say to hurt you so?" he asked, thumbing the tears from her face.
"You said that you didn't want to pretend anymore."
"No! I don't!"
Lisbon stared at Jane. He stared back. Without a word he took her hand, the one that bore the bridal set, in his once more then broke his silence and said, "I don't want us to be the pretend Mr. and Mrs. Smith any longer. I want us to be the real Mr. and Mrs. Jane." He kissed the rings Lisbon wore and then placed an affectionate kiss of betrothal upon her lips.
"Oh," Lisbon managed to whimper when the kiss had ended.
"I want you to wear my ring, and I want to wear yours. I love you, Teresa. Will you marry me? Be my wife in sickness and in health?"
"Jane…I…I love you too. Yes, of course, I'll marry you!" Lisbon said, as tears of happiness replaced the tears of pain.
"When?" he demanded.
"How's tomorrow morning?"
"It's already tomorrow morning," he replied, his logic never waning.
"So, it is," Lisbon said, kneeling to the floor.
Jane cocked his head then followed suit, groaning slightly as he knelt before her like an altar boy before a statue of St. Teresa. How he adored her!
Lisbon took both of Jane's hands in hers and said, "I, Teresa, take thee, Patrick, to be my husband, to love and to cherish all the days of my life."
Now tears welled up in Jane's eyes as he took the bridal set that Lisbon wore from off her slender finger. He kissed the rings and then separated them. "I, Patrick, take thee, Teresa, to be my wife, to love and to cherish all the days of my life," he said, placing the wedding band and then the engagement ring onto her finger once again.
Their vows were sealed with a kiss, and tears of immeasurable joy now streamed unabashedly from both their eyes, mingling upon their cheeks in a communion of love and fidelity and trust.
Lisbon stood and offered her hand to her new husband. He took it and stood up, his masculine form tall and strong before his diminutive wife.
"It's late. It's time to go to bed," she purred.
"Anything you say, Mrs. Jane," Patrick replied, as he effortlessly swept Lisbon into his arms and carried her to their marriage bed.
"Mrs. Jane," she whispered into his ear. "I like the sound of that."
"Lisbon?"
"So, it's back to Lisbon, is it?" she responded playfully.
"Marry me, Teresa Lisbon. Be my love, my partner, and my wife. Marry me for real this coming Monday at City Hall."
"I've been all those things for a long time now, Patrick. There's never been anyone but you."
"We have to do it by the book…for real, Lisbon. I mean…Teresa…Mrs. Jane!" Patrick stammered.
"It's always been real for me. We'll just make it official," Teresa said, beckoning Patrick into her arms.
He couldn't help but flash that winning boyish smile of his as he thought of Teresa truly becoming his wife. He kissed her passionately and whispered, "Now, about our honeymoon."