The sky is pitch black, probably midnight. A quirky blonde and no-nonsense brunette have been working a case all day, and the car swerves all over the highway.
"Don't you think I should drive for a while? You're gonna drive us off the road," Teresa Lisbon whispers sleepily.
"It's likely your driving won't be any better, Lisbon," Patrick Jane says, yawning.
She seems to agree with some inaudible mutters, and leans her head back again. The light reflects the cross chain on her neck, and although the heavy-eyed couple isn't aware of it, the scene is romantic in a quiet way.
One look. That's all it takes to remind her how much the man in the driver's seat adores her. He glances quickly over at her to make sure she's still awake. As expected, she's barely alert.
As she drifts closer to dreamland, Jane hears something seem to come from overhead and out of the car. The sound is all too familiar. He stops and pulls the car over, looking to his right to see a pair of emerald eyes, confused but still glittering in the darkness.
He gets out of the car.
"Jane, what are you-" the drowsy woman starts.
"Look up."
Above them, hundreds of stars seem to be falling from the sky.
"Meteor shower. Whoa..." Lisbon says.
"These happened a lot where I lived back in my carny days," Jane whispers to her.
His fingers entwine with hers and they're immobile for some time. No words, no proof, but she felt enough in this minuscule, yet tremendous moment.
...
They're back in the car, driving in infinite darkness until at last they arrive at Lisbon's house. The newness of their love settles in, eyes darting all around, wondering who's going to say goodbye first. But there are no goodbyes this time.
Jane pauses at the door, looks at the petit brunette next to him, then says, "You're my best friend." And she knew what it was.
As they collapsed into each other's arms, his unspoken words could be heard in the silence: he is in love.