If You Wait. . . You'll Probably Not Do Much of Anything
A Jane & Lisbon Story
By Brown Eyes Parker
Summary:
Can Jane convince Lisbon that if you wait, you'll miss out on so much? For the Paint it Red Ficathon, based on Tromana's prompt, "If you wait to do everything until you're sure it's right, than you'll probably not do much of anything".
Author's Note:
This was inspired by La Vie En Rose, by Louis Armstrong and a bunch of other old songs, like Someone Like You, by Van Morrison. So, it probably doesn't have much of a plot. . . it started out strong, but completely ran away with me. So, it's probably a huge mess. And just a warning, Lisbon is probably out of character in this story, the same with Jane. I know people don't like OOC, but sometimes I can't help it. . . and I'm really sorry for that.
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La Vie En Rose was playing in the background, and the moon was out. . . bathing the whole hotel ballroom in a flawless light. A blanket of fake stars covered the room, completing the effect. And somewhere near a replica of the Eiffel Tower, a would-be couple was having a heated discussion.
"Jane, we can't do this," Lisbon whispered. "Not here, not now. . . it's not the right time."
"You've been saying that for months," Jane grumbled. "You know that if you wait to do everything until you're sure it's right, you'll probably not do much of anything,"
Lisbon hesitated, eyeing Jane's outstretched hand with uncertainty. She knew by taking it, her life would never be the same again. This time, dancing with him would lead to crossing lines she wasn't entirely ready to cross. She just knew that it would, and she was pretty sure that he knew it too.
"Lisbon?" Jane asked, still holding his hand out to her.
"I-I-I can't," she said, glancing over at her date for the CBI Gala. But Walter Mashburn wasn't paying attention to her, he was chatting up a pretty Asian girl, ten years her junior.
"He doesn't care," Jane said. "I asked his permission."
Lisbon reached for his hand, and then pulled back just as quickly. She twisted her navy blue dress in her hands, and stared him down, almost daring him to press the issue further. Which, of course he did. But instead of doing it vocally, he grabbed her by the arm, pulled her out of her seat, and then dragged her to the dance floor.
"What are you doing exactly?" She demanded.
"Dancing with you," Jane replied as the band started to play Can't Take My Eyes Off of You by Frankie Valley and the Four Seasons.
"Jane. . ." Lisbon trailed off, knowing her protests would fall on deaf ears. Just like they had all night.
"I'm not taking no for an answer," he said. "If you wait to do everything—"
She closed his lips with her hand. "Don't even start with that again!"
"Is that a ultimatum?" Jane challenged.
"If it'll get you to shut up. . . yes," Lisbon answered.
"We need to talk though," Jane said.
"We'll talk later."
It would seem that silence wasn't Jane's strong point that evening though, because soon he was singing the song with the band, "You're just too good to be true. Can't take my eyes off of you, you'd be like Heaven to touch, I want to hold you so much. At long last love has arrived, and I thank God that I'm alive. You're just too good to be true, can't take my eyes off of you."
He stopped singing as he dipped Lisbon, and stared into her eyes. She tightened her grip on his hand and said, "I told you to be quiet."
He didn't answer her, instead he leaned down and kissed her tentatively. She sighed inwardly, this was exactly the line she had been thinking about seconds ago. Dancing had caused them to cross a line she wasn't quite ready to cross. . .
Who was she kidding? She knew it was just a matter of time before they crossed the thin line they had drawn on their first meeting. Jane, surprisingly, was just braver than her when it came to crossing it. So, throwing caution to the wind, she wrapped her free arm around Jane's shoulder and returned his kiss.
As soon as she did it, it was like every movie cliché in the world. The music stopped, the crowd disappeared, and it was like her and Jane were the only two people in the whole entire world. And then, somebody dropped something. . . bringing the moment to a close too soon.
He brought her back to standing position, her cheeks flushing a pretty shade of pink when he grinned at her.
"Well. . . say something," she said avoiding his eyes, as a million thoughts tumbled through her mind. What was she going to tell Mashburn? What would the team think? How would she explain it to Hightower and LaRouche? How would her brothers react?
"I can't," Jane replied, pulling her away from her frenzied thoughts.
"Patrick Jane, speechless?" Lisbon said, reaching out and wiping away some of her lipstick that had rubbed into the corner of his mouth.
"Don't gloat," Jane chided.
Lisbon smirked at him, a feeling of exhilaration ran through her whole entire body. For the first time in a long time, she felt as giddy as a teenager. Totally out of character for her, but she could get used to the feeling. "Well, if you're not going to say anything, then we better dance."
"A few minutes ago, I could barely get you out of your chair. You said that this was the wrong time, the wrong place," Jane said. "What changed your mind?"
She paused, thinking about her answer carefully before she shrugged. "I have no idea. Are you going to dance with me, or not?"
"Oh, I am going to dance with you," Jane answered.
"Good, because just standing on the dance floor and not doing anything looks kind of stupid," Lisbon said.
"You're really worried about something like looking stupid at a time like this?" Jane asked, brushing a stray curl from Lisbon's face.
"You're not?"
"I'm never worried about looking stupid," Jane answered as he took her back into his arms and started to dance with her. . . now that they had kissed, he seemed more subdued than he had at the beginning of the evening. They danced in silence for a couple of seconds after that, and then he said, "They'll all be happy for us. . . so, don't worry about it."
"What?" Lisbon asked.
"Mashburn, the team, Hightower. . . your brothers, they'll all be happy for us," Jane replied. "All of them will say. . . finally, or it's about time."
"You're sure?" She asked, still looking uncertain.
"Who are you talking to? Of course I'm sure!"
Lisbon looked at their boss, who was sipping a cocktail and chatting with the DA. "Even Hightower?"
"Even Hightower," Jane said. "Of course, we may have some trouble convincing LaRouche. . . he's so by the book, but he'll come around. And sooner than later—"
Lisbon leaned in and cut him off with a kiss. She smiled at him when she pulled away, searching for something to say. When she came up empty, she shrugged and cleared her throat.
Jane returned her smile, and pulled her closer. They would talk later, but for now. . . he was just content to have her in his arms, and to dance with her.
_The End_
