3 AM. Patrick Jane isn't himself. Or at least not the self he tries to be. His hair is unkempt and his eyes are wild. He's blazing down the road, dismissing all laws or street signs. There's loud music blaring on his radio, unlike the usual silence. But for right now, it's almost drowning out his only thought: Lisbon.
The all too recent, yet way too long ago chorus of slamming doors and loud voices swims through his mind, taunting him for his mistakes. He's not going to risk losing her again. He skids into her driveway, and watches as the light in her room flickers on.
He jumps out of the car and glances through the window to see a frightened brunette heading towards the door. His staggered walk comes to an abrupt pause, rethinking the whole idea of him coming here so late at night. But at the moment, he guessed he had already gotten too far to stop.
...
From inside her warm house, Teresa Lisbon notices who's car has just loudly appeared in her driveway. A deep sigh escapes her lips as her recently resting heartbeat seems to jump out of her chest.
She remembers their fight, and how she said some things to Jane that were arguably true, but not something he'd want to hear. She's told him he was a self-absorbed liar before, but this time, it seemed different. Even though he deserved her harsh words, his stubbornness, although irritating, was really a part of him that she loved dearly...
She makes her way to the front door, just waiting for him to knock. But he doesn't for a long time.
Until finally, three taps and a "Lisbon" are heard from outside of her door.
Deep breath. She turns the handle.
...
He opens his eyes into hers, and suddenly recalls everything he loves about the beautiful woman standing in front of him. Her gorgeous messy hair and shimmering green eyes seem to stop his words, but somehow he manages the strength to speak.
"This is the last time I'm asking you this," he says, his voice shaking. He's planned his words and intends to secure his spot in Lisbon's heart with them.
But there's no need for words.
...
She takes the disheveled blond man in her arms, closing her eyes tight, trying to pour every emotion she has into this moment. Neither of them are especially good at apologizing, so it seems that this will have to be enough.
"Last time," she whispers into his shoulder.
"Last."