Jane lies still on the couch. She murmurs 'next time', and his eyes never leave the ceiling.
*
Bosco goes to say something along the lines of I told you so, but sees her face, and he's not sure whether it's the look in her eyes or the memories of her bed that make him turn away without a word.
*
Minelli calls her into his office and she tells him they have more leads to follow. He tilts his head to the side and she holds his gaze. Same old game. He sighs and nods.
Same old game. He trusts her. There should be some comfort in that.
There isn't.
*
VanPelt and Rigsby are sleeping together, she knows, didn't need Jane to inform her, (but wishes he had all the same.)
Rigsby leans too close now; his lips brush VanPelt's cheek when he thinks she's not looking.
Five years ago, before Jane, she would have suspended them. Instead, she avoids the third floor stairwell at noon.
*
The radio only amplifies the silence between them. She shuts it off and half expects him to switch it back on. He stares out of the window and she barely hears him over the rain drumming on the windscreen.
You missed the turn.
She pulls over and checks the map. He fidgets for a moment, then; I'll walk.
Jane, it's raining- but he's already gone and Lisbon has never felt more alone.
*
More deaths. More cases. More faces on walls. More failures.
*
Next time, he says, before she's halfway across the bullpen. She nods dumbly, then grabs her coat and leaves him alone in the empty office.
Outside, street lamps illuminate the snow on the ground. Her breath hangs in clouds by her face. As she reaches her car she hears his footsteps behind her.
It's late, she begins, and then feels his arms curl around her waist, his lips at her throat. She'd ask him what he was doing but she doesn't want him to stop.
His lips trail upwards to her jaw then lead to her mouth. He kisses her. In the CBI parking lot. Protocol hisses in her ears, this is wrong, this is wrong, but he's kissing her and she's kissing him back.
*
When she wakes she finds an empty space beside her.
When she gets to work he doesn't meet her eyes. She doesn't really mind.
*
More murders. More cases. She doesn't look at the walls.
*
The sun sets and she lets the team leave early, sits next to him on the couch, goes to speak then changes her mind. The office clears out slowly and silence falls uncomfortably.
The leather sticks to her thighs as he pushes her down and she pulls him closer.
*
She slips in the slush as they cross the parking lot. He pulls her up, brushes off the back of her coat and holds her hand the whole way to his car.
He shows her his home. Shows her the room. She retches slightly when she sees the blood stains and he pretends not to notice.
Later as she lies on the mattress, his arm slung low across her hip, she shivers and moves closer to him.
*
Bosco leaves and Minelli raises an eyebrow at her case reports but never says a word.
*
He presses her against the wall, I think I love you.
His hand slips down her thigh and he lifts her upwards. Her ankles lock behind
his back and he grunts into her neck as she twists her fingers into his hair.
(I think is not I know.)
*
Lisbon, his breath crackles on the line.
She wonders briefly what her first name would sound like on his lips.
Lisbon, I found him. I found him Lisbon! There's elation in his voice and dread grows thick in her stomach.
*
He kills. She cuffs. ( It's all the the wrist, he'd said.) She doesn't look at him when he says her name softly, just turns and walks a few paces away. Almost smiles when she hears him drive away.
He kills. She cuffs. She lets him go.
She thinks she was in love with him.
(I think is not I know.)
*
One last face on a wall.
She scrubs at it until her hands are raw, then curls up on the mattress. Without him it's cold.
She doesn't allow herself to cry.
fin.