Sequel to 'How to Survive' and 'How to Become a Better Person'. From now on these one shots will be mostly J/L (I can't help it =P). Thanks to every one that reviewed/alerted the last stories and had me on Author Alert.
How To Make Her Love You
I sit up straight on my couch as the realization strikes me.
I think I'm jealous.
I'm not sure because I've never been the jealous type. Ever. And I've never been jealous of her. I'm sure of it.
I mean, last year, when Walter Mashburn with his super sport car was trying to hit on her, I was just amused! Really!! And I wasn't even jealous of Bosco when I realized they had a past… (I mean, I simply didn't like him, but it had nothing to do with her…).
So what's different now?
Besides Red John's death, of course.
And besides the fact that I knew Mr. Rich didn't stand a chance with Lisbon. Nor the very married Bosco.
And besides the fact that I'm trying to be a better person and she barely acknowledged it (how frustrating is that?). She did tell me that she knew what I was trying to do and that I was doing fine, but maybe I was mistaken, maybe I wanted her to mean something, instead she meant something else. Or nothing altogether. I don't know. I'm not sure of anything lately. And I've never been used to being confused.
Maybe what worries me is that I feel like my useful insights aren't so useful anymore. I can't even seem to be able to get a read at Lisbon, and she's like the closest person I have. And the team barely needed my help these last few cases…
But if that was the case I'd have just less of a leverage on the team or the CBI, and that's not what leaves me unsettled. The thought of being kicked out of the CBI isn't nearly as disturbing as the thought of someone else making Lisbon laugh.
What's wrong with me?
To make things even more awful, I think the others noticed something. Today the door of Lisbon's office was open, and we heard her laugh on the phone to someone. I was shocked, but I noticed the look the others were throwing at me. Like they knew something I wasn't aware of.
I don't feel like the smartest person in the room anymore, and that's kind of... strange. I never particularly liked being outsmarted, but this is different. This is not one single person managing to trick me. This is me loosing my abilities, loosing the only thing that makes me who I am.
I think I'm going crazy and I don't know how to stop the process.
I spent all my life tricking others, and now I can't even figure out what's wrong with me, as hard as I try. Maybe I should just take a nap and hope everything will be back to normal when I wake up. Except I don't know what 'normal' is anymore. There is no more 'normal' for me.
Normal used to be my old life, when I still had a family, then normal became my life at the CBI, waiting for clues about Red John to have my revenge.
Red John died three months, two weeks and five days ago, and still I'm very far from having a new kind of normalcy. Whenever I feel like I'm close to it, something happens, and I'm back at square one.
Maybe I should just talk to her about what's happening to me.
Three months ago I was going on and on about how good it was to know that she knew me, so I could give it a try. I felt so hopeful then... kind of giddy. I'd like to have that feeling back.
Before I can change my mind I get up, walk to the door of her office and knock.
I knocked.
I never knock on her door, that means she'll knew straight away that something is wrong.
Well, isn't that the point of talking to her?
She waves me to come in, but she's still on the phone. Smiling. And I don't like the feeling that stirs within me. Is it jealousy? Is it uselessness? I wish I could have someone look into my head and tell me. But at the same time I know I'd hate it if someone even came close to trying.
Finally she hangs up and waves at me to sit down. "Sorry" she says with a little apologetic smile.
"Lisbon…" I start, but I'm not sure how should I say what I came in here to say. I'm not even sure what I wanted to say in the first place.
"What's wrong?" She asks, her usual straight to the point self.
I'm not sure if it makes things easier or harder for me.
"Well, actually that's why I'm here. I don't know if something is wrong."
A flicked pass through her eyes. "Do I need to worry?"
She's only half joking, because I know that she does worry about me, at least from time to time. Now the only thing I can do is looking up straight into her eyes and let her see me. Maybe she can give me a diagnosis I'm not able to formulate. To do that I need to be truthful, genuine. I know she's the only one that can really get me, but it's still difficult for me to open up, even with her. After years of practice at letting the others see just what you want them to see it becomes kind of a second nature.
"I have no idea. Why don't I explain what's happening and you tell me if something is wrong?"
She looks thoroughly confused (welcome to the club!), but she nods her agreement.
"Lately I feel weird. Not that I'm sick or anything. Physically I feel fine, but my mind is doing funny things. It started when Red John died. Or maybe when you talked to me two days later, I'm not sure. Anyway, from that moment …"
So I told her everything I felt, my thoughts and my intents. Especially how I struggled to regain some footing. Maybe if I had some sense of balance I'd know where I stand with her and I wouldn't have this weird feeling when she's laughing on the phone… it's ridiculous!
Anyway, when my speech ends and I look up at her, she appears amused.
God bless her, she's amused! I'd feel insulted, if I didn't love so much to see her smile. Even when she's making fun of me.
Should I tell her that too?
I settle for a half truth. "What's so funny? Are you laughing on my account? Should I be offended?"
She just laughs harder. "Sorry, it's just…" she wipes her eyes with her sleeve "it's just… YOU, offended because someone is making fun of you is highly ironic." Okay, I have to give her that. And she is trying to recompose herself to give me a serious answer, so I think I'll forgive her for laughing. "Besides, about what you said, I can only say: welcome among normal people!"
Normal? My mind is messing with me and she thinks I'm normal for that? I don't understand…
"What do you mean?"
"I mean that what you told me, what's confusing you so much, is what happens everyday to the average person! Normal people don't know for sure if someone else is telling them the truth, if a certain attitude means something or something else entirely and so on. Especially if it has something to do with love life. Ever heard of Bridget Jones?"
I'm surprised she even knows who Bridget Jones is. She didn't strike me for that kind of girl… but she's a constant surprise, even to me. And that's probably why I've liked her from the day we met.
"Now you're telling me that I'm being Bridget Jones?"
"No. You are far from average. You are still ahead of most people, You learned to understand who's in front of you and are good at it. I'm merely telling you that, when you started to consider someone else's feelings and the consequences of your actions, you discovered how things can go terribly wrong even when you mean well. That is being normal. All you can do is try and do the best you can, sometimes it's enough, some other times it isn't."
I frown. I'm not sure if it's a good thing or not. I mean, I wanted to be more normal, but I never wanted to be this messed up. That was not the outcome I was hoping for. "Is it a good or a bad thing?"
"For you? I have no idea. For people you deal with, that's definitely good. For me, you thinking before acting would be a blessing."
She's still vaguely amused. She never really liked the fact that I could point out every lie she tells, so I can understand how this could put her in a good mood. Not to mention how much of her paperwork is due to my habit of 'acting before thinking', as she put it. However, I'm not sure I can be normal if it means not knowing where I stand most of the time.
"So it happens to mean good and still end up hurting someone?"
"All the time."
I stare at her. She's being helpful. Really. I might not have the solution for this problem yet, but I still need to think this through. One never knows… after a few hours on my beloved couch inspiration could strike…
Now there's the other thing that's bothering me, and I need to decide if I want to talk about it or not. She could be helpful with this other 'problem' too, but am I really about to go there? To talk about why I'm suddenly jealous of her? Would she even want to know? Would she care?
When I came in here the others were already gone home for the night, so we won't be bothered and there's no risk of someone witnessing the scene. The thing is, I don't know if it's fair to talk to her… about her. It's so confusing…
"What?" she asks, looking at me pretty much like she does when she's in the interrogation room.
I play dumb, obviously, even if I know it'd buy me just a few seconds. "What what?"
"There's something else that's bothering you, I can see it. Common, spill it."
Okay, she's definitely not leaving this alone, so it's either spilling the truth or finding an excuse.
Quickly.
"Well… there is something… but I'm not sure I should talk to you about it…"
"Why not?"
She doesn't have a clue, does she? She has no idea it's about her. I guess I did manage to hide that from her after all… And if I'm not mistaken she's actually disappointed at the thought that I don't want to talk about what's bothering me with her. As if I had someone else to talk to…
On this account I have to tell her. I don't want her to think that I trust someone else more than her. Which I obviously don't.
"Who were you talking to on the phone?"
Okay, I chose the long and twisty way to get to the problem. But I can't possibly say 'I'm jealous' out of the blue, can I?
"Does it matter?"
She's starting to get suspicious and, really, I can't blame her. I knew it would be hard… and I know that me being vague won't help, but I still need time to figure out what to say exactly.
"Kind of."
"Why?"
"Because I'm finding out that I… well… I might be jealous. Of you. I'm not sure." I feel like the high school boy I never was. I'm almost fiddling with the buttons of my vest. And staring at my feet.
"It's a joke, right?"
Hearing her disbelieving tone, I raise my gaze to her face to find her eyes widened. They're like twice their normal size. Does she really think I'd make fun of her like that?
Apparently she does.
"No, I can assure you! It's not that I want to be jealous, and I know I have no right to be, believe me. Probably it's not even a romantic kind of jealousy, but that's the only word I can think of to describe what I feel."
I expected her to have some reaction like laughing at me or try to reassure me or throwing me out of her office, but she does none of these things. She's just looking at me like she could actually read what I'm thinking. I do it all the time, but what she does is different. I use body language, signs of discomfort, pulses and voice to understand my opponent. Eyes not so much. It is possible, and probably even easier in some cases, but staring at someone's eyes could give the wrong impression, so I try not to dwell on it. It feels more intimate somehow. That's probably why I feel like I'm being turned inside out by her intense glare.
"What do you feel?"
With a pair of glasses she'd be perfect as a math professor. Or a shrink. Right now, the second option is more likely. I shrug. "Now you sound like a shrink."
"That was kind of the point of you coming to me in the first place, wasn't it? Figuring out your problems so you could solve them."
I'd be amused by this shrink-like phrase, if it wasn't for her expression. She isn't amused anymore. She cares. She really wants to help me. She always did want to help me.
"I know, but you know how much I hate psychiatrists… Anyhow… the thing is I'm really trying to be more… normal I guess, but I'm not used to normal feelings. These last months, or even years, riling you up, making you laugh or blush were more or less the highlights of my days. I know you probably didn't enjoy too much that kind of entertainment, but it succeeded in cheering me up. Somehow cheering you up cheered me up. Embarrassing Rigsby or VanPelt was almost too easy and not nearly as much satisfying. I'm used to making you laugh, or blush, or at least smile, and I've come to think of it as almost my duty. But seeing you laugh for something that didn't have to do with me made me feel… useless. More than you closing cases almost without my help. You don't need to tell me how pathetic that sounds, I know it by myself. I just wish you could tell me what has to be done."
I do not dare looking up to see her face, but I can feel her smiling. I'm pretty sure my confusion amuses her. Still her reply is a lot more serious than I expected and her voice is soft and attentive.
"It depends on what you really want"
What do I really want? That's a good question… "What do you mean?"
"What do you want? Do you want to come back to your old self, you want to go forward, you want to forget you felt that way… After figuring that out you can go from there…"
"I… I don't know. I told you I wanted to be more than the hollow man I was, but I never went beyond that. What can I want? Sometimes when I wake up I'm still surprised I'm alive and breathing…"
That's probably the most sincere thing I ever told her, and I feel exposed. And more than a little afraid. But I shouldn't be. I know that whatever I share, it's safe with her. I do trust her.
It's not the first time I come in here to talk to her, and still she's surprised every time I share something of myself. I should really try to be more open if I want her to return the favor…
"Look, I know what you feel. Kind of. I know the emptiness that takes you when what you've considered your duty in life is done and you have nothing to make up for it, nothing to fill the void."
I guess she's referring to when her brothers grew up. I never thought about it that way… I've always thought she was relieved when the responsibility was lifted from her shoulders, and she surely was, but she must have experienced a loss too. Why haven't I ever considered that aspect? As observant as I am, I'm still not very good in putting myself in other people's shoes.
"In my opinion the best thing you can do is starting to feel again. I appreciate you trying to be a better person, but maybe now you just need to experience again the simple things, like taking a walk barefoot on the beach, eating ice cream, looking at the sunset… Then you can figure out what you like and what you want. And go from there."
"Are you my life coach now?" I smirk, trying to lighten the mood.
I'm not sure what I'm feeling now, but, whatever it is, it's intense, almost overwhelming. I feel closer to her than I've ever felt to anyone in my life. This conversation is definitely different from the one I'd foreseen, but a lot better, in a way. Now I understand what it's like to have a friend. I guess it's one of those things you don't know you're missing until you find it. It's a good feeling.
"I can try. If you want me to. I could enjoy bossing you around, if you're willing to do what you're told, for a change."
She's smiling now, again. But this time it's a sweet smile, a smile that tells me that she's on my side, as long as I want her to be. That she is ready to help me, as much as I let her.
And I do want her to. I do want her to be beside me whatever happens. I want her to help me finding a new balance.
"That could be arranged. On one condition."
"What?"
"Will you do all those things with me? You know, ice cream, sunset and so on."
I'd feel stupid being on my own, and I can't imagine anyone else with me. Besides what's the point in seeing something great if you've got nothing to share it with?
"Wouldn't that be kind of… dating?"
I can see the words stumbled out of her mouth before she could catch them. She's lightly blushing at her own suggestion. She's cute when she's blushing. It might be the situation, but right now, seeing her like this, I can't think of a single reason why we shouldn't be dating. Unless, of course, she doesn't want to.
"Would you mind? Because that's absolutely not what I came in here for, but now that you mention it… I… I'd have no objections…"
Oh God… I'm acting like a nerd asking out the most popular cheerleader in high school… at least I guess that's what it must feel like, considering I've never been to high school. Nor I've been a nerd nor I asked out a cheerleader. I'm surprised she didn't flee yet. And I'm even more surprised I just compared myself to a high school boy for the second time in the same conversation. I guess she really gets to me.
She's still here, looking at me. She'd have every reason to throw me out, instead it looks like she's seriously considering it. I mean, I know she cares about me, but I'm not exactly the best dating material, and I didn't even ask her properly! Not that I remember very well what it's like to ask someone out… It's been a while. But I'm pretty sure 'Would you mind going out with me?' it's not the best way to do it.
"I think I wouldn't mind."
Now I'm the one wanting to flee. I'm not sure why though. Probably because I'm uncomfortable and I don't know what should I do. Is she really saying yes or she's saying she'd bear with me for the pleasure of bossing me around? I need some kind of come back.
"Well, not the most enthusiastic response…"
"It wasn't the most enthusiastic proposal either." She jokes.
Now I feel on safe ground again, what a relief! It wasn't just the joke, but the way her eyes twinkled when she said it. She is willing to put up with me.
"Touché. So, life coach, what would you suggest doing first?"
I could have suggested something myself, but I want her to be comfortable, so I'm letting her choose. Or maybe I'm just too freaked out to actually think of something to do with her. Not tonight anyway. I'm sure my head will start spinning as soon as I stop to think.
"How about some take out and then movies? There's a movie theater just around the corner and I haven't been there in ages…"
So that's it. This is a date. We have a date. I'm going on a date with Lisbon. I have a date with Lisbon.
Movie. Date. Lisbon. My brain is going on a loop.
"So… let's start by enjoying dinner with a fine lady and a movie then."
I offer her my arm (which she refuses) as we head to the kitchen, where I know the take out menus are, when I remember what started this whole conversation. Whom was she talking to on the phone?
"Ehm… Lisbon?"
"Yeah?" She mumbles while locking up her office.
"Who was on the phone earlier?"
I know, it sounds desperate. And it doesn't even matter now, not really. I mean, she just agreed to go out with me! Still it irks me that I have no idea of who might have been talking with her…
"Wouldn't you like to know…" She says rolling her eyes, and just now she takes the arm I had offered with a smirk.
This was almost done weeks ago, but I had some troubles with the ending. I'm still not so sure about it.
I'd like to know what you think.