Disclaimer: seriosuly, do we really have to do it? Because, Jeez, if I'd own them, I'd not be here writing it, I'd be the writeer of a TV Shows and, well, we'd have the LIsbon romance for real... I just "write, draw, create, dream, hope and believe in Bruno, waiting for him to be blessed by the light of reason..." (No, this discalimer isn't mine, it belongs to one fo the girls who wite Mentalist fiction on the italian site efpfiction, but don't tell me many of you don't share this vision...)- I'm thinking about doing few vodoo on his as well, you don't know how things could work out...
Ook...by the way... written for the July Jello Forever Challenge, prompt lemonade (I'm a bit nervous right now since it's the first time I write for it...)
It had been a quiet day, no big cases to deal with, just a "little murder", as Jane put it, that he solved in something like 5 minutes, trying to seduce the man's widow, proving her to be guilty in the blink of an eye- as he had suspected since the first moment he had seen her. Lisbon had been furious, for many motives. He hadn't followed her orders, he had broken her trust in him once again, he had made her look like an incompetent… and the list could go on 'till the end of the universe. Cased closed, guilty arrested, confession written, she had stormed outside the CBI HQ, just saying "see you tomorrow" to her still working team, and without giving a glance to Jane, all taken by his couch.
That was when he understood she was made. She was leaving early. And Teresa Lisbon never left early- if not when she was dealing with Jane related "emotional" issues, as he called them.
"She is mad, you know – Grace told him still looking at her computer – you should think about doing something about it"
Without replying, knowing too well that Grace wasn't going to stop talking about it until he'd been forced to go after Lisbon, he left his spot, and did was the redhead had implied: chase after her. After all, Teresa Lisbon was translucent, so he knew where she could be: her place, the shooting range or the small bar/restaurant he went with her few times- even if, he would bet on it, he is almost sure it's at home he would find her.
Home is, in fact, where he found her; she wasn't happy to see him, even if he was making his best "I'm Patrick Jane, you can't resist me and can't be mad at me that long" smile/grin. After all, he had indeed ruined all her plans for the evening.
"Jane, what the hell do you want? Is that hard for you to understand that sometime I need time and space away from you?" Frustration was clearly visible in her voice, but she still didn't close the door in his face, like any other reasonable human being would have. She was quite sure there was no point- he was the kind of man who could keep ringing, phoning and knocking at the door 'till the end of time just to have his way. There was really no reason to keep him outside, where he could physically disturb her, better leave him in and pretending he wasn't there, concentrating on what she was doing early.
A smile, the genuine kind, appeared on his lips, as he mentally drunk into his surrounding; it's not the fact he was at Lisbon's, he had been there more than once after that time she asked him to hypnotize her, it's what was going on there in that moment; it was seeing Lisbon with her beloved Lisbon shirt, whit short so short that the t-shirt is longer than them, it's Lisbon, sat on the sofa, feet on the coffee table in front of her, looking at a movie , Gone with the wind , with a glass of lemonade in her hands. He wondered if she was acting so at easy with him because she was, really, at easy around him after almost 8 years of partnership/friendship, or if it was because she had pretended so well he wasn't there that she had forgotten he was indeed there in the first place.
"Are you coming here or what? Having you at my back makes me feel uncomfortable, more than usual" she kept looking at the screen, and didn't give a signal that could tell him if the implicit meaning of her words was "you are forgiven" or "I'd prefer if you could leave"; he nodded, more to himself, and, once removed the jacket and thrown it on a chair, he joined her on the couch. Lisbon kept looking at screen, while Jane couldn't find the strength to. He knew he was forgiven, forgiving him was what she did, after all, but that wasn't what troubled him the most. Unable to look at Rhett and Scarlett inability to let it work after the death of their beloved child, he found himself focused on Lisbon; he wondered why that felt so right, just staying in each other company, and why he felt, suddenly the sense of family, and the need of a sense of family, of that sense of family. If it's true that home is where the heart is, then, right then and there, that was his home. Jane tried his best to let it go of this thought, too scared of where it could let, of the dangerous waters it could bring them across, that, until she turned to look at him, a light shade of pink on her face and a biting of her own lips that revealed she was aware of his eyes on her. A single drop of the almost white liquid escapes her lips, making its way in direction of her chin; with his thumb, Jane removes it, and, Lisbon didn't know why, but as soon as the finger is on her lips, skimming over them, she kissed it, at closed eyes, almost moaning. Getting closer, Jane enjoyed the moment, keeping the finger there, closing his eyes, bringing his forehead against her own.
"Patrick…." she whispered, her lips parted enough to just say a word, her eyes still closed. It wasn't the first time she called him Patrick; she often did, especially when he was under stress, but never in this kind occasions, also because it's the first time they found themselves in this particular kind of occasion; suddenly, the waters seemed a way more dangerous than only a couple of minutes before.
And this was when it hit him, and epiphany, a moment of clarity. … He had never believed that people could see their life passing in front of them at light speed, but suddenly, it was what happened to him. He may still be alive, but his breath was dead in his throat, and Jane was sure his heart as stopped, as snapshots of the last few years appears on front of him, pictures that had only a constant: the two of them; he wasn't even aware he actually remembered few of those moments, but, then, maybe, just maybe, he was so relaxed there, in that position, with Lisbon practically in his arms, practically under him, that he had fallen into a deep trance without knowing it, or maybe it's just his mind playing little dirty games with him. He just smiled. It's not like he cared too much about it- the visions were too good to think about anything else.
He could still remember the origami frog he gave her on Grace's first week, her playful smile as it jumped in front of her, or the time he told her he didn't want to seduce her over food (even if he had, indeed, asked for an extremely romantic location), the time he brought her a white gold and emeralds necklace with the money he had won (he had never admitted he had given away just Grace's one, still keeping hers, putting it in a safe place for the right time to give it to her, and it seemed the right moment wasn't so distant any longer), the time he hold her hand while running under the rain, the time he touched her face, while he was blind, when he saw her first thing first as he regained his sense, the sense of relief she felt as he took her during the trust fall, the pony he took for her birthday, the tiara he'd like to take for her after seeing how good it looked on her, the time he had called her "darling", "baby" and said "I love you" while they were, sort of, undercover (and even back then there was a part of that wanted it to be real), the dance they shared while listening to her favorite song (and how they did fit together – she melt in him and vice versa, like they were meant to be) , driving her in a Ferrari, telling her to let it go, how he almost confessed her his "feelings" or whatever he felt at the time for her in that crate, or the flirtatious smiles, the wed couple bickering… he thought about how many times she seemed jealous, with him always flirting with so many women, even if, at the end of the day, it was always to her that his mind come back to, where his loyalty and fidelity stood (just once he had almost gone too far, with Kristina, before she run away, as they later found out, in Europe, to escape Red John, but he had dismissed the thought after he had remembered how she always played with people's emotions; besides, he didn't feel right, his first time after his wife with That woman; as much as a pathetic excuse of a human being he was, he deserved better, and, if he had to be completely and utterly honest, after a while he knew Lisbon, he had started to imagine his second "first time" with her).
"Patrick?" she repeated, although this time is a bit more than a whisper and it's a question; he opened his eyes, leaving his dream-state, noticing that Teresa's ones are open as well, telling him a story of affection, caring and, yes, he really hoped it was love as well what he saw.
Jane didn't answer with words, but he again got closer, and replaced his finger with his lips; he was a bit unsure, like it was the first time he did it. As sure as hell felt like it, because he has the idea that kissing Lisbon may be different form kissing any other woman, like she wasn't part of the same species, something more unique, the last exemplar. Cupping his face with her hands, Lisbon smiled in the kiss, giving him strength and courage, like an encouragement.
As the glass of lemonade she still had in her hands fell on the carpet, new images replaced the ones he was seeing earlier, but this time it's not the past he saw, it was the future; working together at the CBI, holding hands while grocery shopping, Teresa singing under the shower, humming and dancing while making breakfast, looking movies together on that sofa, painting their house, a simple wedding on a small chapel, babies with blonde curl, or dark haired, with blue eyes or green ones- or a mix, even better a mix, growing old together, making love under just the light of the moon, stealing kisses at the office, bringing her to dance, getting to see her with just emerald jewels…
As they finally parted for oxygen, she just bit her lips, looking at him with a smile that seemed to scream "I'm going to tempt you", without even noticing the mess her carpet is in. His answer was a quick peck on the lips, and a real, honest to god smile. He knew he wasn't forgiven yet, but he was quite sure he had all the time if the world to get her to forget his little stunt now, and from now on.