As Patrick Jane lay beside her, he thought of so many reasons why his love for her was wrong, but his heart answered each negative with a positive. The flower of her youth was long gone, but so was his. She could be especially boring the more time he spent with her, but at the same time she offered him a comfort he had rarely known. When she was cantankerous, she challenged even his patience and self-control.
Where moments before he had been ready to curse her out loud (and truth be told he had cursed her vexing ways in his mind), now Jane reached his hand to her. He caressed her side and sighed. He had come to know each bump and scar. Yet even though he had filled his memory palace with the imperfections of her body, he still glided his hand across her as if she were as smooth as a newborn baby. On sunny days, her personality could reflect the glorious brightness of the blue California skies, and more than once he found himself staring with appreciation.
Oh, people on the sly had pulled him aside to tell him that he had no business with her. His blood boiled with rage when that SacPD sergeant told him last week how he could do better. It worked both ways though. Jane couldn't help but also notice the admiring glances she got, especially at a crime scene crawling with law enforcement agents. Sometimes when she'd be surrounded by a knot of locals he would devise a way to disperse them in as rude a way as possible. He couldn't help it; she was his and he would do everything in his power to keep it that way. He had marked his territory and no one else could have her.
Jane ran his hand over her smooth back, tracing the graceful curves, appreciating every glorious, artful line until he ran a gentle fingertip to her distinctive nose. Today had started out so well with her – they had had two hours of perfection. Or was it ecstasy? On days like today, Jane was like an eager teenager, experiencing his first time all over again. Oh how he loved being with her, being inside her! But then things changed in the blink of an eye. Reality intruded, and now he lay next to her wondering how much longer they truly did have together.
The sound of a door opening roused Jane from his reverie. In front of him now was an irate woman, her right foot tapping loudly on the pavement, her arms crossed in suppressed rage, and her face contorted somewhere between a grimace and a sneer. Her green eyes flashed with anger as she made a show of displaying her watch.
"We're already 20 minutes late. How much longer is it gonna take you to change the tire on this old contraption of yours, Jane?" Lisbon asked.
Contraption! Jane patted the lovingly waxed and polished fender. "She doesn't mean that, my old girl. You're not a contraption."