This is my first writing effort in months! It feels good to write again. On the same day I wrote the first few paragraphs on my thesis – which is what's been keeping me away from fanfiction (I do intend to finish Under Red Covers, though, to those who might be wondering) –, I'm also able to write a new story, isn't that awesome? To me, at least. lol I hope it means the end of my writer's blocks for a long time.

It would be even better if you liked it, so I hope you do, and you let me know. ;)


ANOTHER SLEEPLESS NIGHT

Love you, he'd said.

I thought I hadn't heard right. I was going to ask him what he'd said, but then, we were in the middle of an act. Maybe he had said it just to get me to look shocked, in case somebody could see us – he had never really believed in my acting skills, and he was right, I must admit. I might not have looked that astounded just looking at his gun. Could he have really meant it? While he was gone I couldn't sleep, worrying about where he could be, what might be happening to him, God, if he was even still alive. Now I can't sleep, listening to those words in my head, over and over again, that look in his eyes, the way he squeezed me in his arms just before. Why had he said that? The son of a bitch has a gift for troubling my sleep. And I don't think he's really forgotten that he said it. "What did I say?" he asked, when I wanted to know what he'd meant, telling me he had been "hyped up". Maybe he was just being Jane and pushing my buttons, testing me if I'd have the guts to repeat his words. Maybe he even knew I wouldn't. How does he know me so well? But why do it, why push my buttons? He doesn't have to test me, I think he can see how I feel. I'm afraid everyone can. It took me a long time to realize it myself, but I guess you don't lose your sleep because of just any guy, right? Any damaged, obsessed, infuriating jerk you work with. He's back now, and we're still waiting to see who's going to be our new boss – I can't stand this anymore, just when you're getting used to one boss, something happens to them. Maybe Minelli should come back, somebody should tell him how the position's been damn cursed since he left. The day Jane came back it was like he hadn't even been gone; he's back to his attic, to his goddamn couch, or to mine, pretending nothing happened, always pretending nothing has ever happened. That everything that matters in the world is making me mad. I swear I didn't miss having him around annoying me all day. Well… maybe a little. We're back to solving every case we put our hands on – his skills seem to be better than ever, but I know he's focused on Lorelai and what she might say. I'm still sort of confused about what she said about them being lovers. He hasn't denied, then it's probably true, but why would he omit that detail? It was kind of important… I hope we get our hands on Red John this time. If she talks, we could get close. God knows how much this man needs closure, and after all we've been through, we all need closure. I need to see him get closure. No matter how bad a person he used to be when he was a con man, even though I don't believe he was ever as bad as he claims he was, the hell he's been through, he doesn't deserve that, nobody could deserve that. It's cold. That's how sleepless nights are; you feel cold, you get up, you get a blanket, you go back to bed, you have to go to the bathroom, you go, you come back, there's always something that you have to do and that just might be the thing that finally helps you fall asleep afterwards. I could use some coffee… Bad idea, I know, it would just make it that much harder to fall asleep but it's not like I am falling asleep anytime soon. The guys are still mad at Jane. I don't blame them. I was mad too, I was so mad. I guess just seeing that he was all right made that go away, though, of course, it's ridiculous; I can't even stay mad at him anymore now. No matter what he does. And that's dangerous, because he can always pull the worst stunt ever, and he knows I won't be mad. He has me wrapped around his finger… Wait, maybe that's why he said it… Just to make sure he'd maintain that control over me. Jane's a manipulator, and he manipulates me all right. That son of a bitch… Damn, I say that, but I feel warm inside when I think about him. When I remember him holding my hand on the side of the road. I feel so stupid, like a damn teenager. I have to focus on something else, stop thinking about him. Maybe if I watched something? Well, if daytime TV sucks, what's left for this late at night? Nothing good, of course. That movie? Again? I can't believe this… Does anybody even watch it?

My phone vibrates on the nightstand, and I jump. What could it be? Must be a dead body, what else at this hour? At least I wasn't asleep yet, I would've been so terribly mad. Patrick Jane. What could he want?

"Hello," I say, sitting up already, completely alert.

"You were awake," he states, without a doubt.

"What do you want?" I ask, trying to make him get it from my tone that it's not all right to call me at 3AM, it doesn't matter if I'm asleep or not.

"Ah, it's not important… I'll let you rest…"

Of course he'd be dramatic.

"I'm awake, and apparently so are you…" I say, softening my tone a little. I hope it was just a little… Damn, I must have even sounded sorry. "So tell me, what is it?"

"It's just that…" he sounds hesitant. But is he, really? Or does he just want me to think he is? "Remember when you asked me about what I said to you before I shot you? Well, good thing I didn't really shoot you…"

He laughs. My heart is suddenly as good as stalled and he is laughing.

"What about it?" I ask, and it might have been too soon and maybe a bit too anxiously. Damn it. Next time I'll have complete control over my reactions. At least he can't see the look on my face.

"Well…" he starts. "I just wanted to tell you that, whatever it was that I said… I really meant it."

I feel a silly smile forming on my face. Damn, why didn't he tell me this in person? I wish I could see his face right now. "I mean, I must have, right?" he says, laughing what seems like an embarrassed chuckle.

"I guess you must," I say, and I'm sure he can hear my smile. Surprisingly, I'm happy he can.

"Yeah," he says, and I think he's smiling too.

There's a moment of silence, but it's not awkward… Maybe I should tell him I mean the same thing? He knows that, I'm sure, but hearing it is different, I guess? Why don't I know what to do? I hate the way he makes me feel, damn bastard.

"All right, now, I'll let you sleep," he says, almost whispering.

"Jane," I call his name, to stop him from hanging up.

"What?" he asks.

I smile and take a deep breath.

"See you tomorrow. Get some sleep."

"I will," he says, and I hang up.

I hit my pillow like my head weighs a ton, feeling suddenly very tired, but I still have that stupid smile on my face.

So he was awake too… what was he thinking about?

I pull the blanket over me.

Certainly something that… that made him pick up the phone and call me.

I turn around to lie on my stomach.

To call me and say that…

Answering my questions.

I close my eyes.

Like he had read…

Like he had read my thoughts…

It feels good to have my eyes closed. I'll keep them closed just for a little longer. Then maybe I'll go make that coffee…

How the hell does he do it?

The bastard…

How in hell does he…

That son of…