Super FLUFFY Tag. Meh, I just needed a big junk of utter fluffiness. And here it is!

Disclaimer: if it WERE mine (what it isn't), I would at least make them TOUCH some times. And he still hasn't kissed her cheek, has he? See! Can't be mine, then!

It's All In Your Eyes- Tag for ep. 4x04

They took their tea on his couch. Lisbon smiled to herself. It almost felt as if he'd invited her into his house.

She didn't have to look at him to tell he was deep in thought.

"I can't believe he ran the test on you." she said softly, her smile blossoming into a grin.

"Well," he answered quietly "I can."

He didn't say it, but she could sense it. Somewhere, deep down in this fiercely protected, secluded soul of his, he hated the thought the new boss could be right.

"Wainwright is no fool," she stated calmly "he just didn't have the time to figure it out yet. He thinks he can look into you. Analyze you. Understand you. But he only sees what you want him to see. We all do, don't we?"

He smiled. An easy, gentle smile that warmed her heart. And he finally turned to look at her.

"What do you see?" he asked, his voice low and humming.

She watched him closely. Sometimes, his face looked as smooth and pure as a fifteen-year-old's. The very attractive lines on his skin eased away, his eyes seemed larger, wider. Their sparkling sea-green pierced the gloominess all around them.

He seldom touched her, it still didn't come easy for him. But whenever he took her hand for a second she was startled by the excruciating softness of his skin- it felt velvety, almost like a child's. As if despite all the pain etched into his features, into his very being, time stood still for Patrick Jane.

He had never touched his face. But now, she lifted her hand and cupped his jaw. Shuddering slightly when she felt the downy skin beneath his slight stubble.

Jane didn't need her answer, and she knew it. He could see into her very soul, and he was scared. Whenever she looked at him like this, he felt raw and vulnerable. It took all his strength to stop his mind from wandering. From imagining that it was likely that he looked at her in exactly the same way.

He smiled a silly little-boys-smile and averted his gaze. She lowered her hand on a slight, hardly discernible sigh.

They sat in silence for some moments before she put the tips of her fingers beneath his chin and exerted some pressure to make him face her again. She could see surprise in his eyes and a fierce glow that made her feel very warm all of a sudden.

"Psychopaths only feel superficially," she whispered, "what do you feel now?"

She saw his eyes soften until they almost shimmered with tears. His gaze slid over her face, before it focused on her mouth. He swallowed and returned to her eyes, and she saw his go wide and unveiled, clear like mountain lakes. The heat of the Santa Ana winds touched their surface. She watched his pupils dilate, almost swallowing the color around them.

She smiled.

"I thought so." She said calmly and took her fingers from his skin. He caught her hand immediately, his gaze never wavering from hers, he engulfed her small, fragile hand in his larger one. The warmth made her shudder. Her fingers had been cold and clammy the whole day.

"I should go now." She breathed.

"No." he said.

"I'm tired. And cold."

"I could warm you, Teresa," he whispered "you know that, my dear."

She sighed in frustration. She knew better than to get herself into situations like this. He could hurt her so easily, and hurt her so much she possibly wouldn't come out of it alive.

But she lowered her head and put it against his chest, clenching her eyes shut until she could see only blackness, allowing herself to drown in his warmth and the subtle hardness of his body. At least for a moment.

Jane closed his eyes, too. Heartfelt touches were still strange to him, even if he exchanged them with the person he trusted most. It took a while before he managed to put his arms around her, but it gave him deep pleasure when she snuggled closer against his body, her fingers gently straightening his collar. He smiled. Oh yes, she was a class A straightener when she was nervous. Her fingertips on his bare skin, against his throat felt wonderful, and for a moment he imagined they could be somewhere warm, meeting each other without the burden of their pasts, free to do what their hearts told them. He was sick of his past. Someday soon he would find this place of warmth and comfort. He would take her there, hiding her in his arms. And he would allow no one to take her from him.

Lisbon felt his hands driving into her hair, pulling the needles from her tight bun.

"You know what's best about this awful hairdo?" he whispered "When I've pulled every single needle out and released all this luscious hair from its prison, it will look mussed and disheveled and tousled. Just the kiss-swollen, red lips will be missing to complete the view."

She looked up at him just the second her hair came free. He realized he might have gone too far, but she just stared at him, her eyes so huge and green like jewels, her face framed by all that dark hair, wavy from being restrained the whole day. He softly blew some strands from her forehead and put a kiss there, producing a smacking, satisfying sound when his lips left her skin.

"Can I drive you home?" he asked with a smile.

She nodded, giving back his smile, but he found that he couldn't release her for a while, his hands driving through her hair while he nuzzled her ear, grazing the velvety skin beneath it with his lips. He felt something so deep he almost choked with the force of it, but his tight self-control prevented the worst. So he just took some comfort from touching her, knowing they both didn't dare to name what was between them right now. Someday soon.

She finally extricated herself from his arms and got up, pulling him with her.

He waited for her while she got her belongings, and took her hand as soon as she came back. The gesture felt soothing, natural.

They entered the lift and he noticed the graceful arch of her tiny, slender body when she leant against the wall of the cabin. He bowed down without thinking and kissed her lips, just a soft, short piece of contact, exchanging some warmth and a hint of sweetness that would be his undoing one day. They parted with a slight gasp.

"You know," he stated calmly, straightening "maybe I feel pretty much after all."

"Well," she answered, her voice hoarse, trembling slightly, but she was smiling like the sunshine itself, "that's a start."

The End

I know….it's sappy. But I always have to make them touch and kiss…an episode isn't truly FINISHED without this for me. Tell me if you liked it, PLEASE! I depend on your verdict. THANK YOU!