Disclaimer: I'm writing this for fun, not profit!
Author's Note: I know the season 6 promo has been done, and very well too. But I've been wrestling with writer's block and this is the only half-decent thing I've managed to finish. Obviously I'm guessing at what happens so I figured it was either post this before the premiere or trash it. So I hope you enjoy it!
When all the hoopla was over and the bullpen went back to being office space instead of a crime scene, it was late. Lisbon stifled a yawn, nearly elbowing Jane in the process. He hadn't been out of arm's reach since he'd told her Red John had her phone, though he'd said almost nothing after that initial emotional confession. She knew that later on, she'd replay it in her mind, trying to identify the precise mix of feelings that had chased each other across his face and roughened his voice, the shades of meaning that his arms tightening around her might have, the delicious way his open mouth gasping against her cheek had felt almost like a kiss. But right now, she just wanted to go home, have a beer, and crawl into bed.
She needed to make sure Jane would be all right first, though. It always meant trouble when he got quiet. She turned to get a better look at him, unsurprised to find him staring blankly at the wall. He was obviously exhausted, the lines in his face deeper than before.
"Hey," she said softly. She waited until he focused on her face before she continued. "Don't stay here tonight. Go back to your motel room. Or better yet, get a new one, somewhere you haven't been before."
He shook his head. "It's not me he's after."
"Still. I'll sleep better if I know you're somewhere he doesn't know about."
"Then where are you going?" He frowned at her, and she knew he already knew and was preparing his campaign to change her mind.
"Home." It was more of a challenge than an answer.
"Then I'm going with you."
Sometimes Lisbon wondered what it would be like to be able to say the most outrageous things as if they made perfect sense. "No, you're not."
"Yes, I am. Even if I have to sit in my car and watch your door all night. Because your apartment is most certainly less safe than my attic."
"Jane, you need to get some sleep."
"And the only way I can do that is if I know you're safe."
She sighed, but the stubborn set of his jaw told her there was no chance of making him see reason. He'd had a bad scare, and even though he'd been furious with her earlier, Red John's gambit had driven everything else out of his mind. Which might have been the point. "You don't think he expects that? What if this is a misdirect, Jane? Maybe he just wanted to throw you off your game."
He shook his head, staring off into space again. "He wanted me to know what the stakes are. To give me a warning. Because knowing what's coming is so much worse." He swallowed, then whispered, "It's unbearable."
"That's what he wants you to think, Jane. But it's not true. He's not going to get me." She hoped she sounded more confident than she felt.
"Not if I can help it," he agreed, looking at her again.
She sighed. He wasn't going to be rational about this; he never was when it came to Red John. "Fine. You can sleep on my couch. But just for tonight."
"It's not safe, Lisbon. The warning means he's coming for you. Soon. He'd love nothing better than to wait for me to fall asleep, creep past me or drug me, and let me wake up to discover that he cut you up while I was right downstairs."
Okay, now neither of them was going to get to sleep tonight. "Then what's your plan?"
He frowned in thought. "We stay together. Somewhere random, someplace he won't expect. I thought of a suite at the Grand, so he'll be anticipating that. You want to either go home or stay here, which he'll also be anticipating."
"So what do you want to do? Throw darts at a map and hole up in the closest motel?"
"Not a bad idea."
"Jane, I just want to go home." She was getting close to whining, but really, after the day she'd had, was it any wonder?
He put a hand on her shoulder and steered her toward the elevator. "Room service is on me, Lisbon."
mmm
The bored clerk at the nondescript family hotel Jane finally identified as nowhere either of them would ever willingly choose to stay perked up when she got a look at his dazzling smile, ignoring his generally scruffy air and Lisbon's slump of resignation. Soon he had wheedled his way into the best room in the place, and a few minutes later they were standing in it staring at the two king sized beds.
"I'll take the one nearest the door, since I've got a gun," Lisbon said, yawning again. She decided to skip her nighttime routine, kick off her shoes and take off her jacket, and just crawl into bed in her clothes. It seemed like a logical thing to do if one expected a serial killer to drop by.
"I'll take first watch," Jane replied, switching on the lamp over his bed and taking off his jacket and vest. Then he sat down on the bed, swinging his legs up and sitting against the headboard, digging his latest book out of his bag.
"Fine." Lisbon turned on her side away from him.
"Sweet dreams, Lisbon," he replied, not taking his gaze from his book.
She closed her eyes, checked that her gun was tucked under the edge of her pillow, and tried to relax.
mmm
She must have drifted off, because when she opened her eyes again, the room was dark except for the security light shining around the edges of the curtain, and Jane was snuggled up behind her, one arm draped over her waist. He was snoring lightly in her ear, which was probably what had woken her.
She gave herself a few moments to enjoy the closeness before rolling over and pushing at his chest. "Jane," she whispered. "Go back to your own bed."
He groaned and used the arm at her waist to pull her closer. "Jus' go back to sleep," he murmured, moving his hand up and down her back to soothe her.
She wasn't sure if he was awake or if he realized who she was. But regardless, she needed to put a stop to this. She scooted back, reaching behind her to loosen Jane's grip on her shirt and ignoring the unhappy noises he was making as he tried to hang on to her.
When she finally managed to get out of bed, she switched on the light, causing Jane to throw an arm over his eyes with a theatrical moan. "Lisbon," he protested.
"Go back to your own bed, Jane," she said, pleased that her voice didn't betray her conflicted feelings.
He rolled over into the space she'd been in, burying his face in the pillow. "But it's so much nicer here," he said, his voice muffled by the pillow. "It's warm and it smells good."
"Fine. I'll take the other bed." There were worse things than a pillow that smelled like Jane, after all.
"Lisbon," he said, lifting his head so he could speak clearly, "I didn't sleepwalk over here. The only way I could get any rest was if I could feel that you were still breathing. I can't do that from six feet away."
She folded her arms. "And I can't sleep with you wrapped around me like a boa constrictor."
He grimaced. "A boa constrictor, Lisbon? You couldn't have said koala or orangutan, something a little more cuddly? Or at least warm blooded?"
"So not the point, Jane."
He sat up, his frown deepening. "Maybe it is. Subconsciously you think of me as a threat, something that is slowly impeding your ability to breathe before eating you alive."
She rolled her eyes. "The only person who's threatening me is Red John. I need to get some sleep so I can stay alert, and you are interfering with that. At this rate, I'd be better off at home."
He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Obviously a compromise is called for. What if I promise to stay on the far side of the bed if you let me keep a finger on your wrist? That way I'll know your heart is beating and you won't feel suffocated."
Her irritation faded as she looked at his weary but hopeful expression. No one had ever needed to know she was still alive this desperately. But then she'd never been close to someone who'd lost as much and carried as much guilt as Jane.
"Please, Teresa," he said softly. "For twenty-seven minutes today, I lived with your death. And I spent every one of those minutes hating myself for all the things I never told you, things I was too afraid to face. I can't survive that again."
She sighed, wondering what he'd say if she suggested he just tell her some of those things. That probably wouldn't achieve her goal of getting back to sleep, though. "Jane, if by some chance Red John does get me, it will not be your fault. You are not responsible for his actions. You are only responsible for your own. And I don't want you to think that I think you're sucking all the air out of my life. I don't regret bringing you onto my team, okay? I'm glad we met. It makes me happy to remember all the bad guys we've caught. And we've had some fun together over the years. If I die, that's what I'd want you to remember." She blinked hard and swallowed against the rush of despair that threatened to choke her. "But I know you won't. Because nothing will ever be enough for you until he's dead. And nothing I can do or say will change that. You think living though half an hour thinking I was dead is bad? Try ten years knowing you actually want to be dead or in prison because the only thing you will let yourself feel is guilt and hate, no matter what that does to the people around you."
"That is not true," he replied sharply, sliding off the bed and coming over to face her. He stood half a step too close, no doubt on purpose. "In the beginning, yes, I was fine with dying if I could just kill him first. But now I very much want to outlive him as a free man. Free of him, free of my past. I want to be able to look forward to the years ahead. I want to see you smile and not be afraid it might be for the last time. Because I do feel things besides guilt and hate. And that is because of you, Teresa."
They looked at each other for a moment, and she realized this was probably as close as he would let himself come to a declaration while Red John was a threat. And that was for the best, because they needed to focus on catching the killer. There would be time to work out the rest of it later, she hoped.
She stepped back and pointed to the far side of her bed. "Fine. You stay on your side of the bed and we both get some sleep. And if at any time you are tempted to trespass on my side again, remember, I have a gun."
He smiled, but it didn't quite reach his eyes, which were fixed on her with an intensity that was anything but restful. "I assure you, I will not forget that you are armed and dangerous. It will add immensely to my peace of mind, in fact."
He held her gaze for a moment more, then went to his side of the bed and sprawled on his back. Lisbon went back to her side, turned off the lamp, and laid down on her back as well.
"You promised me a wrist," Jane reminded her, and she felt his hand land in the middle of the bed.
She sighed louder than necessary and reached her own hand out. He circled his fingers around her wrist as if taking her pulse, but there was nothing clinical about his touch. In fact, she could swear he was stroking the inside of her wrist with the tips of his fingers.
She felt him moving and turned her head to look, her eyes adjusted to the low light again. He had turned on his side facing her and scooted closer, and after a moment he gently tugged at her hand and brought it to his lips. She couldn't contain a shiver as his lips brushed over the back of her fingers, then pressed on the inside of her wrist directly over her suddenly rapid pulse. She thought he might be whispering something, but she couldn't make out what.
This was not helping her get to sleep. She was now transfixed by how soft his lips were and the thought of how they would feel against hers. As he tucked her hand into his and held it against his cheek on the pillow, she was sorely tempted to stretch her fingers out and play with his curls, but she confined herself to a quick stroke of his cheek, fast and soft enough to be taken for accidental. It made him close his eyes, and she felt him smile.
She was suddenly struck by the thought that next time, she might be the one hating herself for all the things left unsaid. At least he'd told her he loved her, even though he'd claimed not to remember. She felt sure he had read her feelings long ago, but she knew she would regret never telling him if she never had another chance. And here in the dark, his skin warm and stubbly under her hand, she found the courage.
"I love you," she whispered.
He pressed a kiss into the palm of her hand. "I know."
She rolled to her side so she could look at him better, but he kept his eyes closed, pretending to sleep. After a few moments, he murmured, "Go to sleep, Teresa."
"I'm trying," she whispered.
He chuckled drowsily, eyes still closed. "If you hadn't threatened to shoot me, I'd come over there and give you that kiss you're thinking about."
She could feel herself blushing and was grateful to be spared his scrutiny, although he was probably reading everything he needed to know from her pulse. She wondered if he was also thinking of throwing caution to the wind and doing more than kissing. What would it hurt to snatch one night of happiness out of the horror Red John was creating around them? The idea made her breath catch, but "I know" wasn't exactly "Great, let's have wild screaming sex all night!"
"You expect me to believe that if you really wanted to kiss me, you'd let a little thing like a gun stop you?" She still had no idea what exactly his "love you" had meant, after all.
"Kissing would lead to snuggling, which you have already made clear is unacceptable," he replied, sounding amused. "Unless you'd care to revise your previous rules."
"Since when do you follow rules?" she grumbled.
"Hm." He nuzzled her hand. "I think I see the problem here. You want me to overcome some token resistance in order to prove my sincerity, but as a gentleman I feel bound to respect your expressed boundaries regarding your person. It seems, my dear, that we are at an impasse."
"And you think you're the smart one," she scoffed. "Can't you think of any other ways to assure me of your sincerity?"
"Ah. Let me see." He began kissing her fingertips leisurely. "Perhaps if I told you that you're the single source of light in the darkness of my life? That some days the only reason I drag myself out of bed is to see your smile? That when I'm about to take a calculated risk, the voice in my head arguing for prudence is yours? That when I despair from all the evil and banality in the world, one look in your honest eyes gives me hope again?" Having made her fingers tingle with his kisses, he moved to her palm, then the inside of her wrist, before working his way along her arm. "That when he answered your phone, my heart stopped beating? That for 27 minutes today I was dead inside?"
"Jane," she said, tears coming to her eyes.
His voice had grown softer, until she could barely hear him. "That you are more important to me than any of the things I promised myself? That if he would let me, I'd walk away, run off with you to a beach town somewhere and open a tea shop while you ran for sheriff?"
"Getting him is important to me too," she whispered. "I want him to pay for what he's done. Not just to the people he killed, but to you." She slid closer so he could reach her shoulder, sighing in pleasure as he kissed his way up her neck.
He teased her with soft kisses to her cheek, then the edges of her mouth, before gently pressing his lips against hers. She hummed in approval, reaching out with her tongue to meet his, and everything else faded from her mind as they explored each other. There was no urgency to his kissing, as if he was content to learn every detail of her mouth with no expectation of more. As much as she was enjoying this, she was very definitely hoping for more, so she moved her lower body closer to him and threw a leg over his hip to bring them into contact, delighted by his heat and the groan she drew from him.
"Before you get too excited," he murmured against her lips, "I have to tell you that I haven't kept a condom in my wallet since I was a teenager."
Crap, she thought. She didn't make a habit of carrying one around, either. "I'm on the pill," she said tentatively.
"I know," he replied, pausing to suck on her earlobe. "But that doesn't protect you from all the other nasty things that can happen."
"Do you have any of those things?" She would never, ever consider this with anyone else, but surely Jane, with his monkish sexual history, was an acceptable risk? God, she wanted him so badly she might not be thinking straight.
"No," he said. "I was careful before I got married and faithful after." He tucked his face against her neck and let out a sigh. "And I was careful with Lorelei."
The name gave her a pang, as it always did. She tried to conceal it, but Jane must have felt something change, because he lifted his head to kiss her again. "It was only once," he whispered. "And only to convince him I'd really given up. It meant nothing."
The sex might not have, but Lorelei herself had. Still, she was dead now, and Lisbon was glad to know they hadn't rekindled their sexual relationship after Lorelei's escape from prison. She'd always wondered but never felt she had the right to ask. "I trust you," she whispered, hoping that answered any questions he might have.
"You can," he said, pulling back to look at her. "I'd never risk you, Teresa. Not for anything."
"I know." That was, after all, how they'd ended up here.
He stroked her hair, tucking a strand behind her ear. "You are the best thing in my life, and you have been for years now. There's nothing I want more than to be with you. But if you're not certain, I will be content with knowing you love me. That is much more than I ever had the right to expect."
She smiled. "Are you kidding? I've been keeping my hands off you for years. I'm not waiting another minute."
He grinned. "I was hoping you'd say that." He began unbuttoning her blouse, bending to kiss each inch of skin he exposed. After a minute, she realized this would go much faster if she got to work on his shirt, so she did. Soon they were naked in each other's arms, but Jane was still hesitating. She held on to her patience despite her body's fevered aching, asking breathlessly, "What's wrong?"
Jane rested his forehead against hers, panting a little. "I really want to impress you, but I'm lamentably out of practice. I'm afraid it may take me awhile to work up to my old standards."
She shuddered as she thought about how high Jane's standards usually were. "We can call this a practice round, then." She kissed him in encouragement, then added, "It's been a while for me too, you know. I promise to keep my expectations low."
"Well, that's encouraging," he said sarcastically, but he kissed her to show he wasn't really upset. "But I think I can do a little better than that."
"Prove it then," she breathed.
So he did.
mmm
The next morning, Jane was still sleeping when Lisbon woke at her normal time, so she slid carefully out of his embrace and headed for the shower. He joined her before she finished washing her hair and proceeded to keep his promise that the sex would get better and better. Then they got dressed and packed up.
Lisbon was surprised to find herself a little sad to leave this hotel room she hadn't wanted in the first place. But it wasn't just a hotel room anymore; it was the place where she and Jane had finally come together.
He came up behind her, sweeping her hair aside to kiss her neck. "Ready to go? We have time to stop by Marie's."
"Yeah," she said, turning to face him. "Are you going to be okay today?"
His lips pressed together in a grim line. "I'll never be able to forget those 27 minutes. But if you keep in mind that we need to stay together, I'll be fine."
"And we need to act normally," she said. "So we don't give ourselves away."
"One look at you and he'll know, Teresa. But I don't think it will change his plans." He moved one hand to her face, stroking her cheekbone with his thumb. "I love you."
She smiled. "I love you too."
He kissed her lightly on the lips, then took her hand. "Then let's go catch a serial killer."