Title: Gold
Author: annaliesegrace
Rating: T
Summary: Set in season 7, just a moment between Jane and Lisbon.
AN: Born from a thought I had and shared on Tumblr (Tumblr name same as author name here), which then produced the most number of notes of any of my posts. So I figured I would…expand. Its short but hopefully you enjoy. Its my first foray into The Mentalist fic, so be kind and review. Thanks!
The sun had just started to rise, the golden light filtering through the blinds and gauzy curtains in the bedroom - revealing a soundly sleeping Teresa Lisbon curled onto her side. For a moment Jane just took her in from the doorway – he loved these moments, when he was able to observe her unseen. Thankfully, his insomnia ensured they happened often enough, primarily while she was sleeping.
It still amazed him that she was with him. Even six months after Miami, she hadn't tired of him and his insecurities and craziness; Saint Teresa was an apt nickname in his opinion.
It was all too tempting and despite the fact she had threatened him many times about waking her early on off days, Jane shed the cotton pants and t-shirt he wore around the house and slipped between the cool sheets behind her. Placing one hand gently on her shoulder he swept away the hair he found, lightly kissing the newly exposed soft, warm skin. Below him she started to squirm and sigh, caught between not wanting to wake up but at the same time unable to ignore his lips as they worked toward her neck.
"Jane," she warned into the pillow as one of his hands landed on her hip, fingers teasing the skin they found. "The sun is barely up. I think we've discussed this."
"Do you want me to stop?" he asked and sucked gently on the skin at her pulse point.
"No," she whispered and rolled onto her back, capturing his lips again, the heat between them rising quickly as it always did. Her arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer.
As his hand slipped between them her cell phone rang and Jane rested his head in the crook of her neck with a groan.
She shifted and grabbed the device off the night table, answering with a crisp, "Lisbon".
Unhappily, Jane moved away from her, watching as she held the phone with one hand while ensuring the sheet covered her breasts with the other. The temptation to just lean over and pull the sheet down was nearly overwhelming, but Jane restrained himself, he knew Lisbon was extremely serious about the separation between work and home. And if she was on the phone with work that meant no "shenanigans" as she'd kindly put it. Part of the "new Jane" was respecting her boundaries; though some moments were harder than others – like now.
"Yeah, got it. Yep, I'll bring Jane. See you in an hour." Then she hung up the phone and put it back, giving him a regretful look. "Sorry – I know we were supposed to be off."
He shrugged but kept the somewhat wounded look on his face. "Work calls."
A smile graced her face and she leaned toward him, kissing him deeply, a promise for later.
His left hand cupped her cheek as he returned the kiss. When she pulled away, her eyes darted to his hand.
"It's still weird," she said quietly, eyes locked on his now-bare ring finger.
Jane glanced at his hand as well as it dropped from her face and muttered, "Yeah." It had been weird for the first few months but now he was used to not feeling the weight. He kept the gold band in a small box put away in his Airstream, accessible but no longer a constant reminder of what he had lost.
It had come off the night they slept together for the first time – four long weeks after their return from Miami. As much as they both wanted to explore the physical aspect of their new relationship, Jane had steadfastly insisted on doing it the right way – he didn't want to skip steps with her. To him this was too important, she was too important.
So shortly after their return he had taken her out to dinner at an upscale steak place that she had raved about afterword (and paid for the next morning when the martinis she'd had caught up to her). Then there had been the opera (she nearly fell asleep); an LA Kings Stanley Cup game (he nearly fell asleep) and the long weekend to a spa in Palm Springs (separate rooms). It had been strange to Lisbon to go on what were essentially dates with a man she had known as well as you could know a person like Jane for nearly thirteen years.
Four weeks to the day after he had gotten on that plane and declared his love for her, he'd picked her up for a casual dinner and when he had taken her hand the ring was gone.
She didn't mention it; he didn't explain. There really wasn't any reason to; they both knew what it meant. And that night he had proven to her just how much she meant to him.
Now she smiled. "I love you."
Even after nearly half a year the words from her lips still sent a thrill through his body.
"I love you," he replied in kind, leaning in for a quick kiss before she darted off to the shower, her naked back exposed to him. It was quite a sight and he nearly got off the bed to follow her.
"No funny ideas, Jane!" she called out.
A smile cracked his face, she knew him so well.
Again he looked down at his left hand, maybe one day a new ring would grace it.
END