Enjoy the silence

He had never assumed that his hunt for Red John was going to end with the clichéd and they lived happily ever after. He didn't believe there would be any ever after in the first place.

Then the unthinkable happened. A joint chase through the Mojave Desert – the CBI and the FBI both willing to cooperate for once – leading to a car crash.

Red John is dead and gone. And it's for real this time.

The following couple of weeks are just a blur. He dimly recalls spending his hours lying on his brown leather couch, desperately trying to unravel his thoughts. Half afraid that, if he makes a single false move, the world around him will shatter into a thousand of pieces – like one of those crystal goblets when it falls to the ground.

It's in the dead of the night – a night just like the ones before, except that he's suddenly tired of waiting – that he gets up and finally leaves the bullpen.

He drives around for hours until he finds himself pulling over in front of Lisbon's condo.

The dawn is just breaking, all things wrapped in grey and almost unreal in the dim light.

It takes her a few minutes to come to the door. Her hair is tousled, her eyes full of sleep.

He offers her an apologetic smile, steps inside and shuts the door behind himself.

All of a sudden she's aware that something big is going on. She just can't guess what this something might actually be.

That's when he places a hand on her cheek – his thumb gently lifting her chin. His searching gaze meets her own and holds it for a long time.

She doesn't flinch under his intent stare. She simply returns it, and marvels at what she finds there.

For the first time since they met, Jane his laying bare his soul. It's all in his eyes, and he lets her see it.

They just look at each other and understand. No need for words.

Words are open to misinterpretation, while their eyes are not.

Slowly his thumb slides from her chin to rest on her lower lip. It's the most intimate gesture she has ever received from him, and she's unable to suppress the shiver that runs down her spine.

Without a second thought, she tilts her head and brushes her lips on his fingertip.

His gasp is so soft that she hardly hears it.

Slowly his free hand wraps around her waist. He doesn't break eye contact even for a moment – has to be sure whether she's okay with that or not.

She rests her head on his chest and slides her arms around him.

There will be a time for kissing, a time for sweet nothings to be whispered fondly in each other's ear. Now they content themselves with holding each other – his hand drawing circles on the small of her back.

Comforting closeness and understanding silence are more than they've ever dared to ask for anyway. All the rest would come in due time.