Lisbon sat at her desk in the air conditioned FBI building, working on a lot of reports that needed to be filled. It´s been quite a dull day, with nothing much going on, which was good in a way. It meant nobody got killed or attacked the nation.

Lisbon glanced around her to see everyone occupied at their desks, catching up with their paper work. There was one person missing today. And it bothered her more then is should.

Jane.

He did not came to work.

He called in sick.

Jane calling in sick was as unbelievable as pigs flying. She knew the main reason for his home staying. Everybody knew. All they needed to do was take a look on the calendar. This day, two years ago, he strangled a man who killed his family.

Perhaps it was for the best if Jane stayed home, but she was kind of worried about the man. He was finally back from that island of his after almost two years long isolation, and he kept on isolating himself further. During the few weeks he´s been back, they haven´t got a single case together, not a single serious talk...or a normal talk for that matter.

She huffed in annoyance still looking at her computer screen but not doing anything. Her eyes were locked at the screen but her mind was lost somewhere else. Perhaps in a certain Airstream, talking to her best friend who just returned back to her life and swept her of her feet once again.

Cho was typing furiously on his keyboard, making and irritating noise thanks to her current state of mind. Someone´s phone rung loudly, doors were being open and closed, a mixture of noises penetrating her skull as she kept on starring through the imaginary Airstream window.

She huffed again.

And made a choice.


Abbott gave her a day off absolutely not buying her headache story. He could see through her in instant and she knew he could. A silent agreement took place in his office and she was out of there as quickly as possible.

Finally outside, facing the possibility of what she might do, all the resolve of seeing her friend dissolved in a fog of doubts.

A headache started forming in the back of her head.

Jane lied on his Airstream bed stretched on his back with hands entangled on chest when a knock on the door startled him. He remained still, not caring about the intruder at all. The only person whom he cared about was still at work and there was about 5% chance of her coming at all. Anybody else could go to hell for all he cared.

He closed his eyes and took a long breath in. As he tried to exhale it calmly, the intruder knocked again, this time with more ferocity than before. He huffed, much the same as Lisbon did at her computer screen before.

"Jane"? came a female voice from the door.

Jane, recognizing the voice instantly, stood up, got a little head rush from standing too fast and almost lost balance.

"Lisbon?" he asked holding onto his small kitchen table to regain his steadiness.

"Yeah...can I come in?"

"Uh, sure, in a minute." he said hurrying to clean the place up a bit. There were beers bottles on a various places, an empty whiskey bottle, two empty tea cups, and his jammies, alongside with other stuff as books, magazines, socks... Jane, usually a pedant, had a rough night and even rougher morning, so he felt like cleaning could wait. Only if he knew...he was picking up the last bottle when all of sudden his left hand lost grip on one of them. As he tried to held on it, the other hand left the service and suddenly all off bottles fell on the ground with a loud noise that only empty bottles can make.

"Jane, you okay?" came a distressed voice again.

He looked at the mess, then at his bloody hand as one of the bottles broke and cut him deep on the palm and sighed.

"Meh", he told to himself and went to open the door to his messy kingdom.

Lisbon almost lost her patience just as the door opened up and revealed Jane, who indeed looked sick. Pale, hair all messed up and with big black bags under his eyes, just standing there, looking sheepishly at her. It was just as she was about to enter the Airstream when she spotted his bleeding hand.

"What the hell, Jane?"


"Ouch, that hurts!" Jane yelped and tried to yank his hand away from Lisbon, with no such luck. Her grip tightened as she sprayed the wound with a some kind of disinfection she found in Jane´s first aid kit.

"Stop being such a baby and hold still."

"It would be completely satisfactory to wash it under water, Lisbon. This is so uncalled for." Jane said and blinked. His vision was just a little blurry as the hangover really kicked in. He watched Lisbon carefully as she put a plaster over his wound.

"You have no idea where those bottles have been so it has to be done, Jane."

"In my fridge Lisbon. They´ve been in my fridge."

Lisbon rolled her eyes at the silly man and looked around. The place was a mess. Her place was usually a mess too so she knew what mess looks like. This was bad even for her standards.

Her eyes went back to Jane who sat there, head bowed, breathing slowly.

"Just how many of those you had Jane?"

"Just the right amount."

"Right amount my ass..." she murmured and got up with the intention of getting the dreaded medical supplies back where they belonged.

Jane chuckled, hearing what she said, but remained seated.

"Uh, Lisbon, I don´t want to sound mean but...how come you are here? Did somebody burn the FBI building down, or...?

Lisbon stopped there, above the medical kit with plasters and dreaded antiseptic in hands. Perhaps coming here was not a good idea after all. What was she thinking? Jane was never a fan of letting anybody invade his personal space, not in the best of days. This clearly was not the best of a day. And yet she left work early and came here, thinking that...that...what was that again?

"You are thinking out loud again, I don´t mean it like that Lisbon, I am just genuinely curious about your reasons, that´ s all."

That jerk.

Putting all those things in her hands down, she faced him with a hint of annoyance in her eyes.

"I was worried, okay?" she said and quickly turned back again, angry at herself for a lot of reasons.

"That´s"...he said, with a sigh, "understandable."

Jane finally looked up only to see the Lisbon´s back, her shoulders were down.

"I am glad you are here," Jane said silently. Lisbon turned to face him, ready to make a sarcastic remark until she saw his face.

He looked...sincere.

Troubled.

And hungover.

Lisbon took pity on that silly old man and joined him on the bed.

Jane immediately lowered his head on her shoulder and on that moment, Lisbon was completely sure, that he was not so much okay. Since he came back they merely talked, and now he initiated a physical contact all of sudden?

She let him, thought, she even let her own hand pet his wild curls lightly.

He was gone for almost two years and she missed him like crazy, so a little pat on the head was okay at these circumstances.

"Jane?"

"Mm?"

"I too don´t want to be mean, but you should really take a shower."

He chuckled briefly, lifted his head and nodded. Without any words he got up and went to the small, barely usable, Airstream shower.


Cold water.

Cold water running all over his hot, naked and heavily thirsty body.

It made his headache fade a way a little. His senses were coming back to life after being shut down for over 42 hours. He reeked. Even with the water already washing some of his sweat away, he could understand what Lisbon meant. He needed shower. Or maybe two or three in a row.

And since she was here, in his mobile home, he just as might.

Only if he knew better. He was so sure she will stay at work, probably late, go home, send him a text message asking whether he is alright, and worry in her living room, with a spoon and ice cream in her hands waiting for his response.

Jane couldn´t decide whether he felt more ashamed or pleased, under these circumstances.

Lisbon was half-way in making sandwiches and tea for Jane when he finally left his tiny bathroom. She gave him a judging look and blushed a little.

He looked and smelled better.

And after hearing "I made you some sandwiches and tea," he started to feel a lot better.


Jane munched on a sandwich after a bit of a fight that took place in the small kitchen. They resolved it quickly with a deal. Jane had to eat at least one sandwich and drink his tea before joining Lisbon in tidying his place. She was just about to throw away beer bottles when Jane sipped the last remains of his tea.

"All done, do I have the permission to help you now, Lisbon?"

"Yeah, you can start with the dishes."

Tidying the place took up some time during which both of them remained mostly silent, deep in their own thoughts. Lisbon was still worried if this was indeed a good idea which Jane could clearly see. She was tidying furiously just as she used to do to her poor desk at the CBI after some of his antics.

As the alcohol was slowly leaving his system, the reality crept back. Two years ago he murdered a serial killer with his bare hands, and now, two years later Lisbon put a plaster on one of those hands and helped him tidy his place up.

Suddenly, his hands felt heavy, his head dizzy and his legs were having trouble in carrying him anymore. He dropped the wet cloth which Lisbon gave him and breathed in hard.

"Jane?"

When he did not respond Lisbon turned to face him, just in time to catch him before his legs gave it away.

"Jane, you okay?" she asked him worriedly, slowly making their way to the bed.

"Yeah, It´s just a lack of a goodnight sleep, most probably, I´ll be fine."

They both sat down, Lisbon still holding him just in case.

Jane was awfully silent for a long time until he asked the question she´d been avoiding to answer since his return.

"You hated me right after, didn´t you?"

Lisbon froze.

She did hate him.

For a few moments maybe. How could she keep hating him? He was finally free, alive and well. He left her a complete mess, with no job, no prospect of future and without the best and maybe only true friend she ever had.

She almost became an alcoholic.

FBI interrogated her on weekly basis.

All while Jane was growing plants on some island after strangling a man with his bare hands.

But he never promised her anything else. She always knew that the day will come . It was not his fault she found it hard to let go and move on.

"I see," he said and tried to wiggle out of her hands.

"I did," she said letting go of him. "For a day or two maybe...I certainly don´t feel that way now...I...I missed you, mostly."

And by mostly she meant every single day.

"I missed you, too," he said. "There was not a single day without thinking about you," he said silently.

Lisbon looked up, only to find his face inches from hers. He was looking so desperate, broken and she was sure her face read the same.

"I still miss you everyday," Jane managed to squeeze out of his tight neck and then proceed to successfully wiggle of Lisbon´s hands following by a run to the bathroom as the sandwiches he ate earlier were making their way up rather then way down.

Lisbon just sat there, eyes still wide open, his words still resonating strongly in her head. It was when his own words were replaced by the sound of retching when Lisbon finally snapped out of it and went to the rescue.


She held some of his hair that seemed to be in the way, while he did what needed to be done. She helped him wash his face afterwards and escorted him to the bed.

Jane happily let her help his sad little self.

"You okay there?" Lisbon asked him with a hint of amusement in her voice.

He was laying in a bed, literally tucked in and absolutely exhausted.

"Um hm."

"Good, I should be going then and you should get some sleep, okay?"

Jane, already half asleep, opened his eyes wide. Somehow the thought of her leaving was making him feel even worse as the alcohol did.

"Don´t go," he said and regretted it immediately. It was a stupid move. Desperate one. And totally uncalled for.

"What?" She said turning her full attention to him.

He was desperate. And alone.

"Don´t go? I mean... you could stay. I am sure you have your overnight bag with you, as always. I...I could scoot and make room for you. Like this."

Lisbon watched him as he moved in the bed just to make some small amount of room for her. She tensed. This was not a good idea. This whole day should be not called friday but a notagoodideaday.

"Okay," she said and sighed, leaving the Airstream to get her overnight bag she always carried, an action that surprised both of them equally.

It was even more surprising when she joined him on the bed, in her jersey and yoga pants, her hair still a little damp after the shower she took, still shivering and swearing at Jane´s cold water supplies.

Half asleep, he flung his own blanket over her and scooted closer.

"What do you think you´re doing Jane?"

"Sharing body-heat," he murmured groggily.

"Would you stop it?" she asked but got no response as Jane was already out.

She should be nervous about this. There should be a shitstorm in her head. But after years of overthinking and analyzing every single thing that had something to do with Patrick Jane, Lisbon had enough.

Not now, not today.

Now, she closed her eyes and marveled at the sensation of being here, with Jane, who shared his blanket with her and had his hand rested over her belly.

They can deal with all of this in the morning.

Until then, she let both of them to have the much needed rest.