AN: I have no time to write another multichapter. So of course I'm writing another multichapter, set immediately after the season 1 finale. At the moment, I'm not sure how long it will be, but it should be several chapters at the least. I'm aware that similar scenarios probably have been explored before, but hopefully that won't dampen anyone's enjoyment of the story. I've loved writing it so far, and I hope you all enjoy it just as much.
Disclaimer: I don't own The Mentalist.
"I should go," she says.
Jane tenses behind her, and his fingertips abruptly stop their movement across her bare hip. He shifts, his muscles moving against her own, before she hears him speak.
"What if you don't?"
The words come out a whisper, but his tone is sure.
Lisbon rolls over to face him, pulling the thin sheet over her chest.
"What exactly do you mean?" she asks. "Are we talking long term or short term here?"
When their eyes meet, Jane becomes hesitant. She watches as his fingers shake when he reaches out to brush them against her shoulder, the crook of her neck.
"Either," he says, his voice low. "Both."
"Jane," she responds immediately, her tone almost scolding. "We can't –"
"In case you didn't notice, Lisbon, we just did."
Lisbon shivers at the suggestion in his voice, at the way his fingers skim across her jaw.
"I almost died," Lisbon whispers. "And we panicked; we overreacted. It's understandable. To be expected, even."
She watches as a beam of light, sneaking in through the slit in the hotel curtains, flashes across his face as a car pulls out of the adjacent parking lot. His darkened eyes illuminate.
"Maybe we panicked. Maybe it was an overreaction. But…" he trails off.
"What?"
He leans down to kiss her. She lets him.
"I'm happy," he whispers against her lips. "It's such a foreign feeling to me that I almost couldn't name it. Don't you think we deserve to be happy every once in a while?"
"What are you suggesting? That whenever we have a bad day we just…"
Jane shakes his head. "I don't mean it like that," he says. "All I'm trying to say is that there are going to be days when we both need a human connection. Tonight, you needed to be held, and I needed to feel you, alive, against me. I'm offering you two arms to hold you, a warm bed when you need it."
He shifts again, and the sheet falls to his hip. Lisbon shivers.
She studies his face, taking in the lines at the corner of his eyes, the slope of his lips, the strength of his jaw. And she almost says yes.
Then she sighs.
"Tell me you're not tearing yourself apart on the inside because of what we've just done," Lisbon says, reaching for his hand. "I'm the first since your wife, right?"
"My wife is dead, Lisbon."
"So I am the first? How are you dealing with that?"
Jane sighs and then rolls onto his back. Lisbon props herself up on an elbow to wait for his answer.
"Not well," he says eventually.
She nods. "I thought so."
Then he turns his head to look up at her. "My wife is dead," he repeats. "What I do now can't hurt her."
"But it can hurt you," says Lisbon. "And that's what I care about right now."
She swears she sees his eyes glisten, but she thinks it must be a trick of the nonexistent light.
"I'm tired of being alone." He looks determinedly up at the ceiling.
Her heart fractures. "You're not alone," she says immediately.
He rolls his eyes. "You know what I mean." Then meets her gaze. She looks away, but it's too late – he's already cold read her. "I'm not interested in a replacement, Lisbon. You should know that."
"I do."
"Then what's the problem?"
She doesn't answer, which for him is answer enough.
"It's not just my guilt," says Jane knowingly. "This is also about yours."
Lisbon nods. "I can't knowingly and in good conscience get involved with you – in any form, in any way. You're still traumatized by the deaths of your family. I'd be taking advantage of that."
"So what do you call tonight?"
"A lapse in judgement."
Jane lets out a sharp breath. "Unbelievable," he mutters.
"Jane, you can't possibly disagree. Us coming together – it's not healthy. For either of us."
"No, Lisbon, actually I would disagree. Because in case you haven't noticed, having a connection with other human beings keeps us sane. And it's not like you can argue with the science – human touch causes our bodies to release hormones that we need to survive."
She frowns at him. "What happened to the loner I adopted onto my team? The con artist who didn't need anyone or anything?"
"You changed him."
"I didn't," she argues. "You're hyped up on adrenaline and endorphins. Once those fade, you'll be able to see clearly." She sighs and softens her tone. "Look, Jane, I'm not saying I regret this. Because I don't. We clearly needed it. But it can't happen again."
He reaches up to thread his fingers through her hair and pull her down to touch his lips against hers. She moans. "You sure about that?" he asks quietly, nearly humming with energy.
He strokes the side of her ribcage, and she is lost.
"One more lapse in judgement," she breathes as his lips find her neck. "And then never again."
Later, after she is clothed and he's pulled on slacks, she's reaching for the door. He pulls her back to him.
"You were right," Jane says. "But not for the reasons you think."
Lisbon looks up at him, curious.
"Any kind of arrangement between us would be dangerous. But not because of the personal ramifications."
Her brow furrows. A millisecond later, she understands.
"You're worried about Red John."
He nods. "The adrenaline and endorphins were clouding my judgement. I won't let it happen again."
She rocks forward on her toes to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth. "Maybe someday. When he's gone and we're both a little less messed up."
"Maybe," he says, and his tone reveals that he feels as dubious about this possibility as she does. "Nonetheless, it was prudent of you to suggest neutral territory. If we'd gone to my hotel, he would have known for sure."
Lisbon feels as though the air temperature has suddenly dropped five degrees.
Jane must notice her expression because he steps closer. "I won't let him near you," he promises.
She smiles sadly at him. "I know," she says. "You proved that tonight. Thank you, by the way. For saving my life."
He shrugs. "I've lost count of the amount of times you've saved mine."
Lisbon brushes an errant curl from his temple, her fingers lingering for a second too long. "I highly doubt that, what with your memory."
Jane has to smile at this.
"Can you manage to stay out of trouble for a few hours?" she asks.
"Guess we'll see."
She nods and drops her hand, brushing his fingers as she moves her arm back to her side. She turns around. "And I'll see you tomorrow."
She reaches for the door again, but Jane's arms suddenly envelop her from behind, and she feels him bury his head in the crook of her neck. She allows herself to lean against him for a second. Then they pull away from each other.
This time, she opens the door and steps through. As she's shutting it behind her, she hears Jane murmur softly, "Yes. You will."