The latest episode was bugging me; there were so many things left hanging with that conversation in the container. I know that was on purpose of course, but I couldn't help but fill some of it in with this little oneshot, in my mind. Enjoy.
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I felt a lot better after our trip to the range, having emptied weeks of frustration into the bullets that tore from the gun and ripped through the target. Jane had been observantly silent throughout my venting, politely declining when I asked if he'd like to try. I was immediately glad that he had refused, realizing in hindsight that teaching him how to shoot a gun would not make my life any easier.
Perhaps it was that semi-relaxed state that made me ask what I did, for I don't think I would have brought it up again if I were in the normal guarded state of mind that usually was around Jane. Either way, I was an idiot for saying it.
We were back at the office; Jane had granted me permission to sit on what was now known as his sofa while I finished up paperwork. But I couldn't focus, the events of our little shipping container adventure and the resulting conversation inside said container replaying through my mind. I set down the file I was holding and my pen in my lap and turned to Jane.
He was stretched out on the remainder of the sofa, an elbow propped up on the arm, hand holding up his head. His eyes were closed. I knew he was listening to every move I made.
I took a deep breath, "…You're always going to save me, huh?"
At this quiet question, he cracked an eye open. Bright blue nearly blinded me like a flashlight in the dark.
"Yes," he said simply, closing the eye again.
I stared at him for a moment, slightly annoyed.
"Don't," I said, "You'll get yourself killed."
He smiled, opening both eyes this time. A tinge of amusement was reflected in the azure.
"Probably," he replied.
I rolled my own eyes, "I'm serious, Jane."
The smile disappeared, "So am I, Lisbon."
I resorted to staring again, eyes narrowed, trying to come up with a retort. He, making me very uncomfortable, held my gaze.
"I don't need to be saved," I repeated my earlier argument.
He only shrugged. I looked down at the file in my lap, shook my head and stood up. A thought struck me.
"If it came down to saving me or killing Red John, what would you do?" I asked.
Now his eyes became steely, locking on to me. I almost felt bad for asking, but I wanted an answer. I was giving him an out. If he chose Red John, which I was sure he would, I wouldn't take it personally; revenge was what he lived for, after all. He would only prove me right; I didn't need to be saved. I would want him to choose Red John. My own life paled in comparison to catching that murderer. If he chose me, well, that would only bring up a lot of questions that neither of us wanted to face. I took his silence as his answer.
I nodded, "Don't make promises you can't keep, Jane."
I was at the door when he finally replied.
"I would choose you," he said.
I froze. I felt like I had just taken a punch to the nose. I turned around slowly to find him standing up, facing me.
I shook my head slowly, "No, you wouldn't," I said.
"Of course, I would," he said firmly, "I don't make promises I can't keep. Not anymore," he added.
"But Red John—" I started to protest.
"You would rather have me let you die?" he asked.
I swallowed, "If it meant catching him, yes."
He approached me, stopping only inches away, and placed a hand on my shoulder. I didn't move.
With a quiet intensity, he said, "Lisbon, I would never let you die for any reason, even if it meant letting Red John get away. Not if I could save you."
I looked into his eyes again and briefly wondered if he was hypnotizing me, but shook off the thought.
"Why?" I breathed.
He removed his hand, but maintained the distance between us.
"Without you, I wouldn't have any chance of catching Red John at all. If he got away, and you weren't here anymore… The higher-ups certainly wouldn't keep me around," he rationalized.
Basically, I was his most realistic chance he had of getting his vengeance.
"Right," I said, turning away and heading for my office, trying to ignore a lingering feeling of disappointment. I was a means to an end.
"And," he continued suddenly. Of course, ever the showman. I folded my arms and turned back to hear his response.
He leaned casually against the doorframe, "You are the best friend I've had in a long time."
I didn't know what to say to that, so I didn't say anything.
"And as long as I'm being really honest with myself, probably the best friend I've ever had."
For some reason, I could find any words. I knew I was standing there, looking like an idiot, but for whatever reason, I was speechless. I let my arms fall to my sides, defenseless. It was all I could do to remember to breathe. Why was he telling me this? I was working so hard to deny anything more than coworkers between us, the evidence mounting against me with every day that passed. He was a walking death trap, reckless, not caring in the least for his own life. I wouldn't let myself get dragged down with him. I couldn't.
"So to answer your question, Lisbon, yes," he finished finally, his voice snapping me out of the whirlwind of thoughts, "I will always save you, whether you like it or not."
And suddenly he was gone, back to his sofa, leaving me standing in the middle of the hallway. It was then that I knew that I had gotten myself into something that I could never turn away from. He was willing to risk everything to save my life. I couldn't lie to myself anymore.
It scared the hell out of me.
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Review, please. What did you think of the episode?