A/N: I wrote this tag on Monday, but saw that quickly there were already really good tags that dealt with the same topic—the kitchen floor sleep-talking scene—so I had decided not to post it. I don't like others to think I've stolen their ideas, and I try to present my own original ideas, but I guess great minds were thinking alike on this one (or I was just lucky:) . So, my friends on Twitter encouraged me to publish this anyway, so here it is. I hope it is different enough from the others to warrant your reading it.
I usually try to stick to realism and canon for my tags, but I got a little carried away this time. Hope you don't mind. It was a great episode, and it felt so good to see Jane being his usual self, that I couldn't resist bringing out some Jisbon. I also enjoyed pausing my DVR on his notebook at the end and reading the names he'd written, along with his personal descriptions. Fun fun fun.
Episode Tag: Black Cherry, 5x9
The darkness of the model home lent a certain intimacy to their stakeout, as Lisbon sat on the kitchen floor beside Jane. Despite the emotional toll of the case, both of them were feeling strangely content. Lisbon, because Jane was actually present for this one, and she knew it had much to do with what he believed he had gleaned from Lorelei Martins. As for Jane, it was as if he had a new lease on life, or at least a feeling of hope he hadn't exhibited since they'd reunited in that church months before. It was as if this were finally the break he'd been looking for, no matter how silly it seemed to start writing lists like a vengeful Santa Claus.
As skeptical as Lisbon was about this new lead, she was pleased because Jane was pleased, and because he was pleased, he was more like himself again. His entire demeanor seemed lighter, the weight of the very world lifted from his shoulders, and he joked and chatted with her in the easy way she liked him best. She sat back against the cupboards, willing herself to stay awake. Jane, meanwhile, tended to catch his catnaps where he could, and this was no exception, despite the fact they were waiting for a killer to arrive.
It only seemed like seconds later that she felt him shake her awake, and she opened her eyes, momentarily disoriented, to find him kneeling right next to her.
"What? Huh?"
"Shh...you called out my name in your sleep."
She flushed in embarrassment, especially when she found he was holding her hand warmly in his. She was certain he felt her pulse leap beneath his fingers.
"Sorry," she murmured, watching in something akin to shock as he brought her hand up to his mouth.
Her mind went blank, for she could not think past the feel of his soft, full lips on her skin.
"Teresa," he said, his breath feathering across her bare knuckles. "I'm sorry for being so distant with you lately. You didn't deserve that, after all I've put you through, these past months especially."
"I—I understand," she managed. "It was a big letdown to have Lorelei escape. You've been depressed about it, I know."
"Yes. And I didn't want to burden you with it, wanted to spare your deeper involvement, so I kept stuff from you. But now things are different, and I want you to be a part of every aspect of this. I want to share everything with you. Can you handle it? Can you handle how terribly complicated this might become?"
"Of course I can," she said, reveling in the fact that his hand still gripped hers. She made no move to pull away. "We'll sort this out together."
"Good," he said, and she could see the brightness of his smile even in the dim light. She felt her heart melting inside. "I was hoping you would say that."
She watched as he leaned in closer to her, saw his eyes close as he proceeded to nuzzle her neck beneath her hair, deeply inhaling her scent as he found her earlobe and nibbled. She shivered, and his hands rested on her shoulders, as he moved his mouth slowly along her jaw. Her head fell back against the cabinetry, her eyes tightly closed as her addled brain tried to register what he was doing to her. Her heart pounded loudly in her ears, and she had no doubt he could hear it.
"Jane," she said on a whimper. "Oh…God."
He kissed the corner of her slightly parted lips, then drew back to look at her, as if asking permission to cross this line that had always marked the firm boundary between friendship and something infinitely more personal.
"Please," she said. His hand came up to brush her hair from her eyes, and hers came up to rest on his vest.
"Is that please continue, or please stop?" he asked, a tinge of his familiar humor in his voice.
Her answer was to move the fraction of an inch forward and fulfill her most ardent fantasy. She heard him gasp softly against her mouth before he took control of the kiss, teasing her by suckling her bottom lip until she squirmed and made a low cry of impatience. Her hands shot up to his impossibly soft hair and she pulled him even closer, feeling his laughter right before she deepened the kiss, slipping her tongue inside to meet his.
It was Jane's turn to groan at this first intimate touch, and suddenly it was as if a sensual dam were opened, and he plundered her mouth, pulling her body to his in a tight embrace. He deftly maneuvered her to the tile floor, pillowing her head with his hands, pinning her body beneath his. She felt his desire and moaned out her own. As the kiss gathered heat, his hands began to explore—
She woke suddenly to Jane tugging the sleeve of her jacket.
"Huh? What?"
"It's okay. You were talking in your sleep."
"I was?"
"And drooling a little," he said dryly.
It hadn't been real.
Lisbon flushed to the roots of her hair at having such an erotic dream about the consultant, with him sitting right across from her. She was tremendously grateful for the darkness, but she still tried to school her features so he wouldn't attempt to read her mind, mortified that she might have given herself away with her uncensored words.
"Well, what did I say?" she asked slowly, the residual effects of the dream still leaving her feeling shaken and trembling inside.
"Someone's coming," he exclaimed, and Lisbon had never been so happy to come face to face with a murderer in all her life.
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
The next day…
Jane could tell that something was bothering Lisbon that morning, particularly when she seemed so unaccountably nervous around him. She'd shut herself up in her office, closing the blinds as a Victorian maiden buttoned her blouse to her neck. After a few hours, he could no longer take it anymore, especially after the fun and success of the previous day. So, armed with two cups and a donut, he tapped on her door.
"Come in," she said reluctantly.
He maneuvered the steaming cups so he could open the door, and grinned at her, but she only met his eyes for a frightened instant, then her gaze skittered back to her computer monitor.
He set his peace offering on her desk and went to her couch, watching her stare at her coffee for a full minute.
"Whatever's wrong with you, Lisbon? I thought things ended rather well yesterday, didn't you?"
"Yes, they did."
"You did the right thing, Teresa. You should be feeling pretty proud of yourself."
"Yeah. It was the right call, but I did it the right way and didn't just let her go," she said meaningfully, and Jane knew that of course she was referring to the debacle with Lorelei. "I got Sarah to drop the charges."
Jane nodded, ignoring the jibe. "So what's the problem, then? You're nervous as a cat in a room full of rocking chairs." He sipped his tea around his grin.
Despite her obvious reluctance to talk to him, she couldn't help but smile in return, as he'd intended.
"It's nothing you can help me with. I'll be fine."
He stared at her hard for a few moments, and she looked away self-consciously.
"Hmm," he persisted. "It's something to do with me. Something that you are clearly embarrassed about. What has happened recently that you could possibly be-? Aw," he finished, nodding in satisfaction.
"Jane—"
"It was your sleep-talking, wasn't it?"
She swiveled in her chair to face her computer, and began typing random words. "I really need to get back to—"
"Brooding?" he supplied. "I know a brooder when I see one; I've perfected the art, remember? You haven't gotten much work done inside your makeshift fortress of solitude, have you?" He saw her flinch, saw the heightened color in her cheeks. He set down his cup on the side table. "Wow, you're really upset about this."
She looked directly at him now, despite her keen embarrassment. "It's really nothing. I'm probably making too big of a deal about this."
Jane considered her thoughtfully. "Yes, you are. So let me put you out of your misery, Lisbon. Whatever it was you dreamed about, I have no idea. You were talking, but saying nonsense words. Frankly, I would think the unchecked drooling would be more embarrassing." He smiled reassuringly. "Relax, your secret is safely tucked away in your subconscious. Unless, of course, you want to share…?" His eyes grew distinctly mischievous.
"Uh, no." Then, after a beat: "Really? You don't know?" She swallowed, looking hard at him now for signs of deception. As usual, his poker face was perfectly set to unreadable.
"No. And don't you think that if I had known you were dreaming such juicy dreams, I would be teasing you mercilessly about them?"
"Maybe," she said, for it would just depend on his mood.
"Well, trust me, Lisbon—"
"Famous last words."
He chuckled. "Maybe," he echoed. And this brought back her smile, and he was gratified to see her tension melt away before his eyes. She took a sip of her cooling coffee.
"Better?" he inquired.
"Much. Now, I really need to finish my paperwork for the case."
"Mind if I take a nap?"
"Could I seriously stop you?"
"Meh. You know you could if you really wanted to. But you like having me around." .
"Yeah, so I can keep an eye on you and reassure myself you're not out causing me more paperwork."
He lay down on her white, comfy couch and settled down into the pillows. He reached up and pulled down the throw blanket, preparing himself for an afternoon snooze. Then he grinned and yawned dramatically.
"Good night, Lisbon."
"Night, Jane."
At her desk, Lisbon shook her head in relief, for her own sanity choosing to believe him on this one. Her fingers went to the keyboard and she tapped away soothingly.
On her couch, Jane was nowhere near sleeping. He wondered what Lisbon would say if she knew she'd called his name on that kitchen floor, along with a few betraying moans and a sensual Oh, God.
He'd awakened her because he'd felt like an eavesdropper, and he knew she would be mortified if she knew what he had witnessed. The fact that she dreamed of him at all was humbling, and he felt the way he usually did in her presence—undeserving. But he couldn't help but wonder what she would think if she knew that between his own nightmares, he often found his dreams filled with erotic images of her beneath him, where he openly whispered his love over and over.
But Jane didn't think either of them was ready for true confessions yet. There were too many things in their way—his quest for vengeance and her fear of commitment, to name two. For now, they would have to settle for loving each other in their dreams.
Jane willed himself to calm down, to try and catch a few winks since he'd been tirelessly brooding himself over that damn list he was composing. Maybe he'd get lucky, and Dream Lisbon would visit him again. He secretly hoped that if that were the case, Real Lisbon would hear him call her name...
With that as his last thought, he felt himself drifting over the edge to the oblivion of sleep.
A/N: Okay, now feel free to tell me what you think! And please log in so I can answer you personally. Thank you!