I wrote this for Alamo Girl the day after Redline (S2E13) aired (because she said she wanted to know what happened after the end of the episode), but I wasn't planning to post it, since there's really not much to it. However, having discovered that writing episode tags is rather fun, I thought I'd post it and then add others for other episodes as the mood strikes.

Speed Limits

Jane cannot (dare not) express what he feels in words, even to himself. But he's always been a passionate adherent to the theory that actions speak louder than words. Sometimes the only way to find out how you feel is to stop thinking and see what happens.

It's a trait that Lisbon finds intensely annoying. She always thinks things through, tries to anticipate the consequences of her actions, stays in control.

Jane knows that you can't control the consequences. You just have to step back and see what happens. People surprise him more often than he'd ever admit. His plans rarely go the way he thinks they will. He might appear to play people like fiddles, but the truth is that most of the time he's flying by the seat of his pants. He enjoys the thrill of it. It's exhilarating not knowing quite what's going to happen next.

When Lisbon politely evades Mashburn's attentions, Jane feels a happiness (a relief) that he doesn't bother to analyse. Action is more his speed, and it currently comes in the form of a silver sports car. He turns on the full wattage of his charm, and Lisbon climbs in beside him with what can only be described as willingness. A willingness she wouldn't have shown if the car's owner had been the one to invite her – a fact that makes Jane (justifiably) smug.

So he twinkles his mischievous smile at her, puts his foot flat on the gas pedal and, with his usual air of confidence, shoots them out of their comfort zones and into the fast lane. She protests as expected, but Jane is behind the steering wheel for once and he's relishing his fleeting opportunity to be in control.

Lisbon minds less than she had anticipated. The law-abiding cop in her isn't putting up much of a fight against the thrill of the speed and the evident delight of the man beside her. 'So this is what fun feels like,' she thinks, with the small part of her brain that is still taking the trouble to think.

For appearances' sake she does tell him to slow down a few times, but her heart isn't in it. It's part of the game they always play for her to say things she doesn't mean even though they both know he doesn't believe her. It's become almost a reflex, part of their routine.

She doesn't know if it's taken seven and a half minutes or not, because she hasn't been paying any attention to the time. The table Jane has booked is on the terrace, under trailing vines and with a wonderful view. It brings back a sudden vivid memory from a previous case they had here in Napa: Jane on the phone asking for a reservation on the terrace because it's more romantic; and then having the gall to tell her not to fret, that he wouldn't seduce her over a meal.

She wonders if he remembers. (Of course he does.) She wonders if he's changed his mind.

Jane sees that she's remembered. She catches his look and knows that he's read her thoughts again. But she's reading his thoughts too, so she doesn't blush; she merely quirks her eyebrows at him and takes her seat. Sometimes being able to read each other's minds is rather peaceful. And it saves time.

It's nice to be able to just relax and order a meal. When Lisbon is on a case, she never accepts food or drink from the people they are interviewing. It wouldn't fit in with her way of doing things 100% by the book. Jane, of course, goes out of his way to do the opposite. He follows his own set of rules, and admittedly it works pretty well. Her method creates distance, emphasises her official capacity; his method puts people at ease, creates a repartee. They make a good team. Yin and yang.

But now it's just the two of them and they're not working. If it weren't completely inappropriate, she'd almost label it a date. Of course, having just spent the last few days wondering how to handle the fact that Rigsby and Van Pelt are blatantly breaking the no-dating rule and having eventually decided to overlook it (with a bit of unacknowledged help from Jane), she couldn't think of doing the same thing herself. That would be incredibly foolish, and she is not a foolish woman. Ergo, it is not a date.

But it is pleasant. The place is beautiful, the wine is expensive and the meal is delicious. And the company... well, the company is going out of his way to show her a good time. He's being witty and charming and he hasn't said a single intrusive or obnoxious thing the entire meal, which is almost certainly a record.

He talks to her about art and music, both subjects he knows a great deal about. He suggests they go to an art exhibition that is coming to San Francisco next month, or perhaps to the symphony, or both? Before her brain has time to stop her, she tells him that she'd like that. He smiles with such genuine happiness that she knows she can't take it back. And she's not particularly sorry.

He takes her back to her car via a very circuitous route. It takes a lot longer than seven and a half minutes, but this time neither of them is paying any attention to the time. Lisbon isn't even pretending not to have fun anymore. Jane is happier than he's been in a very long time.

He drops her off where he picked her up, and there is no need for them to do more than smile at each other and say goodbye.

Tomorrow they will work and bicker and she will drive. But next month they will go to an exhibition in Jane's car and he will buy her a meal and make her laugh and she will once again completely forget to be stern about the speed limit.