Authors Note: I want to thank everyone who has taken the time to read my little story. I'm thrilled that so many seem to be enjoying it. I've got two more parts after this one, so I may end it there or I may keep going. It depends on if the story tells me its done being written. This part wasn't written on my phone, but I hope that doesn't detract from the appeal :)

Gentle Beginnings 2

Lisbon woke slowly, not wanting to leave the dream that involved warmth and love and bliss and her and Jane. Though she couldn't point to one thing in particular in the dream that made it that way, just the feeling of contentment. She could still feel Jane's arms around her, marveling that they had both been so exhausted that neither of them had moved, even in their sleep.

She didn't want to leave the cocoon that was his arms, but the uncomfortable sensation of a dry mouth and a full bladder finally convinced her that a few minutes from his arms was necessary. The pale yellow glow of a built in night light, intended to keep guests from stubbing their toes in the search of the light switch, was all the light she needed as she fumbled her way to the toilet and sink.

She didn't know what time it was and was considering checking her phone to find out when she heard a strangled call from the bed. Rushing over she saw Jane thrashing, legs tangled in the sheets, arms flailing about as if looking for something.

"Jane," she called, reaching an arm out to touch him, wanting to comfort him, but wary of the limbs flying about.

With a start he woke, staring wild eyed at her. She turned on the lamp by the bed, casting a soft glow.

"Are you ok?"

He didn't say anything at first, just nodded and then pulled her to him, crushing her to his chest.

"I had a dream," he mumbled into her hair, peppering her with light kisses.

"Red John?" That name again, she didn't like saying it any more than he had before they fell asleep. But she knew that before, all those years ago in California, when he woke with a start that Red John had been playing a staring roll in his dreams.

"No, but it may as well have been." He had settled down, not as frantic as he had been when he first woke and he loosened his grip on her, allowing her to move fully onto the bed next to him. She kept her head on the undershirt he had worn to bed, listening to his heart beating and the way his voice vibrated through his chest.

"I dreamed that I lost you. That you slipped through my fingers like sand. No, there was no Red John, no shadowy figure, just distance. You couldn't hear me, I couldn't reach you. And it felt as though the world was crashing down on me."

She knew that he didn't need simple platitudes. Empty reassurances would not suffice here; they had known each other for far too long for that to work. Instead, she shared with him a memory.

"Do you remember that case we had, the one with the team of executives on a retreat in the mountains?"

"The one with the letter telling us where a murder was going to occur and then a body fell out of the sky?"

"Yes, that one."

"I do remember, it had rained at one point, and there was a bomb, and we spent a lot of time together in my car."

"Well, I remember you telling me that I needed to trust you. I remember eating apples and strawberries from a roadside farmers market and talking about leadership retreats and trust falls. And I remember you goading me into doing a trust fall with you. I remember being so scared that it was a joke to you. That you were going to let me fall. But you didn't. You've always been there to catch me. And, I've always been there to catch you. When you ran off to Vegas to try to trick Red John I was there. I would have been there sooner had I known."

He rubbed his hand up and down her back, enjoying their closeness. "You have always looked out for me, haven't you?"

"I like to think that I have, even when you were being a pain in the ass." This brought a chuckle that reverberated through his stomach and made her smile. She loved his laugh. He didn't do it nearly often enough.

"Remember the first case we had with Van Pelt?"

"Yes, you were pissed off at me because the case before the mother of a murdered girl had shot her husband for molesting the daughter."

"Yes, but to be fair, you really should have told us what was going on before she had the chance to get a gun."

"I like to think that I've gotten better since then."

"That's debatable."

"Anyway," Jane said, slightly louden than necessary, but with humor in his voice, "is there a reason you bring up that disastrous case?"

"Only as an example of a time I tried to save you from yourself. Of course I played right into your plans…"

"You couldn't have known. And besides, it did mean a lot to me, that you cared enough about me and my mental health that you wanted me to see someone. Even if that someone was a killer pretending to be Red John."

"You made me a jumping paper frog." She smiled at the memory.

"I remember. It made you jump too." She could tell that he was smiling, even though she couldn't see his face.

"I still have that little frog."

"Really?" He was surprised. He'd never imagined Lisbon as the type to cherish keepsakes.

"Yes. I've kept a lot of little things over the years from you. They sit in a box on my shelf next to another box well-worn with use that holds a bundle of letters sent from half a world away."

"My letters."

"I read each one a hundred times. Hoping, praying, that there would be something in them to give me hope of seeing you again. Of being close to you again."

"But I'm here now."

"Yes. And that is more important than all those letters with a decided lack of hidden meanings."

The fell into silence. Both thinking of letters and lost chances and hope and renewal. Things between them may not have taken a typical route, but they still got to the same destination.

Lisbon was just falling asleep again, comfortable and safe in Jane's arms, when the trill of a cell phone broke through the peace.

"The real world calls," Jane mumbled. He had been close to sleep as well.

Sighing, Lisbon got up to answer, promises of days off and time to relax and enjoy this new found love flying through her head, hopes being dashed with each ring of the phone.

"Lisbon," she answered after seeing Abbott's name pop up on the caller ID. "Umhum, yes. Ok. We will. Thank you again. I'll be sure to let him know."

She hung up and turned to Jane with a smile. "Abbott pushed through the transfer cancelation paper work. I'm good to go back to Austin. I start back up with the team in a month. I get some time off to get everything situated."

"That was nice of him to let you know."

"Yes it was." She sat, leaning against the desk where her phone had been laying, looking at Jane in the bed. He was wearing a plain white t-shirt and a pair of striped pajama bottoms. She'd never seen him in pajamas before. In all the years she'd known him, she never seen him in anything but a handful of outfits. She decided that she like this look on him, hair tousled from sleep, a few days beard growth, rugged and sexy and handsome; the stuff dreams were made of.

A grumbling at the pit of her stomach reminded her that it had been lunchtime the day before that she had eaten last and she sighed looking at the time on her phone. It was after noon. "We should get lunch." She said, putting the phone down and standing a bit straighter.

"We could order in." Jane said, stretching and watching Lisbon as she nervously fiddled with the hem of her tank top.

"Let's explore the island. You picked this spot as a destination to seduce me, so let's see what it is about this area that makes it so romantic, so much so that you felt the need to fabricate evidence to get me here." The last bit was said in jest, but Lisbon could tell that the reminder of what almost wasn't was still fresh and raw in his mind.

"Lunch out then it is." They dressed quickly, sharing the bathroom like they had that morning. They didn't make a big deal of the fact that they weren't dressing in front of each other, they would get to that in time.