Oh, yes, the damn disclaimer: seriosuly, do we really have to do it? Because, Jeez, if I'd own them, I'd not be here writing it, I'd be the writeer of a TV Shows and, well, we'd have the LIsbon romance for real...meanwhile, I just "write, draw, create, dream, hope and believe in Bruno, waiting for him to be blessed bu the light of reason..." (No, this discalimer isn't mine, it belongs to one fo the girls who wite Mentalist fiction on the italian site efpfiction, but don't tell me many of you don't share this vision...).

that's a three part story, a different intake at the events at the end of 3.7- which I hated. I just hope thuings went as I pictured them here-nothing against mash, but Lis simply belongs to Jane, point.

She slammed the door of her apartment angry. It was almost ten and she hadn't had dinner yet because of a certain idiot of a consultant who had thought it was a good idea punching Walt in the nose (and she didn't want to think about how sexy and hot he had been while doing so. God, if she could have her way with him, she'd bring him back into one of the interrogation room and screwed him senseless just because of that…oh, she could see her throwing Jane against the table, and then jumping on him, riding him, the poor man scared while she was into dominatrix mode, or in a cell. Oh, yes, Patrick Jane handcuffed into a cell, and her standing in front of him, touching herself, bringing herself to orgasm while he looked at her, making him beg to allow him to have sex with her…and then riding him fast and hard, her breasts dancing on his face, slapping him…)

Walt, the poor man had just passed by to say hello before to leave for Europe- weird, she thought he'd be gone by then, but, still, it was nice seeing him again, being comforted by him, hearing him telling her everything was going to be all right, that soon all the images of Patrick Jane naked on top of her and pleasuring her were going to be just a far away memory…

Not that she really wanted to get rid of them. She was sure that, thinking about it once in a while was good, and so satisfying... she could try to deny it as long as she wanted, but every time she touched herself, every time she brought herself to sexual ecstasy stimulating with her fingers and vibrators (very big vibrators, because Jane exaggerated in everything he did, there was no reason to not believe he was normal in that department) while thinking of Jane… well, even if it was "only" self-pleasure, if done while thinking of him was so much better.

Now that she thought of it, it wasn't that weird that she had called out his name while Mashburn was fingering her- and having oral sex as well with her. She ALWAYS called out Jane's name when she touched herself. Always, and it was so good, imagining him there with her, doing all that things to her, that marvelous and heavenly things to her… undressing her, biting her nipples while fingering her, then giving her a tongue job while keeping stimulating her nipples with his fingers, and her, arching under him, closed eyes, hands in his so soft curls, and then, Jane moving, kissing her hard on the mouth, biting her lips, profaning her mouth with his tongue, licking her lips, and entering her, slowly, and making love to her. She imagined he loved the slow love making, thrusting in and out of her with a quiet rhythm, giving her time to adjust to his size, she imagined Jane kissing her slowly and sweetly then, smiling in the kisses. She imagined never stopping to kiss each other. She imagined meeting him halfway, setting the same rhythm as he did. She imagined both getting closer and closer to the high, Jane's thrusts into her becoming harder and stronger and faster. She imagined their breathing and their heartbeat becoming erratic. She imagined holding each other like for dear life, marking each other with their nails. She imagined both coming at the same time, their cries of pleasure and moans dying in their mouths as they never stopped to kiss, still smiling, with tears of pure happiness on their faces…

She was already leaning against the front door, unbuttoning and unzipping her jeans, already moaning, ready to let her fingers work their magic on her wet and pulsing centre, not giving a damn about where in her house (her living room) she was going to pleasure herself while thinking of Patrick Jane brining her there, when, her right hand already skimming over her fold, inside her panties, smiling and with a slightly different breathing, flushed, she felt something different….she smell something different. She smell food, home-made food… when had been last time she had had any? It had been so long that she had forgotten…

With a puzzled expression, Lisbon removed the hand from her panties, hoping that whoever was going to be in her kitchen couldn't understand she had tried to have a do-it-yourself orgasm as soon as she had entered her home because she had fantasized about someone (Jane) giving her a mind-blowing orgasm, when…

"Jane! What are you doing in my kitchen?" As soon as she saw him standing at the table, pans in hands, wearing a scarlet apron, grinning, she got scared and terrified. She was so scared and terrified that she almost retreated against the closest wall like a wild animal scared for its life.

Patrick Jane was in her kitchen. Patrick Jane, the same she was having perverted fantasies about, was in her kitchen. Patrick Jane, the almighty mentalist, know-it-all, able to reach into people's minds, was in her kitchen. And she couldn't help but felt embarrassed. He so knew it. Oh Lord, she could almost hear him making dirty comments about her having an orgasm on her own while thinking of them having sex… Actually, she could imagine him making comments about this discovery, with a low, sexy, husky voice, his breath hot on her neck between kisses on her lips and neck, grinning against her skin, while his hands were already busy removing slowly and seductively her clothes, with reverence and devotion, like she was a goddess…I'm flattered you think of me in the hour of need, Lisbon dear, and I think you deserve to know that it's to you that my mind goes to when I need to take problems into my own hands…

"What about the smile and red face, Lisbon dear?" his voice, his real, grinning voice, brought her back to reality, and Lisbon felt like going to hide six feet under. She looked at Jane, standing in front of her, and gulped, unable to say a sole word. She couldn't believe it. Patrick Jane was making her dinner, in a scarlet apron…

And when he moved past the table that was hiding him from the waist down, she noticed he wasn't wearing any clothes under it- at least, nothing from the waist down. Jane joined her, offering a glass of red wine, and while drinking it, Lisbon couldn't help but grin and look at the man in front of her. She skimmed on the apron, on his groin, and then squeezed his member through the fabric… "Well, well, well, someone made himself at home, I see…"

He made her gulp when he took Lisbon for the hips, making hers collide with his owns, so that she could feel better how excited he was and how much he wanted her "Sorry sweetheart, but even if I come here with the purest intentions, as soon as I walked past that door, I started to imagine you wearing only a football jersey, and my pants and boxers were really too constrictive. I had to do something about it, and somehow, I think you don't mind."

"Not at all, Jane" she got a hold of his erection, and started to massage him, then, from skimming and massaging, she moved to squeezing it hard, allowing Jane to thrust into her hands.

"Allow me, Lisbon dear" grinning, while she was pleasuring him, Jane unzipped her pants, and quickly inserted 2 fingers inside her, thrusting as hardly as he could "you're so wet, dear. Tell me, were you thinking of me? I bet you were going to masturbate in the living room fantasizing about us having wild sex wherever we could in this house…it's funny, because I always think of you handcuffing me when I jerk off…"

"You…know…me…so…well…"

"Yeah, and I…. bet that I can… make you come…so many…times…" he moaned as he started to kiss her hard on the mouth, and, at the same time, with his free hand, he started to unbutton her blouse and push up her bra, out of the way, taking her nipples between two fingers and striking them hard, while stroking her centre as well and then…

"Allow me to offer you a glass of merlot and a hot bath with a lot of bubbles and lavender salt for my lady." As she heard the words "Allow me" Lisbon become as red as a tomato, and couldn't stand his eyes. Taking the glass in her hands, without adding another word, Lisbon retreated to the almost safety of her bathroom, looking mortified. She couldn't stand the thought that she couldn't stay five minutes about having dirty fantasies about Jane. She couldn't stand his grin. She couldn't stand that he so knew she wanted nothing more than making love to and with him. She got even redder only when, from upstairs, she heard him shouting, amused. "I settled the candles you love so much and incense as well! And there's a CD in the stereo with relaxing songs!" From his voice, she could say he was grinning, and from the way he was grinning, she understood he knew her mind was filled with indecent thoughts of the two of them. What she didn't understood, and what she didn't saw, was Jane's "victory dance", done as soon as she couldn't see him any longer, nor she knew what was going through his mind… Yes! Gotcha! Take that, Mash! Lisbon wants me! You may have had sex with her, but it's me she thinks about when she is with men and herself! Ah! This night, sweetheart, you'll be mine!

Half an hour later, Lisbon was still in the tub, mortified, when Jane entered with an almost apologetically expression and offered her a second glass of wine. When she didn't move, he simply got to sit with his back against the tub, looking in front of her, the glass on the pavement. They sat in silence, not really knowing what to say or what to do. How was he supposed to tell her she wasn't allowed to date anyone but him, that seeing her, thinking of her, with other men, destroyed him? How could she tell him that it had been a lifetime since she had had sex, because she couldn't avoid thinking about him every time she felt the need and the pleasure? How could she tell him that it wasn't only the sex she wanted for him, but everything?

Almost without thinking, Lisbon started to pass her fingers through his curls, massaging his scalp sweetly and slowly. He purred like a cat, and smiled. They both moved, so that they now were face-to-face, and she felt butterflies in her stomach as she saw HIS smile, his real, honest smile. Without thinking, she removed the distance between them, and kissed him fully on the lips, slowly, sensually, with love and not only lust. She felt like crying when Jane answered to the kiss with just as much passion as her.

She needed him, and from the look of things, he seemed to want her as well, so, grabbing him for the collar, she made him almost collapse in the tub with her. If getting him wet was the only thing she could so in order to have sex with the man, so be it. She wasn't going to allow Jane to escape or retreat, she wanted to have him and she was going to have him, even if she had to abuse of him. "Fuck me, Jane…" she wasn't begging like with Mashburn, when she was imagining Jane doing all those things to her. No, she was ordering him to take her then and there… but Jane's answer WAS retreat. Looking almost scared, he went against the opposite wall, pushing his back against the hard surface, looking at Lisbon with eyes wide open, stuttering his justifications.

"Li… Li… Lisbon, I… I... don't think. I don't think we… we should. I… I can't… what you are asking me… besides, you… you just slept with Walt and…"

"YOU CAN'T? BE HONEST FOR ONCE IN YOUR LIFE, AND JUST TELL ME YOU DON'T WANT ME, JANE! AT LEAST MAYBE I'LL STOP CARING SO MUCH ABOUT YOU AND WANTING TO HAVE SOMETHING WITH YOU" screaming, she emerged in all her naked, soaped and wet glory from the tub, without caring he was still there, staring at her, and stormed out of the bathroom, just to come back for few seconds, still screaming and pointing, angrily, a finger directly into his eyes. He was so glad that Lisbon was naked… first, now he could stop imagining in his wet dreams how she could be, and simply visualizing her as she really was, and second, no clothes, meant no gun. "AND, BY THE WAY, I DIDN'T SLEEP WITH MASHBURN! I TRIED, I REALLY DID, BUT WE HAD TO STOP BECAUSE, GUESS WHAT, OH GREAT AND ALMIGHTY MENTALIST? I MOANED YOUR NAME! I BEGGED YOU TO HAVE ME!"

With that, Lisbon stormed again out of the room, and went into her own, slamming the door hard, leaving a stunned Jean behind. He realized that he had been so upset by the possibility of Lisbon and Mashburn together that he had kind of (big time) missed the signals. Lisbon not only wanted him and not the billionaire, but she wanted to be with him and him only. She couldn't bear the thought of someone else touching her, possessing her… that wasn't lust, if she was only after sex, she'd been with Mashburn, with Bosco, Cho or some random guy met at the bar. If she really thought only of him, if she wanted him to be hers only, then it could mean one thing and one thing only…

With a happy smile, clapping his hands, Jane moves to her door, and gently knocked, sing-singing amused and with a thrill of anticipation. Not only Lisbon was going to be his for the night, but if he was right in his assumption, there was a good chance she was going to be his for the rest of their lives! "Lisbon! Open the door! You know I can always pick the lock, and I doubt you want to waste a really good one like this!"

"SCREW YOU! I DON'T NEED YOU REPEATING ME YOU DON'T WANT ME!"

"If you only would allow me to end my sentences, once in a while, I'd tell you that I don't want to "fuck you", as you so nicely put it, but there's nothing in the world I'd be more than happy to do than making love to you, but since you aren't obviously interested, I think I'll go!"

Less than five seconds later, with Jane still standing in front of her door with crossed arms, extremely proud of himself, Lisbon, dressed with not her usual football jersey, but a white, romantic nightgown, knee-length and sleeveless, opened the door, wide, and looked, pale and stunned, at the man in front of her she was speechless, and voiceless: If what he had told her was true… "Jane… what… why…"

Even if Jane could see the tears running down her cheeks, he still smiled, happy and ecstatic, as he took her hands in his owns, and he kept smiling as he brought her to him, as he forced her lips to collide with his own in a sweet, loving, long kiss… and only when she started to kiss him back, when his hands went to cup her face, when hers took hold of his curls, he realized he was crying as well.

Before, to move her to the bed, he closed the door of the room, hitting it with his foot, without breaking the kiss, and then moved Lisbon, walking backward, to the bed, and when they were almost falling on it, he stopped, finally breaking the contacts of their lips and looked at her. It was like his dream coming true. He couldn't believe it. They were looking at each other with love, affection, devotion and reference, almost shy. Keeping his eyes closed, he kissed her once again, and allowed his hands to feel her under his fingertips, her face, her smile, her tears, like that time he had been blind. "Teresa, are you sure…"

"Yes" she only answered, kissing him back, sweetly, but quickly. Only then, Jane started to undress her, taking his time, looking at her with such a feeling… Lisbon bit her lips as their eyes met, she felt like a goddess.

"My God, Teresa, you are so… you are so beautiful…" He whispered still crying as he kissed her again, once she was fully naked in front of him.

She simply smiled, then grabbed him again for the collar, and was the one to whisper. "Now, Patrick, I think it's my turn. You're wearing way too many clothes…" she repeated Jane's same actions, as slowly as he had done them, maybe even taking more time, if possible. As soon as he was standing fully naked in front of her, Lisbon couldn't stop to stare at his eyes and his chest (she had never thought that, in such a situation, she'd looked at his eyes or his chest. She definitely had another part of his anatomy in mind, when she thought of this kind of situations involving her and Jane). She couldn't stop to look at his eyes because all she saw was love and devotion. And she couldn't stop to smile while looking at his chest because…

"What's so funny, woman?"

She laughed, and she couldn't believe she was laughing while naked in front of a naked Jane, and pressed her lips to his owns again "I never pictured you as the muscular type, that's all"

"Well, I've never pictured you as the romantic nightgown kind of gal, but, you know, you ARE the romantic nightgown kind of gun, so…"

While Lisbon giggled, he took her in his arms, bridal style, and moved the both of them to lie on the bed, on top of the jeans colored blankets, and held her like for dear life. They started to kiss again, angrily, with passion, and never stopped, not even when he positioned himself on top of her, at her opening, not when he did enter her, with a slow movement, delicately, so that she could get used to his size (I was right, Nothing about Patrick is average) and at having a man, a real man, inside of herself after so long, they never parted when he started to thrust inside of her, slowly and delicately, rolling on the bed, embraced. They never parted when the movement of her hips started to be in perfect synch with his owns, or when, feeling that they were both getting closer, he moved inside of herself harder, faster and stronger. They never parted when they breathing and their heartbeats become erratic. They never parted when they moaned and sighed in pleasure. They never parted as they cried each other's name in ecstasy as they reached their high together at the same time, their cries dying in their throat.

When they finally parted, though, Lisbon could feel Jane's tears on her face, and looked at him, not in confusion, but with a look she recognized very well, the same look he was sending her.

He smiled as he gave her a peck on the lips, embracing her again, covering her with the blankets and cuddling against her, his chest against her back. "If I'm having my usual dream, please don't wake me up" she could feel him sliming against her neck, and all she wanted to do was smiling.

"Well, apparently, our dreams aren't so different, Mr. Jane" she turned in his embrace, and kissed him quickly on the lips, still smiling "and tell me, how does this dream of yours usually end?"

He moved to be on one side, his weight on his elbow, the other hand busy stroking affectionately Lisbon's hair, and looked at her with a great smile that reached his eyes, probably one of the few honest smiles she had ever seen him wear since they had met years before, breaking his dialogue once in a while to plant sweet kisses all along her face and shoulders "Well, it usually end with me telling you how beautiful, marvelous, incredible, strong, carrying, sweet and passionate you are. It ends with me telling you how you've made me wish to keep living, but mostly, it ends with me telling you" he took, a big breath, gulping, a bit scared, looking into her eyes, his blue waves into her green field "that I'm in love with you."

She smiled, bright as he had never seen her before, the most beautiful thing in the whole world, and gave him a quick peck on the lips. "Well, you are lucky, then, Mister, because I happen to be in love with you as well, and since you are such a wonderful man, but you can be also a jerk and a pain of my existence, I fear I'll have to stick around for a long time to come…"

Smiling at Lisbon, he captured her lips again, rolling them both so that he could be again on top of her, ready to show again to HIS WOMAN how much he wanted her- and that now that he got her, she wasn't going to get rid of him that easily, he was going to show her that from then on, she no longer had to crave his touch, because he was more than glad to oblige.