Author's Note: A guest reviewer for Facing Facts pointed me to the Blue Heaven behind the scenes photos and worried it meant Jane was leaving Lisbon again. I thought about it and decided to work it out in this universe. So I'm finally admitting this is a multi-chapter. I refuse to estimate the number of chapters after my epic fail doing that for In the Cards, but this won't be another novel. I skip over who Red John is and how he dies because that's not the point of this story, and because I'm lazy. Just fill in the blanks with whatever makes you happy. :)

Chapter 3: Consummation

As Red John's body was hauled off, Lisbon looked up from giving her statement to the local cops who were trying to get in on the action and realized Jane had disappeared into the twilight. A spurt of panic sent her further into the woods, crashing through the brush and swinging her flashlight around until she found him sitting beside the small stream, looking blankly at the water and fiddling with his wedding ring. Part of her wanted to sit down beside him and join him in his quiet contemplation, but she knew she couldn't.

"Jane," she said gently, kneeling beside him. "Jane, do you hear me?"

"I'm not deaf, Lisbon," he replied, his voice almost normal but his expression distant.

"Good. If you won't come back with me, I need you to stay right here until I'm ready to leave. Okay? Don't run off. Stay right here."

He finally met her eyes. "Why are you talking to me like I'm a three-year-old?" he asked, more curious than offended.

"Because I think you might be in shock," she replied, still in her most gentle voice.

"I'm not in shock."

She refrained from rolling her eyes with a heroic effort. "Okay then. Because you have a habit of wandering off, and you might be in danger from any disciples who might be looking for a chance at revenge." Some of whom might be cops, judging from experience.

"Ah. True." He let out a sigh, then got to his feet. "I'll come with you, then."

He followed her back to the scene, but before she could get more than a sentence out, Jane interrupted her. "Let's go, Lisbon. Cho can handle this."

"I just need a minute, Jane." She eyed him warily; he was restless and fidgety, a very bad sign.

"Then give me your keys. You can ride back with the others."

There was no way in hell she was letting him run off on his own. "Just one minute, Jane, please," she said, sticking her hand in her jacket pocket so he couldn't lift her keys.

Cho and Rigsby were standing close enough to hear what was going on. Cho said, "We got this, Boss."

"Are you sure?" She was torn. But Cho had seen everything she had, and she couldn't delegate looking after Jane.

"Yeah. You guys go on." Cho was looking at Jane like he was a bomb that might go off at any moment. She couldn't blame him.

"Okay. Thanks." She headed for the car, Jane following so closely he was almost stepping on her heels.

"Where to?" she asked once they were safely on the road. She didn't want to take him to the office; he'd just get in his car and vanish. She didn't know why she was so convinced he was about to run, but she wasn't going to take the risk.

"I don't care. Just...away from here." He looked out the window, becoming lost in his thoughts again.

The only safe, private place she could think of was home, so that's where she drove. Jane didn't seem to know or care until she turned off the car engine; then he looked around. "I need my car," he said.

"Later," she replied. "Come in for a drink first. We should at least toast the fact that we're rid of the bastard." If she could get him talking, maybe it would all be okay. Maybe she could at least figure out where he was planning to go, if he even knew himself.

She could feel the nervous energy emanating from him as she fumbled with her keys while unlocking her front door. She was beginning to feel frantic, and that wasn't good. She needed to stay calm if she was going to calm him down.

Leading him into the house, Lisbon closed and locked the door before turning to him. He stood with his back to her, hands clenching and unclenching as he wrestled with some thought. Her heart sank. Could she really stop him if he needed to run? Should she?

"Jane—" she began at the same moment he spun around and grabbed her. She barely had time to gasp in surprise before his mouth landed on hers.

For a few seconds all she was aware of was his tongue sliding against hers, tasting of blueberries. Then her brain kicked in again, and she thought, Oh good, sex will work off some of his nervous energy.

Then her higher functions came back online and she realized that this might not be the best idea, regardless of what their bodies were saying to each other. But she was too distracted to form a sentence, because he was wrestling her jacket off with more determination than finesse. She decided to help him out, and as it landed on the floor she realized she'd better get her gun off before he tried to treat it so carelessly. But reaching for it left him easy access to her blouse buttons, which he undid in record time, finishing just as she managed to set her gun on the little table beside the door.

"We shouldn't—" she managed to say, but had to stop as he got the front clasp on her bra undone and replaced the fabric with his hands.

"Oh, we absolutely should," he breathed, just before he fastened his mouth to one breast, removing her ability to form words altogether.

mmm

When Lisbon woke up the next morning, it took her a moment to remember why her muscles ached. Then she smiled, a little amazed at the unaccustomed sensation of happiness. She felt almost high from the wild night, every inch of her body sated—except for her stomach. Dinner hadn't been on the agenda, after all.

Jane was lying facedown beside her, one hand splayed on her stomach as he slept. She wondered if she could get up without disturbing him. He certainly deserved to sleep in after his exertions, she reflected. Besides, she wasn't entirely sure that he wouldn't get up, get dressed, promise to send her a postcard, and call a cab to vanish from her life, leaving this night as her fondest memory of him.

What did he have to stay for now, after all? Surely he'd want to get away, go start fresh as she'd told him to do when they met. Why stay where everything and everyone would remind him of his quest for vengeance, and by extension his grief and loss? She'd run from her past as fast and far as she could the moment she got the chance, so she understood.

She just really, really didn't want him to go. The thought of the massive hole he would leave in her life was devastating. At least when he'd left for Vegas she'd had some vague hope of seeing him again, daydreams of closing the Red John case and tracking him down to tell him the good news. Of bringing him home and getting him cleaned up for the trial. Of reconnecting with each other so well that he just never got around to leaving again.

She looked over at him again, only to find him looking back. He smiled sleepily and murmured, "Good morning."

The hoarseness of his voice reminded her of how he'd yelled her name in the darkness, and she felt herself blushing. Of course that only made him smile wider. "Good morning," she replied.

"You're thinking sad thoughts. Stop it," he said, scooting closer so he could reach across her and play with her hair.

"I just—I know you want to leave." She was proud of herself for finding the guts to say it, but she wished her voice hadn't trembled.

He hummed a little in response. Then he sighed, tucking his face against her arm. "I need to go think about things. Figure things out. Do some of the things I've put on hold."

"I know. And I want you to. I just don't... Please don't vanish again. At least let me know where you are this time."

He lifted his head, frowning at her. "Of course I will. I'd ask you to come with me if I thought there was a chance you'd say yes."

"Really?" She could hardly believe it. But then, he had to know she wouldn't run away with him. She had responsibilities and people who depended on her.

"Really." He looked amused now. "When I get somewhere, I'll let you know. Maybe you'll come visit. Take a vacation. You know, that thing people do when they get tired of working?"

She made a face at him. "Yeah, yeah. I could probably take one now that I won't have a consultant nobody else can manage." She decided that fair was fair, so she slid a hand into his curls and scratched lightly at his scalp. This was one of the things about him she wanted to remember: how his hair felt between her fingers and how it made him close his eyes in pleasure, then give her a smile that made her insides melt.

"An excellent point," he replied, bending down to press a kiss to her breast. He began working his way across her chest, but paused when her stomach growled.

"Sorry," she said, hoping he wouldn't stop.

"My fault for not letting you out of bed long enough to order a pizza," he chuckled. "I'll feed you breakfast when we're done here. Unless of course you don't have the strength for one more round without nourishment."

She pulled him down to her, wrapping all four limbs around him. "I think I can survive a few more minutes. That's probably all you've got left in you, after all."

"Ooo, a challenge," he mused, thrusting his hips gently against her before pulling back to find her entrance and slide inside. "You should know better."

She smiled up at him as he began to move. "I know how you like to prove me wrong. Besides, you don't need to impress me. I'm already amazed at such stamina at your age."

"You're just looking for trouble, aren't you?" he growled, picking up the pace.

"Just trying to get a few points in before you ride off into the sunset," she replied.

He stopped, surprising her. She shifted her hips, trying to get him to move again, but he just stared down at her like she'd said something shocking. Finally he managed to say, "I'm not leaving you, Lisbon. Not permanently, anyway. How could you think that?"

"I just—you're coming back?"

"Of course I am! We're engaged, after all. It would be hard to get married if I didn't."

"What?" She gaped at him. "We're what?"

"Engaged. Betrothed. Participating in a social contract that generally culminates in marriage."

Her mouth opened and closed as she tried to find words to respond to this latest bit of outrageousness. "We are not!" she spluttered after a moment.

"We most certainly are. I asked you to marry me, and you said yes. It's not something I'm likely to forget." He seemed offended.

She couldn't believe they had stopped having sex to argue about whether they were engaged. It seemed bizarre, even for them. "When?" she demanded.

"The day after Rigsby and Van Pelt got married. You remember. After breakfast, in the car. Admittedly the ambiance left something to be desired, so I'm happy to recreate the experience in a more romantic setting if you like."

"That was—you were just—that was not a proposal!" He had to be teasing her, which was pretty cruel considering he was leaving. "We were talking about Kendall Walker!"

"We were not. And I'd appreciate it if you could refrain from bringing up other men you find attractive while we're having sex." Now he was pretending to be indignant.

"We no longer seem to be having sex," she pointed out. "Maybe we could finish that first and then call a good psychiatrist to address your delusions?"

"I don't know if I want to have sex with you if you're refusing to marry me after you promised to," he retorted. "That's tantamount to breaking up, if I remember correctly."

"How can we break up? We were never together!" Had she woken up in a parallel universe or something? Maybe this was a dream? There had to be an explanation. There was no way that even Jane could hold her to a random conversation that had been purely hypothetical.

"Really? You don't consider the past twelve hours or so being together? You're going to need to explain your rating system to me, Lisbon. It's not at all intuitive."

Okay, he might have a point there. But she had just realized she had a thoroughly unassailable argument against the "we're engaged" theory. "If we're engaged, where's my ring?"

"Downstairs. At least, I think that's where my vest is at the moment. On the stairs, maybe."

She stared at him again. "You're serious." It was beginning to dawn on her that he might be, and if he was, she was handling this all wrong.

"Yes, of course I'm serious, Lisbon!" He rolled away from her with a huff and got out of bed, stalking across the room with no regard for his nudity. She couldn't help but admire the view, both as he left and a few moments later when he returned, holding a diamond ring triumphantly in his hand. "I bought it the day after we got engaged. I just didn't think it was a good idea to give it to you while Red John was stalking us. Here!" He practically thrust it into her face as she sat up.

Well, that's romantic, she managed not to say as she stared helplessly at the ring. It was gorgeous, not too flashy but well-made and expensive looking. It was probably an antique, she thought. Old-fashioned and unique. Just like him.

She suddenly wanted to cry.

"Oh, don't—don't cry, Lisbon," he sighed, dropping his hand and relaxing his posture. "Do you want to back up and go the traditional route, where I take you out to dinner twice a week until we realize there's nothing else to know about each other, and then I pop the question in some romantic location and we start arguing about where we're going to live?"

"Not really. Besides, you're leaving anyway." That was the part she was having trouble with, and it amazed her that he couldn't see it.

"But I'm coming back." He leaned down a little so they could look into each other's eyes more easily. "That's what this means, Lisbon. I'm coming back."

She took a deep breath and tried to calm down. "But you have things to figure out. How do I know that you'll still want this when you're done with that? I know you've been worried about me. While he was out there threatening me, that made you anxious. It doesn't necessarily mean that you love me."

"I know what love is," he snapped. Then he sighed again, rubbing at the back of his neck. "Look. If you don't love me, then fine. Tell me that. But don't tell me that what I'm feeling isn't real."

She looked down, confused and worried she was making irrevocable mistakes without realizing it. The silence was broken only when her stomach growled again.

"Come on," Jane said, holding his hand out to her. "Let's get showered and dressed so we can go find breakfast. We can talk again once we've both had food and caffeine."

She took his hand and got out of bed, cheered slightly by the admiring look he gave her. Other parts of him seemed to be regaining their enthusiasm as well, she noted.

"And in the meantime, allow me to present the menu for our shower time," he said in a ridiculous fake French accent as they walked hand in hand to the bathroom. "There is the angry sex, because we are both frustrated with each other. There is the sex where I try to impress you in hopes you will decide you cannot live without the numerous beautiful orgasms I bring you. And lastly, there is the bittersweet good-bye sex where we are both desperate to prolong it as much as possible because it may be a long time before we have it again. What is Madame's pleasure this morning?"

She shook her head, wishing she could feel lighthearted about any of this. "Jane, there's not a woman in the world who wouldn't choose the second option."

"Excellent choice, Madame. Prepare to become impressed." He handed her into the shower as if she were getting into a carriage, which made her smile despite herself.

mmm

An impressive length of time later, they got out of the shower, dressed, and went to the diner where, according to Jane, they'd gotten engaged pulling out of the parking lot. She wondered where he'd put the ring. She wondered if it would fit.

She wondered if she'd lost her mind. Marriage was something other people did. She was a cop with a ridiculous schedule who could die on the job any day of the week. She wasn't wife material.

"No thinking until we've eaten." Jane shook his finger at her sternly. "You'll always make the wrong choice on an empty stomach."

She sighed. He wasn't wrong. "What should we talk about? Work?"

"Anything but that."

"You should probably give me your resignation before you leave. In case you decide not to come back." She could at least try not to get entangled in a paperwork nightmare.

The waitress brought them their drinks, and Jane took a sip of his tea with a sigh of relief. "I am coming back. Even if you decide not to marry me, I will come back to try to change your mind."

"But not to work at the CBI?"

"That's one of the things I have to figure out. I imagine it will depend on whether we're allowed to work together while married, or whether I think I can change your mind by reminding you how clever I am and how much you like having me around, though you'd rather eat dirt than admit it."

She fiddled with one of her empty sugar packets. "I do like having you around. Why else would I be so unhappy that you're leaving?"

"You could come with me. Nobody can deny that you're due a vacation, Lisbon."

"I thought you needed time alone to think."

"I do."

"And I wouldn't be a distraction?"

He grimaced. "You would be an enormous distraction. But I imagine we could set aside some time to climb out of bed, get dressed, and go to separate rooms to think about our future."

"You're so full of it," she grinned, suddenly struck by how funny his idea was. "You'd go in the next room and think about how long you had to stay in there until you could come interrupt me. You'd do absolutely no thinking with your big head."

He grinned. "True. Maybe we could go on a vacation after I'm all done thinking. Or are you going to make me wait until the honeymoon?"

No matter how this turned out, she realized, a sexy getaway with Jane was not something she wanted to miss out on. "Let me know when you're done thinking and I'll try to get away. Where do you think you'll go? A beach somewhere?"

"I was thinking Mexico, or maybe farther south," he said. "Someplace where I won't have to hear or read about him."

She nodded. That sounded fantastic, actually. She was dreading the cleanup.

"I know my phone might not work there," he added. "But if that's the case, I'll get another one and call you with the number."

"Thank you." She was relieved to know that his idea of keeping in touch went beyond the occasional postcard.

"Lisbon." He reached across the table and took her hand. "This is not me leaving you. I just need to go clear my head, and I can't do that here. Part of me doesn't want to go, because staying here with you would be so much more pleasant. But I know I need to. I need to do this for me, but also for you, because you deserve all the stability I can muster."

"I want you to do what you need to do," she said, making sure to hold eye contact so he could see she was telling him the truth. "But I'll miss you."

"Not half as much as I'll miss you."

The waitress brought their food, and Lisbon tried to lighten the atmosphere after she'd eaten a few bites. "You won't miss me at all. An hour after you land, every single woman in the place will be following you around. And they'll probably be nicer to you than I am."

"True," he said, pretending to seriously consider it. Then he gave her a sober look. "But none of them will love me like you do."

"No," she sighed. It was long past time to admit it, wasn't it? "I can't imagine anyone else ever loving you like I do." Beyond all hope, she thought. All these years, she had loved him without any expectation that it would be returned or lead to anything but grief. No wonder she was a little freaked out that he was talking about marriage. Was it weird to flinch away from her happy ending just because it had taken her so completely by surprise?

Jane looked at her closely for a minute, then pulled the ring out of his vest pocket and handed it to her. "You don't need to wear it," he said. "But I want you to hang onto it. It's my promise that I'm coming back, and that I won't decide I prefer one of these hordes of women you think I attract. In return, I'd like you to seriously think about whether you want to spend the rest of your life with me. We don't need to get married if you object to the institution or something. But I want us to be very clear where we stand with each other. I'm tired of not knowing."

She took the ring, noticing how it sparkled in the sunlight coming through the blinds. "You haven't always known?" she asked, surprised. "I guess I thought you could tell what I was thinking. You always say you can."

"Not always. I knew that you wanted me, but I didn't know if you'd ever allow yourself to have me, whether because of the job, or the fact that I still wear my ring, or some other reason you'd think up."

She'd slept with a man wearing a wedding ring, she realized, her eyes going to it. It was so much a part of him that she hadn't noticed he hadn't taken it off.

"One of the things I need to do is learn how to stop wearing it," he said softly.

"I wish I had something to give you to take with you," she said. "But maybe that would just be a distraction too."

He shook his head. "Let me see you wearing the ring," he said. "I want to see how it looks on your hand. I'll tuck that away in my memory palace and pull it out when I need something to make me happy."

She slid the ring onto her left ring finger, overwhelmed by her emotional reaction to it. Just putting it on felt like a promise.

Jane picked up her hand and smiled as he kissed it. "Thank you. That does make me happy."

She decided to leave it on for the moment. It was probably safer on her hand than in her pocket, after all.

They didn't talk as they finished their meal. When the check came, Lisbon made a valiant grab for it, but Jane snatched it out of her reach. "Consider this a date," he grinned.

When he'd finished paying, they left, walking slowly back to the car. Lisbon felt her heart actually aching as she realized they were getting closer to saying good-bye.

"I think you should drop me off at the gate. I'll get my car and go. I don't really want to see anybody. You'll tell the others I've gone off to think, and I'll send them a postcard, won't you?"

She nodded.

"I know you don't want anybody at CBI knowing we're involved, so we should say good-bye here," he continued.

She nodded again, her throat closing. He walked with her to the driver's side door, where they wouldn't be seen from the diner. Then he slid his hands into her hair and kissed her, lovingly and leisurely, like they had all the time in the world. When the tears began to slide down her cheeks, he wiped them away with his thumbs.

"I'm coming back," he whispered against her lips. "And you can call me. Anytime. For any reason, or no reason at all. I consider myself engaged to you, so I want to know what's happening in your life. All right?"

"Okay," she whispered. "Call me, or text me, so I know you're somewhere safe tonight."

"I will. Tonight and every night until I see you again, I'll let you know I'm safe."

She put her arms around him and hugged, trying to breathe rather than sob. He held her for a few minutes, then pulled back to look at her.

"I love you," he said solemnly.

"I love you too," she managed to choke out, trying to smile.

He kissed her again, then opened the car door for her. Once they were in the car, he reached for her hand and didn't let go until they had reached the CBI building.

"I'll be back before you know it," he assured her, smiling as he opened the door.

"I'll miss you," she replied, blinking back a fresh wave of tears so she wouldn't lose her last sight of him. "Be safe."

"You too." He closed the car door and gave her a little wave, smiling confidently.

But when she looked in her rearview mirror as she drove on, she saw his expression change to the same one she was sure was on her face. Come home soon, she thought.

She parked and took the ring off. She couldn't wear it at work, but she wanted to keep it close, so she tucked it in her pocket. She would keep it with her as a reminder that he'd promised to come back, but she wouldn't consider it an engagement ring until he actually did.

And if he did, she hoped, she'd be ready to give him the answer he wanted.