Disclaimers, etc., in part 1.
A/N: The votes for periodic updates won the poll hands down, so I will try to give you one new chapter every time I finish one. The plot of this story is not case driven so hopefully I will have fewer opportunities to write myself into plot holes I can't go back and fix later. :) Thanks for reading, and hope you enjoy this chapter!
xxx
Jane had another nightmare that night. Like the first night, he woke up thrashing about and calling her name.
Lisbon wasn't sure what might have triggered it. He hadn't had any nightmares during their time in Monterey. The interviews with Russo's people, perhaps? She'd been so relieved when Jane had told her he wanted to continue working with the CBI, but maybe it wasn't such a great idea after all. At least, not until all this stuff with the Red John case had blown over, anyway. She wanted him to stay, but not at the cost of losing more sleep. He'd already lost enough sleep to last a lifetime.
Lisbon herself had dreamt about Russo's hands closing around her neck several times since that day in the Red Room, but the dreams hadn't been enough to wake her and as far as she knew, hadn't disturbed Jane's rest. Those dreams had been tangled up in other confused and disjointed dreams about her family and the team. She'd found herself dreaming a lot more about her mother since the whole ordeal with Russo, but she didn't count that as a bad thing. She always liked dreaming about her mother, even if the dreams weren't strictly speaking happy dreams. They made her feel closer to her, somehow. Occasionally in her waking life she worried she was forgetting her mother, that her memories had blurred around the edges over the years. The dreams reassured her that her memories were more firmly rooted than she sometimes feared.
She comforted Jane as best she could after his bad dream. Her presence seemed to soothe him, which was good. After he'd calmed down, he fell asleep with his head pillowed on her breast and his ear over her heart. He slept soundly the rest of the night. Lisbon, on the other hand, lay awake for a long time afterwards, stroking the curls at the back of his neck as she thought about family, fear, and dreams.
She woke after Jane the next day, cranky and irritable at the prospect at spending a whole day in court on less than a full night's sleep.
When she went downstairs, she found Jane at her kitchen table, cutting up her newspaper.
"What are you doing?" she asked grouchily, fumbling for the coffee maker.
Jane handed her a cup of already made coffee and held up the section of newspaper he'd cut out with her kitchen scissors. It was a picture of the two of them. "Cutting out clippings for our scrapbook."
Lisbon stared at the picture. "What the hell is that?"
"We made the front page," Jane informed her. "Above the fold and everything."
"Are you kidding me?" Lisbon said incredulously. She took a healthy slug of the coffee to fortify herself and paused. Damn, that was good. Apparently in addition to the rest of his considerable talents, Jane was also capable of making the perfect cup of coffee.
"I'm afraid not. It's a good picture, though. I'm glad to have one of both of us together." He grinned at her. Unlike her, he didn't seem any the worse for the wear after his nightmare last night. "Our first picture as a couple."
"Give me that." Lisbon sat down at the kitchen table and snatched the photograph from him.
She recognized the shirt she had been wearing yesterday and Jane's familiar gray suit. The photograph had been taken by one of the reporters Jane had helped her escape, just before they'd gotten into the waiting cab. They were looking at each other with an intensity she was uncomfortable seeing displayed before her own eyes, let alone before the eyes of every person in the state with a subscription to the Sacramento Bee.
She set the photograph aside and picked up the mangled newspaper that had produced this damning evidence. The headline read "Husband and Father of Red John Victims Thanks CBI Agent for Heroism."
"Can't say I think much of the headline," Jane commented. "A bit wordy. They should have just called me 'Devastatingly handsome consultant.' The story's not bad, though. My favorite part is where you deny being in love with Rigsby."
Oh, Lord. Lisbon scanned through the article and groaned. "It says I was 'visibly shaken' when asked about being tortured by Red John."
"That's just because they don't know you like I do," Jane assured her, getting up to retrieve something from the kitchen. "They don't know that it was just because you were more afraid of them than you were of Russo. How would they know you'd rather face actual torture than a crowd of reporters?"
Lisbon made a face at him. She put the paper down and took another sip of her coffee. "I didn't know you could make coffee," she said. "This is really good."
He shrugged, setting a plate of eggs and fruit in front of her. "I'm a quick study," he said with a smile. "Besides, this way I can be assured no one is poisoning you right under my nose."
His tone was light, but that line of tension she'd noticed the day before was strung across his shoulders again when he referenced Russo poisoning her.
She regarded him over the top of her mug. "You okay?"
His smile faded. He knew what she was really asking. He looked down. "Yeah."
"You want to talk about it?"
He shrugged and sat back down across from her. "Nothing much to tell. The dreams aren't new. I've been having them a long time now."
"I knew you didn't sleep well, but I thought when you had nightmares—I thought they were about your wife and daughter," she said haltingly. "The ones you had before, I mean."
He shook his head. "Not always. They've been about you more and more the longer I've known you. Sometimes, all three of you are in them together. Or you and Angela are together and he's going after both of you."
Lisbon had no idea what to say to that.
"It's better now than it used to be, actually," he hastened to add, trying to reassure her. "Having you next to me helps. I used to never be able to fall asleep again after I had one. Just knowing you're there lets me relax enough to fall asleep again. I used to have to wait until the next morning to make sure you were all right."
And before that, there was no comfort to be had at all, she thought sadly. "You could have called me, you know," she said softly.
He looked away. "I didn't want to disturb you."
"I wouldn't have minded," she insisted.
He smiled a little at this. "You would have grumbled and scolded me for waking you up in the middle of the night."
"Well—maybe the first time," she acknowledged. "But I wouldn't have if you told me why."
He met her eyes. "No. Our fearless leader, always willing to help a friend in need."
"But you never let me help you," she said, frustrated. No matter what she did, he never let her in.
He reached out and covered her hand with his own. "You helped more than you know, my dear. You can't possibly imagine how much."
She turned her hand under his and laced her fingers through his. "If there's ever anything I can do…"
Jane's expression turned thoughtful. "Come to think of it, I'm feeling a bit vulnerable at the moment." He gave her a slow, sly smile. "Perhaps we could go back upstairs and you could comfort me the same way you did that first night?"
She rolled her eyes and released his hand. Of course he would choose this moment to tease her. "I don't think so. You seem to be back to your usual self."
"No, really," he said, pointedly craning his neck to look down her shirt. "I'm desperately in need of comfort, Lisbon."
"I'll comfort you later," Lisbon said, returning her attention to her breakfast. "Right now I have to get ready to go to work."
When she'd finished her breakfast, she went to the sink to wash her dishes. Jane followed her into the kitchen. "Want to carpool?" he said hopefully, coming up behind her and hooking his chin over her shoulder as he wrapped his arms around her. "Be friends of the environment, and all that?"
Lisbon shook her head as she rinsed out her mug, enjoying his warmth at her back. "I have to go straight to court. I'll see you at the office later this afternoon."
"If you're going to leave me alone all day again, I'm going to have to insist on a proper farewell," Jane informed her, turning her in his arms to face him. "Not like yesterday, when you ran off to meet with Bertram for hours without so much as a by your leave. Ordering me to interview Russo's helpers on your way out the door does not constitute a proper good-bye."
Lisbon rolled her eyes. "What do you expect, a shower of balloons and confetti?"
In response, Jane bent her backwards over his arm, which was a completely ridiculous thing to do. He kept her suspended there for an instant, looking into her eyes. Startled, her breath caught in her throat as she looked up at him. Then he lowered his mouth to hers and proceeded to kiss her to within an inch of her life.
When he set her back on her feet several long and very satisfying minutes later, he smirked at her. "Well, it's not balloons and confetti, but it will do."
Lisbon, somewhat dazed, shook her head. Ridiculous man. Still, she reflected, all in all, she supposed the morning wasn't off to such a bad start after all.
Xxx
Lisbon had a long day in court and didn't get back to the CBI until four o clock. She hated being in court all day. She wouldn't mind it so much, but all the time spent waiting around between the times she actually had to talk drove her crazy. The lawyers didn't like you to leave once they'd gotten you there, and the judges didn't allow cell phones in the courtrooms, so she couldn't even catch up with the still significant backlog of emails on her Blackberry. At least she'd thought to bring some of her files with her so she could review them during the breaks. She stepped off the elevator when she got back to the office with a feeling of relief. She couldn't believe she was going to have to go through at least two more weeks of this. At least the team was able to keep making progress in her absence. She dumped her stuff in her office and then went out to the bullpen to ask Cho how the interviews were coming along.
Before she could even open her mouth to ask, however, she was distracted by the sight of an unfamiliar object on Jane's desk. The desk he never used.
"What the hell is that?" she demanded.
Jane, stretched out on the couch as usual, cracked an eye open to follow her horrified gaze. "It's a photograph." In fact, it was the photograph of the two of them he'd cut out of her newspaper that morning. He'd managed to find a simple black frame somewhere and had placed the newspaper clipping inside it. The frame was now resting on his desk, angled towards his couch so he had a clear line of sight to the thing from where his head most often rested, on the arm of the couch closest to the rest of the bullpen.
"I can see that," she snapped. "What the hell is it doing there?"
Jane looked at the photograph with fondness, a small smile playing about the corner of his lips. "Bringing warmth and joy to my workspace."
"Well, get rid of it," she ordered.
He looked back at her. "Why should I?"
Because her feelings for him were all but tattooed on her forehead in that photograph, right where anyone could see them. "Because I said so."
"Why do you want me to get rid of it? It's a good picture."
Lisbon scowled. "It's not professional."
"This photograph was taken in a public place, in our capacity as official representatives of the CBI," he pointed out. "Sounds perfectly professional to me."
She glanced at the photograph again, hating the sight of the intimacy between them displayed so brazenly for all to see. "Well, it's not."
"It was taken by a reporter and appeared with an article about how great the CBI and the senior agent of its Serious Crimes Unit are," he argued. "Just think of it as promotional literature."
Lisbon ground her teeth. "I'm not kidding, Jane."
"We could get headshots of the rest of the team and post them around the rest of the office to even things out, if you like," he offered. "I bet it would really brighten the place up."
"I don't care what you do as long as you get that thing out of the bullpen," Lisbon retorted.
"Jane's right, boss," Van Pelt piped up timidly. "It was taken while you guys were on the job, so what's the harm?"
"Exactly," Jane said, nodding in approval. "It's not like we're making out in it."
Lisbon ignored the traitorous Van Pelt and glared at him. "You're not helping your case."
"I'm being discriminated against," Jane protested. "It's completely unfair. If Cho had a picture of his girlfriend on his desk, you'd never object to that."
"That's completely different," she snapped. Jane's tacit allusion to her as his girlfriend made her feel like she'd been hit on the funny bone with a hammer. She grimaced. She'd always hated that word. And she couldn't call Jane her boyfriend. She just couldn't.
Jane laid his head back down on the couch and closed his eyes. "I'm not taking the photograph down, Lisbon. Get used to it."
She considered snatching the thing off his desk and throwing it out the window. She was sure it would make a satisfying crash when it smashed against the pavement below. She restrained herself, however. With her luck, she'd probably hit some poor unsuspecting passerby and get the CBI sued. It might have been worth it, but after the day she'd had, she really didn't want to have to go back to court again. "I'm going to my office now," she said. "If you don't get rid of that thing by the time I come back out here, I will make you regret it."
She stalked towards her office, passing by Rigsby and Cho. Rigsby, who had prudently remained silent during this entire exchange, was now smirking at Cho in satisfaction. "Pay up, my friend."
Cho wordlessly dug out a five dollar bill from his wallet and handed it to him.
"Cho, why are you giving Rigsby money?" she asked crossly.
"Lost a bet," he said gravely. "I thought for sure you were going to throw the photo out the window."
"It's not too late," she muttered. "Keep your money. If that thing isn't gone by the time I come back, it's going out the window for sure." She'd just have to aim carefully to avoid hitting anyone below.
Xxx
Lisbon had every intention of barricading herself in her office for the next several hours and refusing to come out no matter what certain consultants might do to persuade her otherwise. Unfortunately, she was only back in her office for a half an hour before she realized she hadn't actually gotten around to asking Cho about the interviews, which was the whole reason she'd gone out to the bullpen in the first place. She re-emerged rather reluctantly, as she hadn't entirely decided what she would do if Jane hadn't done as she asked and removed the photograph from his desk. The thought of smashing it into a thousand pieces was still appealing, but it dimly registered that Jane's feelings would probably be hurt if she actively destroyed something which was apparently rather important to him. She didn't want to hurt him if she could help it, especially after the debacle of yesterday's Thanksgiving conversation, so now she was in a bit of a quandary. Issuing threats was useless if you weren't willing to follow through with them. She was going to have to figure out some other way of making him regret it if he hadn't obeyed her order to get rid of the thing.
Fortunately, the photograph was no longer on the desk when she cautiously approached the bullpen. She quietly asked Cho for a status update, which he provided in his usual businesslike manner. After receiving the information she needed, she risked a glance at Jane.
He was still stretched out on the couch with his eyes closed. Apparently, he had decided to ensure the safety of his precious photograph by tucking it under his jacket; the cloth was draped strangely over his chest where the angles of the frame stuck out. Relieved, she headed back to her office to hunker down to work again.
At the stroke of five, Jane came in and tried to get her to leave, just as he had the day before. When she flatly refused, he shrugged and took up residence on her couch again. She was starting to realize he intended to make this a habit. She managed to convince him to let her stay until eight that night by promising to leave at five on Friday and not take any work home with her over the weekend. Sheesh. She hadn't realized how much negotiating she'd have to do once she agreed to start having a life.
With a few hours where she was unable to work uninterrupted, Lisbon was able to clear quite a bit of her backlog. She packed up her things for the evening feeling much more calm about all that needed to be done than she had since she'd first come into work the day before.
When she was done, they walked out to the parking lot together, Jane's hand resting comfortably at its usual place at the small of her back. That really never got old, she thought, leaning into him ever so slightly. He'd been doing that for ten years now, and it was still simultaneously comforting and thrilling, just as it always had been. Possibly even more thrilling these days, since it now came with the possibility of more.
"Do you want to come over to the hotel tonight?" Jane asked conversationally as he walked her to her car. "I could run you another bath, if you want."
Lisbon's mind immediately detoured to her previous imaginings about bath time with Jane, wondering if this might be an opportunity to use the art of negotiation to her advantage for once. Despite this enticing possibility, she found herself hesitating, thinking of all that gilt and hand-carved mahogany. "Oh… I don't know," she said awkwardly.
"Or I can come over to your place," he said quickly. "Either way is fine with me."
Lisbon blew out a breath. "You don't mind?"
"Certainly I don't mind," he assured her. "All I care about is being with you. The location is utterly unimportant to me."
She really had no idea why she couldn't say the same. What the hell was the matter with her? She should be jumping at the chance to sleep in that amazing bed again. And do other things in that amazing bed again. "Okay. Let's meet at my place, then."
"Very well." He gave her a peck on the lips. "But tomorrow we really ought to carpool. I don't like being separated from you at every turn."
Like spending at least two-thirds of every twenty four hour period together constituted 'being separated at every turn.' "I have to go to court again tomorrow," she reminded him.
"It makes so much more sense to drive home together," he argued. "In the morning, one of us can drop the other off first before continuing on to his or her ultimate destination."
"It's more efficient in the morning if we drive separately," Lisbon pointed out.
"But if we're in the same car, I can put my hand on your knee," Jane said, as though this were a perfectly logical argument in his favor. "To make up for all this tedious time you're spending in court without me."
"Sounds distracting," Lisbon commented, thinking of Jane's warm hand on her leg while she was trying to concentrate on the road.
"It's a longstanding dream of mine. But if you feel that it would be too distracting, you can put your hand on my knee, instead," he offered magnanimously.
"I'm sure we can work something out," she said. She might not mind being a little distracted before another long day in court.
"Excellent. I'll drop you off at court on my way to the CBI."
"As long as you don't make me late," Lisbon agreed. She did want to be a friend to the environment, after all.
Xxx
After they'd eaten, Lisbon licked her spoon clean of the ice cream Jane had provided for dessert. She really needed to get back into her normal exercise routine if she was going to let him keep feeding her like this, she reflected. Relying on athletic sex alone to burn calories wasn't going to cut it if she wanted to keep fitting into those fancy jeans he had bought for her.
Jane sat back and watched her. "So," he said. "Are you going to tell me why you were so upset about me bringing that photograph to work?"
She sighed, and set down her spoon. "Look, it's not—I'm just sensitive to broadcasting our personal relationship around the office, okay?"
"Why? Everyone in the building already knows we're together."
"I'm aware of that," Lisbon said. She still couldn't quite believe she'd actually made out with him in front of over two dozen fellow law enforcement officers. "But there's a difference between not hiding a relationship and actively advertising it."
He raised an eyebrow. "You sure you're not trying to hide the relationship? Nobody would blame you for wanting to hide the fact that you've taken up with the likes of me."
"No," she said fiercely. "I'm not ashamed to be with you, and I have no intention of denying the fact that we're in a relationship to anyone who asks. It's just that at work, I prefer not to call unnecessary attention to the fact that I'm sleeping with my consultant."
Jane's jaw tightened at this characterization of their relationship. "There's nothing in that photograph that indicates we're sleeping together."
"It's not about the photograph itself," Lisbon said, exasperated. "The fact that you put it in a frame on your desk is what creates the implication. People only put photographs on their desks at work of people they're involved with in their personal lives."
"Well, so what? Like I said, everyone already knows we're together."
Lisbon struggled to come up with words to make him understand. "Jane, do you know how many senior agents in the CBI are women?"
"No," he admitted. "I don't really pay attention to the other units if I don't have to."
"One," she informed him. "I'm the only one."
He frowned. "What's your point?"
"The point is, despite all the progress women have made in the last half a century, law enforcement is still pretty much a good old boys club. It's still far too easy for a woman to be labeled emotional or bitchy when she does something the good old boys don't like."
"This is the twenty-first century," he protested. "People can't possibly still think like that."
"Believe it, Jane. If a woman sleeps with someone on the job, people automatically question her credibility."
"No one thinks that you slept your way to the top, Lisbon," Jane said, indignant. "The idea is completely ludicrous."
"No," she said quietly. "But lots of people think I let you get away with all your crap because I have feelings for you." That was hard to admit, because she sometimes feared it was true.
Jane snorted. "Those people have never heard you yelling at me at a crime scene."
"You take my point, though."
Jane wasn't having it. "You don't let me get away with anything! You're the only one who can even remotely get me to behave. Just ask Bertram. I told him, you're a moderating influence on me. I choose to reign myself in because I respect you and value your opinion. I'd like to see one of the good old boys try to handle me better than you do," he huffed. "I'd have them begging for mercy before lunchtime."
"Jane, I don't want you to make a big deal of this," Lisbon said, trying to bring him back to the topic at hand. "I'm just trying to explain why I didn't want the photograph in the office."
Jane grunted in acknowledgment and she went on. "Look, maybe I was a bit harsh, earlier. I don't want you to feel hurt by me asking you this. I want you to know that if we didn't work at the same office, I'd think it was sweet that you wanted to put a photo of us on your desk. Okay?"
Jane was silent for a moment. Too long a moment.
Lisbon peered at him closely. He had his scheming face on. "You're trying to figure out a plot to destroy anyone who says anything to me about our relationship, aren't you?" she said, exasperated.
"Maybe," he said guiltily.
"I don't need you to rescue me, Jane," she said sourly. "All I'm asking is that you not make a blatant display of our relationship at the office. That's not so hard, is it?"
Jane looked unhappy, but she could tell he was carefully considering what she'd said. "You shouldn't have to feel that our relationship undermines your professionalism."
"Yeah, well, you're not going to be able to trick the misogyny out of the people who would make me feel that way, so there's not a lot you can do about it."
Jane looked unconvinced. Great. Now she was going to have to deal with Jane trying to orchestrate some kind of feminist vendetta against every old school cop in the bureau. She considered this. On the other hand, you really couldn't have too many people fighting that battle, so maybe she should just let him plot.
She could actually see his thoughts derail from his plot as another thought flitted across his face, and she marveled that she could actually read him, for once. His brows came together and he frowned at his empty ice cream bowl.
"Now what are you thinking?" Lisbon prodded.
"I'm not one of those guys, am I?" he asked abruptly.
"What are you talking about?" she asked, honestly confused.
"I realized I have kind of a cave man instinct when it comes to you."
Lisbon raised her eyebrows. "A cave man instinct?" Patrick Jane of the three piece suits as a cave man was difficult to imagine.
"I was thinking about how one of the reasons I'm so happy that we're finally together is that I don't have to continue to come up with complex plots to discourage other men from hitting on you."
"Continue to come up with complex plots to discourage men from hitting on me?" Lisbon asked, startled. "Since when have you plotted to prevent people from hitting on me?"
"Since always," Jane said, as though this were a completely uninteresting side note rather than an earth-shattering revelation. "My point is, I've been very pleased to finally be able to claim you as my own. I was just wondering if the photograph was an unconscious effort to stake my claim on you. But then, isn't that part of what you're talking about? Men trying to claim women as property?"
Lisbon sighed. "I don't think this is an exact science, Jane. I think it's natural to want to 'stake your claim,' as you put it, if someone else is trying to hit on the person you're with." Reluctantly, she admitted, "I'd be jealous if someone was hitting on you."
Jane looked unconvinced.
She reached out and covered his hand with hers. "For what it's worth, I would never think you were trying to claim me as your property. You aren't like that. I know that if you act protective of me, it's because you care for me and want to keep me from harm, not because you don't think I'm capable of taking care of myself. You see me as a whole person, and that's the way you've always treated me. I don't have to be any one thing when I'm with you, because all you want me to do is be myself." It was one of the things that had made her fall in love with him in the first place.
Jane was still frowning. "I hate that you feel like you have to downplay your personal life so you can be effective in your job. You're so much more than the job, Lisbon. I hope you know that."
"Look, Jane, I know that for you, this job is just a way to pass the time," she said, looking down. "But it means something to me. I want people to take me seriously. I don't want them thinking of me as a woman who's sleeping with her consultant. I want people to think of me as a good agent and a capable leader. Anything else is a distraction that prevents us from doing our jobs and putting away as many bad guys as possible. Can you understand that?"
Jane gave her a long, hard look. "I understand that you're an extraordinary woman, Teresa Lisbon," he said finally. "And that I am extraordinarily lucky to know you."
Lisbon blushed. "You're not so bad yourself." Honesty compelled her to add, "You know, most of the time, anyway."
He grinned.
Lisbon got up to do the dishes, relieved that peace had been restored between them yet again. Jane helped her carry them to the sink. "You know, if you wanted to put something else on your desk, I wouldn't mind," Lisbon offered hesitantly as she started in on the plates.
He considered this. "No. But I would like a picture of the two of us—one that is taken voluntarily, I mean. Perhaps I could keep it in my wallet."
Lisbon grimaced. She hated having her picture taken, but she figured she could probably accommodate him on this point after the fuss she'd made over the other photo. "Fine."
He smiled. "I'll hold you to that. Perhaps you'll even favor me with a smile for the occasion."
She made a face and threw a dishtowel at him.
He picked it up and started drying the dishes she'd already washed. She cast a sidelong glance at him, then asked, "Would you think I was a terrible hypocrite if I wanted to put something on my desk?"
He looked pleased. "Not at all. What did you have in mind?"
"I was thinking maybe I could find something to put all those shells you gave me into," she said shyly.
His face lit up. "Really?"
She shrugged, feigning nonchalance. "It's not like I have anything better to do with them."
He leaned over and kissed her. "I would be honored."
After he released her, she looked down at the dishes in the sink. "I'm sorry if I overreacted this afternoon. It's just—I'm used to you knowing what I do or don't like without me actually having to tell you. So when you do something in opposition to what I want, I guess I just assume you are deliberately doing it to mess with me. Either that, or you just don't care what I think and have decided to do what you want no matter what I have to say about it. I guess now I default to shouting just to get you to listen."
Jane winced. "I guess I deserve that. How about this—I won't be offended if you keep yelling at me on instinct, as long as you explain the underlying cause of your grievance after the fact, if needed."
"Deal," Lisbon agreed.
"Of course, that won't be necessary if I really am just messing with you," Jane went on. "I'll already know the root cause of your annoyance in those cases."
She scowled. "You could just stop messing with me for your own amusement."
"I can't help it. You're so fun to watch when you're worked up about something."
She grabbed another dishtowel and swatted him with it.
"You've got to admit it's a good picture of us, though," Jane said a minute later.
Lisbon thought about the way they were looking at each other in the photograph, as though they were oblivious to everyone and everything else around them. "Yeah," she agreed. "It is."