A/N: Two chapters in two minutes!! Woohoo! *dances* This one...it gets a little...er...steamy... near the end. And it's a bit short. Hope you like it anyway! That goes for you, too, Mom. I love you!!
Disclaimer: I went shopping on Saturday, but the mall I went to didn't have the rights to The Mentalist. So I now own a Moulin Rouge movie poster, but not The Mentalist. I will continue searching (fruitlessly)!
Warning: OOC, language, and lotsa fluff!
When Lisbon had gotten out of the bathroom, Jane was nowhere in sight. Immediately, two reasons popped into her head: he had left because Van Pelt had called with a new lead, or he had left because he'd been afraid that if he stayed much longer, he would do something he would regret. Where the second option had come from, she had no clue, but she wasn't going to dwell on it much. Wrapped in a towel, she went to her unpacked suitcase and began digging through it for clothes.
Someone clearing their throat made her whip around and almost forget to hold onto the towel. Luckily, she didn't, because Jane was standing behind her in the entrance to the room's kitchen. Mortified, she blushed brightly and pulled the towel tighter around her.
"Just give me a minute," she said, "and then we can talk."
Jane approached her, and as he got closer, Lisbon noticed that same hungry look in his eyes, which were roaming over her body. She pulled the towel tighter still. This was not good.
The next words out of his mouth shocked her. "I don't want to talk." It wasn't just what he said; it was the way he said it. He walked closer to her, and she moved away.
"Patrick Jane doesn't want to talk about how his boss burst into tears twice today," Lisbon said, trying to distract him. The backs of her legs hit something: the bed. Shit. She was trapped.
"No. We'll talk later. Right now…" He put a hand on her waist and pulled her against him. "Right now, I have a question."
"What?" Her voice was a squeak, her hands clutching the towel as if it were her lifeline, which, in this case, it was.
"Do you want me to get out, right now, and pretend that this didn't happen?" His calm gaze held her petrified one. "Tell the truth. I won't be hurt."
Lisbon thought about it. She knew he would be hurt if she said "yes," but did she really want him to go? And if she said "no," was she—were they—willing to face the consequences?
Her mind flashed back to ten years ago. She was in a hotel room, much like the one she was in now, in this exact situation… with Daren. And when he asked her if she wanted him to leave, she instantly said, "Yes." Now look what had happened to him. He was dead. He was dead. She would never be able to apologize to him for what she did to him.
She wasn't about to let it happen again. She didn't want Jane to leave, not now, not ever. And she needed comfort: he was willing to provide it, if only for the moment.
Her mind finally made up, she pulled away from him. The hurt in Jane's eyes disappeared when Lisbon let go of the towel, allowing it to fall to the floor. Their lips met, their bodies melding themselves to each other. Lisbon knew she hadn't made the wrong choice. This was what she wanted, what she had secretly wished for since they had kissed in the car. And she was relieved when Jane didn't break the kiss to say, "Your wish is my command." But it would come later.
Much later.
A/N: Please review, my loyal followers! :)
