A/N: Thanks for the reviews! Wow. Ego boost.
Yes, this is the first story I have ever written in my life. Well, first anything I have written since University essays a decade ago! I don't actually know how to, but I'm having a lot of fun! This writing thing is hard work, who knew?! Thank you for the votes of confidence. I'm going to go hide now.

Patrick slept a little. Not as much as he was hoping but more than he thought he would, given his extreme anxiety at the current situation. Upon his first moment of waking, he had been struck by two things almost simultaneously. Firstly, ouch, should he ever in future consider again physical pursuits that involved running, climbing and jumping, he should absolutely reconsider considering it. Unless it was for Teresa. Which it was, making that first thought moot. And secondly, probably more importantly, Teresa's hair smelled like lavender.

Opening his eyes, he surveyed his current predicament. It was unexpected only in that he had intended to keep his distance, not that it was unusual for people sharing a bed to cuddle. Which they were. Both were underneath the bedspread, but Lisbon who was underneath some extra layers of bedding had pushed them down to her waist. Or he had, during the night. Sleep Jane might have bravado that awake Jane did not. Not when it came to this. He had both arms wrapped around Lisbon's back. Well. Okay. One hand on her back. The other snaked down under the blankets to firmly grasp her behind through her silky nightgown. Sleep Jane obviously had game, pressing her tightly into his chest. Sleep Lisbon, still asleep, had one hand wound into his hair, her face snuggled into his throat. Her lips were pressed against his pulse point.

Best way to wake up ever, and he was definitely... ready...
But Awake Jane wasn't bold enough for, uh, whatever this was. It was nice though, beyond nice, exciting, having desires and sexual feelings. He hadn't allowed himself to indulge in a very long time, and now? He supposed he was allowed to, though he didn't quite know what that meant. He did allow himself to fondle Teresa's buttocks though. Just a small squeeze and Sleep Lisbon sighed and kissed his throat. Her breasts were crushed against his chest and he was aroused and she was so- ugh, asleep. He didn't want to take advantage of her while she was unconscious. He took his hand out from under the blankets, pulling his head back to shake her grip from his curls. She mumbled gently and rolled over onto her back, not waking.

Jane left the bedroom, still limpy. He considered filling the prescription for painkillers he received at the hospital the day before but that would involve finding a 24 hour chemist, seeing as it was - he checked his watch - 4:24am presently, and that seemed like a lot of effort. So, instead, he showered, putting on fresh clothes, a subtly different-patterned shirt to the one he'd just removed. He rolled up the sleeves, forgoing a belt with his clean trousers and opted to remain barefoot.

Room service started at 5, and shortly thereafter he was devouring eggs and sipping tea while reading the newspaper. A distraction, while he figured out what was meant to happen today. Yesterday was like a fantasy. Both wrapped in a bubble of silliness, and as they'd dealt with their inhibitions with more and more alcohol as the night wore on, everything became a bit fluffy and funny and hazy, dreamlike and wonderful. But today? Well today there was sobriety of multiple kinds, and Jane wasn't certain Teresa wouldn't come to her senses and leave him.
He mindlessly tore up the financial pages of the paper, folding and twisting strips of newspaper into the shapes of flowers, before looping them together, feeding one into the next, interlocked in a circle.

Another hour, maybe two, passed, and Patrick grew restless waiting for Teresa to wake up, maybe throw him out of the hotel room. No, she wouldn't do that, but in the harsh light of a new day...
He called down to room service again, had them send up peppermint tea and some extra strong coffee, a blueberry muffin, fruit salad and three poppyseed bagels. He pushed the cart with his acquired bounty into the bedroom, refusing to linger in the doorway. If he stopped and thought about it too hard he would lose his nerve, slink back out to the sofa. Removing the mug of coffee from the tray, he put it on Lisbon's bedside table and fetched the three bagels before clambering up on the bed beside her curled form. She was facing away from him and he sat next to her atop the bedding.

"If you insist!" he announced.
Lisbon's eyes fluttered open, focusing on the coffee in front of her. "What?"
"I know. It seemed weird to me too," he agreed conversationally, patting Lisbon's shoulder.
Lisbon rolled onto her back. It was much too early for Jane to be... Jane. "What?", she repeated. He looked especially cheerful, sitting cross legged with pastry foods in his hands.
"Are you watching? Because there's no point me doing this if you're not watching. I'm doing this for you, you know. I'm not a hot and cold running performing monkey, you know."
"Jane. Have you gone insane? What time is it?"
"Almost 8. Now watch." He tossed the three bagels high into the air, one after the other, in a slow loping figure eight shape before catching them deftly with the opposing hand, sending them back into the air.
Lisbon groaned. "Seriously, Jane."
"It's not really my specialty, but anybody can do it. Don't worry, you'll be a juggling maestro in no time." He tossed one bagel particularly high in the air from behind his back and then caught it in his mouth. "Ta-da!", muffled around so much dough, he grinned.
Lisbon smiled back at him, his obnoxiousness playfully charming, damn him, and she reached for her coffee as he devoured chunks of bagel.
"I think my hands are too small to learn to juggle with bagels."
"Mmm," he thought this through. "Perhaps, but if I had brought you balls to play with you'd accuse me of spouting innuendo."