A/N: Thanks to anyone who keeps favoring and following me and the story; you guys are amazing! I should have answered to any registered users by now, if I didn't, I'm sorry, and remember you are always in my thoughts and I am ever grateful for your support.
The car suddenly stopped, and Lisbon, on autopilot, reached for her gun; after the last few days, and the two attempts on Jane's life – and her own, by extension- she didn't trust anything any longer; she was always wary and on edge, ready to answer. The first few days had been hell for her, when she didn't trust even her shadow any longer, and acted like a scared child, like a trembling little rabbit.
Well, no more. She thought. She didn't know how long they were going to be in that position, nor exactly what Jane's plan was, but she had all the intentions of getting her life back together. It wasn't just about her job, it was… everything. She had craved normalcy her whole life, and right when she had found her routine, someone had messed it up for her. She wondered if it was, deep, deep down, all her fault. If she had done as she had been asked as a young woman, Angela would have never stepped in, she would have never gotten killed, and right now she wouldn't be hiding in a car with a gigolo by the name of Patrick Jane.
When she heard steps coming closer, part of her wanted to get closer to Jane, that irrational part that had always been attracted to him, since the moment she had seen a picture of him, but Teresa Lisbon knew better: she wasn't a frightened doll any longer; so, when the trunk was opened and she found herself still embraced by darkness, her instincts kicked in, and she jumped on the mysterious figure, tackling him on the ground.
""Ehy, ehy, calm down, calm down, that's me!" The man underneath her begged, a little scared; Teresa, still looking cautiously at him, stood up, without even bothering to say sorry, and then turned around. In front of her, there was a smirking Jane, and around them, the nothing- and darkness.
Without blinking, she punched him in the nose, hard, with such a strength he fell on the ground, hiding with his hand the poor nose. "What the hell, woman! I told you that I work with this face!" he complained as he stood up, Lisbon still looking at him with her lifted right first, still clearly mad.
"Just, out of curiosity, Jane: is that your brilliant plan? Getting us stranded in the middle of nowhere, uh?" he demanded, slapping him in the back of the head for good measure. Then, she turned to Pete, who was still on the ground, looking at her like he was seeing some miraculous event for the very first time. "What? Yes, I can beat men twice my size, and by the way: if you want to blame someone, blame him."
"Ehy, I'm trying to save your life here!" Jane tried to say, but the words didn't leave his mouth that way because of the pain and the muffled effect of his hand. Teresa clenched her fists as she paced the small distance between the point where she stood and the back of the car, feeling rage and pain rising in her whole being, panic filling her like the desire of just crying and stop pretending being strong and invulnerable.
"Two people leaving the car will be less suspicious than a couple leaving the trunk of my car." Pete massaged his neck, all the while looking at Jane, amused. This one will keep him grounded. And entertained. She is just the kind of woman Paddy need. "We should be there in ten minutes. You'll use my niece's trailer- she left with her boyfriend a couple of weeks ago, the girl."
She sat in the back, crossing her arms, while Jane stood in the front, massaging his injured nose theatrically, not even bothering to put on his seatbelt- just like Pete, who didn't seem to care about speed limits, too. Teresa rolled her eyes, not at all moved by Jane's attempt at gathering her sympathy. "So, what's the story? We are newly leads escaped with the circus out of boredom? Just out of curiosity, in case people would ask."
Pete chuckled, and at his side Jane did the same, too. "The trick of a good con and of a good lie, Teresa, as you well known, is sticking as close as possible with the truth. Like when you came looking for me at Marie's, pretending to be sleeping with Walt, a well-known womanizer." Teresa turned red, and Jane saw the delectable show in the review mirror, and barely resisted chuckling, knowing that she was thinking about the day she had seen him naked in the shower, how she had put him on the ground, straddling him. He wondered what she had thought seeing, and feeling, his hard desire: he was a man, and she was a beautiful woman who had been half-naked on top of him, after all, and his body had reacted accordingly.
"Our friends know what's going on with Paddy. Carnie folks look after each other, sweetie, no matter what." Pete started, and Teresa wondered if, back in the day, they had done something similar for a young Patrick, who wanted nothing but escape from his father and a life that, despite being the dream of every teenager, was doing nothing but trapping him.
"It'll be all right, Teresa." Jane said, half turning, skimming with a finger the jeans-clad skin of her knee. She took a big breath and looked away at his touch, the memory of the day she had "arrested" him still too vivid in her mind, the desire too intense. She wondered if he knew, but after all, from what she had seen and heard, how could he not? Besides, he knew he was a good-looking man- just plain hot and sexy. And maybe, liking him runs in the family. "They know me, but maybe we should leave out that you are a cop. Let's stick with story of the lovers of the run."
"That's not answering my question, Jane." she said, doing her best at being stern, but with his hand still on her knees, burning her with a mere touch, remaining insensible, or at least partial, to his charm and his tricks was proving difficult.
"When I was in trouble, I used another alias, Sean Barlow. I think it's time to bring him back from the dead, don't you, Pete?"
Pete, still driving, chuckled, amused. "You sweetheart here looks like a Charlotte. A dame from the south, tamed by society, but a rebel at heart whose heart got stolen by the mysterious stranger."
"You know." Teresa smiled sarcastically, putting herself in the space between the two front seats. "I know that there's an insult there somewhere, and in your shoes, I'd be careful with what I may or may not say. after all, a good-place kick can even make a man sterile, you know?"
"Geez, Lisbon, we were just trying to make a compliment." Jane rolled his eyes, although he was still using that irritating know-it-better tone of his.
"You want a veritable story? I'll give you one: I was at a party with my boyfriend…" she paused, thinking about what she could say or not say. She knew that the success of a lie stood in the middle way, in giving away enough particulars, especially in case someone started asking questions, but not too much. "…Raymond, when you approached me. Long story short. I cheated on him with you, and he is quite violent and vengeful- as my many scars can testify – so we escaped together, and we here hiding until we'll not be sure that he has stopped looking for us."
Jane looked at her, a little offended and wounded. "You know, I still prefer when I'm the knight in shining armor saving you from a painful and self-destructive relationship."
"You told me that this people know him, right?" she asked, looking at Pete, who nodded in affirmation as he glanced at her. "Than this explains why you can't be a knight in shining armor, Jane. people who barely knows you can't believe it, let alone people who's been knowing you their whole life."
"You wound me, Lisbon, really. I can't believe that with everything I'm doing for you, you would still have such a low opinion of poor old me."
"Jane, you realized that you tried to get me to sleep with you even before leaving Marie's apartment, right?" she said, and then, she hit him in the chest with her closed fist, hoping that it would hurt and leave a bruise or two. "Besides, if you had collaborated right from the start, we wouldn't be in that mess!"
"That may work." Pete said, moving pointing at the two of them. "keep that rage. After all, he seduced you, and now your boyfriend is after you because of him, and you've lost everything you held dear."
"Sounds almost true, don't you think, Jane?" she sarcastically asked, hitting him again in the chest.
He rolled his eyes, as Pete chuckled, laughing behind his teeth. "Tomorrow I'll introduce you around, and give you things to do on the ground, Sam was thinking maintenance works, this way you'll not get too much in contact with the public, and it will decries the chances of you being spotted by someone who may know your real identities."
Teresa just nodded, sighing as she saw the fairy ground appear in the distance, metallic trailers shining underneath artificial lights, no living soul around: this new chapter of her life was starting, and all she had to do was praying that she was indeed that good at working undercover.
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The following day, Teresa was introduced to everyone formally as Charlotte Jane, thanks to Pete's half, the petite, and yet strong, dark-skinned woman known as Samantha (Sam- she wasn't a girl after all). Sam wasn't Teresa's biggest fan, and yet she gave her the benefit of doubt, and yet, every time Lisbon did something wrong or simply not exactly how she was supposed to, she rolled her eyes and chuckled.
Time two weeks, though, the two women were closer; they weren't friends, but at least they tolerated quite a lot each other, and spent a lot of time together, mostly at night, when the men escaped in dark, smoky bars to play pool or poker (the last being Jane's specialty) just to return half-drunk the following morning, with a good hangover. Teresa kept herself occupied, especially during daylight, when she feed and cleaned the animals – Daisy the elephant had a soft spot for her- but at night it was really hard. She often couldn't sleep, partly because she could feel the presence of Jane inside the trailer, half-naked and just a breath away from her, and mostly because, at night, she couldn't help but think about everything she had lost in the last month, she was all alone with her thoughts in the bed, the now dark-haired man sleeping on a small couch in front of the table, and in those moments, when she looked outside and saw people living their life and having fun, she remembered who she had been, and how she, often, liked to go out with friends and coworkers, how Wayne would have dragged her away from McGinnis' and had sex with her in his car before they could even reach one of their apartments.
One night in particular proved to be quite difficult for her.
She had been turning for hours when Jane went to lie on the bed at her side, on the cover, facing the brunette. Teresa wondered if turning on her other side to avoid him, but she didn't want to look too childish, besides, Jane was trying to help her out, to be supportive. There were moments she couldn't stand him, but it was mostly because she was tired of living a life that wasn't her own- especially because they had been forced to do so because of a grave danger on their lives.
"Are you all right?" he asked her, playing with her ring. Teresa simply nodded, but then she took a big breath, shaking her head.
"I keep thinking" she started "when everything started to go so wrong, and… if it's not my fault."
He chuckled. "Lisbon, you may be bossy, but I'm sure you are a good person. None of this could be your fault."
"It is." She said, repeating the words so many times it sounded like her own personal mantra. "It's the butterfly effect, you know? Chain of events, seven degree of separations and all that stuff. If… if I had done what was asked of me… we wouldn't be in this situation." She sighed. "Trust me, Jane. If your life is screwed, it's my fault."
"Did you get drunk?" he suddenly asked, sniffing her, his nose practically touching her own, her breasts a breath from his skin. "Uhm, nope. Okay, so, why did you get so depressed?"
Teresa remained in silence, then she sat up in the bed, and Jane mirrored her movements. They didn't talk, Teresa playing with the cross at her wrist, and Jane respected her silence. He knew she wanted to talk, and that she needed to as well, but he wasn't going to push her; it was something she was supposed to do on her own volition.
Clad only with his pajama pants, he went into the kitchen, and retrieved two glasses from a cabinet, filling them with red wine. He offered one to Teresa, but neither of them drank it, Lisbon playing with it, her eyes searching for the void, while Jane was too busy looking at her with such an intensity it was almost painful. Days like those, it was hard resisting temptation, or try to deny the attraction that did nothing but increase day after day, the closer they got, the more scared they were.
"He goes by Ray." She simply told him, sipping a little her wine, feeling with just one sip drunk, slightly euphoric. Or maybe, it was the idea of finally being able to tell someone the whole story. "Thomas' son, Raymond. He has always gone by Ray. We were engaged to be married. Kind of."
Jane smiled, moving on his back, hands crossed behind his head. "How can you be kind of engaged to be married to someone, exactly?" he asked with amusement. Amusement that disappeared as soon as she covered her face with an hand, trying to not cry as the memories overcame her.
"The Ruskins used to be a powerful mob clan, a long time ago, but my grandfather died without a male heir, leaving only his two daughters- my mum and Aunt Angela; when he passed away, the power went to the eldest, my mother, but… she wasn't exactly well seen within the family, with wanting the family clean and marrying a middle-man like my father, but ehy, they were young and in love, so…" she grimaced a little. "When mum died and dad lost it, the clan was going through a lot, so it was decided that, in our best interest, we should have done like our ancestors, and look for an ally."
Jane turned again on his side, and stared at her in disbelief, lost in the sight of Teresa, sick and nauseated by the memories she was going through. Her hold on the glass was so strong her knuckles were turning white and her hand was trembling.
"Of course I knew Thomas- everybody did, back then. But when my father introduced me to him and his son at my sixteenth birthday…" she closed her eyes and took a big breath, trying to calm down her nerves and her crazy heart. "I remember Ray grabbing a feel at my ass through my dress, laughing at my face, semi-drunk, calling me a sweet, nice piece of ass, and I didn't even complain. Because I knew what my father would have done to me and my brothers if I did. Angela was the only one to know."
"Dad got killed few days after I had turned eighteen, I was supposed to get married in a few weeks, but with the excuse of the mourning, I could delay it a little longer, and I used that time to talk with Angie about how I didn't want to marry Ray, how I wanted to leave all of it behind, and just start afresh with the guys. And that's when she went to talk with McAllister and they came out with an alternative."
"Thomas had lost his wife the previous years, and he agreed to marry Angela if the boys and me left the clan once and for all, leaving the power to her." She closed her eyes and took a big breath, small tears on her face, a memory of her guilt. "I wanted out so I forced her to marry him, Jane. that's why it's my fault she is dead. If she hadn't been married with him, she would have never looked for you… and she would have never died and you would have never gotten involved with our families."
He took the glass from her hand, and left it on the floor, and then collected the tiny form of Teresa Lisbon in his arms, allowing her to hit his chest and cry on his shoulders, hiding in his chest, just like she saw fit. She sobbed for what felt hours in his arms, Jane never stopping to draw small circles on her back and kiss her hair.
"If you are guilty, then, I am too." He told her, when she had calmed down and he believed her to be asleep. "Because if Angela hadn't died, I would have never met you."
"Jane…" she whispered, looking at him in his eyes, gulping down a mouthful of saliva, her hands cupping his neck, her cheek against his naked torso. Are you going to open up with me, too? Tell me about the woman who wore this ring before me?
"You are a brave soul, Teresa… and any man should be grateful and honored to be your love and love you, for you are a light in the darkness." He got closer and closer, and when she saw his dilated pupils in the semi-darkness and felt his desire between their bodies, she knew where he wanted to go.
"I know that I am." He said, and his lips descended upon hers. She met him halfway, her eyes closed as she moaned and their tongues met, dancing around and with each other, until they didn't part, kissing more and more lazily every time they found each other again, their hands exploring each other through the fabric of clothes and linen, with hunger and desperation.
When Teresa finally fell asleep, Jane stood there in the bed with her, his heart clenching for what he was about to do. He cried in her hair, cursing his own name and his past, but knew that there was no other way. If he went through his plan until the very end, he would have been able to call himself a free man once again. And Teresa would have been able to get back to her life.
With her heart a little broken, but maybe free from the shadows of her past.
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After over a week of passionate kisses and satisfaction given and received through hands and mouths, Lisbon decided that she was having enough of that. She was a heterosexual woman, desiring an Adonis who wanted her back, and living under his same roof; so, she really didn't know what she was waiting for. Jane had told her that they were waiting for the dust to settle to decide how to move from there. She had tried to explain him that, were he to give her the USB stick, things would play out in their best interest, but he kept denying having it to begin with.
So, really, if she wanted to be less uncomfortable and have Jane doing what she wanted, the only thing to do was playing his own game, the one of seduction, and get him so addicted to the feel of her naked body around his that he would have done anything in his power to have her in his bed again and again and again. So, really, she was killing so many birds with one stone, she couldn't even count them.
She took a long shower, scenting her skin and her hair with a vanilla shower-gel (a fragrance that, on her, seemed to arouse him, make him desperate for her in a way he said he had never felt before, not honestly, not with so much feelings involved), and then looked for the sexiest pair of underwear she could find, dark green silk and lace. She looked at herself in the mirror, clad only in her underwear, her chosen clothes still on the bed, and blushing she finally realized, completely, that she was sexing herself up for him. The idea made herself feel more powerful, and made her exited, ignited nerves she thought she didn't have any longer. As she closed her eyes, one hand vanished in her panties, the other went to stimulate her nipples, and the desire only increased as she thought about Jane, Patrick, seeing the evidence of her desire for him as he would have undressed her in a short while.
She giggled as she pleasured herself, denying herself the oblivion of orgasm to leave the honor to her soon-to-be-lover, and with sex-filled hair she went to collect her clothes, the fabric of the blue warp-around dress like electricity as she covered her over-stimulated body.
Shaking her head in disbelief, but with a bright smile, she put on some high heels that would made her feel taller and underline her assets, and then went in direction of the wood structure where the men were playing poker.
"Hello everyone!" she said flirting as she was greeted by clapping hands and whistles of male appreciation. She looked at the table, but didn't see Patrick, so she joined Pete and put her hands around his shoulder, massaging his sore muscles. "Pete dear? Can you tell me where's my man, pretty please?" she added a pout for good measure, because men seemed to be goner for her when she pouted.
Pete didn't answer immediately, and from the way he was getting redder and redder, Teresa feared she had caused him a stroke, but when another one of the men told her "Sean" was in the back getting a drink for them, she shrugged, and didn't bat an eye as they kept complimenting her man for going to get lucky.
"Gotta tell you, Jane, your friends are having high expectations for this night of ours…" she giggle with an husky voice as she got at his back, her hands traveling the expanse of his chest. She felt for his desire, but found no evidence of it, and immediately parted. She looked at him, and found Jane sad and desperate, almost scared.
H doesn't really want me, she thought. There's some other woman in his heart. Maybe his wife. Maybe Angela. But not me. "I'm… sorry." She said, almost ashamed of herself, trying to hide as much as her skin on display as she could.
"Reese… no, no, wait…" he begged as he looked at her walking backward toward the door, her eyes glassy. He felt like a monster in that moment, thought about when she had talked about the day Ray McAllister had called her a nice piece of ass when she was just a teenager, something that was still with her. she saw him just like she had done the young man, a man after one thing and one thing alone, and that yet couldn't see every facet of her.
"Teresa… I just… I wasn't expecting you here." He lied, and he wondered if she knew. She smiled a little, a little relieved, and allowed Jane to hug her and leave few kisses on her lips and her nose, when, suddenly, she smelled something.
Smoke.
"What the.." she said as she looked around, spotting a small fire in the corner of the kitchenette. "Jane, we need to leave…"
He took her hand in his own, and looking at the fire, his Adam apple dancing underneath the thin, tanned skin of his neck, they run outside, standing in front of the wooden shed as the people gathered there and looked at the structure, the flames getting higher and higher by the second.
"Pete? Pete? Pete!" They both turned, and saw Sam crying as she called for her husband, and without hesitation, without further question, Jane left Lisbon's hand and went back in, right into the fire despite her cries and her sobs. Teresa and Sam stood there, in complete silence, like they were dead, waiting for a sign, for anything. Few minutes later, their patience was compensated as Pete emerged from the imploding structure.
The same couldn't be said about Jane.