Disclaimer: If I owned the show, I wouldn't run out of gas on the side of the road.
Set the Fire to the Third Bar
Lisbon pushed her hands into her jacket pockets, fingers curling on the insides in hope to pull the jacket closer to her body. One finger coiled around the warm keys to her car, looping around the holder. She shut her eyes, tossed her head back and breathed out the warm breath turning the cold air into mist. She opened her eyes slowly and reached back out of the pocket, clutching her keys in her hand. Her hand encased the keys, trying to keep the warmth inside her palm.
Her arm shook; her knuckles began to turn white. She felt her body temperature drop as her cheeks flushed bright pink, showing in contrast to her pale complexion. On instinct, she reached out and tugged on her car door handle, sighing to herself, she fiddled with finding the correct key before jamming it in the lock, turning it appropriately, and hearing her car unlock. She opened the door, once more cringing at the ceremonial creaking sound it emitted. Sliding into her car, she remembered that she had left her brief case upstairs in her office.
Oh to hell with it.
She was tired; it had been one hell of a day and not to mention that it was cold outside. Shaking her head and deciding she would get it tomorrow morning, she stuck the keys into the ignition, started the engine and put her hand on the dial to turn up the heat. Then she looked over her shoulder and began to back the car slowly out of the parking space. She chewed on her lips slightly, fingers not clawing slightly at the material of the other passenger seat next to her. Once she was satisfied, she put the car in drive and moved away from her space, waving good-bye to her rookie agent, Grace Van Pelt, who also was heading home for the evening.
She drove silently, not in any particular hurry. Sure she had a few fists waved in her direction, she returned them all with a glare, really, it wasn't her fault that she drove safely.
Her fingers ran across the steering wheel, hands feeling the vibration of the car underneath her hands. She smiled slightly, the very thought of going home made her heart beat faster. The thought of sitting on her recliner and eating some Ben & Jerry's sounded even better-possibly falling asleep.
The streetlights licked over her car, reflecting against the windows and body of the car. She felt the lights flash into her eyes, causing her to squint in only a small amount. All of a sudden, a Lexus pulled in front of her, driving insanely fast. The man inside seemed as if he had really wanted to go somewhere. She hoped that some form of law enforcement would pull him over, question him in every way possible, then charge him fully.
The twelve-year-old girl looked up from the porch steps she sat upon. Her green eyes filled with pain and sorrow, anyone could see that. A police officer shut the door to his cruiser and walked up the walkway, feet hitting against the cement ground, deafening to her ears-making her remember the sound forever.
He stopped in front of her, placing his hands on his hips and looked down on her, "Where's your father?" she didn't want to say it. Everything was still fresh in her mind. Just two days ago her mother had died due to a drunk driver. After that, her father responded full of shock and anger. He had demanded who had done it, expressing his desire to speak with the man responsible. Every officer had denied this desire, shutting him down.
All this had infuriated her father, making him angry-stressed. She had watched him drink most of the Whiskey-more than she had ever seen him drink. She watched him while sitting on the top step, across the hall from her bedroom. She had her elbow on her knee, resting her chin on her knuckles. Her father soon became haggard before falling into a deep sleep, the bottle falling from his limp hands.
If only she had known this would become a regular occurrence in her life later on-she might have said something.
"Where's your father?" the officer asked more irritably, less patient.
She looked up at him, green eyes flashing, and tears slowly building up.
She refused to show them to a complete stranger.
"He's asleep," her voice remained soft, simple. She knew if she were to wake her father, she could tell there would be consequences to that. She wasn't sure if this was a premonition, but something told her this was the easiest part of life without her mother.
The officer nodded and walked past her, rapping on the screen door loudly. She had jumped up, bare feet scrambling against the wooden steps. The officer watched her, watched her fearful eyes, "He's asleep," she repeated, a bit more force placed in her voice, "He's been up all night," partly it was true. He drank all night.
"I need to speak with him," she twisted the handle, moving inside the house. She gestured for the officer to wait outside the house for her. He had nodded to her, mumbling something about not having time for this.
She thought he could use a better attitude.
She never saw that officer again. Waking her father had been a bad idea, a new bruise and a bloody nose showed this. She had sent one of her brothers to go speak with him as she cleaned the blood off her hands.
It was only the mere beginning.
Tears built up in her eyes, threatening to fall. She bit her lip, rolling the plumper flesh between her teeth. She blinked, attempting to keep the tears at bay. The man wasn't driving badly…just erratically. Still she did not understand why someone must drive so fast, if everyone abided by the law, there would be a lot less vehicular deaths, possibly saving her mother and changing the entire course of her life. Who knows, she might have actually gotten married and had an actual family instead of being fully devoted to her job. Everything in her life would be different; she would maintain a different routine.
She would be happier.
She turned the wheel to the left, effectively pulling in front of her apartment building. She slowed the Camry down, heading towards her usual parking space. Everything seemed within the ordinary, arriving home late in the evening, usual parking space vacated, most lights off, telling her people were sleeping. Pulling in, she wasted no time putting the vehicle in park before pulling the keys out of the ignition. She undid her seatbelt and reached over, pushing her door open. One foot down on the pavement, then the other joining in. She stood up to her full height and placed her hand on the door, slamming it shut. The sound echoed through the complex and for once in her life, she was unaffected.
Lisbon walked past her mailbox; she had already lost all hope that he would ever write to her ever again. She knew her mail was piling up by now; she already has had a few notices that she was to go by the post office to pick up a crate full. She would use the excuse that she never had time due to a hectic job; it had only been a few weeks since she last checked picked it up.
Slowly she walked up each step, her feet hitting the wooden steps, not listening to the horrific noises they were to make. Her eyelids drooped; the continuous feeling of being tired hit her harder at this very moment. All she wanted to do was lie down in her bed and fall asleep, forget about the hard week-the hard case. Once she reached her floor, she reached up and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear and fumbled with her keys. Jamming them in the door, she stepped in.
Tossing the keys onto the kitchen table, allowing them to slide right off without much hesitation, her body turned towards the door as she began to push it closed. Something caught her eye. In the overhead light, she noticed a piece of paper-something that appeared to be torn off a simple white notepad. Furrowing her brow, she walked slowly, almost admonishing herself for doing so. She bent down and picked it up with two of her fingers, not particularly caring that she wrinkled it. Standing up to her full height, she flipped it over, reading the back of it.
Her breath caught in her throat.
Teresa-
I still love you very much. I hope to see you soon.
Love, Patrick
He was here in Sacramento…the very question was, where was he exactly? How much had he changed over the year since she had seen him last? But most of all, how would she react to seeing his face?
Angry?
Happy?
Love?
She encased the paper in her fist, hearing the paper crinkle as a protest, almost asking her not to crush it. Tears were threatening to slip down her face. Flashes of his face came into her mind, causing her heart to beat wildly. She wanted him back into her life, she yearned for him. His absence only made her realize her true love for him. She already knew he loved her, but she wanted him to actually say it to her.
She shut the door closed, hearing it click before she locked it, effectively keeping anyone unwanted out of her home. She pulled the note out of her hand, flattening it out. Her lip quivered, her breath hitched in her throat. She pulled the note to her chest and backed up until she hit the wall. A low thud resonated through her head as she slowly slid to the ground. Once hitting the tiled floor, she bent her knees up, resting her head on top of them. She let herself cry-let the emotions that made her feel vulnerable and weak come out of her very being. She wrapped her arms around her knees, keeping them closer to her. A sob wracked through her body, tears flowed down her cheeks. For seemingly the first time in a long time, she felt herself breakdown completely. She needed him-wanted him. She wished her was here to comfort her, whisper sweet nothings into her ear and make her blush. Her body jerked, hiccupping uncontrollably. She squeezed her knees tighter to her chest, burrowing her head unknowingly farther. Her shoulders squared forward, keeping her almost into a protective ball. A soft whimper escaped her lips, something she had not felt herself do in a long time. She lifted her head up, looking around the dark lit room. Sniffling, she reached up and wiped the side of her face with the sleeve of her jacket, not really caring what the salt would do with the fabric.
She ignored hearing a sound of movement in her apartment. The blood was pounding in her ears and her diaphragm began to hurt after all the hiccupping. She felt herself grow more tired than before, feeling that she could fall asleep where she sat on her floor. She felt her feet slide in front of her; she stubbornly pulled them back up to her body, keeping them close to her. She whimpered again as another sob moved through her body. She had gotten to the point where she felt ultimately empty…it was not the first time that she felt the very essence of her life become drained from her body.
Then a thought crossed her-How dare he! He walks out of her life then expects her to throw herself into his arms once he comes back to Sacramento! How dare he think he could slowly 'starve herself' of his very being to the point where she would confess her undying love for him.
This was all some little plan he had, wasn't it?
She pulled her head back up, thumping it against the wall. She hiccupped before her mouth contorted into a smile. She almost shut her eyes, allowing the tears to blur her vision. She laughed, letting it move throughout the apartment. Her hands moved from her knees and onto the floor beside her. Her head lolled to the side, still a smile on her face.
"Jane you son of a bitch," then she felt her heartstrings tug. The sudden feeling of sadness overtaking her once more. She opened her eyes then wrapped her arms around her knees once more, staring off into space, "Why did you leave?" she moved her head to rest on her knees, keeping herself into the tight ball once more.
"Because I hurt you," she felt a warm hand encase around hers as a beautifully harmonic voice swirled around her ears. She stiffened, lifting her head up slowly. Everything was blurry.
Her heart began to beat inside her chest as she blinked frantically, hoping to rid herself of the tears. The warm hand squeezed hers as her vision finally focused in front of her on the man she had once loathed all those years ago. He had changed though, slight stubble placed strategically over his features, giving him the very rugged look that could make any woman swoon.
"Pa-trick?" her voice hitched as she loosened up, allowing herself to become less tense.
Slowly he stood up, his breathing and the sound of his clothes the only thing she heard. He gently pulled her up with him. Their breathing was the only thing that was heard. The only thing she felt was the heat radiating off him as his hand held hers and her heart thumping wildly inside her chest.
His hand moved up, brushing over her cheek before sliding over her lips, "I'm here," she noticed tears forming in his eyes, "I'm here," he repeated, pulling her flush against his body. Her head was resting on his chest, his warm arms wrapped around her body, keeping her safe. He nuzzled her hair, breathing her in.
She pushed him away slightly, until she could look directly into his face. Nervously gazing up into his eyes, he watched her every move. She leaned up, wrapping a hand around his chin. As she was about to press her lips to his, she recoiled, biting her lip. Their breathing became a mixture, slowly mingling together. His eyelids slid shut a bit as he leaned down, beckoning her lips into a sweet kiss. She felt him move one hand from her waist, brushing her hair past her shoulder, slowly caressing the smooth skin of her neck. She shuddered, breaking the kiss slightly and head bowing. Her head moved back up as she met his half-lidded gaze. Once more, she caught his lips in her own. The kiss was soft, barely touching her lips. She could hardly feel them at all. She whimpered, fingers fisting in his shirt. His hands slid down to her hips, pulling her shirt out of her pants and sliding his hands up her back. She pressed her lips more forceful against his, wanting to unleash all the pain that he had caused her in the past year. Her breath hitched in her throat as she gasped when he finger ghosted over her belly button. Her head moved into the crook of his neck, her breathing barely tickling his neck.
"I love you," she spoke softly, against his neck, "God I love you so much."
He pulled her from the crook of his neck, gazing down at her, tears of joy sliding down his cheeks. He reached down, pressing his lips against hers, ultimately sweetly. They drew it out for as long as they could, letting each other's mouths move in synch.
"I love you," she faltered, allowing her hands to clutch onto him even tighter. She had finally heard him say it. She let her breath hitch in her throat once more as she looked up at him.
Tonight would be a night they would remember until they were dust. It would be one of those things they would never tell another about. It was between them, the love for each other should only ever between them. The undying love with each other could never be shared nor could it ever be measured. They would love each other forever.
Hours later, they lay in bed, bodies entwined, not bothering to cover each other up. His body kept her warm, melded into her permanently. He would never leave her side once more, he now fully devoted himself to her. The soft sound of her breathing told him she was asleep, refusing to wake. He listened to her breathing, his own personal love song, no other recorded song could ever compare to this one. T
The moonlight streaming through the blinds in her room hitting their bodies, accenting every contour of each other's body. He had refused sleep to watch the sun rise, how it would dance over their bodies, making everything appear to be aflame. It would imprint itself forever into his mind, something he would think about if he were not around her. He tightened his grip on her, afraid that if he were to let her go, he would never see her again. She was his now, the love of his life, the one he chose. He would honour her forever.
I'm miles from where you are
I lay down on the cold ground
And I pray that something picks me up
And sets me down in your warm arms
I could end it this way, but I might make one more part after this. I would have updated this last night…but I had writer's block…and fell asleep for a few hours. I would probably write up another chapter for my other story first…though.
Reviews are like chocolate…enough said.
