A/N: That really is some arrogant hair, guys.
I'm resisting the urge to delve into the farcical, though I could and it would be fun for me and I really want to...
Lisbon laughed when it licked her; she'd taken a liking to the llamas.
Jane sat on an upturned feedbucket, absently tossing feed to some roosters. He was mostly watching Lisbon. Openly staring, really. They were inside a little fenced off enclosure in the middle of the clearing in the middle of the park overlooking the ocean. Jane's wasn't noticing the scenery though. The waves looked especially glorious that day, the way the sunlight danced across them, glittering, the shimmering, shining splendour. The lush foliage surrounding them, enveloping them, hiding them and their menagerie of baby farm animals away from the world. Jane saw none of that.
He saw Lisbon's hands though, as they stroked the baby llama's velvety nose and scratched behind its ears.
There were children. They had materialised like so much magic at the sight of the animals and though it was intended to be a private moment, just the two of them and the farm animals, how could Jane deny children from getting in on the animal feeding action? The family who owned the animals, a couple and their two teenage sons, were amiable and though the husband had tried making small talk with Jane, he was far too engaged in his staring. A small boy squealed with utter joy when the lamb ate from his hand. Jane could stay here forever.
The older teenage son approached Lisbon then, a bit awkward and unsure.
"Are you Teresa?" he asked her. The boy was shy. Jane empathised; he remembered what it was like talking to attractive women when he was that age.
Lisbon stopped patting the llama.
"Yes. I'm Teresa. Can I help you?" The boy had her attention. Jane's too, as he paused in his chicken feeding to watch what happened next.
"Um. Hi. Someone called Jane paid my folks an extra hundred bucks if we'd tell you, uh...", the boy shuffled a bit, tentative.
"Your friend Jane wants you to know she's sorry and she won't tell anybody else about you being naked with your boss."
The teenager, embarrassed, scurried away quickly to tend to the growing horde of small children wanting feed for the animals. Jane was giggling. Actually giggling. Lisbon had her hands on his hips, eyes blazing.
"Seriously?", she intoned, mostly in disbelief.
Jane laughed some more. "That wasn't the message, exactly. Close enough. I like this one so much more, let's run with it." His eyes crinkled and his face hurt from smiling so hard. He was so happy. This was the best day.
"This is the best day."
"You are the worst." Lisbon scratched underneath the llama's chin. It closed its eyes in bliss and stretched its neck.
"I'm not! I got you llamas."
xxxxxxxxxxxxxx
The gigantic tank in front of them was filled with jellyfish. Hundreds and hundreds of small jellyfish, glowing and reflecting and pulsing and floating, propelling themselves gently, elegantly. The aquarium was dark and atmospheric, intimate. Quiet, and Jane and Lisbon could barely see each other through the dimness. The tank had a blue background and fluorescent lights to illuminate the translucent jelly creatures. They glowed pink and green, the coloured lights shining through them, so pretty and soothing.
The petting zoo had been incredibly entertaining and Jane was talking about getting Lisbon her own llama. But now, Jane had dragged Lisbon to some flashy touristy aquarium. It was tacky, maybe, and very possibly exploitative. There seemed to be whales and things but he really only wanted to see the jellyfish. Wanted to show Lisbon the jellyfish.
Hours, weeks even, of Jane's life had been spent transfixed by South American jellyfish. Jane had spent much of his time in Venezuela admiring the sea life. The jellies were his favourite. He'd written about them in great detail in his letters to Lisbon.
Lisbon had one hand pressed against the massive tank. She watched the glowing animals gently propel themselves. Jane's jellyfish letters has been so... romantic? He had written with zest and meaning and genuine enthusiasm and because they mattered to him, they mattered to her too.
"They create their own electricity. Just a little spark. So they can glow.", said Jane. He was entranced. He slumped down onto his crutches where he stood.
"Mostly red, I think. The ones I saw. But sometimes yellow and green and blue."
She put a hand on his shoulder, and he looked at her instead. Lisbon was prettier than jellyfish any day.
Lisbon was a traditionalist when it came to things she found romantic: flowers, chocolate, cuddling.
Things Jane finds romantic: socks; juggling; beer bottles; llamas; jellyfish. That deserves an eye roll if ever anything did. A relationship with Jane had no chance of being traditional. Lisbon wrapped her arm around Jane's bicep. He gave her a lopsided grin. She found herself disavowing all things normal. She had him.
"Why do they glow?" she found herself asking.
"They're clear. And they reproduce sexually. Asexually too, I think, I dunno. But they're clear, so it makes it hard to find a mate. Because even jellyfish need love. So they flash colours at each other, it's like Morse code. And when they find each other? They dance." Jane was intense. He looked down at Lisbon, his eyes dark.
"You brought me all this way to show me horny jellyfish?"
"Mmm. Not just that." The jellyfish were forgotten. Jane kissed Lisbon, gently, sweetly. He couldn't touch her; his hands grasped his crutches, steadying himself. And boy, did he want to touch her.
Lisbon touched him instead. Nobody was around; there was a sea lion show on or something. They were in their own little corner of the universe, backlit by jellies and fluoros. Lisbon ran her hands up Jane's stomach, across his chest and around his shoulders, pulling him close. She deepened the kiss, ran a hand through his hair. Jane's hair, haughty, such a light, colour, glowed under the fluorescence, an up close jellyfish with tendrils she could pat.
Jane closed his eyes, allowed himself to float. He'd taken a second round of opiates to ease the throbbing in his ankle, and everything was mildly spinning, amazing. Lisbon's hands ran down his arms, across his stomach, around his back, and she pressed herself against him, mouth still exploring his. He gripped onto the crutches tightly, wasn't sure he wouldn't fall, didn't care if he did.
"Lisbon," he half moaned when she released his mouth so they could both take some deep, ragged breaths. "Jellies have barbs, some have them, did you know?"
Jane's eyes opened. He saw glowing everywhere, and Lisbon had wrapped herself tightly around him, lips still inches from his, staring up at him with dark, dark pools where her eyes should have been. He could feel her breath and she could feel his... breath too.
"Yes, Jane. Jellyfish can sting...?" She ran her hand across his throat, glanced around to make sure nobody was around and surreptitiously unfastened two buttons on Jane's shirt. She ran her fingers underneath, feeling, caressing, admiring.
Jane threw his head back, just a little, rocked on his crutches.
"God, Lisbon." His voice cracked. "I was going to make a joke about penetrating barbs, you've decimated that."
"I haven't. You can show me", she whispered into his ear. She looked over at an 'authorised staff only' door to the left of the gigantic jelly tank. Nodded at it pointedly. Jane swallowed thickly.