Warnings: Explicit sexual content, angst, food, banter - the whole package...
A/N: This is an extra longer chapter to make up for the fact that starting tonight I'll be gone for a week without a chance to post anything. I'm going to Hongkong on a holiday trip and I'm really excited!
Cho followed his teammate and friend to the cemetery, which held the graves of his wife and daughter. He watched from inside the car as Jane walked over to where Cho presumed their last resting places were located. Jane crouched down in front of two stones and sat there deep in thought.
The agent had no idea what exactly had happened to make the man run off. But his best guess was that it had to do with the earlier events. The man who'd attacked their consultant was obviously one of his newfound relatives. Apparently one not too fond of the new addition to his family.
Cho had known the curly blond man for nearly nine years now. He deemed himself to be a rather capable detective. Not in the same league as Jane, obviously, but not too shabby either. And over the years he'd learned to read the consultant, at least to a certain degree. He'd seen him on cases that destroyed families. He'd seen him with children on many occasions. And with people who were supposed to be loving each other but hurt and betrayed each other instead.
Cho had seen that Jane was at his most vicious and scheming when he sensed deception. He knew no mercy when it came to revealing the lies and deceit in a family. On the other hand, he'd also watched him in cases where someone had really suffered a loss, when the feelings of bereavement had been genuine. And in those instances their normally tartly consultant was usually the one who found the right words of comfort and could show a level of kindness one wouldn't expect from him.
All of this had taught Cho a lot about Jane, about his values and convictions. Their consultant obviously yearned for a family. A place to belong. Honest people with honest feelings of affection for each other – and him. Though Cho was still a bit ambivalent about their relationship, he was happy Patrick seemed to have found this with Teresa.
Yesterday the chance to gain even more family had been dangled in front of him, only to be brutally crushed again not even 24 hours later. That had to have hurt. And in his grief he now sought out the place where he'd been forced to bury another dream of a family.
About an hour later, he saw Jane stand up again, silently staring at the space in front of him. He decided to finally approach him. He got out of the car, crossed the graveyard purposefully and stepped up to Jane.
"Hi, Cho," the blond man greeted him without turning and even before he'd fully reached him.
"Hey, Jane," the Asian man answered.
"Lisbon sent you on babysitting duty," Patrick stated more than asked, still looking ahead.
"Yeah," Kimball replied, standing beside his friend now. "You okay?"
"Fine." Was the short answer.
"Wanna talk about it?"
"No." Jane shook his head with a sideways glance at his teammate.
Cho nodded his acknowledgement and the two men continued to stand side by side in companionable silence for a long time.
Finally Patrick turned to leave. "Thank you, Cho. See you back at the office."
"You're welcome, Jane. How about we grab a bite before we return?"
"I'm not really hungry," Patrick replied. But after a moment of hesitation he spoke up again. "But if you are, I wouldn't be opposed to keeping you company and getting a spot of tea."
"Okay," Cho said in his normal laconic manner. "I'll pick a place. You follow me."
Jane grinned at his friend and nodded his consent.
"And Jane?"
"Yes."
"Call Lisbon, tell her you're okay."
"Will do. Would have done that anyway."
"Good for you."
Jane walked up to Cho and squeezed his shoulder in a friendly gesture. "You're a good man, Kimball Cho. I'm glad you're such a good friend to her."
The agent acknowledged the statement with a nod.
"I won't hurt her if I can help it. Thought you should know that," Patrick added seriously. "I know you don't particularly like or trust me, but I promise my intentions are honest."
"I'm your friend too, Jane," Cho stated. "Don't forget that."
"Oh?" Patrick stared at him in plain astonishment.
"Still think you're a pain in the ass, though." Cho gave the consultant a rare grin.
"I am?" Jane asked, now showing one of his more usual cheery-cocky expressions.
"Yep," Kimball answered. "But you're our pain in the ass, Jane." A half-smile was still visible on his face.
"That I am, Cho. That I am." With a devious grin and a suggestive raise of his eyebrows he added, "Mostly Lisbon's though."
Cho kept a straight face this time, though he had to admit to himself, it was a close call.
Jane chuckled and muttered, "I knew that line would be wasted on you. A pity Rigs isn't around. Poor guy would be as red as a tomato right now."
And then the unthinkable happened: Kimball Cho broke out into full-out roaring laughter. Patrick couldn't help but join in, and so the two friends ended up standing in the middle of a cemetery expressing their mirth (and several other emotions) in a very uncharacteristic way for both of them.
After they'd both calmed down again and finally made their way over to their cars, Jane realized that it had been one of the most liberating moments he could remember having in years, and he felt extremely grateful to his companion and to Teresa for sending him. "Thanks, Cho. I really needed that," he said with heartfelt honesty.
"Don't thank me yet, Jane. Wait until I tell Lisbon what you said," Cho teased him.
Patrick answered in mock-horror, "You wouldn't do that, would you? She'll shoot me. Do you want to have that on your conscience?"
"I can live with that," the agent stated with a straight face.
Only half-joking the consultant said, "Ah, you say that now. But guilt's a bitch, let me tell you that."
Cho turned serious again. "I know that, Jane," he acknowledged the other man's words. Motioning with his head towards their cars, he said, "Let's go."
More than three hours had gone by since Cho called Lisbon, and to say she was worried would be an understatement. But she trusted her agent and knew he would have called if something really bad had happened. Still, it was nearing six pm and she was starting to become somewhat frantic. She'd managed to do some work, to drink several mugs of coffee and even eat a sandwich Van Pelt had been nice enough to bring her. She'd scolded Rigsby for no other reason than being a convenient target and disturbing her at the wrong time, and had apologized to the poor man. She had called Gloria to verify Jane's recount of his visit to her. She made sure their RJ-minion was still in one piece and then paced her office like a caged animal. Right now, she was straightening out her desk, nervously watched by her two remaining team members who knew her well enough to recognize it as the sign of agitation it was.
At long last her cell phone chimed. She nearly cried with relief when she saw that Patrick was the caller. He reassured her that he was okay, that Cho had cheered him up, which made her snort with disbelieve, but he insisted that it was true. He added that he would be back in an hour or two and apologized for the long absence. She told him to get home instead of coming to work again and when he reminded her that they hadn't spoken to Keen that day, she suggested that giving the man another night of brooding might actually be their best shot anyway. He promised to conduct the interview first thing the next morning. She told him they could talk later at home and asked him not to worry about anything. He told her to heed her own advice and she told him to shut up before she hung up with a smile.
With newfound purpose, she first called Patrick's grandparents and confirmed that their grandson was doing alright. She promised them she would make him call personally, but added that she wouldn't push him. Afterwards, she got back to her work with ardor and watched through the open blinds in her office window as her teammates relaxed. She smiled to herself, made her way over to the bullpen for a short break, and told Van Pelt to go home and enjoy the rest of her birthday. And when Rigsby cast puppy-dog eyes on her, she added, with a touch of sarcasm, "Fine, go home Rigs, it's not like we've anything important to work on anyway," and when he smiled brightly and divulged that he had Ben this week and would be able to spend a bit more time with him that way, she decided that maybe the day wasn't entirely disastrous after all.
Two hours later, she was caught up with her work as much as possible and ready to leave as well. Jane had been right. The preliminary report from forensics had shown traces of a sedative in Alexander's blood, probably imbibed with his evening meal. No traces of fibers or other materials had been found on the body. She congratulated herself, or rather, Patrick once again for having discovered the evidence held in the victim's hand before the corpse had been removed from the crime scene. Though nothing about the report looked fishy so far, she realized that her distrust of anyone outside her own team had started to rival Patrick's. Thinking of him, she switched off her computer and grabbed her jacket, feeling a sudden hurry to get home.
When Lisbon got to her place, she was greeted with a very unexpected sight. Her couch was occupied by her second in command holding a bottle of beer in one hand and a fork filled with deliciously smelling pasta in the other. Jane was nowhere in sight, but made his presence known verbally. "Teresa? You're home? Great. Dinner's ready. I invited Cho over. Hope that's alright with you." She heard the sounds of plates and cutlerly being situated in the kitchen. "Don't just stand in the doorway, take a seat on the sofa. I'll be in with your food in a sec."
"How the hell did you know I was still standing in the doorway, Jane?" she called back. "Actually, never mind. I don't know why I even bother to ask. Hi, Cho."
The agent chewed and swallowed before he opened his mouth to return the greeting. "Hey, boss. Hope you don't mind my being here."
"Of course not. It's a nice surprise. How did he manage to lure you here?" Lisbon said, while she hung up her jacket and slipped off her shoes.
"He told me you didn't want us back at the office and since I was hungry, he suggested he could fix me some dinner. Said he wasn't hungry himself but if I wanted his company, he'd much rather drink his own tea," Cho explained.
Teresa raised her brows. "And you wanted his company that much?"
Her teammate shrugged. "You said he could cook, boss. I'm hungry."
She came over to him with a smile, patted him on the shoulder, sat down beside him and said, "Good choice, Kimball. What are we having?" She took a closer look at the plate in front of him and took in the smell with anticipation.
"This is the main course. I had something called bruschetta already. Was pretty good. This is something with sage, I think. Better let him explain." He put another forkful in his mouth and couldn't fully quell a satisfied moan. A moment later, his mouth empty again, he said, "I think you should keep him, boss. And if you don't want him anymore, I'll take him."
Teresa snickered. "Unfortunately he isn't quite the well-behaved housewife one would wish for. I'm working on it though. The cooking is a definite bonus."
"You know I can hear you, don't you?" Patrick said upon entering with a filled plate.
"Yes, counting on it, actually," she teased.
"No desert for you tonight, Agent Lisbon," he retorted with a smirk.
"Then you won't get any either," she bantered.
"I'm still here, guys," Cho chimed in.
Patrick and Teresa just grinned at him deviously and Kimball shook his head with a fond smile.
Jane came over to the couch and put the plate he had been carrying down on the coffee-table, before he bent forward and pressed a lingering kiss on Lisbon's lips, which she returned eagerly, surprising herself with the easy acceptance of this PDA in front of one of her subordinates.
"What do you want to drink, Teresa? I'll get it for you when I bring your main course," Patrick asked afterwards.
"Just some soda. Where's your plate, Patrick?" Teresa inquired.
"I'm not particularly hungry. I'll give it a pass," he answered.
She cast him an anxious look. "You need to eat, Jane. I know you didn't have the best of days, but you shouldn't let that stop you. It's not healthy. I bet you didn't even have breakfast this morning."
"I had a slice of Van Pelt's lovely birthday cake, Lisbon. Stop worrying so much. I'm fine, just a bit off my feed today." He left the living room before she had a chance to tell him birthday cake didn't count as a meal.
"Stubborn idiot," she grumbled, taking a bite from one of the three bread like thingies Jane had brought her as an appetizer. She forgot about her anger immediately.
"Pretty good?" she asked her companion on the sofa with raised eyebrows after swallowing. "You call this pretty good, Cho?"
"Yeah," he deadpanned.
She cast him an incredulous sideways glance.
"Okay, pretty damn good," he admitted with a half-grin.
She chuckled. "That's more like it." She took another hearty bite and moaned in delight.
Patrick came back with a tray containing a plate full of some kind of pasta dish, a glass of soda and the inevitable cup of tea, which always seemed to be present in his vicinity.
He sat down beside Teresa on the end of the sofa in a spot not technically big enough for him, which pressed him into his lover. She made a bit more space for him moving closer to Cho, but cast him an irritated look anyway. "There are two perfectly suitable armchairs here, Jane," she stated.
"Yep," he retorted. "I'm sure they are very nice and all. But I think I'm more of a couch kind of guy," he declared with a straight face.
Cho snorted.
Teresa shook her head, but smiled anyway. She grabbed the last bite of the first of her three appetizers and was just about to put it in her mouth, when Patrick snapped it from her fingers with his teeth. "Jane! That was mine," she protested.
"Thought you wanted me to eat," he said with a challenging look.
"Get your own food," she scolded him half-heartedly.
"Well, I would have. But these," he indicated the remaining bruschetta on her plate, "are actually the only ones I could save." He grinned and pointed in the direction of their guest. "Cho here pulled a Rigsby on me. Ate ten of them."
Teresa cast a disapproving look at her subordinate. "Ten, Kimball?"
"I was hungry, boss. And they were pretty good," the Asian man said stony-faced.
Lisbon looked at him sternly.
"Well, pretty damn good," he deadpanned completely unfazed.
Teresa snickered.
They continued their meal, sharing mostly a light conversation, but Lisbon brought them up-to-date on the case as well. Patrick went on stealing bites from her fork and after a while she admitted defeat with a sigh and started to feed him every other bite voluntarily. To be honest, she really didn't mind. He'd brought an enormous portion of the pasta dish anyway and she was glad she got some food into him that way.
When they'd finished the main course, Jane produce some kind of home-made chocolate pudding for dessert. He apologized for the simplicity of the dish, claiming lack-of-time as the reason.
"Only you, Jane. Only you would apologize for something most people would either never manage to accomplish in the first place or take great pride in otherwise." Lisbon shook her head in exasperation. "But for what it's worth: I'm sure Cho and I are perfectly willing to forgive you, aren't we?" She cast her agent an inquiring look.
"Yes, Jane. But don't let it happen again," he said with a grin. And with a groan he added, "I'm not even sure I'm able to eat any dessert. I'm definitely not hungry anymore."
Patrick chuckled merrily. "Oh, there's always an empty spot in your stomach for things made of chocolate. Trust me, there's some kind of complicated evolutionary reason for it, but I won't bore you with scientific details," he explained mock-seriously.
Shortly after they'd finished the dessert, Cho got up to leave, as it was already after ten pm. At the door he turned and addressed Jane, "Thanks for the food, Patrick."
"Thanks for the company, Kimball," he answered. Both men cast each other a look of mutual understanding, conveying all the implied meanings as well.
"How are you doing, Patrick," Lisbon inquired, when they were finally alone.
"You've been asking me that a lot lately," was his only reply.
"That doesn't answer my question, Jane," she huffed.
"I'm not in the mood for talking," he stated neutrally.
She gave him a once over and sighed afterwards. "Alright, then don't talk. See if I care."
He came over to her and caressed her cheek gently. "Ah, come on, Lisbon. Don't be like that." He pecked her pursed lips. "I'm seriously not in the mood for talking. But I'm perfectly willing to show you I'm fine," he added suggestively.
"Well, I'm not sure I'm in the mood for that," she muttered.
He shrugged and looked a little crestfallen.
"I'll be in the kitchen then. Have some cleaning to do." He turned to leave.
"Patrick?"
"Yes?" he answered, looking back at her with a hopeful expression.
"Ah, never mind. I'll be upstairs."
He nodded. Face falling and shoulders slacking as he padded away. He wasn't sure why she seemed to be so mad at him. He'd thought that she accepted his need for space and personal time to sort things out. And earlier she'd sounded alright.
Maybe inviting Cho over had been a mistake. She didn't often socialize with her subordinates, and by having someone over in her home he might have overstepped her boundaries. This was her apartment, after all. He was just a guest, he had to remind himself. He knew he had a bad habit of breaking into other people's privacy and behaving like he owned whatever place he happened to be in. And he'd even forced her into PDAs in front of the other man…
He decided that that must be it. She'd been polite and played the hostess as long as her colleague had been there, but now she didn't have to show such restraint any longer. And his refusal to talk about his feelings had probably just been the last straw.
He scolded himself for being an inconsiderate asshole and went along cleaning the kitchen of all traces of his cooking. Maybe he should leave her alone for the night. But she usually didn't like him doing that either. And to be honest, he didn't particularly feel like going back to the CBI and he didn't have anywhere else to go. Well, he could always wander the streets of course…
All this thinking only made him feel progressively worse about his behavior today. It was his usual pattern after all. Everything somehow ended up being his fault in his mind, and he over-analyzed every misdeed he'd supposedly committed that day. From being grumpy and not getting up at once after an all too short night, to letting his uncle get to him and making him lose his cool, to running off when Lisbon had explicitly told him this morning that she needed him at work. That he'd also managed to alienate his grandparents completely and prevented Cho from doing his job and abused Teresa's trust by inviting someone into her home without permission, only added to his ever growing list of sins.
By the time the kitchen was sparkling again, he'd beaten himself up entirely and was firmly convinced that Lisbon must be totally fed up with him by now and would surely break it up with him, maybe even already tonight. And it went without saying that in his mind he of course deserved it because he hadn't been worthy of her in the first place.
He switched off the light after finishing the last of his tidying. He didn't know what to do with himself, so he lingered listlessly in the dark kitchen. He was pretty sure she wouldn't want him anywhere near her, so going upstairs was out, though he longed to be close to her, maybe even hold her. But he'd screwed it up as usual and now he just had to live with the consequences.
He had known right from the start it would only be a matter of time before she saw reason, but he'd been stupid enough to hope, he'd at least be able to keep her a week or so. Well, five days were obviously the benchmark, five blissful days, give or take. One should probably subtract being stabbed and having one's father murdered by a sick psychopath from the blissful part.
With his hands resting on the frame of the sink, he was bent forward a bit and stared unseeingly out of the kitchen window into the night outside, the light from the street lamps illuminating him. He didn't even realize that silent tears were running down his face or that he was shaking slightly with anguish.
But Teresa could see it when she quietly entered the room. She'd been upstairs waiting impatiently for him to finish his chores. She'd felt a bit bad about brushing him off like she'd done. But truth be told, she'd really hoped he would share a bit of his feelings with her, after she'd worried so much about him for most of the day. She'd just meant to get back at him when she'd told him she wasn't in the mood for intimacy. Nothing could be farther from the truth. On the contrary, she'd been looking forward to jumping him and making love to him the minute he would come upstairs.
Unfortunately, he'd not come, and after a ridiculously long time had passed since she'd last heard any noises indicating he was still cleaning, she'd first become annoyed with him. She thought he made her wait out of petty revenge for her earlier words. After a while though worry had taken over and she'd decided to go looking for him. She'd seen that the kitchen light had been switched off when she came downstairs and didn't expect to find him in the dark room. But there he was. She could see the tear tracks on his face and his state of distress, though he didn't make a single sound.
With three long strides she crossed the distance and put her arms around his waist and pulled him firmly against her chest.
He flinched violently because he'd been deep in his mind and hadn't noticed her approach at all. She didn't let that faze her. She started to move her hands up and down his chest in a way she hoped he would find comforting and asked quietly, "What's the matter, Patrick? Why are you crying and why didn't you come upstairs? I was waiting for you."
He raised a hand to his face and touched his cheeks, only now realizing that they were indeed wet. "You were waiting for me?" he asked hoarsely. "I thought…" He stopped speaking again as a relieved sob got in the way.
She forced him to turn around, needing to see his eyes. "What did you think, Patrick?" she demanded to know.
He looked down, avoiding her gaze. "I didn't think you would want to see me again," he finally divulged sadly.
"What?" she exclaimed in complete confusion.
"Yeah. You know, because of all those dreadful things I've done today," he explained huskily.
She looked at him in honest disbelief. "The dreadful things you've done today?" She repeated his words in form of a question. "What the hell are you talking about, Patrick?"
"Everything," he said and started to enumerate all his bad deeds that had made it on the list of horrors his mind had come up with earlier, finishing of with his conclusion that she must be completely fed up with him by now and that he would fully understand it if she wanted to show him to the door.
When he stopped talking she hadn't known whether she should be angry or sad. She took some deep breaths to compose herself because even though she truly felt like lashing out at him, she knew that would only cause more harm. But his constant insecurities were wearing her down and she'd no real idea how to get through to him once and for all.
In the end she decided to show him her feelings on the matter. She grabbed his hand and pulled him out of the kitchen. "Come with me," were the only words she supplied in response to his rendition of - in her eyes – utter nonsense.
She was a bit proud of herself, and had to admit that Jane had taught her well, when she managed to perceive his slight misstep at the bottom of the stairs when the direction she was leading him in obviously deviated from the path he'd expected her to take, namely to the entrance door.
They continued up the stairs in silence. She led him into their bedroom and only broke the quiet to order him to get naked and lie down on the bed. Her voice didn't leave any room for debate, and even though he was utterly puzzled by now, he followed her request wordlessly. This was definitely as far off from his expectations as one could get.
He looked anxiously at her when he stood before her completely naked while she was still fully clad, albeit already in her sleeping attire. She just motioned for him to lie down in the middle of the bed and all too meekly for her taste, he followed her silent demand.
She took in the sight of him exposed like that on his back, the only thing marring the perfect picture being the bandage that covered his injured arm. God, how she loved this idiot! Now all that was left to do was the 'little' job of convincing HIM of that as well. Right now, this appeared to be an almost Herculean task.
Her eyes softened when she noticed how tense he was. She knelt down on the bed beside him and said softly, "Relax, Patrick," before she bent down and pressed her lips tenderly to his. She broke the kiss after a short moment and wiped away what she hoped to be a tear of relief from his cheek. She straddled him at the waist, keeping his arms restraint with her legs, and started to pepper his chest and face with kisses. Her hands weren't idle either. All in all, she was worshipping him much as he'd done her on several occasions.
Maybe she should have done this before. The realization hit her that she'd been unusually passive during their physical encounters so far. She wasn't normally like that. But Patrick had been such an attentive lover and had blown her away with his intensity and she'd mostly just let him sweep her along with him.
She decided that this had to change. She'd come to the conclusion that - as he was a very physical person, at least when it came to their relationship - this might just be the appropriate way of conveying the depths of her commitment to him. Words were obviously not doing the trick at all.
When she heard the first moan from him, she knew that it was a win-win situation in any case because the sound of his pleasure was such a turn-on for her.
Teasing his nipples with her tongue and teeth elicited an even louder moan and she continued with that for a while. He was rock-hard by now, his erection poking at her butt. She uncurled her upper body again and craned her head to find his lips with hers. They kissed hungrily. She could taste his arousal in his mouth. It was a deep and passionate kiss and she could feel him desperately trying to free his arms, probably to become a more active part in their encounter. But she didn't budge an inch. She wanted to call all the shots this time.
She buried her hands in his curls and massaged his scalp and pulling him closer at the same time, deepening their kiss even more. When she finally broke it, they were both gasping for breath.
She released his hair and caressed his cheeks instead, looking him deep in the eyes. "I love you, Patrick," she whispered intently. "Even though you're a complete moron sometimes."
"I resent that," he murmured half-heartedly. "The second part, that is. The first part, however, is just…"
"The plain truth," she stated with conviction. "Hopefully some day soon you'll actually believe that," she added gravely. "I want this," she indicated the both of them with a hand gesture, "to be forever, Patrick. This isn't some kind of fling for me where I just throw you out when the going gets tough."
"Are you proposing to me, Teresa? Because this sounded eerily like it," he asked, his voice raw with emotion, his eyes searching hers with longing.
She thought over her words and had to admit that her words could have been taken as a kind of vow, and even if it left her momentarily scared, she realized she could get used to the idea easily. "Well, I didn't actually plan for it to come out like that, but if you want to perceive it that way…"
He had enough of being restraint now. With great effort he freed his arms and pulled her head down into another deep kiss, nearly devouring her. "I love you," he breathed into her mouth when they broke their lip-lock.
Making full use of his new freedom, he held her face firmly between his hands so she was forced to look him in the eyes. "Call me old-fashioned, but I'm gonna be the one to propose, Teresa," he said seriously. "I'll just consider your earlier words as you saying yes ex ante to my future question."
He took a deep breath. One of his hands started playing with some strands of her hair absent-mindedly. She could feel that he wanted to say more, so she kept her silence. It was hard though because she was so elated that he'd all but promised her that he would marry her some day.
Finally he seemed ready to speak again. His voice sounded rather sheepish though. "I apologize, Teresa. For doubting you, or us like that. I don't know why my mind comes up with all those scenarios where you throw me out." He caressed her cheek. "I'm so damn scared of losing you that I obviously do everything to sabotage this and hence turn it into a self-fulfilling prophesy. Pretty crazy, I know." She gave him an encouraging nod to go on with his explanation. "What I told you down in the kitchen, it was very real in my mind. I was completely convinced I'd drawn the only logical conclusions." He sighed heavily. He looked at her seriously. "Let me guess, I was totally off with my assumptions?"
She nodded. "Yeah, Patrick. Completely and utterly. There was absolutely nothing about what you presented me with as evidence for your so-called dreadful deeds that I'd even considered as wrongful actions. I was actually proud of your behavior during almost all of the day. Well, re-injuring your arm wasn't part of it. But other than that? Nothing wrong."
He shook his head sadly. "Guess there is something pretty messed up in my mind."
"Ah, don't pull such a face, Jane. I've known that for years. Good news is – we'll be working on it together from now on." Teresa tried to lighten the mood, afraid he would just switch over to his self-loathing-channel if she didn't nip it in the bud.
He gave her a half-smile for her effort but stayed serious when he spoke up again, "Promise me something, Teresa." She nodded. "Promise me you won't let me jeopardize this with my stupid insecurities," he pleaded.
"Yes, imp. I promise you that. I love you," she said sincerely.
"I love you too, Teresa. With all my heart."
She kissed him gently this time. "I know that, Patrick. It's a bit tragic, actually, but it's exactly your absurd behavior that makes it rather plain to see." She pecked him on the nose. "To be honest, I had my doubts when you declared your love for me five days ago. I have to admit that. I thought I'd be second-best to at least your obsession, maybe even to your wife."
She had to swallow heavily at that, her own fears making themselves known. He sensed that immediately and pulled her closer. A smile spread on her face at the gesture and she continued, "See, that's what I mean. It was entirely unnecessary to worry about that. I would have never thought it possible, but I am convinced now, totally convinced, that you mean what you said." Her expression conveyed her awe. "You know I have my own insecurities. I hoped but I never ever expected to be enough for you to readjust your priorities. But now I simply know it. You honestly mean it."
Her smile could have brightened a black hole.
"Yes, I do," he stated matter-of-factly, his face showing a rare amount of openness.
"Now all that's left to do is convince you of the same then, Patrick." She poked him in the chest.
"Good luck, Teresa," he replied, deliberately repeating the exact words that had preceded his first ever declaration of love to her.
"Well, don't shoot me, Jane."
They grinned at each other.
"Mhm, Teresa? I know it's getting late, but are we actually going to finish what you started earlier or did you plan to leave me woefully unsatisfied?" he asked.
"You want to have sex now?" she inquired, her raised brows showing her disbelief.
"Uhuh," he agreed.
She contemplated his request a bit. It was rather late and they needed their sleep, but his hopeful expression was a convincing argument and truth be told - she longed for it as well. Remembering her earlier thoughts about showing him her commitment physically, she decided to suggest some kind of compromise to him.
"Okay, but only if we play it by my rules, Jane," she said strictly.
"That sounds a bit ominous, Lisbon. What rules?" he questioned a bit hesitantly.
"Do you trust me, Patrick?" she asked earnestly, searching his eyes.
"Yes," he answered without any hesitation this time.
"Then allow me to cuff your hands to the headboard," she said quickly.
"What? Why?" he replied totally baffled.
"That's a stupid question. I'm sure you already know the answer. But if you need me to say it: I want you to give up control, Patrick. Let me take care of you," she explained patiently.
She saw some glints of fear and insecurity in his eyes but finally he nodded. "Alright. But if… I mean… would you… if it gets to be too much… I mean…" his voice trailed away.
Teresa kissed him gently. "Of course, Patrick. That's what trusting me implies. I'll make sure you're okay. I promise, I won't hurt you, love."
She got off the bed and went to the bathroom to retrieve the pants she'd been wearing today. Her handcuffs should be attached to them still. She knew this was maybe a bit mean, to test him this way after the day he'd had. But she hoped it would be a liberating experience for him.
After she'd found what she'd been looking for, she returned to the bedroom. Now his face was an unreadable mask to her. She walked over to him confidentially. "Lay down, please. Arms above your head." She tried not to sound like a cop arresting a suspect but she had to admit, the words and her tone were still a dead give-away of her occupation. Not only to her, obviously, because Jane cast her a knowing look.
She was happy to realize that this was actually helping to ease the mood. His expression had definitely turned teasing. "Kinky, Lisbon," he promptly chaffed, but still followed her order.
Cuffing him like that was a bit awkward, she decided. She'd done it once before to prevent him from bunking on Friday night, when they'd come home from their night out with his friends in the Fir Tree. But back then it had been a spur-of-the-moment thing and their relationship had been a totally different one. Furthermore, it had turned out to be a very bad idea considering he'd reacted with an anxiety attack, or, if one counted the avalanche it had initiated leading to their present situation with them finally being involved romantically, it had in fact been a splendid one. She was still undecided. She regretted hurting him in the first place but she couldn't say that she was in any way sorry about their changed status.
She took great care not to hurt his injured arm, which was a bit difficult since the slash was relatively close to his wrist. Stepping back a bit, she admired her handiwork. Bending forward, she traced his sternum lightly with the tip of her fore finger. He shuddered. "You are beautiful, Patrick," she whispered seductively. "I love your body." She knelt down beside him on the bed and continued to touch him lightly, moving down the inside of first one leg, then up the other. He moaned and she watched him harden. "You're very responsive. Few men are. I like that," she told him.
"Teresa, I.." he moaned.
"Hush, Patrick." She put a finger on his lips to stop him. "Don't talk, just feel."
He was still a bit tense. Her finger left his lips and traveled down to his erection. She traced his shaft lightly with the nail of her fore finger, from the bulb up to the glans. He arched off the bed, panting, and she was very satisfied with herself because THIS was the kind of tension she'd been aiming for. His eyes were closed, his features showed only arousal. She decided to repeat the process with her tongue this time. "Aaaahhhh," he groaned.
"You are mine, Patrick Jane," she whispered huskily. "And you are definitely a keeper."
She pinched one of his nipples carefully, while she tongued the other. He was very sensitive in that area she knew. She heard him whimper and decided that this was as far as she would get tonight.
"We'll do that again, when we have more time," she told him. "I want to uncover every inch of you."
She could hear a hitch in his breathing and took that as a sign of consent.
"Open your eyes, Patrick," she demanded and he did so at once.
She pulled her shirt over her head and he watched her intently, following every movement with his eyes. She could see his yearning to touch her, had even noticed he'd forgotten the restraints for a second when his right hand had twitched on the cuff unintentionally. That's when she knew he'd really gotten into the moment, had switched off his formidable mind for once and was just feeling. It filled her with joy.
She lost her sleep pants as well and climbed on top of him. He was still observing her with hungry eyes. She took hold of his erection, covered it with a condom she'd kept close by, and guided it to her entrance. His groans turned into an outright cry when she finally penetrated herself with his shaft. She moaned loudly as well, relishing the feeling of being so intimately connected with him.
Her movements were short and easy at first; though she knew they didn't have the time to protract this tonight, she didn't want it to be over at once. And if her own state was any indication, then he must be very close as well. She got her confirmation when she noticed he was about to regulate his breathing. "No, Patrick. No tricks tonight. Just go with the flow, okay?"
He nodded and she increased both the pace and the range of her movements. She started to touch herself, her breasts and her clit, and she could see how much that affected him, brought him to the brink. He became completely undone, his panting grew frantic and with a last, uncontrolled cry of pleasure he came deep inside of her and she succumbed to her own orgasm as well at the beautiful sight of him.
She had to accept that she couldn't keep his drooping penis inside of her with a used condom and with a disappointed sigh, she released him and stretched out on top of him instead. With great satisfaction she noticed that he was only half-conscious. She framed his face with her hands and kissed him deeply. It took a moment before he responded, indicating that he'd indeed been wiped out. Propping herself up, she grinned at him happily, reached out for the key she'd deposited beside them on the bed and opened the handcuffs. His arms came around her immediately holding her close.
"I love you, Teresa," he said, voice raw with emotion.
"And I love you, Patrick. Do us both a favor and commit that bit of information to a prominent place in your memory palace," she replied, the last part added with emphasis and her eyes full of warmth.
"I'll try to do that," he replied seriously, one of his hands putting an unruly strand of her hair behind her ear.
"At least talk to me next time, before you come up with all that absurd nonsense in your mind, imp." She gave him another kiss.
Meanwhile Wednesday had turned into Thursday, and their kiss was unintentionally cut short by a deep yawn from her. He grinned at her and caressed her cheek. "Guess, we should catch some sleep now. That horrible alarm of yours will go off in about six hours."
She groaned. "Yeah, off to the bathroom then. I need to brush my teeth – you too." She moved to get up.
"I don't know I'd be much of a help. I'd say you'll manage fine on your own," he teased, but got up as well.
"Insufferable smart-ass," she replied and gave him a sounding slap on his naked behind.
"Hey!" he yelped. "That was an act of police malpractice against an innocent civilian."
She snickered, grabbed his hand and intertwined their fingers, pulling him with her to the bathroom. "You're only noticing that now?" She raised her brows. "I had you in handcuffs ten minutes ago. Though I don't know about the innocent part. I'm sure I can find some stains on your waistcoat, Mister."
"Oh, I stained you alright, ten minutes ago, Agent Lisbon," he teased her cheekily.
She blushed and giggled a bit. "God, Jane. You are such a pig sometimes." She stood up on her toes and pecked him on the nose.
They went about their business side by side and she didn't even notice until after the fact, when he stood before her grinning merrily, that she'd actually used the toilet in front of him without any awkwardness. And she couldn't for the life of her remember why this had been such a big deal for her in the first place.
Five minutes later they were back in bed with him spooning her like the night before. Unlike then, they both fell asleep shortly after.
TBC
As I granted you an extra long chapter, I hope you'll grant me extra many reviews. It would be really nice to find all your lovely messages in my mailbox when I come back from my trip...