Chapter 26 – Passion

Sacramento.

Around twelve months earlier.

She kissed him again, increasing the fierceness and the urgency. Helpless and unwilling to fight against the passion bubbling up inside him any longer he kissed her back, devouring her lips in a series of soft frenzied pecks. The pecks turned slower and longer as his hands crept under the jersey at her hips. He exhaled into a kiss as he felt the softness of her skin, its warmth welcoming him and curling around every nerve ending like a blanket. It was as if he'd finally found somewhere safe to rest after battling through an incessant snowstorm in a long cold winter.

She shed the jacket from his shoulders, the vest following it quickly. He disengaged his fingers only long enough to cast them to the floor. She pulled him forward by his shirt lapels until he lay almost on top of her as they kissed. He cast his shirt as he kissed her neck and nuzzled her collarbone. Her hands went to his hair and she closed her eyes as he kissed her stomach through the softness of her jersey. He pulled it up at her belly and deposited a hot kiss to its centre with a low moan, his fingers clutched to the hem of her top as he moved it slowly upwards. She shuffled on the bed to allow him to draw it higher and over the soft mounds of her breasts. He stopped and admired them enclosed in a functional white cotton bra, unable to stop a smile forming on his lips. He licked his lips as he laid a palm on top of one, his fingers grazing it gently in a slow lazy pattern. He squeezed it softly and smiled when Lisbon arched her back with a moan and he felt the nipple harden under his touch.

Lisbon drew her legs around his waist as he kissed her mouth again reverently as he continued to stroke her breast. "I need to say something," he whispered quietly. "Before...well, before..."

She opened her eyes and looked at him, afraid to see regret or a change of heart. He kissed her again instead with ferocity and squeezed her breast lovingly.

After she nodded he said, "That thing I said in your office before I pretended to shoot you..."

Another nod. Another kiss as he slipped his hand under the cup of her bra. She inhaled sharply as his fingers ghosted over her nipple excruciatingly slowly. "You know I remembered saying it," he stated with a crack in his voice, slipping his other hand under the other cup as he spoke.

She managed a nod through a soft moan as he dipped his head to kiss her newly exposed breast with a kiss so tender and full of love it made her heart skip a beat.

He drew her into a lingering kiss and embrace as he pulled her forward to rid her of her jersey and her bra. She linked her arms around his neck and kissed him. "I figured you did," she replied in a whisper, lying back down again and bringing him to hover over her once more.

His gaze strayed to her practically naked form before him and he swallowed hard before a shy smile covered his face. He brought his eyes back to her face and stroked her cheek gently. "I-I meant it," he stuttered. He took a deep controlling breath. Louder, "Mean it."

Lost for words she nodded mutely as a tear rolled down her cheek. "O-Okay," she finally managed.

He smiled fully at her then like a man finally released from carrying a terrible burden for years. She kissed him and he kissed her back for seconds. "This is still a terrible idea," he said, drawing back for air with tousled hair and wet plump lips but wearing a smile he couldn't stop.

She grinned like a Cheshire cat. "We're not stopping, though, are we?"

In response, he lowered his face to her chest and brought his two hands up to cup her breasts firmly. As he stroked them generously with his fingers and thumbs he licked each nipple. He shook his head as he continued to stare at her all the while. "Nope," he said finally, biting down gently on one hardened peak. She writhed with a low moan and closed her eyes as he continued tantalising her with his lips and extracting pleasure, her fingers drawn to his hair again as she teased his blond curls around her fingers.

As he kissed her lower and lower he became hungrier for every piece of flesh he touched with the tip of his tongue. She sensed him getting lost in the sensations her body provided him, could feel any semblance of uncertainty in what they were doing slowly drift away and, in its place, give way to nothing but a ravenous need for more.

Seeing Patrick Jane so lacking in control soon ignited Lisbon's impatience and she grabbed his head and kissed his mouth deliriously and ardently just as he arrived at her navel. Caught by the element of surprise she flipped him over onto his back easily and kissed him again just as hard. He moaned and brought his hand to the back of her neck, returning the kiss with an equal amount of fervour as his fingers became lost in the soft tendrils of her hair.

She planted kisses on his chest as he got his breath back and unbuttoned his belt and pants as he lay wide-eyed looking at the ceiling as she continued to stoke fires over his body with every kiss. When she slipped her hand into the waistband of his boxers he inhaled gruffly and stared at her wildly. When she first touched him in one long slow stroke he groaned and fought for a controlling breath. She smiled and kissed him on his belly as her free hand busied itself with dragging his pants down from one hip and then the other. She was stroking him more firmly now and then brought two fingers to her mouth briefly, sucking on them slowly to wet them. She stared at him while doing so and smiled mischievously upon seeing him so discombobulated and apparently incapable of speech. His eyes slammed shut when she started up again with her hand, moistness assisting in her making the strokes slicker and faster. "Jesus, Lisbon!" he finally said in a tone that he wasn't sure was a plead for more, or a plead for help.

"You can call me, Teresa, Patrick," she responded quickly with a smile.

He laughed breathlessly. That stopped when he saw her lick her lips and move her hair to one side of her neck purposefully as she pulled his penis free from his boxers. As she straightened her shoulders he moved off the pillow quickly. "No," he said, shaking his head and grabbing her cheek. "Not-not that," he frowned, reddening slightly as he glanced at his boxers.

"I don't mind," she said with a furrow of her brow, "I kinda like it, actually, weird as that might sound."

He tilted his head to the side. Embarrassed, "Well, that's-that's good to know but uh...not...not tonight, okay?"

"Why? You can't tell me any man doesn't like that," she frowned.

How was he meant to explain that that particular sexual act currently only reminded him of Lorelei. Lacking the necessary drive initially to follow through on their kisses he'd closed his eyes and allowed her to do what was necessary to become ready. She'd felt sorry for him, said that it must have been because he was so nervous. Disgusted was more appropriate he had said to himself at the time. So Lisbon performing the same 'move' had now lost any of its former appeal and filled him more with self-hatred than a surge of passion. And that her completing it would also somehow sully and cheapen what they were currently expressing to each other.

He ignored her question and kissed her instead slowly, reinforcing the love he felt for her, getting lost in her lips again. Then without warning he surprised her and pulled on her ankles suddenly with a grin, making her lie flat on her back again.

She laughed and wrapped her arms around him as they continued to kiss. One grind of her hips against him hardened him immediately and he dived in for another kiss, unable to get enough of her mouth. But the incessant cry from his groyne began to override any thoughts of a slow seduction. He wrestled his pants down his hips in an awkward shimmy-shammy that made her giggle, her quick feet helping slip them to his knees. Kissing still, he pulled them off with one hand after toeing off his shoes. He kissed her breasts as he removed his socks and boxers rapidly. She slipped off her panties furiously as impatience got the better of both of them. They moaned together as their lips joined again following the removal of clothing.

As he stared at her as if awestruck anxiousness suddenly washed across her face. He frowned, drawing back on an elbow, a question on his face.

She glanced at the nightstand and blushed.

"You need to...uh...there's some in the drawer there," she said, her face reddening further.

"Oh," he nodded with a shy smile. "Of-of course." He was embarrassed he'd been so caught up in the moment he hadn't thought of birth control himself as he should have.

As he fetched one quickly and unwrapped it she added, "Normally...ah...well, I'm on the pill but...but obviously there's been a gap and...and with the injections I received in that room-"

He stopped and gaped at her in concern. "I-I hadn't even considered...damn, I-I should have, though. Are you...?"

"Everything is clear, no HIV, nothing like that...but I need to get retested in a week or so. Make sure, you know?"

He nodded seriously. "Of course." He looked at the condom in his hand, was only too well aware of his hardness against her softness. "Um..."

Nervously, "You-you still want to?"

He smiled slowly at her. "There's nothing I want more right now than to know what being with you feels like. And of all the reasons why we shouldn't be doing this that is not one of them."

She swallowed thickly with relief. "Wow. I..." She smiled as a tear escaped. "Okay, then."

He grinned and they kissed again as he slipped the condom on. Then she took charge and fondled him between their bodies before centring him against her core. He could smell her arousal and knew she was ready as he took himself in hand and rubbed against her with a measured and teasing stroke. He licked his lips, imagining the warm welcome of her body.

Unable to wait any longer he pushed inside her slowly and gratefully, an explosion of colour hitting his mind like a rainbow as he plunged deeper. Suddenly it felt like he'd been living in a black and white world and had just seen colour for the first time in years. Everything felt brighter as he began to thrust gently. He felt alive and unanchored, free. He felt happiness and relief and fear and a thousand other emotions he couldn't pretend to decipher. As he kissed her tenderly with a tear running down his cheek as they continued to make love another thought occurred to him. A thought that was perhaps more dangerous than any other.

Perhaps he was capable of loving someone again, after all.

Sacramento.

Present Day.

Lisbon pushed her dinner plate away from her, the piece of chicken on it only half eaten along with a smattering of vegetables. "Sorry, I'm not hungry," she offered with a sigh, "it was delicious, though, thanks."

"My pleasure. You know the AG may not want to offer him a deal in the first place," Jane responded.

"If he is able to deliver this Smith person or whatever the hell his name is then you know he'll agree, Jane. Previous crimes against Volker can't be proven – the massacre of that village, the murder of Amanda Shaw. And so on and so on. So that just leaves my abduction and torture.

"If Volker had absolutely nothing to do with the other women taken and presumably been murdered by Smith then it's a done deal. Smith is the imminent threat now - not Volker. If Smith takes another woman – if he hasn't already – then that's where the focus will be. On capturing him as soon as possible, not making Tommy Volker pay for something that may not even stand up in court. Medina is the only witness to Volker's crimes against me and he's hardly beyond reproach himself. And because I didn't even see Volker myself it's not like I can add any weight to his testimony."

She rubbed the bridge of her nose. "It's more logical to focus on Smith - he's currently the one who is more dangerous to the public. That's how the AG will see it."

Jane cleared their plates away in abject silence, unable to contradict her reasoning. "Well, don't despair just yet, Lisbon," he said with some blatantly fake cheeriness. "We may not need Volker's help at all. One of the other leads may pan out first."

"Even if we don't need him to catch Smith he still walks in a year."

"Hm, yes." He loaded the plates in the dishwasher.

She came to stand beside him and put the kettle on. After a second or so she stated, "You don't seem all that upset that Volker will walk in a year."

"What? Of course, I am. I don't like the idea of him getting away with any of this!"

He closed the dishwasher and switched it on.

"Okay," she said, getting Jane's favourite 'apartment' cup (a dark green version of his 'CBI' cup) and a mug for herself from a cupboard overhead. "Just in case you were plotting any revenge coming his way when he's released, I wanted to check."

He hesitated before he took the milk from the refrigerator and she went in for the kill. "I knew it! You are plotting revenge when he leaves prison, aren't you?"

He closed the fridge door and set the jug of milk down on the countertop beside her. "I wasn't..." He shrugged with a sigh.

Annoyed, "But you are now. When you learned he was responsible for what happened to me. Is that why you didn't mention when his sentence was up until you absolutely had to?"

"He shouldn't get away with what he did to you, Teresa. It's not right and you know that better than anyone."

"I know it's not right! But sometimes the criminals don't get punished for what they do, Jane! It's life."

He raised his voice. "Well, I'm not accepting that so easily. And certainly not in his case!"

She got in his face. "No! I won't have this. Not again."

"What are you going on about?"

"You know damn well what I'm talking about. Don't play the fool. Vengeance. Your...sweet spot, if you will."

He scoffed. "Oh, please, don't be so ridiculous. And if you think there was anything sweet about hunting Red John-"

"How is it ridiculous?! Huh? Tell me! Where's the difference? You want to kill someone because they went after a woman you-"

She closed her mouth abruptly.

He smirked. "No, please do go on, finish your thought. Though I doubt you have the nerve."

"Don't change the subject!"

"You brought that subject up!"

Anger flared between them as they stared at each other. She took a step back with a deep breath. "Let me be clear, Jane," she said calmly but determinedly, "I do not want Volker to be your next target for revenge. I doubt very much your wife and daughter wanted that life for you and I-"

"What my wife and daughter wanted for me is none of your damn business," he remarked coolly.

She squared up to him again. "Fine. You tell yourself whatever you want. But I am telling you that I do not want you to go after Volker like you did Red John. He went after me, not you. It's my call, not yours and I'm plenty capable of it myself if I want to kill the son of a bitch. Understand? Do not use Volker as a way for you to get the revenge you think you were robbed of."

Irately, "Oh, so now you want to talk about what happened with Red John, do you? It's a little late for that now, Lisbon. I needed you months ago to discuss that particular subject. Not now. But while we're on the matter, yes, I was damn well robbed of it!"

With hurt and annoyance covering his expression, he turned away from her and marched off to his bedroom.

He put his head in his hands as he sat on the end of his bed. His body shook from the heated conversation he'd just had with Lisbon. "I really am screwing this up," he said to himself. "And I'm allowing her to screw it up too."

A gentle knock came to his bedroom door seconds later. "You still want some tea?" she asked quietly from behind the closed door.

He smiled a little at that.

A second later she raised her voice. "Come on, Jane, open the damn door, my fingers are getting burned here with this peace gesture I'm trying to make!"

His smile widened and he got off his bed with a sigh and opened the door. "I do have trays, you know," he stated still wearing a small smile and looking at the two beverages in her hands. He took his tea off her and she flexed her fingers before resting hers around her mug. He motioned to the bed. "You want to come in?"

Her eyes widened immediately.

He chuckled, "I just meant the room, not get under the covers. But you're welcome to do that too if you're cold."

She rolled her eyes and walked purposefully across the room. "Jackass."

She sat down on the bed and took a sip of tea. After a second of silence, she asked, "How many cups of tea do you think you've drunk in your lifetime?"

He sat down in a chair opposite her and frowned. "Hm. Good question. Let me think about it and get back to you."

"You really think you can recall every cup of tea you've drunk in your entire life?" she mocked.

"It would be quite the feat of memory, wouldn't it?" he replied with some amusement.

She chuckled, "Yeah. Not to mention a pretty pointless exercise, too."

The conversation idled again after a few seconds. "Well, that was my ice breaker. Your turn," she said gloomily after the silence between them became unbearable.

He set his cup down on the floor and leant back in the chair, resting one hand on one of its arms as fingers from his other ran along his mouth. Softly, "This isn't easy, is it? Us? Now?"

She placed her cup on the nightstand. "Was it ever easy?"

"I'd like to think so. Well...at least marginally less stressful than currently. Don't you agree?"

"I guess," she sighed. "Do you-do you think it was because we had sex? Is that why we're biting each other's heads off every disagreement we have now?"

"Sexual tension, you mean?" He studied her openly. "I'd say there was an element of that to it, wouldn't you?"

She reddened and reached for her cup. "I-I don't know."

"You don't find me attractive any longer?" he continued with a knowing smile.

She got off the bed quickly. "Okay, coming in here to sort things out was a bad idea, obviously. Let's just start afresh tomorrow again after a night's sleep." She began to ramble on, "I-I saw that it was Jessica Wells' funeral service tomorrow in the newspaper. I-I know I didn't know her but I'd like to go, anyway. Pay my respects."

"Understandable you feel a certain affinity with her. I'll come along with you."

"Jane, you don't have to do that. I'm not going to disappear on you. You can let me out of your sight."

He quirked an eyebrow. "Well, you can hardly blame me for being a tad skittish where you're concerned, can you? But actually, I was thinking it would give me another opportunity to speak to her husband. And other family members. We know the likelihood is Volker is not involved in her murder but if Smith is nothing but a hired hand-"

"Then reasonable to assume someone close to her hired him to kill Jessica."

"It's always the husband, right?"

"Not always," she said softly as she looked him in the eye.

He smiled sadly. "Good as place a start as anywhere else, though."

"I thought you discounted him."

"I discounted Volker too, initially. Maybe...maybe my judgement was impaired when I spoke to her husband before, too. Seeing her...seeing her in that room and what she'd been subjected to..." He shook his head, "Perhaps I was more affected by what I saw than I wanted to let on."

She blushed slightly before she injected teasing into her tone. "Wow, are you actually saying you might not be perfect, after all?"

He smiled broadly at her. "Just don't tell the others and ruin my reputation as chief know it all, all right?"

She smiled back and nodded, tension ebbing away as they felt a detente being reached again.

As she made towards the door he stood up quickly and took her wrist gently to stop her from leaving. Sincerely, "Look, not to spoil this truce we've got going on here but...but we need to find a way to sustain it."

She shrugged, "What do you suggest?"

He laughed softly. "I have absolutely no idea. But-but I want you to know that I'm on your side in this, Teresa. All I want to do is help you but you need to meet me halfway and allow me to do just that. You need to stop shutting me out. And, in return, if you don't want Volker punished like the scumbag he is I'll try to respect that, as hard as that might be for me. I want us to be friends again. Best friends like we were once. And I need you to know you can still trust me and that I have absolutely no intention of hurting you. You don't need to worry about that anymore, I swear."

Tears pooled in her eyes. Despondently, "I'm not afraid of you hurting me, Jane. I'm afraid of hurting you. Again. And much worse than before."

She smiled sadly at him as she walked through the door.

A/N: Apologies for the lack of plot development in this chapter. Next one I'll try and do much better.