A/N: Not really sure why, but I am overly pleased with the title of this chapter. I'm grinning at it even now. :) See.
Chapter 29 The Scoundrel, The Ring, and The Red
After Lisbon had locked herself into the bathroom Jane had given her five minutes before following. Just as he was about to knock he heard the shower turn on and decided it'd be best to leave her to it. He was admittedly baffled by her reaction, honestly he'd slunk back over to her couch after she arrived and had pretended that he was going to go back to sleep so she'd start a conversation with him. And it had worked, like a charm even, until she'd run off of course. He knew that she had to be tired, she hadn't sleep for a couple of nights, and a shower might just do the trick.
He ambled back to the sofa and to his surprise fell asleep. Half an hour later he heard the sound of the bathroom door opening and feet on carpet making their way to her room. He rolled over and dozed off again.
He woke not too long after, feeling very well rested. He snuck upstairs and used the bathroom. When he was done he glanced in the direction of her room, pleased to note that she hadn't shut the door all the way. She hadn't asked him to leave before storming off either, so maybe there was hope after all. He knew she was mad and confused, but despite that, that she fully expected him to stay. He pushed the door open a little further, being careful not to make sound and peeked in. She was lying on her stomach, blanket pulled up to her shoulders, with her legs and her arms spread out. Her hair fanned out over the pillows and covered her face.
He smiled, then stepped back, bringing the door back to where it'd been before he'd snooped and quietly made his way down the stairs again. It was twelve thirty which meant that she couldn't have been asleep for more than a couple of hours. He wanted to wake her. Badly. Partially because, even though he'd spent the bulk of the day with her yesterday and even though she was just in the other room, he missed her, and partly because he wanted to the get "the talk" over with.
Still she needed her sleep and he was determined to let her have it. So, he started busying himself around her apartment. First, he went through all of her CD's, then her photo albums, and then her books. By three he'd narrowed down a selection of ten books he'd picked out to one and had started reading it. At three-fifteen he decided it was boring and started reading something else.
By five he was halfway through the second book, but feeling hungry. While he was quite enjoying this book, he decided that he stomach was drawing his attention more than the book was and decided to make dinner. It only occurred to him as he started removing the items from the fridge that he brought, that he hadn't eaten at all today. He knew Lisbon hadn't. He supposed that it was possible that she stopped for a pastry on the way home, but more likely she had been too in pain and too tired to have thought of it.
He was going to have to make an effort to see her eat three times a day.
He spent the next half hour cooking. Blueberry pancakes and waffles with a strawberries and whip cream, bacon, sausage, hash browns and eggs. Mmm, mmm, eggs. He heard the sounds of life upstairs and smiled. A few short minutes later and Lisbon was shuffling into the kitchen. He glanced back at her.
"Good evening, dear. I made breakfast."
He could see that she'd tried to tame her hair by sticking it into a bun, and had slipped sweats on under her jersey. She looked well rested if not wary, but he could tell that the smell of food cooking was what had brought her down. The sleeves of her jersey covered her bruises but he watched for signs that they were bothering her. It made him woozy to think about some sleazeball marring her beautiful skin with painful bruises.
She didn't say anything, but sat down at the place setting he'd laid out and rubbed her eyes. He opened the oven and started removing the items he'd finished and placed them on the table. After everything was laid out he grabbed her plate and put a healthy serving of everything, minus pancakes and waffles on her plate, before serving himself.
She waited until he started eating before she picked up her fork. "You cooked," she said in a hushed tone.
He nodded in response while buttering his waffle. He reached across the table and grabbed the maple syrup he placed out earlier and poured that over his waffle as well. He pushed his waffle to the side to allow the syrup to sink in and started on his eggs. She eyed him nervously for a moment, then scooped some eggs into her mouth and groaned.
Jane nearly jumped out of his seat. He glanced over at her as she savored the eggs. "Good?"
Her eyes opened and she peeked over at him. "Why have you never made these for me before?"
He smiled. "I'm sure there'll be plenty of opportunities for me to make them for you in the future," he responded. He saw her stiffen for a moment, but then pushed aside whatever it was that was bugging her and dove into her meal.
Two eggs, three strips of bacon, one sausage, a healthy serving of hash browns, two blueberry pancakes and one strawberry waffle later, Lisbon was slouched back in her seat. "That was delicious, thank you, Jane." She kept her eyes on her plate.
She stood up, grabbed her plate and his and brought them into the kitchen, he followed shortly after and the two managed a slow dance around one another, while cleaning up and putting everything away—never once speaking.
When everything was done Lisbon moved into the living room and sat down on the couch. Jane followed slowly, waiting to see what she might do. She found the book he'd borrowed and raised an eyebrow at it, before slouching into the couch cushions. Still, never speaking.
Jane took a seat next to her. He waited a few minutes, giving her a chance to say something first, but when she didn't, he did. "When I invited you to lie down with me earlier, I was teasing you. You know that, right?"
He glanced over at her and watched as her cheeks reddened. "Jane…"
"Now, don't get me wrong, if you'd come over I would have happily scooted over…"
"Stop," she cut in. "Just stop." Her voice wasn't angry, but it was firm and perhaps a little sad.
"I don't think so Lisbon," he told her just as firmly. "I've let this go on long enough. It's time to talk about this." He gestured between the two of them.
"There's nothing to talk about."
He smiled and turned the rest of his body to face her. Her arms were crossed in front of her chest and her expression was tired.
"There is in fact a lot to talk about," he told her. "For example, why your reaction to a flirtatious joke was to storm off and lock yourself in the bathroom?"
"You were being a jerk," she responded glibly. "You knew I was tired and frustrated, and instead of being sympathetic you were inappropriate. Not to mention that you went against my expressed desires for you to stay with Rigsby. You never Listen, Jane. Your life is in danger and you throw caution to the wind."
He shook his head a little. "Now come, Lisbon. This wasn't entirely my fault."
She snorted.
"Well, what did you think I was going to do? I've been trying to get you alone since the library yesterday and you've kept pushing Rigsby on me, then that comment on the roof last night about fitted sweaters. Talk about being a tease. It wasn't until I quoted it to Rigsby that I found out what that was even about."
Her head whipped in his direction at the mention of Rigsby.
"Oh, don't fret, I didn't tell him anything you'd be ashamed of," he sounded more hurt than he'd meant to. "But since, you wouldn't talk to me I had to get my information from somewhere. I know I said that when I was in my fugue state, and I know that I upset you last night, and more than likely reminded you of my behavior when I was in the fugue state. So, I'd like to talk about it."
Her face made nearly the same cycle it had when she'd stormed off earlier, going from panicked to confused, but stopped just short of livid. He took a deep breath, glad for small miracles as she reined in her control and put on her cop face.
She stood up and started pacing. "I don't think that's a good idea."
Jane swallowed. He had let her think about it too long.
"As a matter of fact, I know it's not," she continued. "I'm calling Rigsby and telling him to come get you."
"No you won't," he said assuredly as she made her way to the stairs. The challenge in his voice made her stop and turn to him.
"You think you're going to stop me?" She crossed her arms, a little stiffly, over her chest. "I want to be alone. I want you to leave."
"I won't. And further, if you call Rigsby and tell him to come here I will cause a scene." He crossed his legs and kept his voice calm and controlled. He watched as her face dropped when she realized he wasn't bluffing.
"Why?" she sulked. She dropped her head in her hands, carefully avoiding her bruised brow.
"Because, I love you," he said, as he laced his hands in his lap and waited.
Her head popped out of her hands and she made eye contact. "What?" she screeched—cop face gone.
Jane cringed. "Yes, well, I was little surprised too." He furrowed his brow at her harried expression. "Not as surprised as you currently are but..."
"Jane," she croaked, but he wasn't about to let her continue until he'd gotten it all out.
He raised a hand warding off her next statement and plowed on. "Last night while I was lying on Rigsby's couch trying to sleep, it should have been the numerous toys shoved under the cushions keeping me awake, but it wasn't. It was thoughts of you. When I removed one of Ben's six inch steam trains from between my fourth and fifth vertebrae it hit me. If that couldn't take my mind off you, nothing could."
She snorted cynically despite herself and he smiled. "Don't be ridiculous, Jane."
He leaned forward and made eye contact. "Three things. First, it's the whole truth. It's taken me awhile to wake up and realize it, but I do, I love you. Very much, and that became apparent last night as I reminisced over our past. It was in the details, Teresa. All this time. I just hadn't slowed down enough to notice or admit it."
Her eyes were starting to glisten, but he knew she wouldn't let one tear fall. Her emotions right now were just as much about her own feelings for him as they were about her reticence. She was confused, and frustrated, and flattered, and tired, and a dozen other things.
He continued. "Second, we are going to talk about this. Talk about your feelings, your hesitations, and after we've exhausted the subject and you have a fair understanding of things—I'll leave if you want me to. I'll give you some time, space, whatever you need, but first you have to hear me out."
He held her eyes and waited for her to respond. She nodded lightly and he smiled. "Good. Now please, sit down."
She made her way slowly back to the couch and sat down. She pulled her legs up under her and looked at him. "What's the third thing," she asked.
He opened his mouth to tell her, but decided to wait. "After we talk, I'll tell you."
She accepted that with a nod as well.
Lisbon hadn't really allowed herself much time to think about her feelings for Jane since yesterday. She'd been so irritated with him at the club last night, but it had taken a back seat when Randle's men had shown up. Still, she couldn't help but draw comparison after comparison to Jane in his fugue state. It was all just so slimy.
She shivered lightly and looked over at the man in question. He'd been sitting quietly for a few moments now. Letting her think about what he'd just declared and what she wanted to say. His gaze was intent and made her resolve soften. He'd always been able to manipulate her, and she didn't feel it fair that what should have just been a sweet confession was now marred by his bad behavior.
Tackle the beast, she thought. She crossed her arms over her chest as her resolve returned. "That was a pretty big confession for someone who was bringing it on strong as you were with Lisa last night."
"Yes, well," he tapped his fingers to his lips, "it was the easiest way to get what we needed in the amount of time we had." He tried to make eye contact, but she refused. He continued. "There's no need to be jealous, Lisbon. If it makes you feel better, the entire night was a nightmare for me. I would have rather have had you punch me in the nose than flirt with her. Not to mention all the men that were falling all over themselves for you. It took all my strength to not blow my cover and come over and claim you with a kiss." He smirked and rested his arm on the back of the couch.
She rolled her eyes. "You would've gotten a punch in the nose if you had. Still," she looked at him pensively, "you did get a kiss after all."
She could see him studying her, but didn't give into his gaze yet.
"She kissed me on the cheek before leaving with SacPD, that's all." He waited, but she had nothing to say. "Okay, here's what it comes down to. You think I acted like the scoundrel I was in my fugue state and aren't sure if you can trust me now."
This time she did look at him.
"Let's stop beating around the bush," he said. "Maybe if you tell me what I did I can put both our minds at ease, because, frankly, this is stressing me out. Being held accountable for behavior I can't remember…"
She could feel her soft scowl vanishing. He had acted like a scoundrel when he had the fugue, and he hadn't done anything so out of the ordinary last night, had he? Maybe it only felt that way because they'd kissed. Maybe she did owe him the right to defend himself. "Okay—I'll just hit the nail on the head, shall I?"
He raised a hand encouraging her to do just that.
"When you were in your fugue state you said you used your ring to get over on women and even said that it worked on me."
He chuckled.
She ignored him and continued. "Then tonight," she pointed at his bare ring finger and watched as he rubbed his thumb over it. "You took it off to get one over on her." She raised a brow at him waiting for his response.
"Yes, and then there was the fitted sweater comment," his voice held a little irritation. "And obviously there was something to do with what I said earlier that got you so mad. So go on, just hit me with it. All of it. Otherwise, I imagine, we'll be here all night."
She shook her head. "Okay, you asked for it. When you first came out of your fugue state, you asked me if we were sleeping together, and when I told you we weren't, you said we must be working toward it and made sure you hadn't missed anything, then when I tried to run for it you did a cold reading on me."
"Your mom, right?" Jane asked.
She felt a chill go up her spine but managed a nod anyway. It was creepy how he did that. "That was just the first night," she continued. "Second night you ran away from Cho, went to a club with the firemen from our victim's battalion and when I got there you'd conned some poor woman into hugging you at the end of a reading. Then you told Van Pelt that one of the firemen got the last round and asked her to thank them for you right before you asked me to stay for your late show because you were best with the late crowd." She looked over at him nervously remembering what he'd done after that, but decided to skip it. "I had to threaten you to get you to go back to the hospital."
She paused a moment too long and Jane jumped in, pointing in her direction. "There's something else there you're avoiding. Out with it."
She could feel her face turning red and looked away from him.
"Hmm. That bad huh? What did I do?" He scooted toward her a little. "Did I kiss you?"
"No!" she said emphatically as she shook her head.
"No." His brow furrowed and she knew he believed her. "I did touch you though."
"No," she said quietly.
"Yes, I did."
She tried not to cringe at his appraising stare, but it was difficult.
"I grabbed you," he asked and when her eyes narrowed, he tried again. "Groped…"
"Jeez, Jane. Could you make this anymore awkward?"
"If you don't tell me," he said in a sing song voice, "I'll just keep guessing."
She huffed. "You grabbed my butt, okay." She glanced sideways at him, and could see a small smile on his lips. It wasn't the cocky look she'd been expecting, but something else that made her stomach flip and made her feel warm all over.
"Very, please continue."
She plowed on despite thinking that maybe this hadn't been such a good idea after all. "At the hospital you told me you were done with police work and that if I didn't let you go that you would call any one of several numbers that you'd gotten that night to be your 'responsible' adult. You also told me that you knew I was tip-toeing around some forgotten tragedy and asked me why I couldn't just let you be happy. You promised you'd help close up the last case and then you laid down." Her words sped up. "I was going to leave, but instead I sat in the chair next to your bed."
"And I told you there was room on the bed with me." It wasn't a question.
She wondered why it was even necessary to tell him anything. It seemed he was figuring things out fairly well all on his own.
He continued. "Then I stole the money from the robbery when I solved the case and bought a diamond bracelet for one of the 'numbers' I'd gotten."
Her brow furrowed until she remembered that he'd talked to Rigsby about this already. "Yes," she confirmed, "that's about it. Excepting that you kissed that number at HQ in front of everyone."
"Well," Jane said quietly, "I did have a busy few days didn't I?"
"Jane," She looked him in the eye, really looked, for the first time since she started listing off his bad behavior, "it's not so much what you did when you couldn't remember who you are, it's that you acted almost exactly the same way last night when you could remember. How can you just flip a switch like that?"
"Tell me," he said. "There was a moment when, before the second night, you felt you'd one upped me, or felt pride at surprising me, a moment when you caught me off guard—what was that?"
She felt her head tilt to the side as she studied his face. How he knew these things was beyond her. "Well, yeah, I guess there was. How'd you know that?"
"I wouldn't have invited you to stay for my late show if I didn't want to impress you. And I wouldn't have wanted to impress you if you hadn't caught my attention somehow. So tell me, what was it?" All very matter-of-fact.
Lisbon started shaking her head. "No, Grace was there too."
"But you said that I asked her to thank the fireman for me and that I asked you to stay for my show."
She felt her brow furrow as she looked away trying to remember. She had said that, and now that she thought about his invitation it had, in fact, been directed at her. "Uh, yeah. I guess that's right. So?"
"I can't remember what happened, so you'll have to be my memory, Teresa. Now, the moment I asked for. I know it popped into your mind already. What was it?" He looked eager.
That made her nervous.
She took a deep breath. "You were telling me all these things you could remember-the uh, seven levels of taxonomy, the complete works of Shakespeare, and some other crap—anyway I mentioned your memory palace. You were surprised and I reminded you that we were friends."
She watched as a smile crossed his face and briefly wondered if she'd really just seen a sparkle in his eye.
"The man I was when I had the fugue was the man I no doubt would have been with women had I never met Angela," he admitted honestly.
Even though the statement made her both happy and sad, she couldn't help but to smile. She turned her body toward his a little.
He continued. "I would have gone after shallow, inept women, who never challenged me. To have a woman who was more than just beautiful, even a successful woman with a mind of her own, tell me that I had told her about my memory palace, the greatest weapon in my arsenal, and then tell me that we were friends, that would have been a big deal in my mind. I would have made it my mission to figure out why I had thought you were special enough to share that information and become friends with."
"Jane, the whole team knows about your memory palace," she reminded him, resting her elbow on the armrest.
"Yes, but the fugue me didn't know that. Plus, Rigsby told me I was trying to get a date with Grace. If by that evening I passed her off to another guy and then invited you to stay and watch my late show, it was because I wanted to impress you."
The whole explanation seemed so silly that she found herself smiling despite herself. Then she remembered why that was nonsense. "Please," she said, exasperation coloring her tone. "You were about to leave the team, Jane. You obviously weren't that impressed."
"Meh," he looked away. "I'm sure my pride was injured when you didn't respond to my advances. I would've come back eventually. At most to figure you out—at least to get you into my bed."
She shot him a disapproving glare.
He raised his hands as if in surrender. "I cannot be held responsible for my behavior in my fugue state."
"It's the perfect excuse isn't it?" She smiled at him briefly. "A dream come true for any man needing a reason for why he slept with a woman he wasn't really interested in. 'The fugue made me do it'," she mocked.
She felt two fingers on her shoulder and jumped, then looked to her right to see Jane gazing at her intently. "The difference being that I was actually in a fugue state," he said. "I was actually interested in you and you never would have slept with that me."
A chill ran up her spine. "That's true," she said ignoring the double entendre in his statement.
He chuckled and she couldn't help but smile at the carefree expression that came with it. The laugh lines, and wide smile. She titled her head and bit her lip. She liked this Jane, wished she could see more of him. For a moment it was even easy to pretend that he wasn't broken and that she wasn't disbelieving.
"I'm sorry that my behavior made you doubt me," he said a little more seriously. "I want you to know that I have been trying to earn back the trust I lost when I left. For months now I've been trying, even before I knew exactly what it was I was feeling. I thought it was working, but I do have a way of making a mess of things."
"You do," she conceded with a couple nods.
"I'm not interested in Lisa." His hand ghosted down her arm, careful not to touch the bruises she'd hidden under her big jersey, and stopped at her elbow. He grasped it and looked her in the eye. "I'm not interested in Katherine, or Aria, or Lorelei." He ducked down a little to better look her in the eye. "I'm only interested in you."
She let out a deep breath that she hadn't realized she'd been holding, and looked away from him. "Maybe you should stop saying things like that," she cringed.
"Like what?" he asked. "Like I love you?"
Her heart jumped uncomfortably in her chest.
"No, I won't. I like how it sounds," he said through a smirk.
She crossed her arms in front of her chest and looked at him.
"This is all really confusing, Jane." His face was stoic now and made her feel guilty. "I'd be lying if I said I wasn't flattered, but I'm not sure this is such a good idea. I think that it's possible that right now we're…" she searched for the right words. "That we've had a small taste of what it'd be like to lose the other. We care a lot about each other, and I'm just worried…"
"That we're confusing our feelings?" he finished her sentence for her.
She nodded and tried to swallow the lump in her throat.
He scooted toward her, and she suddenly realized that he must have been getting closer throughout their entire conversation, because he was now right next to her. "I hope that's not really what you're feeling, Teresa, but I can guarantee you that I'm not confusing anything. It's taken me a long time to get here, and I know exactly what this is." He let that sink in. "As far as last night goes—I acted a part, but I didn't touch Lisa inappropriately, or kiss her. I didn't even dance with her. Then when I was upstairs with her at the club, she snuggled up to me and I didn't even notice because I was listening to what you were doing. Then suddenly her hand was on my lapel..."
Lisbon froze at the unwanted image of Lisa making a pass at Jane.
He continued, "and I pushed her off, told her I was working a sting with the CBI, called Rigsby over and ran downstairs just in time to see you slam your head into Goliath's. Which, by the way, scared the hell out of me."
He reached up and stroked her forehead again. "As far as my ring goes—it was something I'd been talking about with Lisa up to a week before I kissed you. It killed me to take it off, but after I did, I was so distressed that you'd never speak to me again after kissing you, and then I got caught up when you kissed me back, and then I was caught up in protecting you from Sinclair and then I was caught up in being arrested—it was a really long day yesterday."
She chuckled as he pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. "I had every intention of putting it back. I forgot, and now I'm thinking that maybe that was my subconscious way of moving on." His arm wrapped around her back, and he leaned in and kissed her forehead.
"Jane," she let her head fall forward into his chest.
"Yes dear?"
"I've spent the last several years with people accusing me of having feelings for you." She could feel his chest jump lightly as he chuckled.
"Don't you?" he asked knowingly, but she was pleased to note the slightly hopeful tone in his voice.
"Maybe," she grumbled as she grasped chunks of his shirt in her fists below where her head still rested. "My point is…only people who know us, people who have seen us work together, and who have seen me stand up for you, even when you are being a prick, could possibly think that I might have feelings for you."
He pressed a slow series of kisses over her cheek.
She swallowed thickly. She had to get this out, or she never would. "Someone who might have some sort of vested personal or professional interest in you or me—enough interest to stick a pillow under my head after knocking me unconscious."
She felt his chest stiffen under her fingers. He pulled away and looked her in the eye intently. "Teresa, what are you saying?"
She breathed out. "I think we know who Red John is."
A/N: Was Lisbon's epiphany what you thought it was? I hope Jane's confession was up to par and satisfying too. Also, I read this to my mom when I finished writing it and she asked me if I was hungry when I wrote it. I wonder why she thought that...
Okay, as promised here are response for all the wonderful reviewers without accounts.
annflower: I hope the chat was soon enough. I'm like you, don't like to be left guessing, and I'm not a big fan of angst. Meh... It's funny, because I don't think I meant for it to progress as slow as the show, but I couldn't bring them together too quickly in my mind either. The result is this seemingly never ending story. Haha! But they're working on it now...
Tina: Yeah, I really wanted to show that Jane is making an effort. Even though he's still himself and does dumb things that get him in trouble, I thought it important to show that he is making a change in his thought process. Plus I think we can all agree that once Jane decides to do something, he just goes ahead and does it. Lisbon won't be able to get far now. (Insert Jaws theme song here.) I'm not a big fan of angst either. Lisbon's not going to be super easy, but as you can see from this chapter, she won't be impossible either. :)
Nat: I know, I'm sorry about that. I was being vague intentionally with her feelings. It's also why I tried to keep her sections shortish. I didn't want to betray what her epiphany was really about lest it would ruin this chapter, so I kept her feeling minimal. I hope this chapter helped clear up her feelings somewhat though. Thanks for being patient with me.
Guest: That's so flattering that you read it all in one go and pretty impressive too! I'm sorry you were sick, but I'm glad you liked my story! By the way, your English is great. Thanks for reviewing.
Thanks again to all my lovely reviewers. You're awesome. I've started the next chapter and hope to have it too you soon!
