AN: Thanks to everyone for your continued support of my stories! As promised, I'm sticking around - I'm planning on really beginning work on the third multichapter of the Into the Blue trilogy today, so look out for that sometime in the next couple weeks!

This is for a guest reviewer who asked for a domestic scene between Jane and Lisbon. I tried to keep things vague (no mentions of timelines or specific events) so that every reader could fit it in canon where they felt it should be.

Disclaimer: I don't own The Mentalist.

Shiver

Lisbon's words are slurring together in a way I've come to associate with sheer exhaustion. She doesn't mumble very often, and I'm suddenly aware of a tangible change in the night air as we sit together, shoulder to shoulder on her couch. Of all the nights we've spent pouring over the Red John files in her office, something is different about this one.

I look over at her, and—sure enough—she's struggling to keep her eyes open. Instead of nudging her awake, as is my first instinct, I begin to speak in the low, calm voice I use when trying to take someone under for hypnosis. I'm not trying to hypnotize her, just get her to sleep. Though she hides it well, I know it's been a long time since she's slept through the night. Red John has seen to that.

Lisbon's breathing changes, and she mumbles again, the words unintelligible and possibly not real words at all. I grab the file she'd been reading before it can slip out of her hands and lean forward to put it on her desk beside me.

She must feel me move, however, because the mumbling becomes more intense, and my name actually escapes from her lips. "Jane," she says in the faintest whisper, and she fidgets in her sleep and shifts towards my side of the couch. I place her file and mine on her desk and sit down once again in the spot I'd just vacated. Lisbon lets out a deep breath, as though she'd been holding it while I was away from her, and her head falls from the back of the couch onto my shoulder.

She says my name again, and I call on every biofeedback technique I know to prevent the shivers that threaten to erupt up and down my spine.

I'm worried about her. I mean, I always have been, but today it's worse than normal. I can't shake the feeling that, somehow, my actions today have put her in more danger than ever before.

I just have no idea what I've done to elicit the feeling.

Frustrated, I mentally walk myself through the day, trying to figure out what event had acted as the catalyst. We hadn't even had time to discuss Red John and the newest developments on that case until dinner, when I'd brought her takeout and we'd sat down together to reread the files for the seemingly hundredth time.

We hadn't found anything new. At least, not yet.

Perhaps it's the case we'd been working on before, then? The murder of a new CEO had seemed unrelated to Red John—but maybe there's a connection I'm missing.

I think about the events of the morning. Rigsby and Cho had tried to interview the wife, who had—predictably—not handled the news of her husband's death very well. They'd only been married a year—and they had a newborn daughter. Grace had unsuccessfully tried to calm the wailing infant before Lisbon had rolled her eyes, reached for the baby girl, and tucked her into her arms.

It always amazes me to see Lisbon with children. Maybe it's because I expect her to be the tough, cold cop and am surprised to see caring, protective Lisbon take over instead. I forget sometimes that she was responsible for raising her three brothers.

She'll make a great mother someday.

Though I know outwardly she shows no desire to begin a family, it's something she's thought about. I imagine it's something she's never allowed herself to hope for because her job has always come first.

However, it's also something she deserves more than anyone I know.

I frown. It's tough to admit it, but it dawns on me that I'm part of the reason Lisbon doesn't have a family of her own. My obsessive search for Red John has also become hers. If it hadn't been for me, she might have given up the case a long time ago. But she's still trying to save me. I know she hasn't given up hope that, if we can get rid of Red John, I'll be able to have a normal life again someday.

And I begin to hope that she can have the same thing.

I picture Lisbon holding a baby girl with dark brown curls and green eyes. Lisbon's smile is radiant. If only I could elicit that smile.

I tense against Lisbon as I realize that I have prompted that smile. Multiple times, in fact. Lisbon shifts again in her sleep, turning towards me, and mumbles my name again.

"Jane."

And a sudden thought occurs to me.

What if I was the one to give her a normal life? What if she could have a normal life…with me?

For me, it's an obvious conclusion to draw. If I'm ever going to move on from Angela, I need to find someone who can accept my past and move past it with me. I need someone who knows about the baggage I carry.

Lisbon is all of those things. In fact, most of the time she helps me carry the baggage.

But could I be those things for her? Lisbon deserves someone who will adore her and worship her. She deserves someone who is head over heels in love with her.

Another obvious conclusion. Though I haven't told her as much, I already adore her and worship her. I am already head over heels in love with her. I am already hers.

This time, I cannot stop the shiver as it makes it way up my spine.

It's almost a relief to admit these things, at least to myself. I've been repressing them for so long.

And it hits me again exactly why I've been repressing these feelings.

Of course.

Because of Red John.

Red John must never find out the extent of my feelings for Lisbon. Finally, I understand the strange feeling I'd experienced earlier.

My falling in love with Lisbon has drawn a target on her back, her forehead, her heart. Those crosshairs will follow her everywhere.

I shiver again but shift to hide it. I place one arm around her shoulders, and she leans into me, her cheek coming to rest upon my collarbone. I kiss her hair lightly, the faintest of touches.

I need to start making more plans. I'm a good conman, but so is Red John. I might not be able to fool him for very long. If he figures out I have a weakness, he'll waste no time in acting. I'll need to be able to ensure Lisbon's safety.

I'm scared for us both—I'm scared for her safety and scared for myself because I don't think I'll be able to survive losing her.

I frown again. The most obvious thing to do to ensure her survival is push her away—distance myself from her and her team.

But I'm a selfish bastard, and I think that would destroy me.

Not to mention the pain it would cause her. I'd be putting her through hell.

Lisbon's hand comes up to rest over my heart as she sleeps on. I'll figure out something. I always do.

So instead of pushing her away, my arms tighten around her, and I pull her body across mine as I recline on the couch, laying us both down so I can sleep beside her. I have no doubts sleep will come easily with her next to me.

I kiss her again, my lips brushing over the top of her head as she lays on my chest.

She shivers against me.