This one was a tumblr prompt from way back. It's a little canon-divergent drabble set after the lockdown episode late in S1– just pretend Mayfair didn't get arrested and Jeller got to go out for their post-lockdown drinks like they deserved.

Enjoy.


Two drinks turned into several.

They hadn't intended it that way, but once they were at the bar– tucked away in some dim, quiet corner, well separate from all the noise and prying eyes– neither of them had felt any sort of inclination towards leaving anytime soon.

Which was how, after a number of rounds and a lot of laughter– for someone who spent so much of their time being straight-laced and professional, Weller was fun, and seemed to know exactly how to set her at ease– Jane found herself sighing, silently disappointed that it was now technically the weekend, with their lack of a case meaning neither of them would be required in the office until Monday.

Which meant two whole days before she would see him again.

"I can't believe we don't actually have an active case," she murmured, trying to keep the wistful note from her voice. Shaking her head slightly, she lifted her eyes to his, her expression incredulous. "Seriously, when was the last time that happened? I don't think I actually know what a work-free weekend is like."

"Quiet," he laughed, leaning in and raising his brows. "No one shoots at you, or tries to blow you up, or makes you run up seventy flights of stairs."

"That does sound nice," she said wryly, shooting him a grin. Then, her gaze dropped, her fingers toying with her glass as her smile faded. When she spoke again, her voice was quiet, her words heavy. "But work is all I know. Ever since I came out of that bag, it's all I've ever done– all I know how to do. So what the hell am I supposed to do tomorrow?"

"Me?" he offered mischievously, the word seemingly slipping unthinkingly from his mouth– and instantly her wide eyes shot to his, seeing his playful expression rapidly transform into one of mortification.

"I– sorry," he sputtered hastily, an undercurrent of true alarm in his voice. "That wasn't– I didn't mean– just pretend I didn't say that."

Swiftly searching his gaze, Jane at last saw what he usually kept so carefully hidden, saw everything she felt reflected in his eyes. And as the smile started to spread across her face, she leaned in close, one hand coming to rest against his chest– feeling his heartbeat racing wildly beneath her palm– before she put her mouth close to his ear, her words a low, teasing whisper.

"Why wait until tomorrow?"

Pulling back slightly, she met his gaze steadily, one eyebrow arching just a fraction in both invitation and challenge.

For a moment he simply stared at her, dumbstruck– and then suddenly his hand was cupping the back of her head and his mouth was on hers, kissing her with a fusion of tenderness and fire that tasted like bourbon and Kurt.

Leaning into him, she kissed back with everything she had, needing this, needing him. They'd danced around one another long enough, had wasted far too much time and effort trying to convince themselves that they needed to keep their distance, and she wouldn't– couldn't– do it anymore.

Pulling back slightly, she met his eyes– and for a brief moment they simply grinned at each other, his thumb stroking gently over her cheek, before she leaned back in and pressed her smiling lips once more to his.

And for the first time, she found herself very, very glad it was the weekend.


Thanks for reading!