A/N: It's all mush. A date night. Filled with Jane and Lisbon teasing banter, as they open up in parts about the past and get to know each other in a new light.
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Jane had made himself relatively scarce for the rest of the day. She wasn't sure if this relieved or intensified her anxiety about their coming evening. Or even if anxiety was the right word to describe what she was feeling. Excited? Yes, of course, how long had she wanted this to happen, even if she hadn't been able to admit it to herself? Apprehensive? Definitely. This was Jane we were talking about here, and the one thing she knew was it wasn't going to be dull.
As well as he might have known her, he was also infamous for not letting her feelings get in the way of a good plan.
The reality of their new reality was slowly starting to sink in. She was relieved he was happy to keep things discreet in the meantime. Her last office romance just before Jane returned wound up being everybody's business and ended in a well-publicised, complete and utter shitstorm, embarrassing her to the bone. She'd much rather avoid the gossips and conjecture for as long as practically possible. Reputation was extremely important to her.
But his current scarcity was annoying her. She liked having him around. Not only was his absence making her increasingly suspicious of his plans for their evening, but she was also missing him. Yearning for that smile, that smart mouth that made her laugh, smirk, and roll her eyes, that faint musk of comfort.
She eventually managed to corner him after lunch in the bullpen.
"Jane, you've been avoiding me"
"I haven't done anything of the sort," he denied flamboyantly. "I've just been busy," he said with a wink.
She smiled so he knew she wasn't serious. "I need to know where we're going tonight," she asked with a flirty pout.
"No, you don't. A little mystery never killed anybody."
"Well…" she started to debate, thinking of numerous case examples she could spout back at him.
"Yeah, okay. Bad choice of words in this line of work," Jane interrupted in realisation. "It's a surprise, so no."
She huffed. "Just so I can dress appropriately," she reasoned.
"Dress code is sequins and feathers"
"Jane…"
"Wetsuit and flippers?"
She glared back at him. He grinned in satisfaction.
"Relax. We're going somewhere casual. Somewhere you'll have a bit of fun. Don't overthink it. Jeans and a t-shirt are fine."
"Oh… okay…" the informality of it surprising her. She half-expected him to be taking her to the finest place in town, but then again, it was Jane. The only thing expected was the unexpected.
He gave her a million-dollar grin and bounded away toward the break room.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Wylie stood alone in the breakroom, leaning against the central table, flustered and talking to himself.
"So Vega, I've got tickets to that Blues Festival, and I was wondering…"
"Not 'Vega', Michelle," he corrected himself.
He huffed and tried again. "Michelle, I've got tickets, and I was…"
"You all good there?" Jane announced as he entered.
Wylie spun around quickly, his cheeks turning a crimson red. "Yeah, Yep," he stammered in reply.
"Calm down, it's just me. Not Vega. I mean, Michelle," Jane said with an amused smirk.
"Right," Wylie reassured himself.
"So what are you rehearsing? Planning on asking her out?"
"No. Well, yes. Maybe," he stuttered awkwardly.
"Those are the three possible replies," Jane replied a tad cockily.
Wylie exhaled in exasperation.
"I just have tickets to a festival I know she'd enjoy. I'm not necessarily asking her out on a date, but I know she'd like it and I'd like to hang out with her outside of work. I've just never really been good with this kind of stuff."
"If you know she'd enjoy it and it's just an outing between colleagues, then what's the issue? Just ask her," he said bluntly surveying his avoidant reaction carefully. "But obviously, you want to ask her out on a date, but you're afraid, so going as colleagues is far less
Wylie's cheeks flushed again as he guffawed back at him.
"I don't care what anyone says. You are psychic."
"Uh, not really. It's fairly obvious, Wylie, sorry. It wouldn't take half a genius to figure that one out."
Wylie looked crestfallen into his hands, then looked up at the older man with more life experience, desperately hoping for some kind of advice. "Well how did it go with you and Lisbon when you first started?"
"What do you mean?"
"You and Lisbon are a thing, yeah? Dated, dating, more than just colleagues..."
"No. Well, yes. Maybe," Jane stuttered awkwardly in reply.
"Those are the three possible replies," Wylie replied mockingly.
"It's complicated," Jane dismissed. "And none of your business."
"Right," replied Wylie with a grin. It was always a savorable moment to get one-up on Jane.
Jane looked back at him in amused defeat. He still didn't know why Lisbon would insist to keep their relationship a secret when this reaction from Wylie clearly demonstrated his point. Most people assumed, and he couldn't blame them either, they'd always been inexplicitly close. But he'd respect her wishes regardless.
"Well, hot tip. Wearing her down over a decade isn't overly effective, nor time efficient," he shared as he steeped his tea.
"You don't say," Wylie said with an exasperated shoulder drop. "I'd be so old then."
Jane scoffed and gave him a humoured look.
"Uh… Um… Not that thirty is old or anything. Or forty. Or however old you are. Not saying you're old. You aren't old. Age is just a number, right? I didn't say you were old," he rambled on awkwardly. "Anyway, I'm going to go," he stammered. "Thanks for the chat, Jane."
"Any time," Jane laughed as Wylie scurried out of the room, tail between his legs.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
She finished work on time without seeing Jane for the rest of the day.
She found that her heart was fluttering with anticipation and nervous excitement. Jane, as always, eliciting emotions in her that had been dormant for some time or ones she genuinely hadn't experienced. She was surprised she felt this way, given that it was just Jane. Spending time with him wasn't anything new. The hours they'd spent on stakeouts, out-of-town cases, work dinners, and closed-case drinks over the years. But oh how the rules of the game had changed.
The butterflies in her tummy were far more intense than pre- any first date she'd ever been on. Maybe it was because there was more to lose? Or maybe because she'd subconsciously wanted this for so long, and it was finally happening. She took a deep breath to steady herself.
Despite having less than an hour to get ready, the clock tick seemed to tick by ever-so-slowly to 6 pm. After a quick rinse off in the shower, she carefully selected the laciest matching set of undergarments from her otherwise practical and sensible beige and black riddled drawer. She threw on her favourite pair of jeans. They were comfy as anything and hugged her in all the right places. Coathangers scraping across the rack, she flicked through her tops. She ummed and ahhed about what to choose, holding up her various selections in front of the mirror. She wanted to look the part for him, but also didn't want to give off the sense of trying too hard. God only knows what fun the mentalist would have psycho-analysing her choice of her outfit. Although her choice of underwear was a clear indication of where she intended the night to eventuate. She laughed and shook her head at herself at how ridiculous she was being, and picked a deep green top that showed just the right amount of cleavage.
At 5:59 there was a tap at the door. She hurried over and flung it open without even attempting to disguise her enthusiasm. She was met by the comforting view of the man that plagued her brain and warmed her heart. Freshly shaved, golden curls on the edge of his forehead, the glint in his eye, that smile that meant everything, freshly pressed shirt and vest, with a comforting rustic cologne. There was a part of her that just wanted to grab him by the scruff of the shirt and not even bother leaving the house for the evening.
"Hey," he said softly "You look incredible," he said as he looked her up and down, a twinkle in his eye. She could feel herself blushing.
"Are you ready?" he continued.
"I'm not sure if I'll ever be truly ready" she bemused back.
She slung her bag over her should as he grabbed her hand firmly and led her out the door.
"Your chariot awaits," he said as they walked down the path toward the most gorgeous of vintage cars.
"1930s Cadillac V16 in mint condition. It's ours for the evening." He explained as her face wielded a look of disbelief and amazement, as she looked back at him.
"Wow, it's amazing," she said lacing her fingers playfully along the body of the car, the metal cold against her touch. "This is the same car as the graduation gift from my grandfather… How did you do this Jane?"
"A magician never reveals his secrets," Jane smiled as he swung a door open for her, acting the perfecting gentleman. "Ladies first" he gestured, guiding the small of her back as she stepped up into the car.
She sat and looked over the interior in awe. There was just something so supremely elegant about its robust features and rudimentary controls. It made her feel positively regal.
"Do you even know how to drive this thing?" she taunted.
"Guess we'll soon find out" he replied as the engine started running. She let out an involuntary squeal as the car kicked into gear.
"Where are we going?" she enquired
"Oh, you'll find out soon enough" he humoured back flashing a cheeky boyish grin.
The mystery, whilst part of the frustration, was a huge part of the allure. She eased herself back into the seat and enjoyed the novelty of the ride as they cruised through the dimming Austin streets.
They eventually found themselves in a part of Austin she'd never traversed before, her sense of suspense building, as they ventured into unexplored territory. He brought the car to a stop.
"Where are we?" she tried again, genuinely bewildered.
"A little taste of the past, a little taste of home," he smiled. "Come on."
Down the sidewalk, they ambled until they stood before a dingy, unsuspecting looking tavern. "The Windy City," a plaque next to the well-beaten door read, as she squinted her eyes in apprehension. He pushed open the door and held his hand out to usher her through, his hand on the small of her back as he did.
There was a warm wave of chatter throughout the establishment over the hum of the jukebox emanating against one wall, behind the array of pool tables. The giant silver bean in the center of the entranceway stood ostentatiously, she immediately recognised it as Cloud Gate, the infamous artwork in Millenium Park that reflected the Chicago skyline impeccably if you looked at it the right angle. Artworks littered the walls of key Chicago landmarks; the Willis Tower, Navy Pier, the Chicago River, and its bridges; portraits of Oprah Winfrey, Al Capone, Robin Williams, and other Chicago-born alum, Bears and Bulls memorabilia. The smell of melted cheese, deep-fried goodness, and stale beer accompanied the various clacks and bangs of bar games being played.
"As all flash and pizzazz most pretentious restaurants can be, I thought something a bit more down-to-earth could be a bit more fun."
Her face lit up with childish glee. It was amazing how he knew her so well. She'd take a night at a bar like this over a high-class soiree any day.
"I can't believe this," she said scanning the walls with wonder as Jane led her to a booth.
"A little Chicago right here in Austin," he smiled at her, drinking in her amazement, bringing him his own euphoria. The one foolproof way to make him feel such a sense of happiness was seeing that glimmer in Lisbon's eye.
They'd known each other for years and years, but there was still a nervous first-date energy that sizzled between them. They perused the menu filled with basic hearty foods, greasy pub favourites, and the heart of Chicago food culture.
"Oh gosh," she exclaimed. "I haven't had a proper pizza pie since I was a teenager."
"Friday nights, your friends from band strapping on those funny hats, then going to get a slice of pie…"
She gave him a cautious stank eye. She was so used to Jane probing her, poking at her to gain any sort of insights into her past, to know more about her personal life, and gain more material to work his sneaky little psychic magic. Try as she might, she always kept that fierce line keeping personal and professional clearly separate. But even though all those rules had changed now, it still felt odd opening up. Odd, but cathartic. Old habits proving tricky to break, but malleable.
"Yes, I used to meet up with a few fellow band geeks every Friday night after practice," she relented to his surprise. "We'd go for pizza, drink bottomless soda, and just talk crap until it was time to go home."
"Gossip about boys?"
"Me? Never," she lied with a smile.
"Then of course, afterward, a little spin the bottle in some wood-panelled rec room," he teased.
"Whatever you say," she rolled her eyes slightly, remembering him tease the same words at Redmund High years ago. "Can just imagine what your Friday nights as a teen would've been like. Boy Wonder working a crowd, adoring fans fawning over him and his brilliance. You'd have your pick of the bunch, I'm sure."
Jane chuckled. "No, I was always switched on. If the carnival crowds were there, I was in work mode, on the look out for the next sucker."
She looked at him disbelievingly.
"Those acrobats that travelled with the carnival on the other hand, yeesh!" he said with a cheeky wink. She rolled her eyes and giggled.
They placed their food orders, complete with bottomless sodas for old time's sake.
"Ooh, can we get chicken wings too?" she asked over-enthusiastically. "For while we wait."
"Of course," Jane added her request to their order, "and in the meantime, I perhaps I can teach you a thing or two on that," he said nodding towards a small table pieced with wooden dowels hosting little red and blue plastic men strategically placed throughout.
"Foosball? Oh please," she snorted with laughter. "I'll be the one giving the lessons."
"Is that right?" he mused back.
They took their places either side of the table and flicked the tiny ball into the centre of the field.
He caught a sheer thirst for blood in her eager eye that was more than intimidating. The insults flew thick and fast, as she trash-talked him to pieces.
"You're going dowwwn, yo!" she exclaimed.
"You do realise, this is just a game," he pointed out.
"I'm not competitive, I just like to win," she said as she poked her tongue out the corner of her mouth, her arms and wrists working maniacally.
"Ohh ho ho!" she exclaimed as the ball sunk into Jane's goal, "Did that hurt?"
"What?"
"Did that hurt? I bet it did," she carried on with a little victory dance.
They returned the ball into play and the verbal onslaught continued as the game ramped up a notch, Jane determined not to make an utter fool of himself.
"That's cheating, that's spinning, just spinning," he protested.
"Yeah, there's spinning in Chicago, so suck it up princess!" she shouted with another violent wrist flick, sending the ball flying into Jane's goal.
Lisbon cheered. "I'm sorry. Is everyone here watching this man get beat by the girl?"
He watched as Lisbon morphed into a gorilla before his eyes, walloping and hollering in victory.
"I'm going to give you some advice," he uttered to the waitress returning with their drinks Never play foosball with a woman that's raised three brothers. It's exhausting."
"One more round!" Lisbon cried out. "Not scared, are you?"
"I am a little, to be honest," Jane said quietly just so the waitress could hear. "Okay, one more round," he called back to his over-enthusiastic date.
After being successfully humiliated by Lisbon, not managing to score a single goal himself, they slid back into the booth. Her smug cheerfulness and victorious exhilaration were more than enough to heal his only ego-deep wounds, her radiant energy infectious, as they shared flirty glances and smiles whilst sipping their sodas.
She smiled as she spotted a photo on the wall above the booth they were sitting at.
"I remember dad once took us all to a White Sox game," she reminisced fondly. "Maybe three months before we lost mom. All five of us. It was quite the novelty, we didn't go out like a family that much. We had hot dogs and sno-cones. It was the best day ever," she said with a big grin. "Even though the White Sox lost."
He took her hand in his gently. It was so comforting and pleasant having her open up so freely about her personal past, something she kept so majorly underwraps in the eons he'd worked with her.
"I don't think I've ever heard you talk about your mom?" she piped up.
"My life story is sad and miserable enough without having to delve too far into my upbringing," he said with an awkward chuckle, avoiding eye contact.
"Yeah, but everyone's got a mom, right? And a story to go with it. It becomes a part of shaping who we are."
"I'd hope not. Or maybe it just explains a lot," he mused back at her with a head tilt and sighed deeply. "I'm not entirely sure of the early story, to be honest. She had her own issues. Dad and she were never really together - he was carny folk, she wasn't. She either couldn't, or didn't want to keep taking care of me, so I spent a little time Carson Springs CPS foster home hopping. Until they tracked down my Dad, and he took me in. Didn't see or hear from her ever since."
"You never tried looking for her?"
"Well sure, that crossed my mind as I got older. But the way the carnival traveled, it didn't really make it all that possible. Dad kept me busy enough, and would quash the idea whenever I brought it up. Then I met Angela and I didn't think of it too much anymore."
"I mean, she's my mother. If she wanted to have anything to do with me, she'd find me."
She nodded. It was hard to empathise. At least he had the potential of a mother, it was difficult to imagine squandering that, even with the toxicity it could bring.
"But yes, I did. There's something about starting a family that makes you really think of your own. Turns out she died when I was an early teen," he said morosely. "Lung cancer."
"Oh," Lisbon said quietly, "I'm so sorry, Jane." She ran her hand over his knuckles and covered them with her palm.
"You needn't be," Jane said with a forced smile. "I don't remember much about her, just that she had curls like Charlotte, and a laugh that sounded like a foghorn in the mist."
She smiled as his face softened at the memory.
"This is all rather depressing chatter though, not really what I had in mind for the evening," Jane emphasised. "Is this what it's like dating a Federal Agent in serious crimes? Can't get enough of that depressing stuff at work, so this is your idea of a good time too?"
"I like hearing about it. I want to know," she said impassioned, ignoring his jab. "I want to know everything there is to know about you."
"If you knew absolutely everything there is to know about me, this might be the first and the last date."
"Really? There are things I don't know about you that are worse than the things I actually do know about you?"
He paused and strained in thought. She knew of so much; his unscrupulous conman days, his padded wall breakdown, Vegas and its crimes, Carter and the jury, the way he schemed and manipulated to get through life. "Yeah, okay. You have a really good point there."
She shrugged smugly.
"You've seen the worst side of me. The darkest of my dark. And you're still here," he said with a shade of earnestness.
"What can I say? I'm a sucker for a trainwreck," she teased, taking a gulp from her soda and crunching on a piece of ice.
"Federal Agent obsessed with tragedy, of course you'd be obsessed with me too. I'm the biggest tragedy there is, complete with great hair, charm, and a killer smile."
She laughed. "Don't forget ever-so modest."
"That too," he smiled back.
The server slid their wings onto their table and Lisbon's face shone. Jane watched her reactions candidly, carefully noting the way her cheeks dimpled as she smiled, the glimmer in her eye, cataloging it conscientiously. Whoever thought the way to a woman's heart was through diamonds and expensive gifts had never seen Lisbon's face light up when presented with a tray of chicken wings cooked to perfection. Food was the true way of the soul.
"Tell me something I don't know about you," his earnest eyes drinking her in with adoration, her slightly blushed cheeks captivating his full attention.
"Well Mr Psychic, I'm fairly certain you know everything there is to know about me"
"Hardly. You're still very much a mystery to me. I had no idea you'd be the type of girl to read a Cosmopolitan-type magazine, yet there's one center stage on your nightstand."
She gave him a sheepish look. "Well I didn't have a mom or an older sister through those adolescent years. Cosmo was the big sister I never had. And yeah, I'll still buy a copy from time to time."
"See! Something new already," he smiled, his head in one hand as he leaned against the table, fawning toward her. "Tell me more."
His eager eye was more than enough to make her face flush, the charm this man could muster when he turned it on was a travesty. "I might have had a secret crush on a certain blonde-haired consultant for a very long time," she mumbled a little shyly and coyly, pursing her lips together.
"Eh. I already knew that. Try again," he dismissed, his eyes a twinkle.
Her jaw dropped open in fake surprise as she shoved him playfully. "I don't know, what do you want to know?"
"Guilty pleasure?"
"Ice-cream and old movies, you already know that too."
"Greatest fear?"
"I'm not afraid of anything"
"Maybe opening up and being honest about yourself? Letting another human being close to you? Commitment?"
"Oh ha ha"
"Being a failure at your job?"
"Not possible," she said with a mouth full of chicken. "I'm great at my job."
"Yeah, because of your kick-ass consultant," he replied with a cocky smile. "What then?"
"Hmmm… I've never liked snakes so much? The way they move creeps me out. Does that count?"
"It's not really a fear though, is it?"
"Yeah, well like I said. I'm not really afraid of anything."
"Our fearless leader," he announced triumphantly.
"Now, you. I got this one," she declared confidently. "Your greatest fear? Losing me. My death."
"Nice try. It's clowns."
"Lies, you were fine on the Valiquette case. And you were a carny kid! Pffft."
"Okay… guns then"
"You seem to find you're way around them well enough when it suits you," she rebutted.
"Okay, yeah fine," he surrendered. "You're right. 100% right."
"Ha!" she exclaimed triumphantly. "Take that, Boy Wonder!"
"So modest about it too," he chuckled. "So, you're not allowed to go and die on me, okay?"
"You got it," she said with a grin.
"But how does that work," he said, his brain ticking. "Shouldn't your greatest fear be losing me then too?"
"Ehhh, I've lost you before. You always come back," she joked.
"Not like that. Like my death…"
"You've died before too. I've held you dead in my arms as I pulled you out of that lake. You still came back. You're like a cockroach," she continued to humour him.
He gave her a playfully wounded look in return.
She linked her arm around his gently and abashedly placed her head on his shoulder with a squeeze. "You're not allowed to go and die on me either. Or run away again."
He looked at her tenderly. "I think I can manage that. Especially when I have you around to protect me."
"Now if you could try not to get yourself into so many precarious situations, that would make my life a lot easier."
"Always a method to the madness," he rebuked. "Okay. Favourite CBI case we've worked on together?"
"Seriously, favourite case? They're all murders or kidnappings or something terrible! Could you be any more macabre?"
"Yeah, but we've had some fun along the way. Given the circumstances."
She took another bite as she thought. "Exposing Brenda Shettrick, that was good. Very satisfying."
"Not technically a case"
"Mmm, okay. The Tibbs case. It was nice to get an arrest in that actually prevented a whole bunch of murders, rather than put him away after the fact. We saved lives. And I got to meet Willie Schubert, and make a little difference in his life."
"Once again, not technically a case"
"Well aren't you fussy, perhaps I just don't want to pick one that centers around a dead body!" she justified. "How about you then? Favourite case?"
"That's easy. The Dellinger case of course. The first case we ever worked together," he said with a wistful grin. "Well, I suppose I technically didn't work it, I certainly didn't get paid for my contributions."
"You and your technicalities," she laughed. "Oh sure, of course. The nostalgia of it. Your big break into law enforcement, so to speak."
"And don't forget, meeting an angel like you."
She smiled shyly. "Yes, that's a special one."
"And it was a lot more than that too," he sighed. "I'd been a con-artist, a scammer, a charlatan, a down-right, no-good thief for so long. It cost me everything, I paid the ultimate price."
She squeezed his knee sympathetically.
"Then you gave me this opportunity to help with the case. And I was able to use my skills for something other than tricking people for financial gain. I was able to actually help do something good. Catch a killer. It was the first time I felt… I don't know, gratified, happy, and proud of what I'd done, rather than a lingering sense of shame I was always forced to repress. Felt like I actually made a positive difference. And you did that. You were able to make that happen for me."
"And was punished accordingly for the years and years afterward," she laughed with him. "We make a really good team, we caught a lot of bad guys."
"We certainly do," he smiled as they locked eyes, a certain energy reverberating between them.
"You have a little something," Jane breathed, indicating towards his mouth.
He leaned in and wiped the corner of her mouth with his thumb. Her heart skipped a beat when the coarse pad of his thumb made contact with her lip. She froze, completely entranced as he brought his digit to his mouth and licked the sauce clean, feeling herself shudder as she watched his tongue dart from his mouth with deliberation, a tingle emanating to her core. Brisk memories of the things that tongue had done leaping involuntarily to her mind. She gulped awkwardly.
"Something the matter there, Agent Lisbon?" Jane teased knowingly, trying to pretend the subtle gesture and her reaction didn't have the same effect on him too. "I bet this is one of those times you wished I couldn't read minds."
She bit her lip and averted her darkened gaze.
He clacked his tongue with a tsk. "Such dirty thoughts," he admonished in a husky voice.
Her cheeks couldn't go redder if she tried.
He lapped up the vision of her. Green eyes against her pink cheeks. Mousey brown hair framing her flustered expression as she looked at him tentatively with coy adoration. He squeezed her knee under the table and slowly ran his fingers up the length of her thigh, edging his face closer to hers so he could feel the warmth of her breath. She quivered at his touch, his close proximity further spiking her arousal.
"Jane," she ached in a stuttered hiss, as she reluctantly jerked her knee away from him and desperately tried to recompose herself.
He chuckled in response. "You started it."
"I… I did nothing of the sort," she stammered in protest.
"Your eyes, Lisbon," he hummed. "Gateways to the soul, you're innermost desires and thoughts."
"There is a time and a place for… certain things," she said stubbornly, almost as if to convince herself more so than inform him.
He chuckled once more. "Have it your way."
They devoured their shared pizza pie, a deep-dish molten monstrosity, as they teased and bantered back and forth. She couldn't remember a time she'd laughed so much, her sides ached and her cheeks overstretched by her unwavering smile. His eyes sparkled with pure joy, not a shroud of past haunts detectable as he laughed along with her.
He schooled her in a quick game of pool, gaining back some dignity from the foosball whitewash from earlier, resisting the temptation to put on a similar gorilla show to Lisbon's earlier performance. He settled with a gloating smirk, but it didn't dampen her smile.
He ambled over to the jukebox and put his quarters in, pushing the buttons determinedly.
"Come on," he invited, indicating to an empty area between the game tables. "Dance with me."
"Here?" she protested.
"Yes, here. This is our song."
"We have a song?" she humoured bashfully.
"I can pretend to be that mean, cold-hearted boy you worshipped from afar but never spoke to once more," he joked knowingly, as she relented into his arms with a palatial grin.
"Except I wouldn't mean and cold-hearted, perhaps aloof and emotionally unavailable. And you didn't need to worship me from afar, you worshipped me standing right next to you all those years… except for the last two, then yes, I suppose 'worshipped from afar' is accurate. And you've spoken to me plenty. Yelled, ordered, berated, even."
"Right… worshipped? Don't flatter yourself," she snorted with a grin.
"How about adored? Idolised? Deeply treasured?
"Maybe appreciated. Cared about. Valued. Admired," she said affectionately as she played with the curls at the base of his neck.
"Hmmm, yeah okay. I can live with that"
She grinned, remembering the last time they danced to this song, many years ago at a high school reunion in Rancho Rosa after closing the case. She remembered how she felt as he held her in her arms back then. Even then, so long ago and so early into their working relationship, there was also such a connection, one that brought comfort, content and made her heart swell. She almost chastised herself at the thought, so many years they wasted realising how far back these feelings had been manifesting.
But here she was now, gluttonously in the comfort of his arms. But Jane pulled her body in closely an arm snaked around her waist, the other holding her hand in his. She nestled her head into his shoulder, just as she did many years ago, but this time with so much more history and hours together behind them. She closed her eyes and swayed, as he rested his cheek upon her head, matching her rhythm.
"Touché Jane, touché," she mumbled into his shoulder as the music whisked her away.
More than words is all you have to do to make it real.
Then you wouldn't have to say,
That you love me,
'Cause I'd already know
And those words suited them ever so brilliantly. They did then, and they still did now. She had yet to tell him in so many words that she loved him, despite his heartfelt confession and their intimate moments. And it didn't bother him overly much. He could see it in the grin behind every teasing quip in their constant flirty verbal jousting. He could see it in the way she stole glances at him, despite every time she tried, he was already looking at her. He felt it in every caring touch, the way her pulse raced when he got that tiny bit too close, in the passion when she kissed him.
He knew the evening was going well, as he held her tight and they swayed to the music. He felt mildly guilty over the cheap tricks he had used in their evening so far. The nostalgia triggers were a surefire way to trigger fond memories and induce strong emotions, almost a guaranteed way to ensure a successful date. He definitely had an advantage, the better part of ten years working together, he had certainly learned a thing or two about her. But in a way he almost felt like he was manipulating her, like a true charlatan does, using his insights and observations to achieve his desired outcomes. 'Cheap tricks or attentive charm,' he argued with himself, justifying his methods for the evening. His intentions were pure, her happiness was like a drug to him. It wasn't like he was purely trying to seduce her, he just wanted to honestly and simply, make her happy. And surely there was nothing wrong with that.
She fit into his arms so perfectly, just as she had done many years before. Her body up against his like this brought him such comfort and made him feel like everything was good in the world. He loved her so much it ached.
The song came to an end. Lisbon pulled away from him with a gentle, wistfulness about her. He resisted the urge to kiss her, not wanting to push his luck with the PDA, but to him, she was the only one in the room.
He grabbed her wrist and twisted it so he could read her watch, completely neglecting the fact that he was wearing one of his own.
"Look at the time!" he exclaimed. "Now come on, we're going to be late," he insisted holding out his hand.
"There's more? Where are we going?"
"Somewhere more fabulous," he said with a grin.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
A short drive later, they ambled down an alleyway in a brighter part of Austin, Jane's cheerfulness peaked, as was Lisbon's sense of intrigue.
Jane stopped abruptly at a bright purple door with an intricate white rabbit adorned on the entrance.
"And down the rabbit hole we go" he chimed as he rapped upon the door.
'Tap tap tap tap tap, tap-tap-tap', the rhythm like a password.
"What is this place?" Lisbon questioned inquisitively once more.
Jane didn't get a chance to answer as a small window on the door opened and a beady pair of eyes stared back at them both.
"Password," the voice grumbled.
"We're all mad here," Jane replied, hands in his pockets, rocking back and forth like a schoolboy. Lisbon looked back at him supremely confused.
The window snapped shut, and the chains rattled with the sounds of locks unlocking preceding the heavy door sliding open.
"Come on," he said as she reached out to Lisbon. She clearly had her reservations. Peering down the dimly lit hallway, he couldn't blame her skepticism.
He grabbed her hand as he started down the hallway. They rounded the corner to find a makeshift casino of half a dozen poker tables and a roulette wheel with about 50 people filling the room.
"Great poker game about to start" he bemused, murmuring into her ear.
"Jane," she hissed angrily. "An underground casino, are you joking!? This is all kinds of illegal! And in case you forgot about your day job, we're law enforcers, which suggests we should probably consider, oh I don't know, abiding by the law in our off time! This could cost us our jobs!" she ranted, anger seeping out of her words like venom. "What were you thinking!"
He snickered. Although somewhat childish, he enjoyed seeing her like this. Like an angry little princess, someone stole her tiara. His mischievousness fed off the steam coming from her ears, it wasn't truly a good week at work if he hadn't made her this angry at least once.
"I am leaving. Now. And so are you," she growled, pulling him towards the exit.
"Mayor Goodwin," Jane called out across the room whilst resisting getting dragged away. He waved.
"Ah, Jane," Goodwin waved and beckoned them over.
"It'd be rude if he left without saying hello to the mayor, Lisbon. He's the mayor for goodness sake," he added in his best smart-arse tone.
She looked conflicted. The mayor was here, was he crooked? Or was Jane up to something more, as always? She was fearful to be recognised here. He watched her face as she processed this information and eventually released his grip on him. She gave up reluctantly, feigning some kind of trust in him, and followed him across the room to the mayor.
"So glad you could make it," Goodwin said, as he extended a hand to Jane and shook with him heartily. "And this is…?" he asked, his gaze turning to Lisbon.
"Teresa Lisbon," he started. "She's my…" he pointedly paused "… my colleague at the Austin HQ. Special Agent. She does the detecting, I do the insulting," he continued jovially.
"Consulting," Lisbon interjected correcting him to his amusement as she rolled her eyes. Although he wasn't completely wrong.
"Yes, that too," he concurred.
"Welcome, welcome both of you," said Goodwin, shaking Lisbon's hand as well. "I'm so glad you were able to make it to support such a cause so close to my heart."
Jane grinned at Lisbon as they peeled away from the cheery mayor, handing her a flyer from his pocket that explained it all. A casino night fundraiser for ex-felon rehabilitation, an initiative from the mayor's office. An obvious way to lean into his son's previous misdemeanors with an election on the horizon and what better way to do it?
Lisbon stared at him unimpressed of his earlier absence of details allowing her to believe she was in a precarious illegal situation.
"I know you enjoy a flutter Lisbon," he shrugged, waiting for her usual cycle of Jane annoyance to turn to acceptance. He knew she loved a good poker game, even if her last usual game was littered with Blake Association members. "Been a while since you've had a good gamble."
"It's not gambling if you know you're going to win," she retaliated as she made her way to the Texas Hold 'Em buy-in counter.
"I'm gonna smoke you Lisbon," he chortled as he chased after her.
$200 buy-in, winner takes $2,000, no limit Texas was the game. They flirted, they laughed, and joked, and enjoyed a good-spirited wholesome game with some of the movers and shakers of Austin. As the tables reshuffled, he valued being able to ogle her from a different perspective. Her attempt a poker face, her cute little tells, the way her lips curled up as she laughed heartily along with her company. He couldn't help but stare.
From his lack of focus, before he knew it, he was out of the game. But he didn't mind. He much preferred to watch Lisbon enjoy herself than the thrill of the game himself. He got himself a drink whilst trying to avoid the mayor's lackeys leaning on him for donations.
It wasn't overly long until she was out too, fuming over a bad-beat tale, her aces cracked by a gutshot straight on the river. The angry little princess emerged again.
"What a donkey! An ass, plain and simple! Who calls a pre-flop raise with that garbage?!" she blustered with frustration.
"All for a good cause, my dear," he gently reminded as he guided her to the exit with a gentle hand on her shoulder.
"You're right, you're right," she grumbled, as they emerged back out the rabbit hole. "I just hate playing against amateurs." She gritted her teeth and feigned a strangling motion with her hands.
He took her hand, interlacing his fingers into hers as they wandered down the street toward the car.
"It's been a wonderful night, Jane. Thank you. Really. I haven't had this much fun in a long time." She tiptoed and gave him a kiss on the cheek without dropping his hand.
"One more stop before we call it a night," he whispered cheekily into her ear as he loaned her a hand to grab as she climbed into the car.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
He stopped the car in a desolate part of the countryside.
"Now, will you stop asking me where we are and just trust me this time"
She closed her open mouth as he took the words right out of them and gave him a satisfying smirk.
He pulled a couple of paper bags from the back and led her down a dirt path. The night was completely dark, the only thing illuminating their way was the unusually bright moon that night, until Jane pulled a torch from one of the bags.
"Are you taking me out here to kill me?" she asked. "Dump my body in the wilderness?"
"Like I could get the upper hand on you for even half a second if I tried."
"And still wouldn't be the worst date I've been on," she shrugged morosely. "What's in the bags?"
"Always so full of questions," he said exasperatedly, as they approached a fence. Jane crouched to one knee and outstretched his hand
"It says private property, no trespassing," she pointed at a rusted metal sign bearing prominence on the gate.
"Merely a suggestion. Besides, the owner's a friend from another life."
She gave him one last wary glance before hoisting herself over the fence, Jane following suit. They continued down the path as it steeply inclined, passing the tall oaks and pines until they eventually came to a grassy knoll.
Jane pulled a picnic rug from the first bag, flayed it down with a wave, and invited her to sit with him, to which she obliged as he fiddled with a lantern. Next was a wine glass that he handed to her, followed by a bottle of red wine. He filled her glass with a relaxed enthusiasm, before filling his own.
"Are you trying to get me drunk Jane? Because you really don't need to, I'm going to sleep with you later regardless."
He snorted in surprise at her statement. "Well, as good as that is to know, no. That is not my intention."
They smiled at each other through the dim flicker of the lantern and clinked their wine glasses.
"Mmm!" she said in surprised approval. "That's a really good wine. I didn't think you to be such a wine aficionado."
"Well I don't do the swirly sniffy thing, or read into the undertones or tannins or whatever those wine snobs like to talk about," Jane dismissed with a grin. "But I do know what I like to drink. I'm glad to hear you like it too."
She took another hefty gulp, appreciating the vintage.
"Saint Nicolas de Bourgueil, Loire Valley. Lovely French wine. If it's one thing the French know how to do, it's wine. Oh and bread. Pastries, baguettes, croissants. They do carbs oh so well too."
"I've always wanted to go to Paris," she said airily.
"Paris, hey? The City of Love. Never pegged you for a dreamer. A real romantic at heart, hey?"
She shrugged. "What can I say? It intrigues me. It seems like a lovely place to explore. Naivete and childish lovelust, perhaps. I've just always wanted to go. For as long as I can remember."
"Then Teresa," he started, locking eyes with her pointedly with a stare that warmed her soul. "I promise that one day, I will take you there myself."
They clinked glasses once more and gazed up into the starry night sky.
The night was still and comfortably warm. The country air was clean and comforting as a gentle breeze wisped by. The sky, a blanket of diamonds as far as the eye can see.
"The stars always look brighter the further out you go from the city," she observed.
"When there's less hustle and bustle, less noise, things can shine brighter. And you might actually stop and pay attention, take the time to admire their beauty."
He exhaled and looked over at her beautiful face. His life, now less hustle, now less bustle. His thirst for vengeance, his all-encapsulating desire for revenge fuelled by sheer overwhelming grief, the chase for Red John clouded everything in his life. He had finally emerged from it all, and finally, it was all so clear - Lisbon shone so brightly. Now he could stop, and he actually paid attention, he could her appreciate her beauty both inside and out.
They finished their glasses of wine and lay atop the picnic blanket staring up at the sky in its infinite possibilities. Her head upon the front of his shoulder curled up poignantly into his side, his arm that wasn't comfortably resting on her hip bent to form a pillow for his own head.
"This is nice," she murmured in her contentment.
A single kiss atop her forehead, his loving response.
"Look," he pointed up at the night sky, "you can make out Orion," he said, tracing with his finger.
"What's Orion?"
"Orion the Hunter. The constellation," he explained. "See, those three stars there make the belt, and you can see his sword up that side, and the shield on the other."
"You're just making this up now."
"I'm not! Look, start at those three bright stars all in a row"
"All looks like a bunch of shiny dots to me."
He tsked her extra audibly and tickled her side aggressively. She cackled and swatted him away until he relented, catching her breath as she snugged into his side once more.
"I've never been, uh, like this before with anyone," she said nervously, absent-mindedly tugging at the edges of his shirt.
"What, lying in a field under the stars? I do recommend it from time to time, it's quite therapeutic. It really makes you realise how small we are in the grand scheme of things."
"No, not like that. Like this, like, uh…"
"Yeah, I know what you mean," he interrupted, saving her from her inarticulation.
"You do?"
"Of course. My iron-clad steadfast Lisbon, guarded on all accounts. You've never been so willingly open and honest and close to anyone like this. And I'm grateful."
She squeezed his ribs in appreciation. "See," he jived, "my mind-reading malarky isn't annoying exclusively all the time."
"The stars are indeed beautiful though"
"I have a surprise. Give me a moment."
She held up her head to allow him free as she looked at him quizzically. He scrambled over to the second paper bag he had brought with him, pulling out a few cylindrical objects that she quickly recognised as she'd remembered a Fourth of July gone wrong in the backyard with her brothers as a teen.
"Fireworks, Jane, really?"
Jane flashed her a boyish grin, one normally reserved for his most juvenile of plans.
"Why am I finding myself questioning whether or not something you're doing is legal yet again tonight?"
"Because you're a detective, Lisbon. It's in your very nature to suspect everything," he said meticulously setting up his assorted array. "And let me reassure you, that these are 100% legal…"
"Good!"
"… in Mexico"
"Jane!"
"Oh Lisbon, live a little. Don't be such a goody two-shoes. It's just a couple of small ones, we're the only ones here. Trust me."
"Trust you," she muttered, "famous last words."
"Just wait and see. It'll be worth it."
He fished a lighter from his pocket and lit the fuse, before scurrying back to Lisbon and the picnic blanket, taking a seat next to her.
With a boisterous bang and a whir, lights of green and blue danced across the night sky in bursts, glimmering in a far more ostentatious way than the stars that became their back drop. Flecks of light exploding from apparent nowhere in a dazzling display. He watched her stare up at the sky with a look of wonderment and appreciation, the shimmering lights reflected in her pupils. He draped an arm around her shoulders, proud of his handiwork.
Echoing in the distance, disgruntled yaps and barks from a number of dogs. As he focused his attention on the noise, he could make out an angry voice and footsteps off in the distance.
"Oh dear," Jane uttered ominously.
"What's the matter?"
The footsteps seemed to grow be growing closer.
"We should probably get out of here. Someone's coming."
"I thought you said the owner was a friend?"
"Yes, from another life. Just not this life," Jane explained. "Perhaps the next?"
"Jane!" she hissed.
"Quick, this way," Jane grabbed her hand to pull her up and led her towards a tuft of trees, only going a few steps before doubling back to grab the bottle of wine before they ran across the way.
They'd barely ducked out of view when the man that accompanied the angry voice stumbled across their picnic soiree, armed with a shotgun. They hid behind a large oak tree, their chests heaving from the run and the adrenalin, his body pressed firmly against hers as they didn't dare make a move that might betray their position.
Her emerald eyes shining in the moonlight laced with both fear and excitement. They way her chest heaved against his as she quietly caught her breath made him stir. Without a second thought, his lips were against hers, tasting the wine in a new light, tongues intertwining. She moaned into his mouth, a noise he quickly admonished with a fleeting shhh before kissing her more intensely.
"Damn teenagers," the man exclaimed, before firing a rogue shot into the air, the blast startling the pair. Oh how Lisbon wished she'd had her gun and badge, although unsure what she'd actually do with it considering they were the ones trespassing with potentially illegal fireworks.
They waited patiently as the footsteps dissipated into the distance.
"You think he's gone?" she whispered.
Jane poked his head around the tree. The night seemed as still as before.
"I think we're good," he whispered in return.
With a pop and gurgle, and much to Lisbon's dismay, the sprinkler system across the green sprung to life.
Jane laughed with juvenile amusement.
"We're going to get soaked," Lisbon squeaked in despair.
"Not if we're smart," Jane corrected, watching the sprinklers rotate back and forth, following their distinct path and patterns.
"Come on," he instructed once more, pulling her by the hand and running into the field before she even had a sniff of an opening to object.
They ran, jumped, skidded, and galivanted across the way, avoiding the incoming assault of the spurting water with varying levels of success. They snorted and laughed together, Lisbon using Jane as a human shield in one instance, before desperately dashing away before he could even consider revenge. Mildly damp in places, they made it through the field and back to the road.
"We could've been thrown in jail if we were caught!" she exclaimed.
"Well lucky for you, I know some people within the Federal Bureau of Investigation that would be able to help us out."
"You're an idiot," she chastised as they clamoured back into the car.
"Yes, but now I'm your idiot."
She smiled. She could definitely live with that concept.
He sounded the horn with an almighty 'arugah', the stillness of the night accentuating its volume, causing Lisbon to hiss and sink further down her seat, and Jane to chuckle in glee.
Fear, exhilaration, adoration, annoyance, arousal. The concoction of emotion was intoxicatingly high-inducing. She had never felt so alive.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Back on the familiarity of her street, he walked her to the door like a gentleman.
"I at least get to kiss you goodnight now, don't I?" he mused as she twisted the key in the lock.
She barely let him get the sentence out, forcefully pulling him in by the scruff of the shirt and almost threw him across her entryway, kicking the door shut behind her. She ran her fingers through his hair and pulled him into her yearning mouth, her supreme eagerness sending his ego through the roof.
He trailed his kisses to his ear, exhaling and sending chills through her body. His kisses littered down the side of her neck as his teeth grazed her clavicle, licking and nipping around her pulse point. She cradled his head as he buried himself in her neck, holding on for dear life as her knees began to jelly as her body sprang to life. She intuitively pushed his jacket off his shoulders. He stiffened his arms to allow it to drop to the floor, unrelenting in his kisses. She slid her hand between them and to the front of his strained pants, his breath hitching against her neck as she grabbed his hardness through the fabric. She smiled into his kiss and led him impatiently to the bedroom.
Clothes were shed as hands wandered needily, exploring each other and damning any obstacle that came in their way. He swept her onto the bed, replacing his wandering hands with his curious mouth, exploring every inch of delicate flesh he could. She gasped as he lulled a tender breast into his mouth and nipped its peak, she shivered as he pressed kisses along her ribcage, she squirmed as he drew kisses from her knee and up her inner thigh, until she felt that cheeky mouth where she needed it most and left out an almighty cry.
Their coupling was fast and intense, like the drawn-out build-up of the evening could rival the decade-long yearning they'd persevered through. He was ever-so attentive to her needs, as if he derived his own pleasure from delivering hers, gazing into her eyes with every calculated thrust. Her breath hitched and ragged, her hands upon his nape and heels against his back. The crests and waves building within her deliciously with his rhythm, his gaze hypnotic as she watched him head closer to his own undoing, his quickening thrusts becoming more fervent. He cried her name in a croaky rasp, spilling deep inside her as they convulsed in climax together, jerking and stilling as they rode out their euphoria.
"Geez," he managed to squawk as they collapsed in a heap, spent and sated. With a quick clean-up, she curled into his side once more, like she had done on the picnic rug earlier, but not bothering to replace any of her forgone clothes. Her curled his arm around her form and hugged her, her lips gracing his with a final loving kiss goodnight before she quickly succumb to a satiated slumber.
He held her close. His heart was full. Every moment of the night filed carefully away in the memory palace. Every loving smile, every infatuated glace, every salacious touch.
It was odd. A strange feeling he wasn't familiar with. But it felt right.
It didn't take him overly long to figure it out. For the first time in a long time, he was happy.