A/n It has been a while since I have updated this collection of one-shots but a tweet from incorrectjisbon gave me some inspiration.

If you have any prompts of your own, then please let me know :)

Tweet:

[ Lisbon: *nudging Jane* why are you always falling asleep on me? Am I that boring?

Jane: *half asleep* you make me feel safe. ]

/

The Feeling Of Home

They closed another case today, one that was pretty dull for Jane's standards, so his brain hasn't had its usual workout whereas Lisbon has been very busy. Mainly with paperwork but that is still busy. As soon as she submitted her report, with him not-so-discreetly watching her from his couch, he leaped up and pulled back her chair, declaring that it was time to go home. Home is usually her condo but tonight they are spending a rare night in his Airstream after her request to eat under the stars led them here. She was driving them away from the FBI offices when she noticed how clear the sky is tonight, so clear that the stars seem so much brighter as they shimmer amongst the darkness. When she suggested that they should order takeout and eat outside he was initially staggered, she does generally prefer the comforts of indoors but as her green eyes sparkled in awe, mirroring the beauty of the night sky, he quickly understood how much the sight moved her. "We should have more picnics." He mutters, lying beside her in his bed. "A very pleasant way to end the day."

It really was and she hums in agreement. It may have become a bit nippy the longer they stayed outside but once they shuffled together, their body heat providing the warmth they needed, it became bearable. More than that, it was wonderfully cosy and perhaps surprisingly romantic. The soft chirps of the crickets in the grass and the light wind became their music, removing any eeriness from their desolate location. They had candle-lit lanterns and fairy lights to make it all feel very magical and the lovely Italian food from the little family run place not far from the site where he parks his Airstream just seemed like a bonus. Although she does think her lasagne was the best that she has ever had. "When I was filling in the forms for the Davis case at five o'clock, I didn't think we would have such a lovely evening."

"Never underestimate my romantic side." He jokingly threatens. "Although saying that I can't really take the credit for this one."

"Don't give me that." She gently flails her right arm out so that it lands on his chest with a faint thump earning a chuckle from her boyfriend who smiles at the sensation of her fingers lingering there, stroking the silkiness of his navy pyjamas, and then finding his hands which are clasped together, resting on his torso. One of her fingers runs along his skin, taking in the feeling of the little hairs on the back of his hand, enjoying that she is now free to touch him as much as she wishes. "You went to get the food and made the setting look beautiful, I just suggested eating outside."

"Having ideas is very important."

"Yes, but so is implementing them."

"Touché." Jane states with a chuckle. "So, what did you want to do this weekend?"

"Hm, I don't mind." Anything. It is simply a nice change in pace to do anything that isn't hiding at her place, binging shows whilst trying to stop herself from reading case files. Back in California, any "time off" she tended to spend alone, usually worrying about her consultant driving himself crazy and feeling powerless in the process. It is amazing how things have changed. "If you wanted to do something different, we could take a trip in this metal bucket."

"I will always want to take a trip with you, but it doesn't have to be in this metal bucket." He makes his aversion of her term for his house known with his sarcastic tone but that just makes her lightly laugh, the vibrations tickling across the thin mattress to his side of the bed. "We could fly somewhere or take a train and then spend the night in a hotel, have a nice dinner. Do anything you want."

"You're sweet but it should be something we both want to do."

She spent the best part of a decade wanting him to be less selfish and to listen to her for a change, but here they are and once again she is the one wanting to be selfless, something that is ingrained in her. It may be a characteristic that he finds very attractive (although he also loves her authoritarian side), but she deserves the weekend, the life, she deserves. "Teresa, I spent two years exploring a mysterious island something that at the time I kidded myself that it was what I wanted." Whenever he talks about those two years, she cannot help but get a little choked up and she takes a deep breath to try stop herself from being overcome with emotion. "I was lying to myself to stop me from realising how isolated I had become. I honestly do not care what we do, as long as we do it together." Jane tenderly explains with so much love in his voice and Lisbon thinks she detects a small tear slip out of the corner of her eye.

"Okay." She beams, her bottom lip subconsciously being dragged between her teeth as she stares up at the ceiling, musing what they could do over the weekend. "We could drive to a beach for the weekend. It feels like a long time since I've seen the sea."

"Sounds good to me." This doesn't surprise her; she knows how much he loves the beach. There must be a reason as to why he used to reside in Malibu and why he chose to spend his seclusion in a sandy heaven. Although heaven may be a strong way to describe an experience which he actually found very difficult.

"I remember Fischer saying something about Boca Chica being very pretty." She recalls, silently missing one of her newest friends who had to relocate unexpectedly. "We could splash out on a hotel, have dinner out somewhere fancy but spend the rest of the time lounging on the sand. Maybe do a bit of paddling too. I am sure I have a bikini somewhere…" There is something quite arousing about the thought of Jane seeing her in a bikini. She would never condone getting overly amorous in a public setting – she is definitely not an expeditionist – but that doesn't mean they can't have some fun and then take that fun to their hotel. "I think it is quite a drive so we should probably go on the Friday after work thinking about it, but we can iron out the details later."

Lisbon glances to her right and fleetingly frowns at the image of her partner with his eyes shut, a vacant expression on his face. She nudges him carefully, hoping to stir him awake because she's loving their carefree chatter too much for it to end already and planning their currently hypothetical trip is getting her excited. The contact has his eyes slowly and somewhat reluctantly fluttering open making her sigh. "Why are you always falling asleep on me? Am I that boring?" She questions, silently pleading that this isn't the reason behind it. They are hardly going to get very far if she bores him into the land of nod.

But his response, his reason for his sleepiness is nothing that will upset or dishearten her but instead have the complete opposite effect. "You make me feel safe." Jane murmurs, obviously half asleep, with his eyes closed once more so he is misses the smile that sweeps across her features at his confession.

Before she may have wanted to keep talking to him but now, she is very happy to let him sleep, and she watches him drift off, very content about his admission. For anyone to say that to her would be a great compliment, it is her job and her main focus to keep others safe. However, there is something so poignant about the impossible, the brilliant, the damaged, the loveable Patrick Jane saying it which means so much more. This is a man who was under the thumb of a serial killer for such a long time, he could have been slain by him at any moment and that didn't appear to bother him because he had his goal, and it didn't matter to him if he got harmed in the process. It mattered to her. She wanted more than anything to keep him safe and for a time she believed that was because she wanted to keep everyone safe, especially her team. Then he left after killing Red John, disappeared off to a Venezuelan island and she understood in his absence that keeping him safe, making sure that he was okay, was more important to her than anything else in the world – and that hasn't changed.

What has changed is he will let her keep him safe. He has no reason to put himself in danger anymore and that is such a relief. They wouldn't be here, snuggled up in bed together, if that weren't the case. His breathing slowing tells her that he has now succumbed to sleep but she doesn't mind, it is a picturesque sight, it always is but especially when he looks so at peace, like he does in this moment. It has become more the norm since his return to the US, he very rarely now has those instances of anguish and when he does, she tries her best to comfort him. He is grateful for that, but she is just so grateful that he came back, them being together in this manner is a bonus compared to that. A brilliant bonus, however.

You make me feel safe. She thinks to herself, remembering all the times she found him asleep in her office. How at first, she was slightly perturbed by the sight, not expecting to see her consultant snoozing in her personal space. It wasn't rare for him to sleep at CBI in fact it was strangely normal, but it was usually in the bullpen on his couch but after he replaced the one in her office, buying her a better one, he started to spend more and more time in there. Is this because he felt safe there? Comforted by her presence?

Maybe one day, if she has the guts, she will ask him. There is a lot she wants to know about that time, about their relationship back at CBI and once upon a time the thought of that conversation would scare her, make her nervous, but now this isn't how she feels. She feels excited, happy, blessed, that she can have that kind of conversation with him.

However, with another look towards him and his restful expression, she knows that now isn't the time for that particular exchange and that's okay. She can wait. Plus, the serene vision of him at her side has her relaxing herself and it almost seems difficult pushing herself up slightly to plant a delicate kiss on the corner of his mouth, being careful not to wake him. "Goodnight, Patrick." She whispers, the content smile still ghosting her lips as she lowers herself down and nestles lovingly into his side.

Home may sometimes mean her condo and sometimes mean his Airstream, but one thing she is certain about is – home is wherever he is.