AN: Thanks to everyone who left reviews on the last chapter! I'm going to be honest, I don't have the energy to reply to reviews at the moment, so I figured I would say thank you to everyone in the author's note instead! I love hearing from you and appreciate you taking the time to comment! :)


They awoke together, Lisbon in Jane's arms, the situation not as comical or embarrassing as the first few times it had happened. At first, Lisbon was afraid that being outwardly affectionate with him would expose her true feelings, but in her heart, she knew that they were past that point already. It had gone beyond just not telling each other, they were both dancing around the unspoken connection there.

Lisbon wasn't sure if Jane was ready for another relationship or ever would be, and even if he did, why would he want her? Besides, they were best friends and she didn't want to upset anything. It's not as if there was a 'Dear Abby' for being hopelessly in love with your best friend. By that point, her feelings had gone beyond just a tiny crush and had blossomed into full-on love. At first, she pushed the nagging feeling at the back of her mind away, blaming the thought on sleep-deprivation or tiredness. But before long, Lisbon realized that it was more than just a fleeting emotion. She desperately wanted him to be happy, he had gone through more than anyone should have to. If that meant keeping her feelings locked tightly up and pining after him her whole life, so be it.

Jane suspected Lisbon's intentions towards him, and her slowly crumbling emotional walls, but he didn't want to break her fortress. He was unsure of whether or not she was actively searching for a romantic partner, and he knew about her trust issues. They had known each other for years and each trusted the other with their lives, but trusting someone not to break your heart is different than trusting someone to have your back. He knew from experience that it was like giving away a part of you and trusting the other person to take care of you through everything. It wasn't something you could choose to care for some days and not others. Because of the nature of their platonic relationship, he wasn't sure if she would trust him enough for that. But he was also sure that if Lisbon didn't return his feelings, he would doom himself to a life of watching her go out and date and marry, wishing he was the one to sweep her off her feet.

But at the moment, they weren't "Agent Lisbon" and "Patrick Jane", they were just themselves. Vulnerable, emotional, and walking on eggshells. But, it was comfortable there, tucked tightly together, generating a cocoon of warmth that neither wanted to leave. So, they didn't.

"Morning," Jane whispered. Her only response was a groan. "Did you sleep well?"

"Mmmm. Yeah."

"I'm glad."

"Don't get up, okay? It's warm," she murmured.

Jane took the opportunity to pull Lisbon closer to him, her head resting on the crook of his shoulder. "I like laying like this. We fit together like puzzle pieces."

Lisbon wrapped an arm around him. "What do you mean?"

"This," he said, putting a hand to her head. "You're exactly the right size to curl into me. If I lay on my back and you lay on your side, my arm fits perfectly around your waist and your head fits perfectly on my shoulder."

"Like puzzle pieces," Lisbon echoed. "And you don't mind?"

"Not at all. I like laying with you. You're soft and comforting, not to mention it's cute when you talk in your sleep."

"What?" she asked, stunned. "I talk in my sleep?"

"You do," he confirmed. "I'm surprised no one's ever told you."

"I'm almost afraid to ask, but what do I say? I hope it's nothing embarrassing."

Jane laughed, a deep belly laugh that reverberated through the room. Lisbon always liked his laugh, it was so rare to hear him laugh out loud instead of just a quiet chuckle. It had taken her by complete surprise the first time she heard it, after months of grieving in silence. It was almost musical, a stark contrast to the gentle bass of his speaking voice.

"You mostly just ask for things. Nothing weird, mind you," Jane said, noticing the flush of embarrassment threatening to creep over her cheeks. "It's a lot of 'will you hand me that?' and 'I swear if you don't move' and 'help me move this last thing and then you can be done'. I'm not even sure if you're ever talking directly to me, but I still think it's cute."

"Oh god," she groaned. "That is embarrassing. Not the worst things I could be saying in my sleep, but still embarrassing."

"Two nights ago you asked me to get you some ice cream."

"You're joking."

Jane shook his head. "I'm not joking. I honestly had half a mind to do it, even asleep you have all the bravado of a commanding officer."

"And what about you?" Lisbon asked. "Are you sure you don't talk in your sleep?"

"If I do, no one's ever told me. But you, my dear, are a sleep talker."

They fell again into a companionable silence, the only sound the rising and falling of their chests. Lisbon closed her eyes again, thinking she could just fall right back asleep again tucked in his warm embrace.

"You know," Jane said. "When I was younger, I sleepwalked. That's not too different from what you do. It only happened a few times though, that's just something that goes away on its own."

"You sleepwalked?"

"Not often, but yes. One time I woke up in someone else's trailer. I guess they had forgotten to lock it, and I just walked in. I think I remember dreaming that I was looking for somebody, but I'm not sure who. Nevertheless, it's safe to say I gave them quite a scare," Jane said. "It's more than a little unnerving to wake up to a child that isn't yours standing in your kitchen."

She chuckled. "I like hearing your carnie stories."

"There's not much to tell if I'm completely honest, but there are some notable exceptions. Did I ever tell you about when the snakes got let loose in the wrong booth?"

"No!"

And so they spent the rest of their morning cuddled together, regaling each other with the good stories of their childhood. It always felt good to remember the nice things about being young, instead of focusing on the hardships of the past. They both hadn't had much of a childhood, so at least they understood to ignore the bad. Lisbon was full of stories about how her brothers were holy terrors growing up, and Jane was able to talk a lot about what it was like to be a carnie kid. It was obvious that that was part of the reason why Jane was who he was, wild and free and without a care for authority figures. Eventually, Lisbon decided she was hungry and they rolled out of bed and meandered to the kitchen.

"Do you think that car's still there?" she asked, pouring a cup of coffee.

Jane went in to open the blinds. "It's gone. Shame we couldn't get the plate number."

"Hmmm." She put cream cheese on bagels for both of them. "Should I call Rigsby and tell him not to stop by?"

"Why? Will it actually benefit us if he doesn't? We've already got a cover story, as far as anyone knows Rigsby is my brother who's just stopping by while on a business trip in Sacramento. We can play it off if anyone's watching."

"Maybe you're right," Lisbon said slowly. "Besides, it only looks weirder if we stay in the house for two days. I'll tell Rigsby the plan is still on as usual, and we just need to make a bigger show of him coming over in case anyone's watching. Just because there's not a car there doesn't mean they haven't set up a camera somewhere."

After they ate, Lisbon texted Rigsby and emailed the rest of the team to keep them updated. Unsurprisingly, they went along with the plan and asked for updates if there were any. Lisbon desperately wanted to call and have someone set up a tail on the car from the night before, but it would draw too much unwanted attention to them. Instead, she busied herself by digging through some cold case files. It was something that the team worked on when days were slow or they had no active cases. Usually, they didn't find anything new, but the methodic mental stimulation of running scenarios in her head often calmed Lisbon down.

"You seem antsy," Jane commented upon seeing what she was doing.

"As I said, I don't particularly like the idea of someone sitting and watching me."

"No one's watching you."

"Maybe not right now, but they could be at any time!" Lisbon insisted. "This is starting to get a little out of hand, Jane. What would happen if they decided we were suspicious and raided us like they did the last victims? There's no way we could defend ourselves."

"Relax, Lisbon, you're getting paranoid. Focus on your cases for now, you can bounce ideas off of me until Rigsby gets here. We'll talk it out then, I promise."

So Lisbon picked a random file and ran Jane through the forensic evidence and suspect pool. It looked like a straightforward case, one that if they were assigned to it would have been opened and shut in no time at all.

"You checked the husband?" Jane asked after reviewing the evidence multiple times.

"Yes," she groaned. "We checked. He was at a movie, we've got ticket stubs and receipts to prove it."

"Nine times out of ten, the husband is the killer."

"Jane, I know that. But it's a solid alibi!"

"Any alibi seems solid until you find the right thing to break it," Jane said. "What did you say the husband did for a living?"

"He's an anthropology professor at a local community college," Lisbon read from the file.

"And did SFPD talk to the students?"

"Yeah, let me get the interviews." She searched the archives for the right video and turned up the volume on her laptop. "This is one of his students."

In the video, the girl looked very uneasy, not necessarily a sign of guilt, but maybe that she had a gut feeling about the man. She told the interviewer all about what they had been learning in class, how they were focusing on learning about pagan religions in early Caribbean culture. It all seemed so straightforward, but one detail caught Jane's attention.

"She said they went to go see a movie as a class?"

"Umm, yeah, they did," Lisbon said, getting the transcript. "A week before the murder. Some documentary about paganism, I think."

"And what's the name of the movie that he said he went to see on the night of the murder?"

Lisbon quickly searched it, and sure enough, the names of the movies matched. "So he already knew the plot," she said.

"So he went in, bought tickets, left, killed his wife, came back in time to see credits roll on the screen, and was able to tell investigators what the movie was about. Clever," Jane finished. "I always wonder if these people think they're going to get away with it."

"I believe they think they're smarter than us," Lisbon mused. "I wonder if they know we've been doing this stuff our whole life. And plus, we've got a human lie detector on our side."

"Jeez, woman, aren't I more to you than that?"

"I suppose," she said playfully. "What more do you want to be? You're already the reigning champion of the 'Pain In The Ass Award' for several years running."

"Aw, Lisbon," he said, putting a hand over his heart. "How touching. But admit it. You want me on your team."

"Sometimes I do, sometimes I don't."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You close cases," Lisbon said simply. "That's the main reason you haven't gotten fired yet. But, I know that if anyone tried to remove you from my team, I'd fight to get you back."

In all honesty, Lisbon knew that she would do more than just fight. She may be the leader of the team, but she would go anywhere Patrick Jane went. It was as simple as that. Her life before she met him was a blank canvas covered in white paint compared to how it was now. As much as she complained about it, he kept her on her toes and she liked it. What she didn't like was being responsible for the massive amounts of paperwork that followed in his wake as well, but she was willing to put up with it. He could lead her right off a cliff and she wouldn't notice until it was too late.

That being said, there had to be a line somewhere. Lisbon's boundaries and Jane's boundaries were very different. He tended to toe the line, never clearly to one side or the other, always one to respect her but not one to stay in the box she tried to keep him in. Lisbon, on the other hand, was bound by a strict moral code that kept her fully in the comfort zone at all times, not wanting to overstep or offend a friend. It was an interesting and unlikely friendship, the two of them, complete opposites but balancing each other out in the scale of life.

"Well, that's very nice of you. I'd fight for you too. Remember when Minelli put you on leave that one time? When you had to fake the breakdown?"

"Yes, I remember."

"I argued with him about that for a long time before realizing it could work in our favor. So there's always that."

"That's true. There have been a few times where I've wanted to kick you off the team then and there, but I didn't. We'd lose too much credit without you," she said, a cruel attempt at indifference.

"Come on, Lisbon."

"What?"

"You know it's more than that. Sure, you like the credit and you like the reputation of the unit with the most closures. Anyone would want that. But you like having me on your team because I keep things exciting."

"Sometimes too exciting," Lisbon mumbled.

"Admit it."

"What do you want me to say?"

Jane pretended to think about it. "I want you to say that you like having me around."

"Fine. Jane, I like having you around."

"See? Doesn't it feel nice to tell the truth, Lisbon?"

"Whatever."

They were prevented from taking the teasing any further by the chime of the doorbell. Lisbon, already anxious about being watched, nearly jumped out of her skin while Jane calmly stood up and made his way to the door. Choosing to stay on the couch, Lisbon quickly sent their findings on the cold case to SFPD, in an attempt to calm her racing pulse.

Jane made his way back to the living room, practically dragging an embarrassed looking Rigsby behind him. "Look who I found!"

"Hey, Rigsby. How are things?" Lisbon asked. "Everything still going okay in Sacramento?"

"Oh, uh, yeah. Things are going well. We broke the case that Van Pelt told you about, so that's another one solved. Don't worry about the paperwork though, we already took care of it," he said.

Jane sat next to Lisbon, putting a hand on her knee and quickly remembering that they had company. "Teresa, that car is back. I just figured I'd let you know."

Rigsby cleared his throat uncomfortably, not used to his boss and Jane acting so...couply.

"Great," Lisbon said, sarcasm dripping from her voice. "So not only do I have to go out tonight and pretend like I didn't just win a ton of illegal money from a gang, but I also have to worry about being watched in what should be the safety of my fake house."

"Van Pelt didn't get anything back on the plate," Rigsby said apologetically. "But if it makes you feel better, we can put the house under surveillance."

"No, you can't," Jane said. "If they suspect anything, the jig is up. And we'll probably only need this last night to get the connections before we can make the bust."

"As much as I hate to say it, Jane's right. We're really close to finding out about the last few people on the list, we just need confirmation of who they are and then Organized Crime can go in and do their thing," Lisbon explained.

"We've kept Walker and Sanchez in the loop. They know about the list of people in the inner circle, and we've gotten some information on some of them. I brought it with me if you'd like to read it to prepare for tonight." Rigsby shuffled some papers around in his briefcase, before pulling a case file out and handing it to Lisbon. "We only have definites on Miss Everett and Mr. Spencer. You already know everything we do about James Garrett, and there's not enough to go on to get information on Blackwell or Lloyd, so anything you can find out about them is great."

"Thanks." Lisbon set the folder on her closed laptop.

"What's the plan for tonight?" Jane asked.

"I talked to the team about it before I left, and they think it's a good idea to keep it the same as the other times. Walker was still adamant about you wearing wires, but we talked him out of it."

"Thank god," Lisbon interrupted. "What is it with that man and microphones?"

"Uh, anyways," Rigsby continued. "The only thing changed is going to be that you have to try and talk to the two that we don't have information on. Do one of your tricks Jane, whatever it takes."

"Sounds good to me."

When Rigsby got ready to leave, the black car was still parked across the street. For their benefit, Lisbon put on a huge show of hugging Rigsby goodbye at the door, both of them staying on the porch long enough to wave at him as he drove off. Because the windows of the strange car were tinted, they couldn't quite make out the person inside. Eventually, Jane kissed Lisbon, again to lend credibility to the con, and led her back to the living room.

"So," he said, laying with her thigh as a pillow, "What do we have on these people?"

Lisbon grabbed one of the files and read aloud. "Elizabeth Everett, 42, supposed head of the Scarlet Vipers. She has connections to the international drug trade as well as money. She's from one of the major crime families, probably inherited it from her father."

"Hmm," Jane said. "Only one of them could have killed the Shades, right?"

"Right. The wound pattern was from one person. But any one of these people could have had someone do it for them. It's not unusual for heads of gangs to get other people to do their dirty work."

"But this time it was personal. Why leave the rings? They would help identify the bodies. Whatever they did, it was of great personal offense to someone."

"We've also got a file on Alan Spencer. He's 54 and tied to some arms dealer down in Mexico, importing illegal assault rifles into the country without notifying border patrol."

Jane whistled. "Wow. But the Shades weren't killed with an illegal weapon, were they?"

"No. But that doesn't mean he couldn't have gotten his hands on a registered gun," Lisbon pointed out. "Regardless, we don't have time for theorizing right now. We've got to get ready to go, it's a long drive ahead of us."

They found themselves in the upstairs bathroom again, Lisbon looking through her bag for something to tie her hair up with. Jane watched her with growing curiosity, wanting to ask a question but not wanting to disturb her. Finally, she found some bobby pins and hair ties and began to brush her hair.

"Lisbon, wait," Jane said, stopping her. "Can I brush your hair?"

"What?" she asked skeptically. "You want to brush it?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because it looks soft, I have nothing to do, and I'm good at this sort of thing."

Lisbon realized with a pang that he probably learned to do that for his daughter, but she didn't want to ask for fear of upsetting him. So instead, she conceded, handing him the brush and sitting on the floor so that he could reach her from where he was sitting on the edge of the tub.

At first, he didn't want to ask if he could brush it for her, she was so fiercely independent that Jane assumed she wouldn't want him doing it for her. It had surprised him when she said yes, and he eagerly took the brush from her, starting with the ends of her hair as he had watched her do earlier. The brush ran nicely from her scalp down the length of the chocolate brown waves, not catching on anything but gliding through an ocean of tawny locks. It had been a long time since Lisbon had anyone brush her hair, and she had forgotten how nice it felt to be so cared for. She closed her eyes, concentrating on his fingers moving through her hair, gently traveling over the curve of her neck.

"Let me know if I'm pulling too hard," Jane said softly.

"No, it's okay. That's just something that comes with having long hair."

After what seemed like hours, Jane gave her back the brush, having deemed her hair completely brushed out. She didn't understand why it felt as good as it did, seeing as how there was absolutely nothing romantic or erotic about brushing hair, but she felt happy and blushy all over.

"What are you going to do with it?" he asked, watching her twirl it up at the back of her head.

"Put it in a bun. It won't take long, we need to get going."

Jane excused himself to go get ready, running his fingers through his hair to maximize his own unruly curls. Lisbon slipped into a dress, convincing herself that the perfume she daubed on her pulse points were for her benefit instead of Jane's. She found herself wearing the emeralds again, resting at the base of her throat in front of her cross necklace, a detail that did not go unnoticed by Jane.

The car ride was mostly spent in silence, neither of them wanting to acknowledge the change in that atmosphere between them since the afternoon.

Lisbon so badly wanted to tell him what she felt, but the words caught in her throat, instead choosing to roll around in the breaker waves of her mind. It wasn't that she was scared to say it, but rather that she was afraid of how he would react. Would he push her away? Leave in the middle of the night to god knows where and never come back? All her life people had abandoned her, and Lisbon wasn't sure if she could bear it if Jane left too.

Throughout the week, Jane realized that he never wanted to leave this safe circle between the two of them, never wanted to sleep again in a place where he couldn't hold her close. It should have been so simple to say, whether in three words or a million. So badly he wanted to make this fake life real, sealing his promise and vow with wedding rings of their own. He had to admit, 'Teresa Lisbon Jane' had a nice ring to it.

They had to park in a hidden lot again, and Lisbon took a couple of deep breaths.

"You okay?" Jane asked.

"Yeah. I'm good. Nervous, but good."

"Don't be." All reservations aside, he leaned across the center console and kissed her, breathing in her spicy cinnamon scent and tasting strawberries on her lips. Her mouth was the sweetest honey, kissing him back passionately as her arms wound around his neck. When they pulled apart, each was breathless, pulses racing and nerves slightly alleviated.

"Thanks," she breathed. "You ready?"

He led her to the entrance, again flashing the ID card with the false address, and they were ushered in by the bouncer. Lights gleamed across the reflective ceiling of the hangar, footsteps and voices echoing as guests mingled around. A single glance told them they were early, no sign of any of their persons of interest.

"Do you want to get a drink?" Lisbon whispered in Jane's ear. "I could use one."

She ended up ordering a scotch, one of the nice ones, while Jane sipped from a cocktail chosen at random. Lisbon was still slightly rattled from the unexpected kiss in the car, and she suspected that Jane knew exactly what she was feeling.

"Have you seen anyone?" Lisbon asked as they sat down at one of the high tables.

"No, not yet. It's odd, because it's almost time for the fight to start, and yet none of our suspects, ahem, gracious hosts are here yet."

"What are they waiting for? Last time, they were all here," Lisbon hissed.

Suddenly, James Garrett appeared behind Jane. "Speak of the devil, it's Patrick Jane and Teresa," he called over his shoulder. "Come on, sit with us. We've got front row seats."

"Glad to," Lisbon said lightly, taking Jane's hand. "Sweetheart, let's go."

He allowed her to pull him to the table where the rest of the patrons were waiting. "Gentlemen, and ladies," he said, kissing Everett's hand. Lisbon pouted, then pulled him towards her for a kiss. "My girl gets a bit jealous," Jane explained.

Lloyd sat forward. "You won big last time, Teresa," he intoned in a southern accent. "Lookin' to score again?"

She leaned towards him and jutted out her chin. "Absolutely. Seems you lost out, it's a shame about that. What do you do for a living, Mr. Lloyd? I'd assume a man like you has some money to put down."

"I do. I deal in art mostly."

"Selling it?"

"More like...redistribution. Say, what's all this interest all of a sudden?" He looked suspicious.

"Oh, I just wonder," Lisbon said innocently. "Sometimes I'd like to know what everyone does with their lives outside of thrill-seeking."

"Well, maybe you shouldn't wonder," Lloyd said harshly.

"You don't need to talk to her like that," Jane said loudly. "Apologize."

"Patrick," Lisbon purred. "I'm sure he didn't mean it, did you, sweetie?" She fixed her gaze on Lloyd, flashing him a big, innocent smile. "Just got a little ahead of himself, is all."

Lloyd sat back. "Of course."

"See?" Lisbon said, putting a hand on Jane's chest. "He didn't mean to yell, he's a sweetheart."

"Lloyd's a strong one, I wouldn't put too much up against him," Blackwell said. "Less distinguished than the rest of us."

"Is that right?" Lloyd asked, tension rising from everyone around the table.

"That's right. I ship luxury cars, what do you do? Look at old paintings? Like I said, less distinguished. A bore, really. Who would want to stare for hours at some old canvas when they could be taking girls for rides in fast cars? Not me, that's for sure," Blackwell teased.

"Cars, Mr. Blackwell?" Lisbon asked. "How exciting."

"It sure is. You'd like it, little lady. Zero to sixty in less than three seconds. Not much more of a thrill than racing around in a Ferrari SF90. Much more fun than anything Lloyd here could provide."

"And I do find it so attractive when a man drives a fast car," Lisbon said, with a pointed look at Jane.

He held his hands up in mock surrender. "My love, if it's cars you want, you need only to say the word." She smiled, a teasing gleam in her eye.

Thankfully, they had done a good enough job at easing the palpable tension around the table. Lloyd calmed down, although he was still fuming by the time they brought out the fighters. This time around, Lisbon had placed her bet early, money on the favored winner this time. That way, if he did win, she wouldn't get as much and she wouldn't have lost anything. So badly she wanted to excuse herself to the ladies' room so that she could text what they had learned to the team, but it was just too risky.

Jane squeezed her hand for the duration of the fight, knowing her anxiety of watching these people forced to beat each other unconscious. When the winner was announced, Lisbon was happy to learn that she had only won a small sum this time.

"A winner again, Teresa?" Blackwell came up close behind her while she was collecting her winnings. "I'd be proud to have a girl like you on my arm. You expressed an interest in cars, perhaps I could take you for a ride one of these days."

Lisbon tried hard to not let goosebumps show on her exposed neck and shoulders as she registered his double meaning. "No offense to you, Mr. Blackwell, but I'm not sure my husband would approve. I'm sure you understand."

Blackwell skated a hand up her arm to her shoulder and Lisbon had to fight to restrain herself.

"I'm sure I don't understand," he growled. "Pretty girl like you deserves a better man."

After what felt like hours, but in reality, couldn't have been more than a few seconds, Jane was at her side, slipping an arm around her slender waist and pulling her in for a deep kiss. Blackwell lingered, watching them with interest.

Once they had separated, Blackwell pulled Jane aside and handed him a card. "Patrick, a few of us are getting together tomorrow to meet up for a friendly game of poker, if you're interested. It's a rather steep buy-in, but with that little firecracker of a wife, I'm sure you'll do fine. We'd love to have the two of you if you can make it."

"We'll be there," Jane said with a smile. "And I'd suggest not ever attempting to seduce Teresa again. She does have a temper."

Blackwell walked away, muttering something under his breath about modern age couples and how narrow-minded they were. Jane walked Lisbon to the car, his arm completely around her. She had hardly gotten settled in her seat when Jane demanded to know what Blackwell had said.

"It's nothing, Patrick."

"It's not nothing. I can tell how shaken up you are. Did he threaten you?"

"No! I can take care of myself, thank you very much. He asked to take me for a ride."

Jane huffed. "Jackass. Man doesn't know another man's wife from Eve."

"We're not married," Lisbon reminded him. "It's not as if he was trying to seduce me away from you."

"Lisbon, he was. It's the thought," he tapped his temple seriously. "It's the thought that was in his head. He thinks this is all real, and he also thinks it's suddenly okay to take another man's wife."

"I'm not making excuses for him," Lisbon said. "You got there just in time. I swear I thought I was going to have to attack him."

Jane laughed. "Well, I'm glad you didn't. That would have surely blown our cover."

"Yeah. I'll text Cho and tell him what we learned about the other two patrons. What did Blackwell give you?"

With a flourish, Jane pulled another card out of his suit pocket, identical to the first few but instead with an address. "My dear, we've been invited to poker night!"

"Great," she said, voice dripping with sarcasm. "I can't wait."

When they got home, they were both worn out from the long night. Lisbon grabbed some water and they took turns using the sinks in the bathroom, eventually sinking under the covers together. By this point, they didn't even start apart, Jane slid over to where she was nestled, hugging her tight to his body and burying his face in her hair.