Xxx
"I cheated on Michaela," Yvonne said, her voice low. They were twenty minutes into the session. Lisbon already felt she was at risk of developing an ulcer from the churning discomfort in her stomach resulting from the awkward, forced familiarity of listening to the intimate emotional details of the lives of strangers.
Michaela tensed but otherwise didn't react.
"And why did you feel the need to go outside the relationship for physical intimacy?" Dr. Geissinger asked calmly. "Do you feel Michaela is incapable of satisfying you sexually?"
Michaela hunched down in her seat with a grimace.
"Of course not," Yvonne snapped. "It had nothing to do with that. Michaela's wonderful in bed." Her face went soft. "She's so sweet and thoughtful and funny."
"Then why did you cheat?" Michaela burst out.
Yvonne colored and glanced away. "I dunno," she mumbled. "I just… it was a stupid mistake. One time. I was talking to her at a party and she was just…different."
"Different?" Michaela repeated. "Different how?"
"I don't know. She smelled different. Her skin was different." Yvonne kept her eyes averted from Michaela's. "We've been together so long. Different felt exciting."
"So you're saying this act of infidelity was due to curiosity? A purely physical desire to break out of your routine?" Dr. Geissinger offered.
Yvonne shifted again. "I guess. Yeah."
Next to Lisbon, Jane made a small disbelieving noise, but for once didn't interrupt.
"Michaela, how do you feel, knowing this?"
Michaela scowled at her shoes. "I feel betrayed. But mostly, I feel…disoriented. Like the ground has suddenly shifted beneath my feet, and I can't get my bearings."
"I'm sorry," Yvonne whispered. "I'm so sorry."
Michaela jerked her head upwards in acknowledgment, but she didn't meet Yvonne's eyes.
Lisbon suppressed a sigh of frustration. She couldn't see how Yvonne cheating on Michaela could have anything to do with Sevechenko's operation. They'd have to keep looking for his contact. She glanced at Jane to see if his take on Yvonne as a suspect had changed as a result of this confession. Hm. He was frowning at Yvonne with an expression she couldn't read, so maybe he'd picked up something that meant the young woman was still a viable suspect after all.
"I believe that acts of infidelity are symptoms of trouble in a relationship, rather than the cause," Dr. Geissinger said. "We'll continue to dig deeper on that throughout our sessions. In the meantime, Tony and Andrea, let's hear from you. You said you're interested in strategies to carve out quality time. Would you like to start there?"
"Sure," said Andrea. "That sounds good."
"I'd like to do an exercise that everyone can participate in. Philip, will you hand out the worksheets, please?"
Philip rose wordlessly and distributed printed paper and pens to everyone in the group.
Lisbon examined hers. It was a calendar like one in a weekly planner, laid out with each of the seven days of the week, with individual lines on each day representing the hours of the day.
"I'd like everyone to write down your schedules with as much detail as possible. If your schedule varies significantly from week to week, just record the details from last week. Don't worry too much about one time events, the focus here is on your daily routines. Everyone take ten minutes and fill out as much detail as possible, then we'll move on to the next phase of the exercise."
Lisbon frowned down at her sheet. How was she supposed to make up a calendar for her fictional alter ego? She was no good at this kind of stuff.
Jane leaned over and whispered in her ear. "Just put down your real routine, minus any details that explicitly reference your profession. I don't think she's going to make us share this with the group."
Lisbon nodded, relieved. That should be easy, then. She dutifully started filling in the details based on the previous week. Mercifully, they hadn't gotten any four am calls to crime scenes, so it was fairly representative of her usual schedule when she was in the office.
When she finished, she read it over:
6:00 AM: Wake up, go running or go to the gym.
7:00 AM: Shower, eat breakfast, drink coffee, drive to work.
8:00 AM: Get to the office, check email until Jane comes to bother me.
9:00 AM: Review case files and catch up on reports.
9:30 AM: Senior leadership meeting. Pray Jane doesn't interrupt with some crazy stunt or another.
10:00 AM: Meet with team, get status updates, assign tasks as needed. Get coffee, listen to Jane ramble on about useless trivia or watch him do a trick in the bullpen if there is no urgent action needed on a case.
10:30 AM – 12:30 PM: Witness interviews, follow up leads, etc. Drive to scenes with Jane, as needed.
12:30 PM: Allow Jane to pester me into going to lunch with him or bring me a sandwich in my office if we're not on the road.
1:00 PM: Force Jane to go back to work and try to do some of my own.
4:00 PM: Let Jane convince me to take a break and get ice cream or drink tea with him.
4:30 PM: Go back to work.
7:00 PM: Grab a bite to eat, usually with Jane if he's not brooding in his attic.
8:00 PM: Shoo Jane out of my office so I can wrap up a few things and go home.
8:30 PM: Say good night to Jane and go home.
8:45 – 11:00 PM: Read a book, watch TV, or catch up on paperwork.
11:00 PM: Go to bed.
"Very good, everyone," Dr. Geissinger said after Philip announced the ten minutes were up. "Now, I'd like you to exchange your schedule with your partner."
What? Lisbon, looked up, annoyed. Why hadn't she said that in the first place? Not that her schedule would be particularly shocking to Jane, since she spent most of each day with him, but she might have written it a bit differently if she'd known he was going to read it. She looked at the hours between 8:30 and 11:00 PM with dissatisfaction. She could have put down meeting friends for drinks or going out on a date or something instead of her usual routine of reading or watching TV until it was time for bed. Her weekends, where the primary modifications were sleeping in, talking to her brothers on the phone, doing chores, and going to church, weren't much better.
She sighed in resignation, knowing it was hopeless. Jane already knew she was a boring workaholic. If she'd tried to pretend she had an exciting, fun-filled social life, he'd have only chided her for making things up. And possibly try to bully her into putting her money where her mouth was and actually get out more.
"Well, let's see it, then, my dear," Jane said, plucking her sheet out of her hands and handing her his in turn.
Lisbon looked down at the schedule Jane had filled in.
7:45 AM: Head to the bullpen and lie on the couch or drink tea until Lisbon comes in.
8:00 AM: Greet Lisbon when she arrives, but don't try to engage her in conversation until she's had a few minutes to settle in. She's not a morning person. Also, she'll be more relaxed and willing to talk once she reads her email and confirms there's nothing urgent that demands her immediate attention.
8:15 AM: Go to Lisbon's office and greet her properly.
8:30 AM: Return to bullpen after Lisbon kicks me out of her office due to her ridiculous work ethic. Spend some time setting up tricks to play on Rigsby later in the day.
9:00 AM: Greet the team when they come in and catch up on gossip while Lisbon is working.
9:45 AM: If needed, pull prank on CBI leadership team to put Bertram and Hightower in their places or if Lisbon is bored and in need of entertainment. Alternatively, nap.
10:00 AM: Listen to Lisbon give out assignments to the team and monitor her caffeine intake. She really shouldn't drink so much coffee.
10:30 AM – 12:15 PM: Solve murders. Drive to scenes with Lisbon and remind her to enjoy the fresh air.
12:15 PM: Fetch lunch.
12:30 PM: Force Lisbon to take a break and eat. She will forget to feed herself otherwise.
1:00 – 4:00 PM: Continue to solve murders if there is an interesting case. If no case or case is boring, take nap, play tricks on Rigsby, and/or go for a walk, depending on weather.
4:00 PM: Persuade Lisbon to take a break and get ice cream or drink tea.
4:30 – 5:00 PM: Nap.
5:00 - 5:30 PM: Enjoy chitchat with team and entertain them until it is time to leave if Lisbon doesn't have their noses to the grindstone working on tedious drudgery.
5:30 – 6:30 PM: Think.
6:30 PM: Fetch dinner.
7:00 PM: Take dinner to Lisbon and catch up on the events of the day.
8:00 PM: Remind Lisbon that she should go home and get a good night's sleep. She never listens and takes this as a reminder to kick me out and continue working. Lie on her couch until she leaves if she lets me, otherwise, lie on couch in bullpen until she decides to go home.
8:30 PM – 2:00 AM: Go to attic and work on RJ files. Alternatively, go to extended stay hotel if Lisbon makes a fuss.
2:00 AM – 5:00 AM: Sleep, if possible.
5:00 AM – 7:45 AM: Work on RJ files or if too depressing go downstairs and drink tea until Lisbon arrives.
"Okay, now I'd like you all to compare schedules with one another and identify how you are currently prioritizing quality time with one another," Dr. Geissinger instructed. "If you don't have at least a couple of hours of quality time together in a week, we'll work on identifying places where you could potentially adjust your schedules to spend more time with one another. Tony and Andrea, since you identified this as a concern in your marriage, let's start with you. Tony, can you summarize your schedule on a typical weekday?"
"Sure," Tony said. "I get up, eat breakfast, go to work. Grab a drink with my buddies, maybe watch the game. Then head home, eat dinner if I didn't get something with the guys. Help the kids with their homework, I guess. Then watch TV til it's time to go to bed."
"And where is Andrea in all this?" Dr. Geissinger said expectantly.
"Well—" Tony looked uncomfortable. "We eat breakfast together, most days."
Andrea shot him an incredulous look. "Me pouring your coffee while I get the kids ready for school does not count as eating breakfast together."
"What about dinner, though? We almost always have dinner together with the kids," Tony protested.
"Almost always? You mean, the two to three times a week you deign to show up to dinner with our four children instead of drinking with your friends?" Andrea snorted. "You consider that quality time? Also, when was the last time you helped any of the kids with their homework, I'd like to know?"
"I helped Sam with his science project not too long ago," Tony said.
"That was over a month ago," Andrea said, aggrieved.
"What about the end of the day, then?" Tony demanded. "We watch TV."
"TV," Andrea said flatly. "That's your idea of quality time? With you on your Lazy Boy while I'm doing the dinner dishes and then collapsed on the couch in a state of exhaustion after running around after the kids all day?"
"Well—what about weekends, then?" Tony said.
"Saturdays we spend the whole day shuttling the kids around to various activities," Andrea said.
"But Sundays—we go to games together during football season," Tony said.
"With the kids," Andrea said. "Or a group of friends."
"What's wrong with that?" Tony said, mystified. "You don't want to hang out with our friends?"
"I'm talking about time for just the two of us. Where we actually talk. Or do something, anything together that doesn't involve our children."
"What about sex?" Tony demanded. "It's not like we never have sex. Isn't that quality time?"
"Sure, Tony," Andrea said. "Those six minutes every week just fill me with a sense of love and appreciation."
"Okay," Dr. Geissinger broke in. "Andrea, why don't you tell us about your schedule. Then we can start looking for common ground."
Andrea listed the activities in her schedule. Lisbon felt exhausted just listening to it. It was clear Andrea took care of all the logistics of running the household. She did the majority of the household chores, ran all the errands like getting groceries, paid the bills. She spent a significant portion of the day driving her children to all their different activities, and also volunteered at their schools in various capacities. She also found time to create and sell vintage style jewelry, a creative talent Lisbon could barely comprehend. She seemed to know something about metalsmithing? "And laundry," Andrea concluded in a tone of despair. "There's always, always laundry."
Dr. Geissinger listened, then asked, "How old is your youngest child?"
"Eight," Andrea answered.
"Do you have someone reliable who could look after the kids for you once in a while? A babysitter, if that wouldn't pose a financial hardship? Or a relative?"
"Our daughter Amy will babysit the younger ones if we agree to pay her an exorbitant rate," Tony said.
"Or our neighbor's daughter. She's a senior in high school," Andrea said. "My mom and sister could help out once in a while, too."
"Good. Next question—how did you two meet?"
"We were part of the same tennis club in our early twenties," Tony answered. He smiled at Andrea in fond remembrance. "You looked so cute in those little tennis skirts."
"Here's what I suggest," Dr. Geissinger said. "First, Andrea, stop doing the laundry."
"Stop doing the laundry?" Andrea said, taken aback.
"Everyone in the house is old enough to do their own laundry," Dr. Geissinger said firmly. She looked at Tony. "That includes you, Tony."
"Okay," Andrea said dubiously. Tony didn't look happy about the idea, but he didn't argue.
"That should give you at least a little more time and energy," Dr. Geissinger said. "And it will give everyone else in the household an appreciation of what it means to share the burden of the household chores. She turned back to Tony. "Tony, you need to decide whether you're going to prioritize quality time with your wife and family over going out with your friends every time they ask. If you're going out with them three or four times a week now, try to cut back to just two nights a week and see how that feels."
"I guess I can do that," Tony said.
"My last suggestion is to try to go out and play tennis together once a week. You could join another club, or just go play together on a local court. If tennis doesn't work, try to come up with another activity you can do together. If you find it difficult to make the time, find a class or something that has a fixed schedule so you can plan around it."
Tony brightened. "That seems doable."
"What about your knee?" Andrea said.
"Well—we can see how it goes," Tony said. "I mean, come on, babe, you're not exactly Serena Williams. I can probably keep up."
Andrea hmphed but looked pleased with the idea. "Okay."
"Wonderful," Dr. Geissinger said, smiling at them. She looked around at the group. "Would anyone else like to talk through your schedules and figure out how to carve out more quality time together?"
Lisbon avoided making eye contact with Jane. Despite not being a couple, quality time did not appear to be a problem for them. She'd never realized before how much they organized their daily routines around one another. The weekends were the only time they spent any significant time apart, and that only when they didn't have a case. Admittedly, neither of them had particularly exciting weekend routines—Jane hadn't even bothered to fill out the weekend portion of his calendar. They could have definitely taken up some shared hobby on the weekends if they'd been a real couple. She tried to imagine Jane playing tennis. She couldn't decide if he'd be infuriatingly naturally talented at it or if he would just constantly complain about the unnecessary exertion she was subjecting him to. But she could imagine going on long walks around her neighborhood with him, or going to get breakfast at his favorite diner, or—
She shook herself out of the thought. Not going there, she told herself sternly. She tried very hard not to think about the kisses they'd shared the night before. None of this is real, she reminded herself. But it was harder to shake herself loose from the memory of Jane's hot kisses than she wanted to admit.
xxx
A few minutes later, Lisbon was listening to Shelly pour out her heart over Isaac's lack of emotional availability and wondering if said lack emotional availability was an indicator of criminal tendencies. Of course, Jane had spent half the morning detailing her own lack of emotional availability, and she wasn't a criminal. She frowned, not liking the comparison even in her own head.
"—and he just works so much, it feels like even when he's off, we can't connect properly," Shelly said tearfully. "I don't know what to do, because it feels like he's becoming a stranger."
"I know just what you mean," Jane jumped in. "Teresa's such a workaholic, sometimes I feel like her paperwork is more important to her than me."
Lisbon studied Isaac, wondering how many international flights he piloted each month. Maybe she could call Van Pelt and see if it would be possible to pull his travel records. It would be tricky. The military generally wasn't inclined to share their records outside the service, but maybe Van Pelt would have an idea—
"Teresa?" Dr. Geissinger said. "Would you like to respond?"
Lisbon started. "Uh-what?"
"Patrick said he feels like he comes second place in your life, after your work."
"He doesn't really believe that," Lisbon said dismissively. "He just likes to tease me about the hours I work."
"And why do you think he likes to tease you about that?"
Lisbon blinked. "He just…likes to tease me. For fun."
"Humor me," Dr. Geissinger said. "If you had to guess why he likes to tease you about that in particular, what would you guess?"
Lisbon considered the question. "Because he worries about me, I think."
Dr. Geissinger frowned, as though that hadn't been the answer she'd been anticipating. "Because he worries about you?"
"I think he's convinced I can't take care of myself properly without him," Lisbon said, unable to suppress a roll of the eyes this time.
"She forgets to eat," Jane informed the group at large. "She'd live off coffee and those horrible stale pastries from vending machines if left to her own devices."
"And is that important to you, Patrick?" asked Dr. Geissinger. "That you be the one to look after Teresa? That she needs you, specifically, to take care of her?"
Jane went very still. "Well," he said after an interminable pause. "It would be very inconvenient if she starved on my watch." He didn't look at Lisbon.
Lisbon watched him, her brow furrowed.
"I sense a reluctance from you to verbalize the true depth of your feelings for Teresa," Dr. Geissinger said. "Has it occurred to you that your fear of exposing the depth of your emotional attachment to her causes a corresponding reticence in her attitude towards you?"
Jane hesitated, but rallied. "No," he said firmly. "Pretty sure our issues stem from Teresa's fear of commitment."
"Hey, I married you, didn't I?" Lisbon said, exasperated by Jane twisting their covers to critique her personality flaws.
"We were engaged two years before I could get you to set a date," Jane argued. "And even then you almost left me at the altar. If I hadn't persuaded you to elope at the last minute, I'd probably still be standing in the chapel by myself, waiting anxiously."
Like Jane would ever willingly set foot in a church. "I'm here now, aren't I?" Lisbon said, pointedly flashing her fake ring in his direction. Jane wasn't the only one who could use false evidence to his advantage. "So I don't see what you're complaining about."
"Well, for one thing, it would be nice if you'd commit to taking that trip to Europe we've been talking about, instead of begging off with work as an excuse to avoid exposing yourself to a prolonged period of emotional intimacy."
Jane was having way too much fun with this. Lisbon folded her arms across her chest. "I'm not going to apologize for being committed to a job that I love that provides a valuable service to society."
"No one's asking you to," Jane said, putting on a convincing show of exasperation. "I just would like it if you would willingly share yourself with me for once, instead of walling yourself off behind the convenient shield of your career."
Lisbon scowled. "Oh, you're one to talk about walling yourself off from the world. Like you're not the one hiding."
Dr. Geissinger looked back and forth between them. "What makes you say that, Teresa?"
Sheep dip. Lisbon tried to think of a way to walk it back, to get them out of this pit of dangerous half-truths. "Patrick isn't really interested in getting closer to my innermost self or whatever you want to call it. He gets bored easily. He just wants someone around to amuse him while he bides his time, waiting for—" Lisbon stopped abruptly. Great, now she'd pitched them straight into the pit herself.
Dr. Geissinger cocked her head to one side. "Waiting for what?"
"Nothing," Lisbon said stiffly. "Never mind."
Jane frowned at her. "Do you really believe that? That I see you as nothing more than a source of entertainment while I pass the time?"
Damn it. She cursed Blackwell and Lopez for carelessly landing themselves in the hospital and sticking her with this wretched assignment. "That was an overstatement," she backtracked. "I mean, I know you care about me—"
"Thank you for granting me that much humanity, at least," Jane said sarcastically.
"But you can hardly complain about not being first in my life when you constantly hide the most important parts of your life from me," Lisbon finished. "Let alone when you literally hide in that dusty old attic."
"How can you say that?" Jane demanded. "You're the only one I tell things to. You're the only one I let into the attic at all."
Lisbon paused, taken aback. She supposed that was true, though she hadn't thought of it in exactly those terms before.
"You know there are certain things I can't tell you about for your own good," Jane persisted.
"No, I know there are things you refuse to tell me about because I might try to stop you from doing things your own way, no matter how stupid and pig-headed your stupid ideas are," Lisbon retorted.
"It's not safe for me to tell you everything," Jane argued. "You know that just as much as I do."
"Dude," Tony said, his eyes wide. "Are you a spy or something?"
Lisbon ignored the interruption. "I've told you a hundred times, I don't need you to protect me."
"And I've told you I'm always going to save you," Jane said. "Whether you like it or not."
"You're always going to do things your own way, whether I like it or not," Lisbon said pointedly. "No matter what kind of trouble it might land you in. No matter whether it's right or wrong. And no matter who gets hurt along the way."
Jane opened his mouth, then closed it. He looked down at his hands. Then he looked up at Lisbon and gave her a sad smile. "I guess it's the always same old fight between you and me, huh?"
"Yeah," Lisbon said, defeated. Great. Now she was not only exhausted from all this lying but depressed by the truth.
"Welcome to marriage," Andrea said dryly.
"Okay," Dr. Geissinger broke in when she could finally get a word in edgewise. "Patrick and Teresa, thank you for sharing. I'd like us to work on a few communication exercises that I think you would find really beneficial—"
"Knock knock," a cheerful voice interrupted.
Startled, Lisbon looked up to see Darla Runyon, the event coordinator, smiling around at the group from the doorway.
"Ms. Runyon," Dr. Geissinger said with a frown. "I'm afraid this isn't the most convenient time—"
"Sorry, sorry, my fault," Darla said, stepping into the garden. "I didn't mean to interrupt. I just wanted to hand out the spa vouchers to our guests before it's time for the couple's massage."
"Yes, if you could just wait until the end of the session," Dr. Geissinger said, disapproving. "Privacy is critical for our group members to feel safe and accepted in these sessions."
"Of course," Darla said, bustling around the circle and handing out small white envelopes to each couple. "I'll make sure no one interrupts."
"Again, you mean," Philip muttered.
"Remember, you're all booked for sessions at 11:45," Darla told the couples. "And don't forget to rest up for the party tonight!"
"Thank you, Ms. Runyon," Philip said firmly, getting up and escorting Darla to the door. He stepped out with her. Lisbon could see the two of them talking. Philip's posture was tense and Darla's defensive. She nudged Jane, wanting him to take a look. If Philip was up to something, maybe he'd pick up on it. Jane obligingly turned his head to watch them, but only gave his head a small shake when Lisbon raised her eyebrows at him expectantly.
Darla dispatched, Dr. Geissinger took control of the session again. "Stephen and Lisa, I'd like to hear some more from you," she said. "Can you tell us a little bit more about what brought you here?"
Silence.
Stephen darted an anxious look at Lisa, but seemed afraid to speak up after the scene earlier that morning.
Lisa pressed her lips together. At first Lisbon thought she had every intention of stonewalling Dr. Geissinger for the whole weekend, but then Lisa let a breath hiss out between her teeth and spoke.
"We lost a child," she said, her voice low. "I had a miscarriage. Six months ago."
"Oh, honey," Shelly said sadly.
Without planning to do so, Lisbon reached out and squeezed Lisa's hand with her own.
Lisa squeezed back, then let go to dash at her eyes. "I've been a mess. I can't eat. Can't sleep. Can't concentrate at work. But Scott's got this mentality of – 'let's just put our best foot forward.' And I… can't. I can't put my best foot forward. I can't put any foot forward. I can barely get out of bed."
"I'm very sorry for your loss," Jane said soberly.
"Lisa, have you and Stephen engaged in any kind of grief counseling since the miscarriage?" Dr. Geissinger asked gently.
"No," Lisa said with a sniffle. Jane wordlessly produced a handkerchief and handed it to her. Lisa blew her nose noisily. "This is the first time we've really talked about it."
"What about your doctor? Has your physician screened you for symptoms of depression?"
"I've been trying to get her to go," Stephen said. "But she keeps brushing me off."
"Why is that, Lisa?" Dr. Geissinger asked.
Lisa made a dismissive gesture. "I'm not depressed, I'm grieving. A doctor can't fix that."
"How do you know?" Dr. Geissinger asked.
"Know what?" Lisa asked, confused.
"If you haven't consulted a physician, how do you know you're not suffering from depression? Grief and depression aren't mutually exclusive."
Lisa stuck out her chin. "I don't want a doctor to give me a bunch of pills to try to make me feel better about having lost a child."
"Babe, won't you at least consider it?" Stephen pleaded. "A doctor could help you get better—"
"Don't be absurd," Jane broke in unexpectedly. He looked directly at Lisa. "You lost a child. You have a hole in your heart. You'll have that hole in your heart forever."
"Come on, man," Stephen said, annoyed.
"Patrick, I'm not sure that's the most productive advice—" Dr. Geissinger said delicately, but Lisa cut her off.
She looked at Jane intently. "Go on."
Jane cleared his throat. "I had a daughter. Before I met Teresa. Her name was Charlotte. She and her mother died when Charlotte was six."
"I'm so sorry," Lisa whispered.
"Your child—was it a boy or a girl?"
"A girl," Lisa said.
"Your daughter—she'll be part of you forever. The pain of losing her will always be with you." Lisbon's breath caught. She so rarely heard him talk about Charlotte. Her heart hurting for him, Lisbon silently reached over and squeezed his hand. Jane squeezed her hand back and took a deep breath. "But over time, the pain will become bearable. There will be other things in your life—moments of happiness, of comfort, of…of tenderness—that will make it easier to bear the weight of that loss. People and experiences that make you stronger. That add richness and purpose to your life." He glanced at Lisbon with a rueful, sad smile. "Whether you like it or not."
Lisa's eyes shone with a desperate mix of hope and despair. "Really?"
"Truly," Jane promised. "I know it seems impossible right now. When every breath is a struggle. But Dr. Geissinger is right about talking to a doctor. I'm not a fan of doctors, myself. But I had a good one. She helped me get through the worst of it. And after that—well. Now I have people in my life who refuse to let me spend all my time spiraling back into my default mode of anger and obsession. One in particular." He raised Lisbon's hand to his lips and kissed it. "It's frustrating sometimes, but I've learned that their persistent interference in my life is a gift of incalculable worth."
Lisbon flushed, discomposed in equal parts by the kiss and his words. Did he really believe that?
Jane turned to Lisbon. He reached out and stroked her hair with his free hand. "I know I don't always like to show it, but I'm deeply grateful for your refusal to give up on me, my dear."
Lisbon couldn't think of anything to say in response to this. She knew how she wanted to respond, she thought, looking at his mouth. But there were all these people here, and Jane might get the wrong idea.
To hell with it, she decided. They were undercover, weren't they? Wasn't this what Jane had lectured her about? Being believable as a couple? She leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to his lips.
When she pulled back, Jane looked surprised, but his eyes were soft and pleased.
"Thank you for sharing, Patrick," Dr. Geissinger said.
"Yes," Lisa said to Jane. "Thank you. Really."
"You're welcome," Jane said simply. He held tightly to Lisbon's hand.
Dr. Geissinger addressed Stephen and Lisa. "Lisa, Stephen, is there anything else you would like to share with the group?"
"Not right now," Lisa said firmly. But she looked thoughtful.
"Very well." Dr. Geissinger checked her watch. "It looks like we're just about out of time. We'll regroup this afternoon. I hope you take this time to relax and reflect on what you've all heard from each other this morning."
The group broke up.