A/N: A sincere thank you for those of you who reviewed the last chapter of this fic, and for your patience in waiting for this update. While I was away on vacation, I realized I could easily conclude this story in one final chapter, so that is what I have done here. The last sections are on the M side, but not too distasteful, I hope.
P.S.: Attention nerds: check out Isaac Newton for an explanation of this chapter's title.
Chapter 6: The Law of Universal Gravitation
Jane and Lisbon sat and didn't watch the ballgame for an entire inning, their roiling thoughts keeping them too occupied to focus on the field. Lisbon had long since turned off her phone in aggravation. During the third inning stretch, Jane was brave enough to look over at Lisbon.
"Let's get out of here, he said with sudden determination.
"But it's only the third inning," she said automatically, with no real conviction.
He gave her a look of wry incredulity.
"All right," she said on a sigh.
He took her hand and practically dragged her down the steps of the bleachers, pulling her through the crush surrounding the concession stands, then out the gate and into the parking lot. The lights shone brightly from the stadium, and they could hear the distant call of the next batter up. It was only then that Jane slowed down, but still held fast to her hand.
"I guess we should talk," Lisbon said reluctantly.
Jane came to a complete stop and turned to look at her.
"We've been talking for ten years, Lisbon. I really don't want to talk anymore."
She saw the intent in his eyes and backed away a step. So, she wasn't much for public displays, he realized. He wasn't either, to tell the truth, but at the moment he didn't care who saw them, who knew what he was feeling for this woman, now that his emotional and physical dam had been broken.
He acceded to her wishes, however, and they continued their trek back to Jane's car. When they reached the Citroen, Jane stopped so abruptly that Lisbon ran into him, which put her exactly where he wanted her. He grinned at her discomposure and dipped his head down to find her lips again, proceeding to kiss her for all he was worth.
He found he liked taking her off guard, liked the way she hesitated before throwing herself body and soul into their kisses. It made his galloping heart suddenly jump with glee, very much like looking down from the crest of a roller coaster's first hill. He smiled against her lips, but when she made a soft sound in her throat as she kissed him back, his smile disappeared and he became profoundly serious.
I'm kissing Lisbon, his mind said surreally. Teresa, whom I've always dreamed of kissing like this.
Deeply and slowly, as if they weren't standing in the middle of the Oakland Coliseum parking lot, they explored each other's mouths, learned their tastes, learned what movements made the other shudder with arousal. Jane didn't pause now to think about what this might mean to their friendship, let alone to their working relationship, although he had the sneaking suspicion Lisbon might be (if she were thinking at all). For the first time in years, he was following his heart and doing exactly what he wanted, unmindful of what would be the best way to get Red John, without some ulterior motive to flush out a killer. This was all for him, and for his love of Lisbon.
"Jane," she was saying, as her body grew weak in his arms. He'd slid his mouth across her cheek to her ear, his arms wrapped around her so she wouldn't fall limply to the pavement. But also so he could stand as closely as he could to her warmth, her softness, her sweetly feminine scent.
"Teresa," he replied in a whisper. He felt her shiver and he lingered at her neck.
"Jane, can we please find somewhere less public to not talk?"
He chuckled in such a seductive way that she almost pulled him back for another drugging kiss, but they had to stop this before they ended up making love on the hood of Jane's car. He lifted his head to examine her, noting with simmering passion her swollen lips and dazed eyes. He could get used to this Lisbon, and he vowed to see her like this as often as she allowed him.
"I'd like to show you something," he said. "You game?"
She smiled shyly. "Sure."
From the baseball field the loudspeaker announced that someone for the A's had hit a homerun.
Jane opened the passenger door for her and she settled heavily into the seat, heart pounding frantically. She had only a moment to catch her breath before he got in and started the car. She watched as he expertly maneuvered through the parking lot, then turned toward a residential area in Oakland. She slid back against her seat as the Citroen struggled to climb a particularly steep hill, before Jane turned past a sign marked Scenic Turnout. He put the car in park and Lisbon stared out the windshield, catching her breath in surprise.
Spread out before them like a jeweled black blanket were the lights of Oakland, and beyond that the Bay Bridge. Further out, the twinkling dots that made up San Francisco beckoned to them from across the bay.
"Wow," she breathed.
"Indeed," he said, but she sensed he was looking at her and not the view.
It was then that Lisbon noticed the cars parked beside them, their windows fogged up suspiciously. Her eyes narrowed.
"You brought me to the local Inspiration Point, didn't you?"
His teeth shone brightly in the dim light. He shrugged. "Guilty as charged."
"I don't even want to know how you knew about this place."
"It was the most private place I could think of on such short notice, unless you want to find a hotel room somewhere, which I admit I wouldn't find to be a completely horrible idea—"
"No, this is fine," she rushed to say. The interior of the Citroen wasn't large enough for them to get into too much trouble. A hotel room, on the other hand…
When Jane spoke next, he was suddenly solemn. "You're right, Teresa; we should talk about this. I'll go first."
"Okay."
"You must feel like this is too sudden, too much to take in, even though we've known each other the better part of a decade."
"Yes, but—"
He ignored her interruption. "You are afraid of how this will affect us and the team. You wonder if I'm really ready for a relationship with anyone. What's more, you question my feelings for you, given how I denied expressing them once before…"
His words hung in the air of the quiet car, but then Lisbon spoke, her voice laced with gentle sarcasm.
"Well, great. I'm glad we had this conversation."
She hated it when he seemed to read her mind. Jane unbuckled his seatbelt and turned toward her, reaching for her cold hands.
"Let me answer your questions for you. It's not too fast, I am ready, and we will be up front with the team about this. Actually, the Jumbotron already helped us out with that. If anyone has issues with our relationship, they'll just have to deal with it."
"Now we're in a relationship?" she said incredulously. "I know it's been a while since you swam in the dating pool, but modern women aren't automatically ready to settle down after two kisses, Jane."
She tried to pull her hands away, but he tightened his grip.
"Don't give me that modern woman spiel again, Teresa. Kissing me is more than just a casual thing for you and you know it. I'm not some turtleneck wearing Lothario, only out for a one-night-stand—"
"Oh, really?" she said in offended disbelief. "Do I dare invoke the name of Lorelei Martins?"
"That was totally different. You are totally different," he said, his voice going low with emotion. "You want this as much as I do, and I'm not going to let you wiggle out of it because you're frightened—like I was before I kissed you. But now that I have," he said, reaching down to release the old-fashioned seatbelt at her waist, "I intend to do it as often as I can." He drew her closer across the bench seat, but he could still sense her token resistance.
"I'm not sure I like this caveman behavior," she said, but her voice lacked conviction. "Maybe I've created a monster by forcing you to undertake all these recent manly pursuits."
He grinned. "And you're going to try to put me off, just like a good girl from the sixties would, fearful I won't respect you in the morning." He reached up and brushed her hair back from her face. "But you don't have to worry on that score," he said softly.
She smiled, but her pulse had picked up speed at the tender way he was looking at her. "You're just trying to get into my pants."
"Yes, Lisbon. Yes, I am," he said, and then he found her lips again.
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
They had agreed to end the bet, but Lisbon couldn't resist one more day of wearing her sixties era garb, because she knew how much Jane enjoyed seeing her like that. He'd dropped her at home late the night before, after having made out like teenagers in the front seat of his car. But she hadn't let him go beyond second base, admittedly afraid that, despite the culmination of years of being in love with him, a hurried jump into the physical would somehow screw it up. She'd let him walk her to her apartment door and kiss her not so chastely goodnight, batting his wandering hands away. She'd almost relented, for a turned on Jane was a force to be reckoned with.
And so she'd arrived at work with a fluttering heart, ignoring the knowing looks and whispers from everyone who had either seen firsthand her very public kiss with her consultant, or heard about it through the tremendous CBI grapevine. Hell, the video of it was probably on YouTube for all she knew.
Jane was in his usual position on his couch, sipping the newly permitted tea in the silence before everyone else arrived to start the day. She nodded at him through the glass windows on her way to the coffee pot. Jane grinned and took his tea with him to meet her in the break room.
"Good morning. You look especially beautiful today," he said, admiring her Audrey Hepburn look from the first day of their bet.
She blushed. "Thank you. I wish you would wear your jeans to work sometime," she said boldly. He grinned and stepped closer.
"Hmm. You like those, do you?"
"There's something to be said about stereotypical macho male attire."
"And even more to say about dresses that zip down the back," he added wickedly, fingering the zipper pull at her nape.
"Ahem." Rigsby cleared his throat none too discreetly. "Morning," he said. "Great ballgame last night. Lots of homeruns." A barely contained grin hovered about his lips.
"I thought you were at the ballet with Van Pelt," said Lisbon.
"Oh, I was. I DVR'd the game though."
"Good for you," replied his boss coldly, and Rigsby sobered up immediately.
Lisbon finished pouring her coffee, lacing it with more sugar than usual. Jane still kept his grin, amused to see her so off balance. It was an endearing look for her.
"Staff meeting in twenty," she said before turning her back on the two men.
"Yes, Boss," said Rigsby obediently.
"She's just embarrassed," Jane explained when she'd left the break room.
"I can imagine. Boy, you really laid one on her, didn't you? I'm surprised she didn't sock you in the nose later."
"Who said she didn't?"
Rigsby looked at his face critically. It was hard to tell if there was any new damage there, given the still-mottled colors around his eye. Then his smile returned.
"I don't think so. She looked pretty into it. You both did."
Jane wasn't one to kiss and tell, although if a picture was worth a thousand words, a live broadcast had to be worth at least a million. He couldn't keep the smile off his face, either; he and Lisbon had plans for after work.
Van Pelt and Cho entered the break room, making a beeline to the coffee pot, Van Pelt holding a familiar pink bakery box. Thanking her profusely, Jane absconded with a blueberry muffin, Rigsby a jelly doughnut, and Cho a plane cake, the better to dunk in his coffee.
"How was the ballet last night?" Jane asked Van Pelt around a bite of muffin.
"I had to keep hitting Wayne to keep him awake, but other than that, it was beautiful." She gave Rigsby a dirty look, to which he shrugged unapologetically.
"I heard you and Lisbon had a good time at the ballgame though," she added with a wry grin.
Cho gave an almost inaudible snort of amusement, and left with his coffee and breakfast.
"Yes."
"Who won?" asked Van Pelt curiously, and Jane had the distinct impression she was testing him.
"The A's, ten to six." Jane was glad he happened to have heard the score on the radio that morning.
"Lisa from Vice told me she saw you two leaving not long after your uh, screen debut."
"Aw, Grace, you know gossip can be very unreliable."
"Oh, I know," she said, pulling out her phone. "That's why she texted me this picture of the two of you leaving. Note the time it was sent—somewhere around the time of the…third inning?"
"I wouldn't ask the boss," chimed in Rigsby. "She's very sensitive about it."
"She's just embarrassed," Van Pelt echoed Jane's earlier suggestion. "And who could blame her? I'd knock Rigsby out if he did such a thing."
Jane snared a bear claw for Lisbon to take with him to her office. "Apparently you and Wayne had a good long talk about my date with Lisbon. And let me say, Grace, I like your dress today. Wasn't it the same one you had on yesterday?"
Rigsby nearly choked on his doughnut, a vision of last night with Van Pelt suffusing his mind. She'd told him she once wanted to be a ballet dancer, then proceeded to prove to him how limber she still was. She hadn't had time to go home this morning.
Jane grinned knowingly, and slipped off to make his delivery to Lisbon, leaving Rigsby and Van Pelt staring at each other with blushing affection.
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Jane found Lisbon hard at work on her usual stack of forms, one lock of dark hair having fallen from her Hepburnesque updo. She looked up and took the pastry gratefully, having been too nervous that morning to eat a thing.
"How are you holding up?" he asked sympathetically, taking his place in the chair before her desk. "I know how much you love attention."
"I should have punched you in the nose the minute you kissed me," she said grumpily.
Jane's eyes sparkled at her. "That seems to be the consensus. But I'm glad you didn't."
Her annoyance with the situation immediately lessened. "Me too," she admitted.
"Come to dinner with me tonight. I'd like to do some actual talking. Well, and some more not talking would be nice too."
She nodded, her face rosy with anticipation.
"Okay."
"I'll pick you up at seven."
"I'll be ready," she said.
By then it was time for their monthly staff meeting, for which Lisbon was unusually grateful. No way she could concentrate on paperwork with her sexy consultant asleep on her couch.
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
At seven that evening, Jane knocked on Lisbon's apartment door. She wore a dress again, but this one was totally modern—it was a wrap dress, red and form fitting, with a deep V where the fabric crossed, revealing a tantalizing hint of cleavage. Black stilettos showed off the legs he'd enjoyed getting to know that week.
"My, oh my," he said in appreciation. "I see the merits now of living in the twenty-first century."
He was dressed in a navy blue suit that she had never seen before. It was obviously Italian and expensive, and with his hair carefully combed for once, he looked like he'd stepped off the cover of GQ. He'd even worn a tie, which she knew he hated. Except for his injured eye, he was perfect.
"You clean up nicely for a Neanderthal," she teased.
He punished her sassiness by pulling her roughly to his body with one hand, ravaging her mouth like the caveman she'd accused him of being, even tugging gently at her hair for emphasis. When he made a guttural sound in his throat, she laughed and pulled breathlessly away.
"Before you throw me over your shoulder and carry me off to your cave, we should be going, don't you think?"
He smiled, then brought from behind his back the present he'd been hiding-a florist's box with a clear plastic cover. Her eyes grew wide and then squinted with laughter.
"A corsage? You've gotta be kidding me."
Jane removed the delicate white orchid from its cardboard nest and slipped the attached elastic over her small wrist.
"I'm an old-fashioned guy, despite your attempts at making me otherwise."
She looked down at the beautiful flower. "It's lovely, really. And for the record, that's one of the things I love about you. You're a gentleman, and that trait is in limited supply these days."
She kissed his cheek, loving the feel of its smoothness beneath her lips, breathing in his sensual cologne. "Thank you," she whispered, and it was all Jane could do not to back her into her apartment and show her just how ungentlemanly he could be.
Xxxxxxxxxxxx
Dinner was delicious—a classy steakhouse known for its tender filet mignon and heavenly crème brulee. They talked and laughed just as they had always done, only now they found themselves teasing with their words as well as with their eyes.
"So," he began, midway through their salad course, "what will you take away from this experiment of ours?"
She cocked her head, munching on an endive leaf.
"Hmmm…that Eve's Vintage Apparel is the best place to buy sixties fashions." And that I love you with all my heart. But she didn't dare say that aloud.
"Yes," he said dryly. "That's good to know."
"You?" she asked, meeting his eyes over her wine glass.
"Well, it would seem that basketball is definitely not my sport, but damned if I don't have a new respect for baseball." And I never thought feeling this way would be possible again. His true thoughts remained unspoken, but they were there for her to see in his eyes, in his smile, just as he had clearly read the secret desire in hers.
"Nothing like a healthy appreciation for the great American pastime," she commented.
He reached across the table and briefly touched her hand, finding that he actually had to force himself to eat the incredible filet the waiter had set before him instead of acting on his baser instincts and fleeing with her to the nearest bed.
In some ways, dinner passed quickly, as they circled the real issue between them by debating the state of male and female relationships in modern society. But in other ways, the meal seemed to drag, as each one contemplated almost giddily what was likely to happen when they left the restaurant.
When the check finally arrived and they fought over who would pay (Jane won with little actual resistance), they found themselves hurrying to get out the door. On their way through the foyer, someone recognized them.
"Hey, Rachel," said a man to his date. "That's the kissing couple from the A's game."
Rachel's eyes lit up. "Yeah, I think you're right!"
"That was the best kiss I've ever seen on the Jumbotron," said the male patron to Jane. "You did mankind proud, man."
"Thank you," said Jane politely, though he was preening inside at the compliment.
Lisbon, however, was red as a beet.
"Honey," said Rachel to Lisbon, "if Jim kissed me like that, I'd probably faint. You hold on to this guy. He's a keeper." Her eyes roamed over Jane with unabashed appreciation.
Jim was suitably offended by his girl's remark, but Lisbon couldn't help but smile.
"Yes," she said, squeezing Jane's hand. "He is."
Outside the restaurant, Lisbon was the one to hasten Jane to the car this time. Before she slid into the passenger side, she kissed him gently on the lips.
"Let's go to my place," she whispered over her pounding heart.
He returned her kiss, holding back so he wouldn't make a scene in yet another parking lot.
"Good idea," he said.
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
The moment Lisbon's apartment door closed behind them, Jane's hands were at the front tie of her dress. He unwrapped her like a present, kissing each sweet curve he revealed, while Lisbon worked at disrobing him with equal fervor and delight. Their mouths fused together as clothes disappeared and Jane steered her toward the bedroom. When she stood naked before him, he picked her up in a decidedly domineering way, but she didn't mind at all, as long as he was carrying her to bed. Their trepidations of the night before had all but evaporated. Neither of them could think of a reason to wait a moment longer.
He laid her down on the green down comforter, kissing her deeply on the mouth before moving lower to her neck, then finding her breasts in the darkness. He suckled her, gently at first, then with increasing intensity, building up her arousal until her initial cries became long moans of need. His hand moved between their bodies, settling against the moist heat between her thighs. She trembled against him, and he massaged her there while his mouth continued to lick and tug at her sensitized breasts.
"Jane," she whimpered, her hands moving frantically from his hair to his shoulders, seeking relief from his sweet torment. "Please."
He moved up her body to kiss her again, his tongue plunging in deeply at the same time he entered her body. Becoming a part of her was so beautiful, so powerful, that for a moment, Jane's whole world went black, and he had to take a moment to acclimate himself to being surrounded by such intensity of feeling. Beneath him, Lisbon began to writhe impatiently, panting for him to move, undulating her hips to get him started again.
He groaned when she bent her knees, allowing him to go deeper still, and he somehow forced himself to come to his senses. His first slow stroke had her crying out, and they began a synchronous rhythm, their excitement building steadily until the bed quaked with their passion, the small bedroom echoing with their cries.
She found her release before he did, and the spasms of her climax threw his body into a frenzy. He continually rocked into her, his forehead and chest dampening with sweat as he neared the end of his endurance yet willed himself to hold out a few moments longer. His patience was rewarded by yet another yelp of impending orgasm, and he coaxed it out of her completely until he followed after her, calling her name as his body jerked and trembled in release.
Later, as their bodies cooled, Lisbon lay nestled against his side, her head resting upon his chest.
"I don't know why men and women fight against this," he said, his eyes closed in the midst of his euphoria, "why they resist what they know will be a forgone biological conclusion."
"Because we're not animals," she said lazily, her body still numb from the wondrous things he'd done to her. "There's much more to physical intimacy than inserting flap A into slot B."
She heard his soft chuckle beneath her ear. "I should hope so."
He felt her smile against his chest. "You know what I mean. If you are a person with more emotions than a tomcat, you make love with your mind just as much as your body."
She felt his kiss on the top of her head. "I'm not going to argue with that."
"Good, because you know I'm right." She reached up and kissed his bruised cheekbone. "Hey," she said, her hand coming up gingerly to caress his face. "I've been meaning to thank you for this."
He raised an inquisitive eyebrow. "For getting an elbow to the eye? I should think you'd be more grateful to Jesse from Vice, since you threaten bodily harm to me on a daily basis."
She looked at him seriously, her heart in her eyes. "Cho told me that you were defending my honor."
Jane was quiet a moment. "He shouldn't have. That was between that nitwit and me, and given that his jaw is likely in as sad a shape as my eye, I'd say we're even."
"Thank you nonetheless. That was very chivalrous of you, and I'm sorry I came down so hard on you for it."
"I'd have done it a million times over, suffered both eyes gouged out to protect your reputation. Anyone who doubts that your body was made for a man's is touched in the head, as far as I'm concerned."
He felt himself reliving those moments of intense, seeing-red anger, and his arms tightened about her as he rolled atop her once more, kissing her possessively. After a few moments, during which time she felt the evidence of his renewed desire against her stomach, he raised his head to look at her, straining to see her in the darkness.
"I might not be your stereotypical man's man, Lisbon, but I'm violently loyal to those I love. You of all people should know that."
"Those you love?" she whispered, and he realized what he had finally admitted.
"Yes," he said. "I love you, Teresa. I should have told you every day since the moment I first felt it. But frankly I was scared, and I felt guilty about feeling this way about anyone but my wife. But this past week I realized that fighting these feelings wasn't bringing my wife back, and it certainly hasn't landed me Red John…"
"No, it hasn't. And for what it's worth, I never really wanted you to change. I love you just the way you are—tea-drinking, gun-shy, suit-wearing, old-fashioned, and so incredibly sexy that you make my legs weak just by smiling at me. I love you, and have since the day you came into the CBI, so lost and tragic it nearly broke my heart."
"I hope I'm not that pathetic anymore," he said wistfully. "When I met you, I was a real basket case. You gave me something to live for, and I know I wouldn't have survived all these years of setbacks and disappointments without you in my life. So I'm the one who should be thanking you, Teresa."
He kissed her again and after a moment smoothly joined with her body once more.
Two weeks later…
Jane woke with a start to a sharp pounding on his door. Since he'd been spending practically every night making love to Lisbon lately, he'd finally claimed extreme sexual exhaustion, kissed Lisbon good-night, and retired to the relative quiet of his motel room.
"I'm not a young man anymore," he'd explained, "and my life has gone from famine to feast in a fortnight. I need my rest, such as it is, and the only way to resist you is to climb into my own bed…alone." It wasn't much of an exaggeration.
She had pouted prettily, but had told him she understood, teasing him about being too much woman for him.
"There's no arguing with that," he'd said with a smile.
He tried to ignore the knocking now, turning over and putting the pillow over his head, but it only seemed to increase.
"Open up," came a woman's guttural voice. "Police!"
Jane sat upright in his bed, tossing the pillow away in frustration. He stumbled out of bed, pajama shirt hanging open over the matching bottoms, and squinted through the peephole. Sure enough, the tunnel vision image of a policewoman stood on the other side, hair hidden beneath a blue police cap pulled low over her forehead, dark aviators covering her eyes. She must have sensed his presence behind the door, for she held up a badge from the San Francisco Police Department, completely filling the peephole. Jane had seen a lot of badges in his day, and this one looked pretty legitimate.
He yawned and reluctantly unbolted then unchained the door. By then, a few other motel patrons had opened their doors and peered curiously at the policewoman.
"Get back in your rooms," she ordered. "Police business." They quickly shut and locked themselves in, perfectly willing to stay out of the way of the police.
The moment Jane's door opened, she pushed it all the way in and stepped over the threshold. Jane, still bleary from sleep, stepped slowly out of her way.
"Look, Officer, I think you've got the wrong room—"
Then he looked at her—really looked at her, and laughed at his own gullibility. "Lisbon?"
"That's Officer Lisbon to you, pal," she said, pushing up the sleeves of her old SFPD jacket and advancing ominously toward him.
This fantasy was too good not to go along with, thought Jane. He smirked.
"What's this all about, Officer Lisbon?"
"You're under arrest, for being criminally handsome and stealing my heart."
The words sounded familiar to Jane, but he couldn't quite place where he'd heard them before.
"Okay, copper, you caught me." He raised his hands in surrender. She pushed him roughly onto the bed.
"Stay where you are," she ordered, then one hand went to the pocket of her jacket. Suddenly, music filled the room: Cheap Trick's, The Dream Police.
Lisbon's hand rose to the top of her jacket zipper. Slowly, hips swaying in time to the music, she began pulling down the zipper. Jane's eyes widened in appreciation, especially when he saw she wore nothing underneath.
He watched as she performed the sexiest striptease he had ever seen, dispensing with jacket and khaki uniform pants, until finally, she stood before him in only a black garter belt, stockings, and stilettos. Her dark hair was still tucked beneath her cap. She smiled at his enraptured expression.
"You missed something in the strip club, when you were out of your mind with pills and booze," she said, moving to sit on his lap, a thigh on either side of his on the bed. Her hands slid up his naked chest, pushing the pajama shirt off his shoulders and down his arms, the buttoned sleeves at his wrists effectively imprisoning his arms behind him.
She began undulating against the hardness of his groin, and every time he tried to kiss her, she moved her head away.
"No touching," she chided. "You called out my name during your last lap dance. I want you to get the right woman this time."
His breath hissed through his teeth as she rubbed herself more forcefully against him, her breasts bobbing tantalizingly out of his reach. Things were progressing to the point that he couldn't take much more before he embarrassed himself in his pants. Abruptly, he stopped playing along with her game, popping the buttons from his shirt and freeing his hand to pull her chest closer and taking one firm nipple between his teeth.
"Say my name," she pleaded.
"Lisbon," he murmured, kissing the warm hollow between her breasts, then: "Teresa."
Jane awoke with a start, breathing heavily, painfully hard from Officer Lisbon's teasing. Then he looked down to see it hadn't all been in his head. Lisbon had slipped beneath the covers, her hot mouth the cause of his very vivid dream.
He relaxed into the pillow of his motel room bed while Lisbon continued her delicious wake-up call. Before she'd taken him past the point of no return, however, she moved back up his body to slowly lower herself upon him. He watched in the lamplight as she took control of the pace, showing him how much she loved being the boss.
Sometimes, Jane thought, a man needed to be put firmly in his place.
THE END
A/N: I hope you enjoyed this fluffy little piece. That last bit was dedicated to my Twitter pals, Nerwen Aldarion and Glindaloveshoes. (You can follow me there as Donnamour1969, by the way).
And now I'm off to write the next chapter to the more serious fic of mine and waterbaby134's, "Red Roulette." Hope to see you there soon.
Thanks for reading—I'd love to hear what you think!