This one's my favourite so far. You'll have to read it to find out why.

Thanks to everyone who's read, reviewed, alerted and favourited. You're all stars!

When he pulled the Suburban into the driveway of their little house, Jane drew a deep sigh. Fortunately, no harm had befallen the car during the day, but there was still the small issue of him borrowing it without her knowledge. Stealing, she'd called it over the phone. Such a harsh term. Sure, he may not have technically asked her permission but he'd taken the car with every intention of bringing it back, which he had now done. It all made perfect sense.

Now all he had to do was convince Lisbon of that. He likened explaining things to Lisbon to negotiating a field riddled with land mines; he had to tread carefully, or she was liable to explode without provocation.

Gathering himself for the storm about to come, Jane put his key in the lock and turned it. He felt an odd sort of nostalgia as he did so. There was nothing quite like the feeling of coming home to an irate wife. Even though so many years had passed, it felt exactly the same, the nervous apprehension, the excuses and explanations whirling around in his head.

How many times had he arrived home to a stony-faced Angela, with her hands on her hips? She'd always liked to use the silent treatment to convey when she was really pissed off at him. She'd been a master at it, sometimes refusing to speak to him for days. Lisbon he suspected would have a different approach involving some shouting and a fair few death threats. He hoped he might be able to calm her down before she started throwing things however; her temper had been known to get the best of her on occasion and she could hurl projectiles with deadly accuracy.

The most important part now was to not show any fear. If she sensed weakness, she'd strike, and she would be merciless.

"Honey, I'm home!"

From the living room, Lisbon heard the call and immediately glanced at the clock on the wall. It was now seven o 'clock, a full hour and a half after she had called him. God only knew what he had been doing all that time. She followed the sound of his voice into the kitchen, where he was putting several bags down on the bench.

He seemed to hear her approach as he quickly swung around to face her.

"OK, before you start, the car's fine," he said. "It's all in one piece, sitting in the driveway. See for yourself if you don't believe me."

She walked up beside him and glanced out the window and sure enough, her car was parked exactly where he'd said it would be. Well, that was a relief at least, but it still didn't excuse the manner in which it had been taken.

"You know, I find it amazing that even though you work in law enforcement you don't seem to realise that stealing is wrong" she said.

He smirked. "What are you going to do, arrest me for grand theft auto? Yes, I took the car, yes I should have asked you first and I'm sorry I didn't, but it's back now, so let's just call it square. And just to help the forgiveness process along, I brought a peace offering."

He held out one of the bags to her and she smelled the delicious aroma of Thai food wafting from it. She hadn't eaten since breakfast this morning, and it only dawned on her now how hungry she actually was.

"I got all your favourites," he said. "And I also bought us this."

This time he pulled from another bag a bottle of red wine. Expensive red wine too, by the looks of it.

"I know the CBI are funding this little misadventure but I'm not sure Thai banquets and wine are really viable as a state expense," she said.

"Oh don't worry, I didn't use the card," he said, referring to the credit card they'd been given for the duration of the assignment.

"Then how did you pay for all of this?" she asked.

He grinned at her. "Well the food is courtesy of my new friend Martin Sims, and we have Curtis Fairburn to thank for the wine…"

She rolled her eyes at him. "Please don't say you bought all this from money you won gambling."

"Fine. I won't say it." He turned to get plates out of the cupboard.

"Jane…"

"What? I am just a regular guy who may or may not have got lucky on a few hands of poker and may or may not have come home with a little more money than when he started. It's the American dream you know. All the cash, with zero the effort."

"Yeah, you're a real trailblazer," she said, irritably. "So how much did you win?"

"A gentleman never talks business with a lady."

"Well since there's no gentleman in this room, I think we're in the clear."

He paused in opening the Thai cartons and raised his eyebrows at her. "That was a little below the belt, Lisbon. Just saying."

"Sometimes the truth hurts, Jane," she shot back. "Just saying."

"My, my we have exceeded our daily dose of feisty pills this evening," he said calmly. "Are you sure you spent the day at a day spa?"

"All the day spas on Earth couldn't help my stress levels, which for some reason always seem to get so much higher when I'm around you."

"Maybe you're confusing stress with all that pent-up lust and desire you're harbouring for me. You ever need a release, you just say the word."

"The only pent-up feelings I have concerning you are bloodlust and the desire to break your neck. Can I release those on you instead?"

"Lisbon I'm a lover, not a fighter. Anytime you want me to prove it to you, just let me know." He winked at her, and she forced herself not to smile. "Now in the meantime how about you do something constructive like open the wine?"

"No, it feels wrong to drink it. That poor guy probably gave you everything he had and you wasted it on wine."

"Come on," he said. "I slaved away for seven whole minutes in that poker game to win this money, doing my job as husband and provider. So now you have to do your job as my loving and supportive wife and enjoy the spoils. And besides," he added, holding out the bottle. "He didn't give me half of what he had tucked away in his wallet. I saw for myself. Can't play cards worth a damn, but he's no fool when it comes to money."

"You're sure?"

"There was a wad of bills in there as thick as a copy of 'War and Peace.'"

Hating him, she took the bottle from him and poured out two glasses. She was no wine critic, but even she could tell by the bouquet of this particular wine that it had probably cost equal to her weekly salary. She tasted a bit. It was delicious. Well, it would want to be considering how much he'd no doubt paid for it. Or apparently, what Curtis Fairburn had paid for it.

Once they were both settled with a plateful of food each, forgoing the dining table for the greater comfort of the couch, Jane raised his glass.

"I propose a toast."

"To what?"

He thought for a moment, before his face broke into it's usual grin. "To Martin Sims, Curtis Fairburn and the fact that there will always be another sucker who thinks he can beat me at poker."

She couldn't suppress a laugh at this, and he beamed at her. This was just what he'd been hoping for. Just the two of them, spending time together, not talking about work. Lisbon relaxed, smiling, enjoying his company instead of stressed out and upset.

"How about we toast to solving the case instead?" she suggested.

"You're such a cop," he said, chuckling, but he clinked his glass with hers anyway. Even miles away from the CBI, in a new house, in a new town, with a new name, she was still the straight-and-narrow-but-fiery-as-hell policewoman at heart. He was glad for that.

That was the woman he'd fallen for, after all.

After they'd eaten their fill, the empty plates lay forgotten at the side of the couch as he topped off their wine glasses for the second time.

Lisbon felt strangely mellow. Not drunk exactly, (she'd drunk enough hard liquor in her time to build up a reasonable tolerance to alcohol) but well fed, and strangely contented. For the first time, she wasn't thinking about the case, in fact she wasn't thinking much at all. Instead she allowed herself to simply feel. The soft carpet under her feet, the smooth consistency of the wine going down her throat, Jane's hand brushing against her leg as he moved to put the now-empty wine bottle on the floor. She didn't even think to worry about the fact that her whole body seemed to tense at the contact.

She was too busy feeling. And his touch felt good.

"You OK?" he asked her. "You're uncharacteristically quiet."

"I'm fine."

"What are you thinking about?"

"Honestly? Nothing."

He smiled. "Nothing? I find that hard to believe."

"No seriously, I'm just sitting here drinking my wine and not thinking. It's kind of nice."

"Did they slip some sedatives in your Thai or something?" he asked, with amusement. "I've never seen you this relaxed."

"Maybe it's a delayed effect of the day spa," she said. "Maybe it takes a couple of hours for it to kick in."

"I think it's because your body doesn't know how to handle not being on alert all the time. It went into shock."

They both laughed.

"It's nice to see you like this," he said. "You should really try to take some time out more often."

"And when exactly am I supposed to do that? Between work and my yoga class and cleaning up after your messes all the time, I feel like I barely have time to sleep sometimes, let alone just sit like this."

"You should make time."

She finished the rest of her wine and put the empty glass down next to the plates.

"Did you know that it's been over two years since I took a vacation?" she asked.

"Is that supposed to shock me?" Jane asked. "Because I'm sorry, but it really doesn't."

She smacked him playfully on the arm. "Shut up," she said. "Last time I took vacation, I was away from work for a week. I thought I'd be so thrilled to finally get some time to myself, away from all the madness. But after two days I was going crazy. All I wanted to do was be at work, where there was noise and people and action. Because when I was alone all I did was think."

"What about?"

"I thought about my life. I thought about how my apartment doesn't even feel like my home, because I'm hardly ever there. I thought about how the only real friends I have are Cho, Rigsby, Van Pelt and you. And I thought about how when I'm not at work I feel like a part of me disappears. That's why I don't like taking time off, it forces me to dwell on this sorry excuse I have for a life. And you know sometimes it makes me think, what if this is all I'll ever have?"

Most of this was probably just the wine talking, but Jane could detect genuine pain behind it. He knew what it was like to be lonely, and he certainly understood her motivation for taking refuge in the CBI. He'd been doing the same thing for years. But the thought of brilliant, vibrant Teresa Lisbon being relegated to the kind of life that he was living was almost more than he could bear.

She didn't deserve to feel alienated by the world. She deserved someone who made sure she knew how special she was. Someone who would treat her like a princess. Someone who would appreciate every single day how lucky they were just to have her in their life. And he wanted to be the one to give her those things.

"You know what you have to do?" he asked. "You've just got to stop thinking so much. Give that brain of yours a break and shut it off once in a while."

"Because that's so easy."

"I'm not saying it's easy, but you're managing OK right now," he said. "How is relaxing here any different to relaxing at home?"

"I guess it's because you're here," she said. "You're a good distraction."

"Well at least you think I'm good for something," he smiled.

"You're good at plenty of stuff Jane," she said, returning the smile. "But it all tends to be outweighed by your big mouth."

He laughed quietly and drained the rest of his wine.

"Care for another?" he asked as he got up.

"The bottle's empty."

"Sure, but we haven't even opened the second one yet. With compliments of John Slater."

She sighed. "Just how many people were in this poker game?"

He shrugged. "A few."

"And how much money did you win?" she asked, for the second time tonight.

"Enough," he said as he reached for the empty plates.

"Well thanks for being so clear about that," she said, sarcastically. "It's really annoying when people give cryptic answers to simple questions." She narrowed her eyes at him.

"Yes, I know," he said smoothly. "Don't you just hate that?" Beaming at her, he disappeared into the kitchen.

When he returned, he reached for her glass to refill it.

"Just half," she instructed him as he began to pour.

"Why not a full one?" he asked.

"Minelli will be calling for a progress check tomorrow morning," she said. "Don't want to be hung over while talking to my boss. Not a good idea."

"Ah, see you're doing it again, woman. Thinking too much about what's going to happen next instead of what's happening right now. You need to go with your impulses a bit more."

"What are you talking about?"

"You know why I think you feel unhappy with your life?" he asked. "You spend too much time planning and not enough time doing. You're not living."

"I never said I wasn't satisfied with my life," she said indignantly. "I love my job, you know that…"

"Satisfied' isn't the same as 'happy' Lisbon," he said.

"And what would you know about it?" she shot back, a little more forcefully then she'd intended. "You're not happy."

"You're right," he said calmly. "I'm miserable. I face every day wondering why I should even bother, and every day I give myself the same answer. I bother because I want justice for my family, and I bother because I don't want to lose the only two bright spots in my life."

"Your couch, and irritating everybody you meet to the point of madness?" she suggested.

"Close, but no," he said, smiling. "It's actually the team…and you."

"But that doesn't make any sense," she protested. "I'm on the team too."

"I know you are," he said. "But between us, you're sort of my favourite." She felt herself go red again, but if he asked, she'd blame it on the wine. "Don't tell anyone that though," he added. "It'd break Cho's heart if he found out."

She snorted. "You're hilarious."

"I'm not joking," he said. "Under that frosty demeanour beats the heart of a fragile, insecure man."

The snort turned into full-out laughter. "Make sure I'm there when you run that little theory by him, won't you?" His laughter mingled in with hers as they thought about that. Cho, their Cho, all gooey on the inside like a soft-centred chocolate? As if.

"Don't worry Jane," she said after a while once they were able to breathe normally again. "Your secret's safe with me."

There was something about the way she smiled at him, and how the dim lighting cast shadows across her face that made her even more irresistible than usual. Or maybe it was just the after effects of the wine that had made his inhibitions somewhat diminish. In either case, suddenly it didn't seem like such a dangerous thing to let his emotions run away with him. With the liquid courage he'd just consumed egging him on, he found himself reaching for her hand. She looked surprised, but allowed it.

"What are you doing?" she asked, in a whisper.

"Acting on impulse," he replied, as their fingers intertwined. The other hand he placed on the side of her face, and this time he didn't hesitate to bring their lips together. He'd been waiting long enough.

After years of longing and desire and suppressing his feelings because it wasn't professional, or safe, and because it was just plain wrong, he kissed her. Slowly and tenderly, taking his time, and putting every bit of the love he had for her into the kiss, as if that would make her miraculously understand.

The bad news was that she didn't kiss him back. The good news was that she hadn't pushed him away either. He was heartened by that. If it were up to him, he'd keep kissing her all night, but he knew that he had to slow it down a little. Baby steps, he reminded himself.

It took every ounce of self-control he possessed but somehow, some way, he managed to stop. He had to give her a chance to come to terms with it, before he blew it completely.

When he pulled away, he opened his eyes to see her with an expression of shock on her face.

"I confess that wasn't exactly just a fleeting impulse," he said. "Ever since we kissed at the CBI the other day, I've been wanting to do it again."

It seemed she had lost the ability to speak, so he took advantage of her silence to go on.

"Ever since the day I met you, I knew there was something between us. You and me, we've always had a spark, I always thought so. And then when we kissed, I was sure of it. And I think you felt it too."

She awkwardly averted her gaze from his, which he interpreted as her agreement.

"I haven't felt anything like this since my wife," he said. "I don't want to feel this way, it's like I'm disrespecting her memory or something, but the point is I do, and I don't want to keep pretending that I don't. It's tiring, lying to myself all the time."

Still, she said nothing.

"Come on, I'm baring my soul here," he said, only half-kiddingly. "You have to say something."

"We can't do this," she said, so quietly that he almost missed it.

There seemed to be a celebration going on inside his head at these words. What ever she said, she hadn't denied that there was something there for her too. There was hope yet.

"Why not?" he asked. "It's what we both want isn't it? That's reason enough for me."

"Jane we work together," she said. "You know the rules about employees dating. We can't do it. And besides, could you imagine us as a couple? All we'd do is fight even more than we do now."

"Sure, but we'd also get to have lots of hot make-up sex to settle our many disagreements, rather than just ignoring each other for a few days, like we usually do."

"You're not listening to me! What we feel isn't the issue here. It's against the rules, and that's all there is to it."

"No the issue is that I have feelings for you, you have feelings for me, and the longer we keep ignoring it, the worse it's going to get."

"We're adults Jane, we'll deal with it," she said, using her personal this-topic-of-conversation-is-now-closed voice, that she usually reserved for when he dared to ask questions about her past or her personal life.

But the way he saw it, whether she liked it or not, she wasn't his boss at the moment. They were partners on this, and he didn't feel like ending the discussion just yet. Maybe she was hoping that he was just joking around, and that if she just refused to acknowledge the issue for long enough, he'd drop it. Well, it was time to put an end to that notion.

"Do you have any good reason why we shouldn't?" he asked.

"Do you have any good reason why we should?"

Obviously he hadn't made himself clear when he told her that he wanted her. Or maybe he just needed to be a little more proactive.

So he kissed her again. And to his great satisfaction, this time she kissed him back.

Kissing Jane wasn't anything like Lisbon had imagined. It was better. Every other man she'd ever kissed paled in comparison, for no other man had kissed her like this. None of the others had taken the trouble to find the exact spot on her neck that made her moan with pleasure. None of the others had teased her by pulling their lips away just when she wanted the kiss to deepen more so that she made a small noise of protest and pulled him back to her again. None of the others had held her as close as if she were the most precious thing in the world. And none of the others had made her feel as though the earth had stopped turning, like time itself had simply frozen.

Somehow she'd ended up on top of him, lying on the couch in a tangle of limbs. Her top had ridden up at the back and she could feel his hands running slowly back and forth over the exposed skin there. The more he touched her, the more she wanted him to, the places he caressed feeling hot and more alive than they'd done in years. She wanted that delicious heat everywhere.

His hands roamed further up her back, sending shivers up her spine. In response, she kissed him with more passion than ever before, not pausing to draw breath until every last bit of oxygen had been expelled from her lungs, leaving them both gasping for air.

Suddenly bold, her fingers went to work on the buttons at the top of his shirt. When they refused to give way immediately, she pulled the fabric apart instead. Her fingers fell eagerly on his now-bare chest. She was pleased to discover that he reacted just as much to her touch as she had done to his. It wouldn't have been fair for him to drive her so crazy if she couldn't return the favour.

"Sexy as that was, you just destroyed one of my favourite shirts," he panted.

"And what are you going to do about it?" she asked, low and husky.

"Payback."

And all of a sudden, she couldn't think as he found the sweet spot on her neck again and concentrated on kissing it. It felt so good, it was near impossible to keep from crying out. And then when she thought she couldn't take it anymore, his lips captured hers again.

But then her fingers brushed against something unexpected, round, hard and metallic. His wedding ring. On the chain she had given him. And then reality came back. They were not Rachel and William Hayne, legally married couple. They were Teresa Lisbon and Patrick Jane, work colleagues, with too much alcohol in their systems, about to do something they would regret.

She stopped kissing him, and peeled his arms from around her. As soon as they parted company with her body, she felt cold.

"What's wrong?" he asked, as she pushed herself up off him.

"What are we doing?" she said. "I'm your boss, you're my consultant. You're still grieving for your wife, and here I am taking advantage of you. What kind of a sick person am I?"

Shaking his head a little to rid himself of the post-make out session haze, Jane forced his brain to engage.

"Two things Lisbon," he said. "Firstly, feel free to take advantage of me in that manner anytime you like. And secondly, I started that one, it's entirely my fault."

"I shouldn't have drunk so much of that wine."

"You're thinking again," he said, leaning towards her again, aiming for her collarbone which was now visible thanks to her dishevelled top. If he could just get her to shut up, then they could get back to where they were...he wasn't even close to finished finding out what made her moan.

"No!" she said, slapping him away. If she was going to hang on to this small shred of self-control she had, she couldn't let him get near her.

"OK, OK," he said, recognising defeat and shuffling further back along the couch to give her the space she seemed to want. "Well at least you can't pretend anymore that we don't have chemistry."

"This isn't funny! I'm going to bed."

As quick as lightning, she was on her feet and on the way out the door and up the stairs.

Jane shut off the lamp, and settled back down on the couch, where only minutes before she'd been lying on him, letting him do things to her that he'd only ever dreamed about before. It had been a little slice of heaven on Earth.

He'd expected her to freak out at some point, but why couldn't they have had a little longer? Fate had given him a shot with her, and then cruelly ripped it away from him in one fell swoop.

Upstairs, Lisbon lay in bed trying to think of anything other than the fact she'd just fallen victim to not one, but two of the seven deadly sins. Gluttony (for drinking all that goddamn wine) and Lust (self-explanatory.)

But if she was going to hell tonight, then what a way to go.

Come on, you didn't think I was going to let Lisbon give it up completely on a couch, under the influence of alcohol? She's got too much class for that.

I know there's no case development in this chapter, but I have a feeling I'll be forgiven. Am I right?