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CHAPTER 8: The Look
Jane stood behind Lisbon's wheelchair, glowering intensely at the latest setback they would be forced to face. He peeked around to see her expression. She, too, was perplexed. Her lips were pressed together and her head was tilted to the side as she stared at the staircase leading to the upstairs in her apartment. "You know," she finally said. "I can just stay down here on the couch and Van Pelt can bring my clothes down."
"How exactly are you going to get to the bathroom?" he asked.
She shrugged indifferently. "I don't think my neighbors would mind sharing. They only have one floor."
Jane scoffed. "Please." He was still a little bitter from their tender argument earlier, which they had both been pretending never happened. He bent down beside her chair and wrapped an arm around her small torso, just as he had done earlier that day, but Lisbon stopped him with a crazy look in her eyes.
"W-what do you think you're doing?" she demanded.
"What does it look like?" He raised his eyebrows at her. "I'm carrying you."
"That is completely unnecessary," she argued. "I am perfectly comfortable sleeping on the couch down here."
"Lisbon, you can't sleep on that lumpy couch." He scowled at her sofa. "You have injuries from head to toe. You need a bed to sleep in." He tightened his grip around her.
"Jane, I will be fine," she insisted.
Before she could argue once more, he snuck the other arm underneath her upper legs, being very careful not to accidentally bump the cast on her lower half of her left leg. He scooped her up effortlessly as if she were a small child. She let out a started gasp, even though she had known what was coming, and frantically threw her good arm around his neck as a reflex. "Jane, put me down!"
He rolled his eyes. "I won't drop you." Suddenly, a troubling thought came to him. "Your ribs! Are they okay?" He had her folded up pretty tightly.
"They're fine. They don't hurt anymore. Just put me down!"
He ignored her request as he began to carefully climb the staircase. "What about your hips?"
She sighed, giving up on her protesting. "They're okay, too."
When he reached the top of the stairs, he looked down at her. "Which door is your room?"
"Second one on the left."
Her door was slightly cracked, so he nudged it with his foot and walked through the doorframe. He was very careful not to bump Lisbon into the wall. Her bedroom was unorganized, but not at all disastrous. Though the bed was unmade and there were a few pairs of shoes scattered around the carpet, it looked like she picked up after herself nicely. Typical Lisbon.
"Sorry about the mess," she apologized as if she were reading his mind.
"It isn't messy at all," he told her honestly.
She looked up at him, noticing that she was still awkwardly resting in his arms. "Um, you can put me down now."
He seemed to snap back to reality. "Right." He took a step toward her bed and gently set her down into it, placing a fluffy pillow beneath her leg to prop it up. "I'm going to get your wheelchair," he said. "Anything you need?"
"A glass of water, please." She smiled gently at him. "There's tea in the cupboard, if you'd like some."
After hauling the wheelchair upstairs and rolling it next to her bed, Jane went back down the stairs to retrieve her glass of water. Though he was tempted to fix himself a cup of tea, he passed up the opportunity and returned to Lisbon's side. When she saw the glass of water in his hands, she smiled. "Thank you." But then he set the small bottle of pills on her bedside table, and she groaned. "They make me dizzy," she complained.
"Good. That means they're working." He glanced at the digital clock on the nightstand. "Don't worry, you don't have to take them for another hour."
She sighed heavily and took a sip of her water.
After a few moments of uncomfortable silence, he clapped his hands together. "Well, I bet you're exhausted," he commented. "I'll be downstairs if you need me." He turned to leave.
"No!" she gasped, startling him. Realizing what she had just done, she quickly rearranged her facial expression to a more relaxed state. "I mean, no, I probably won't need you. But you may need to dig around the couch cushions for the TV remote because I always have to do that." She attempted to appear calm and casual.
He couldn't contain the smile that crept across his lips. "Or I could stay with you. Would you like me to stay?"
"What? No. Don't be ridiculous."
"I'm just asking."
"No, you're accusing. It's different."
He chuckled, amused. "Lisbon, I'm not accusing you of anything," he reassured her. "You're vulnerable right now. I understand that. If you would like me to stay with you until Grace arrives, I'd be happy to."
She rolled her eyes. "You and your damn analyzing."
"Would you like me to stay?" he asked for the second time.
"Yes," she confessed.
He grinned. "Great." He dragged the chair that was in the corner of her bedroom next to her bed and took a seat. He folded his hands in his lap, glancing at Lisbon apologetically. "I'm not very good company."
Lisbon shrugged. "You're company."
"You don't like being alone all the time, do you?"
"Sometimes I do."
"But not always," he guessed.
She scowled at him. "Are you interrogating me now?"
He threw his hands up, as if to say, I'm not armed. "No, I am not interrogating you. It was a simple question."
"I answered it."
Jane scanned her facial expression, softening his own. "I didn't mean to offend you," he told her gently.
She sighed. "I know. Sorry."
"It's okay." He sat back in his chair, not sure what to say now.
"I don't," she said after a few more moments of silence.
"I'm sorry?"
Her bright green eyes looked into his. "You asked me if I like being alone all the time," she explained. "Sometimes it's nice. The quiet can be peaceful. It helps me relax a bit after a tough day at work." She looked away, staring at the wall. "But most of the time, I don't like the silence."
He leaned forward curiously. "Why not?"
"Because it reminds me of all the things I haven't done in my life."
He didn't ask what she meant by that because he knew exactly what she was talking about. She hadn't married, or raised a family. Jane had known all along that deep down inside, this bothered her, but he never expected her to admit it aloud.
"You can still do those things," he said. Even though she probably assumed he was only saying this to be supportive, he meant it. When she looked at him doubtfully, he went on. "It's true! Lisbon, you have no idea what kind of person you are, do you?"
"Yes, I do," she defended.
"Enlighten me."
She knitted her brows together, laughing humorlessly. "No thank you."
"I'm serious. If you weren't you, and I asked you what you thought of Teresa Lisbon, what would you tell me?"
"That's an odd thing to ask."
"Answer the question," he said firmly.
She pushed the hair out of her face, leaning her head back against the wall above her bed. "I would tell you..." she trailed off thoughtfully. "I would tell you that Teresa Lisbon is stubborn, and a bit high-strung. Oh, and that her patience needs serious work."
He pondered this. "I would have to agree with you."
She laughed.
Jane smiled, shaking his head. "You forgot a few things."
"Did I?" She brought her index finger to her chin, pretending to think hard. "Oh! I have trust issues."
He nodded. "True. Not what I was referring to, though."
"I give up."
He took a deep breath, hoping she couldn't hear his heart rate accelerating wildly. "You forgot about caring."
"Oh, please."
"It's true. If I had a dollar for every time I caught you looking at me with that classic, worried expression on your face, I would be a rich man."
She blushed. "I don't do that."
"You do, too." Now he was accusing. "The first time I noticed it was our very first Red John case together. Now, it's like a pattern." He began to count off of his fingers. "Anytime there is a child involved in a case, I get The Look. Anytime Red John is involved, I get The Look. And I get The Look whenever Kristina Frye's name comes up."
The pink on her cheeks transformed to a brilliant shade of red. She was speechless.
"Don't be embarrassed," he pleaded. "You care about me, Lisbon. Nothing wrong with that."
"I... you... I mean," she stammered. "You're my friend."
"That's what I meant," he said quickly.
She nodded, spacing off and lost in thought. "Am I really as translucent as you say I am?" she asked wistfully.
He smiled sympathetically. "Yes, my dear. You are. But in all honesty, I think it may be just me that sees right through you," he said reassuringly. "I don't think you are completely readable to other people."
"Yes, because no one is as smart as you," she quipped sarcastically, grinning at him.
"Exactly." He laughed.
Just as she was about to say something else, they heard the front door slam downstairs and Grace's voice call out, "Boss? Jane?"
"We're upstairs," Jane shouted back, turning to Lisbon. "I should go now."
"Okay." As he stood to leave, she grasped the sleeve of his jacket desperately. "Jane," she croaked. "Do you think I will ever remember why all of this happened?"
The sudden question caught him off guard, and he just stood there and stared, unsure of what to say. Grace appeared in the doorway, and her friendly smile faltered as she saw Lisbon clinging to Jane. "S-sorry," Grace stuttered.
"You're fine, Grace." Jane smiled at her. "I was just leaving. You girls have a nice day." He gently shook Lisbon's hand away and left the apartment without answering her blunt question.
A/N: I know, it wasn't very long. I apologize for that. I did make an effort to add a little fluff. Did I succeed? Review (or PM, or both!) and let me know! :) Thanks for reading! Always appreciated.