Authors Note: Sorry, my nephew was just so cute I forgot to update :)

Disclaimer: Not mine, or I wouldn't be cramming into a 12 person van with 12 strangers to get home.

Rigsby brought him coffee in the morning and a whispered "I know you prefer tea, but this should help with the after affects." He didn't say after affects of what, but they both knew. Jane ignored the pointed looks thrown his way from Van Pelt; just because she was sleeping with the person he'd called to come get him the night before didn't make it any of her business.

"You might want to go to the bank Jane." Van Pelt said at lunch time when everyone was going out. He still hadn't moved off the couch. He needed to, but not while Lisbon was there to see that he was even more rumpled than normal. He needed to go to the bathroom, brush his teeth; visit the small indoor gym and locker room that they had at the CBI building, but not while she was here, not while she could see him.

The alcohol had worked; last night had been a dreamless, if not restful, sleep. He'd woken unrested, but there had been no dreams of her hands on his body, of her lips on his, touching him, caressing him. His mind had been having her do things she hadn't even done, and he was glad to have a night off from. It was late now, most people gone for the evening, and he had spent the whole day 'sleeping' because he didn't want to face her. He heard her foot falls coming towards him; she was going to try to talk to him, he didn't know if he could handle that.

"Jane, did you sleep here last night?"

He kept his eyes closed, "Well, yes, but only because it was easier," and cheaper and quicker than a cab ride to Malibu, but she didn't need to know that. He really needed to get a new apartment here in town. He'd gotten rid of the last one he'd had; he never stayed in one place very long; a sense of normalcy wasn't what he was looking for.

"Jane, you really need to start taking care of yourself." He voice was tender and close to his face. He couldn't handle that.

"I'm fine, Lisbon. I don't need your concern." He tried to put as much disdain as possible into his voice, knowing that was the only way to get her to leave him alone.

"That's not going to work on me." And then her lips were on his, soft and tender, and his body ached for contact. And though he knew they were at work and that he shouldn't, he kissed her back, opening his mouth to her, their tongues meeting, nipping, sucking; everything he remembered and more.

He brought his hands up to stroke her hair; she'd worn it down today, making it easy for him to slip his fingers into it, down to her neck, pulling her closer, down on top of him, her weight a gentle pressure welcomed after all this time without it. And though it had only been two days since he'd felt her lips on his, her hands on his body it felt like an eternity and he was just now breaking a fast.

He moved his hands down her back—feeling her deceptively smooth shoulders—to her ass, cupping it, pulling her to him, grinding his hips against her. She's moving her hands down his face, his shoulders, between their bodies, her hands on his pants button…and neither cared that they were still at work, that this isn't something they should be doing, regardless of whether anyone was left in the building.

She pulled his zipper down, as he continued exploring her mouth with his, still massaging her ass, rocking her against him to feel the pressure. And then her hands were in his pants, circling him and he gasped against her mouth, breaking the kiss, moving to the spot on her jaw that she had loved so much just a few nights before. He moved his hands from her back to her hips, up her shirt and around to cup her breast beneath her shirt, over her bra. He wanted to touch her flesh, feel her naked against him.

He slid his hands under her bra, feeling her warm flesh, thumbs over her nipples her gasp causing him to buck against her in turn. He needed to taste her, feel her beneath him. Her weight on him, while nice, wasn't what he wanted to feel. He wanted to feel her squirming under him, wanted to feel his skin pressed against hers.

He slid on the couch until she was under him, trapping her hands where they were on his erection. He lifted his hips slightly, freeing her hands to continue massaging him as he undid her pants, tugging them down to her knees; his pants following, hands on her, feeling her hot center, ready for him, and feeling her move below him, wiggling to get more contact, aching to have him in her.

He had to see her face, had to see that look when he pushed into her, that delightful look of pleasure. Struggling for control, he opened his eyes and saw…blackness, utter darkness. What the hell? He took a deep breath, trying to reconcile what he had just experienced with what he was now seeing. He was on his stomach, that much he knew, and on his couch at work.

He must have been dreaming, dreaming that Lisbon had come to him even after he'd pushed her away, even after he'd told her that it was a mistake. It had all been a dream, his memories playing tricks on him. He assessed his body's condition; still fully aroused and in no condition to turn over. He slipped his hand into his pocket and pulled out his cell phone to check the time, needing to know if he had even been awake at all that day, or if it had all been a dream. It was 11:00 PM, he'd been awake, the coffee cup Rigsby brought him was still sitting where he had left it, it was just Lisbon that he had dreamed.

He needed a drink.