It's not easy having yourself a good time
Greasing up those bets and betters
Watching out they don't four-letter
Fuck and kiss you both at the same time
Smells-like something I've forgotten
Curled up died and now it's rotten

-"I Can't Decide", Scissor Sisters

He led her around the corner of the house to the patio, and rounded on her. Quirking his mouth into a smirk, he stared into her eyes. Still holding her arm with his right hand, he stepped closer, running the fingers of his left hand over her stomach. She wanted to flinch away from his touch and his gaze, but she held herself still. The air was chilly and damp. In moments, Lisbon was covered in goose flesh. Her nipples became even more prominent under the thin material of Jane's t-shirt.

"Look at you. Suddenly you're afraid that I'm going to, what? Push you to your knees and hold your head? Force you to choose between saving me from myself or protecting yourself from rape? It won't work like that." Nodding down at himself, he said, "You may not have expected my body to react to yours, but it isn't important. I don't have to use violence to subjugate you. I've owned you for years, Teresa. Every man who's come within fifteen feet of you in my presence knows who you belong to. Mashburn knew he needed my approval to touch you. Sam Bosco hated it, and hated even more that you let me."

Jane wanted to keep her shock at mention of those names focused on him. He trailed his fingers up her chest to place his hand on her, so that his thumb lay across her collar bone, fingers splayed, palm flat against her skin. If he had placed his hand two inches higher, he would be choking her. Two inches lower would give the lie to him not intending to violate her. But the warmth of his hand gave her strength he had not intended, allowing her to feel the deep connection, the union forged over the years that still pulsed between them.

She felt calmer and stronger than she had since he brought her outside. "And why have you let me mark you like that? I wonder. Do you like the feeling of belonging to a man, to me, without having to give up any control the way you would in a real relationship? Now you're going to repay me for what you took by giving all that control, all that power to me."

The calm she had gained let her think beyond her fear. "Here's the thing, Jane. At the heart of it, there is only so much power in dealing out pain or death. The real power is in life, in joy, in love. You had more power when you created your family, than Red John had when he killed them. You want power over me - how much power do you want? Just enough to destroy me, or do you want more than that?" She paused to take a deep breath.

He interrupted, "I want the same power over you that you used against me, but I don't know how to take the reason for living away from someone who thinks living is reason enough. So I'll settle for making you face just how much control I can take from you."

That was enough to rob her of her calm. "Bite me. Whatever you think is going on here, you don't own me."

He pushed her to the wall, pinned both her arms, and nuzzled her ear. He dropped his voice an octave, and quietly said, "You like telling yourself that, but here you are, sleeping in my bed, wearing my clothes. You are mine."

"You used to say that about Red John."

"Don't worry Teresa, it's not the same at all. I don't have to hunt you. You gave yourself to me a long time ago. I used to put some effort into not using that against you too often, but now, no more soft shoe, no more dancing around this. Where?"

"Where what?"

"Don't play stupid. Where do you want to feel my teeth? Here?" He bit her left earlobe gently. She gasped and shuddered to feel his mouth on her sensitive skin. Then he stroked the skin of her neck with his nose, tracing down to the base of her throat, asked "Or here?" and bit her harder just above her collarbone. She whimpered and squirmed. He groaned so low it sounded like a growl, and asked, "Do you want to bleed?"

"No." The word came out as a pleading whisper. She felt like she was drowning, that she could neither breathe nor move.

His eyes were half-closed as he pressed himself harder against her, and nuzzled his way across her throat, up her neck, and bit the corner of her jaw. This time he held on to her skin until teeth marks set in and her eyes began to water.

He pulled back to look at what he had done to her, satisfied he had not broken skin. Seeing his imprint on her, his own breathing came quick and shallow. At once both aroused and disgusted with his actions, he let go of her and stepped back. He commanded, "Go inside. Now. Do your laundry." Stalking off in the other direction, he went around the house to his car.

Lisbon followed his instructions, moving slowly, shaking. Before she could close the door behind her, she heard the sound of a car starting. She waited until she heard it drive off before allowing tears to come.