Domus Hadeum: Epilogue

Author's Note: Continued thanks to LittleMender for having my back literarily, as well as to all those who review and comment. Seriously, readers who enjoyed this story owe some gratitude to the people who made me want not only to keep going with this story but also not settle for slapping down any old words just to get it over and done. And boy howdy, did I ever want to be done with this fic ages ago. Also, the last two lines are courtesy of the Man of the house (and the Warner Brothers, now that I think of it).

A/N-2: This chapter has been edited so that it is less explicit and more in line with FFN standards. The original, unexpurgated, steamier version is available at Archive Of Our Own archiveofourown_org/ works /250398 /chapters /468484 (replace _ with . and delete extraneous spaces).

Previously: Dressing quickly, he showed up for breakfast at the first allowable moment, and began dropping hints on Lisbon's behalf immediately. Using his charm, his vociferous appreciation for the man's scrambled eggs, and a certain amount of playing for sympathy, Jane convinced the patriarch who put the breakfast in the Bed & Breakfast to give Lisbon a dispensation from the posted hours for serving hot food. He had hated the thought of waking her, but strongly believed that a muffin and coffee were grossly insufficient for restoring mental and physical strength and resilience.

She eventually got up and dressed after ten in the morning. Once properly caffeinated and nourished, she appeared more relaxed and healthy than he had seen her in months - years, even.

After breakfast he left Lisbon on her own for a few hours, returning to Malibu to attend to a few details - like contacting the painters recommended by Megan and approving the realtor's idea of leasing some carefully chosen furnishings to scatter around the house to fire up the imaginations of potential purchasers. While he was gone, Lisbon strolled around the grounds of the bed and breakfast and took advantage of the whirlpool in their suite.

When he got back they drove into town and found a little bistro to stop in for lunch. Discovering Moorpark College's theater department were performing "Harvey", he insisted on getting tickets for that night's show. The rest of the afternoon, they spent wandering into little shops, including a visit to a little boutique where he bought her shoes to go with the green dress to wear that night. In contrast to the pain and pressure of the week they had just gone through, this turned out to be a magically relaxed day.

Returning to their room after the play, they got into bed together. Lisbon succumbed to sleep right away. Jane lay awake, holding her. It was a restless night for him. The years of living in a state of insomnia had established a deeply ingrained pattern that would take more than finding closure for tragedy to erase. He went through relaxation exercises, and occupied his mind by concentrating on the sensual and emotional enjoyment of the moment. At least once, he found himself near tears again as he was inundated by grief and guilt and love. He did not try to sort out the proportions of each that were attached to which of the women in his heart. Eventually, his mind wound down enough to fall asleep, so he got a couple of hours of rest.

They ate breakfast together, then climbed into the Citroen to drive back to Sacramento. Jane dropped Lisbon at the CBI parking garage so she could pick up her own car. An hour later she was clearing spoiled food out of her refrigerator when he knocked on the door. She had been enjoying the quiet.

He brought in a suit bag with bulging pockets - toiletries and underwear. She quirked up an eyebrow at the sight.

"Come on, woman. You're not going to make me sleep in my motel room. The couch in your office is more of a home to me than that empty place. It's a month to month lease and I'll keep paying up there if you want me to. So anytime you want a night to yourself, I can make myself scarce. But -"

He took a breath and continued, "Not just yet, please." His impatience gave way to genuine pleading. His need of her had not come close to being satiated, and the upheaval of the last week made him turn to her for anchorage. His eyes were open for her to read. "I don't want to be there by myself right now."

Lisbon saw the depth of his need, and her craving for time alone shuffled into the back of her mind. "Hang your suits up in the closet. There's room."

She turned to go back into the kitchen and get back to work. Laying the bag over her sofa, Jane followed her. He tapped her shoulder. When she turned around, he wrapped a hand around the back of her neck, and drew her into a kiss, sweet and gentle.

"Thank you," he whispered. Here in Sacramento, under her roof, he lost the territorial advantage. Although he had been willing to put some effort into persuading her to let him stay, he was relieved that his own craving - for her to want him around - would not be denied now.

Before taking his clothes up to her bedroom, he went back out to his car. Bringing the flowers into her kitchen, Jane asked, "Have you ever forced bulbs?"

"Have I ever what?"

"Apparently not. We'll have to put the tulip bulbs in the refrigerator for a few months before next winter to get them to bloom again."

"Great. You can be in charge of that."

"Unless you take the notion to move back to Chicago, and buy a house - in which case we can plant them in the garden."

"Have you ever been to Chicago in winter? There's a reason I moved to California." The implication that he would be content to follow her on a cross-country move was not lost on her, but she put the thought to the back of her mind.

They spent the rest of that day puttering. She put him to work cleaning, so they were side by side in that as well as when they relaxed in front of the television. Their return to Sacramento in the early afternoon on Saturday did not usher in anything that could ever resemble "Happily Ever After". Fortunately they were both too experienced to expect it. The best anyone can hope for is a moment or two of magic mixed in with scrubbing the toilet and picking up the dry cleaning.

On Sunday evening, in the kitchen of Lisbon's apartment, she was putting together a salad for herself and leaving Jane to forage on his own. She felt him at her back. He nuzzled her ear. Her movements slowed as all her conscious thoughts were overtaken by his presence.

"Keep going. You need to eat more than just lettuce. You'll need your strength later," he whispered into her ear.

"Then stop distracting me."

"I have to touch you like this. It's a condition of existence." To punctuate his words, he pressed closer, molding his body to her back.

She stilled. It came to her that in the few mornings they had been together, she always woke to find him spooned against her back. No matter how they started the night - whether she collapsed onto him, spent after love-making, with her head resting on his chest, or they crawled into bed separately, exhausted - at some point before dawn he would be curled up around her.

More than once in their physical union he had worked under her direction to bring her to orgasm then pulled out, asking for satisfaction from her hand or mouth. She wanted to ask him if it was control or just the position that he needed. A mental image of handcuffing herself to her headboard and allowing him to take his pleasure in her body flashed through her mind and turned her knees to water. But in the same instant, she knew it was not what they needed.

"It was being pushed down and stripped that was the trigger, that night, Patrick. You know that, right? If you want to screw me from behind, all you have to do is ask. Mm, I like full body contact better than just joining at the hips."

At her words, arousal flooded him. He let go and took a step back.

"Problem?" she asked.

"No - but it seems to be in my best interest to let you eat quickly."

"Who says I'm planning to eat quickly?"

"Are you trying to torture me?"

"Yes." Lisbon grinned. She finished putting her salad together and sat down with it. "Exertion right after eating sounds like a recipe for a stomach ache. l think I'll read for a while when I'm done."

"You can try."

After she was done, she took out her book and settled in on her couch. Jane sat next to her. It began as flirtatious touches - stroking her arm, caressing her belly over her shirt. But soon he flicked a couple of buttons open then moved his hand closer to her breasts, sliding over her shirt, then under the opening he had made. She held on to her book, pretending to read, while he slipped his hand into her bra. Urging her to stretch out, he shifted so he was behind her. He pressed his lips to her shoulder. To play with her more, he opened a couple more buttons until her shirt was undone.

When his hand traveled down her chest to her belly, making circles around her belly button, she moaned, a bit disappointed. Slowly he tugged at the button of her jeans. As his hand pushed below the waist band, the zipper opened part way. He slid his fingers under the waist band of her panties, and traced a zigzag pattern down her lower abdomen between her hips.

Pulling his hand from inside her clothing, he drew the zipper all the way down. Then he took the book out of her hands and flung it across the room. "You look lovely every day, my dear, but this may be my favorite look for you. If I were in charge of the world, the palace dress code would forbid you buttoning things up," he said in a low voice, tickling her ear with his breath.

He brought his hand back up to tease her chest again.

"Do you really want every man on the planet to see me looking like I'm ready for a good lay?"

"They're welcome to look all they like. I'm the one who's getting you ready and laying you." His other hand snaked under her, caressing the skin under her breasts. Then he wrapped his whole arm around her, so that he could massage her chest. This freed up the first hand to return, sliding down into her panties to glide over her opening. One finger danced over the sensitive flesh, slick and sweet and burning.

"But you'll be," she was panting so it was getting harder to talk, "So busy... mmm... ruling the world... yeah... when will you have time?"

"I'll find a way - maybe fit you in between conferences with regional governors. Yes, you can stroll into my office looking pleasantly disheveled. My lieutenants will plot to kill me for the chance to comfort you in your hour of grief so they can seduce you. Then I'll have to arrest them all. And I don't like where this is going, so I'll step down from office. Who knew ruling a planet would be so worrisome?" His hands slowed down as he talked.

Lisbon noticed. "Patrick?"

"Yes, Teresa?"

"Little less plotting to take over the world, lot more action, if you please."

"As you wish." He redoubled his efforts to drive her crazy. Using his fingers and his palm, he soon had her humming in pleasure as her breathing got deeper. Rocking her hips against his hand, she reached mindlessly behind her, running her fingers through his hair, trying to turn enough to kiss him.

His arms tightened, not allowing enough movement to accomplish her goal. He nipped and suckled at her earlobe. "Let me do this for you. Let me make you feel good," he spoke low, almost in a whisper. "I've got you."

She was getting close to orgasm, each breath a moan, she needed just a bit more, just a little deeper, to bring her over the edge. One of her hands went to the breast that was not being attended to by his. He watched her and slowed his fingers.

"Umm, no, don't stop," she pleaded.

"Trust me, love." He eased his fingers out, running his palm over her entrance, gentle pressure keeping up her arousal.

"Need more. Please."

Angling his head over her shoulder, he pursed his lips and blew toward her chest. She gasped as the cool air dispersed over her skin. Then he brushed his fingers over her, feather-light touches soft enough to delight without tickling. She was more sensitized than ever, lost in his arms, feeling what he intended her to feel, goose-bumps forming in waves all over her skin, sweet tension releasing. When his hand slid back into her panties, circling, barely touching the surface of her most responsive flesh, around and around. He had discovered that this kind of stimulation would take her to impossible heights of pleasure without pushing over the edge of climax. She needed to be filled as well as teased. The blazing, honeyed torment made her hold herself rigid in his arms.

"Now, please. Now," she begged. "Need you inside me. Can't wait any more."

His own arousal began to master him. "Upstairs, on the bed."

"Can't move."

"I'll help you," he said. He guided her to sit upright again. Scooting out from behind her was an uncomfortable proposition, as hard as he was. But he survived getting up, and offered her a hand. Steadying each other, they made their way to the bedroom, not stopping even to kiss.

Clothes quickly shed, their mouths came together, fierce and hungry. Stopping to catch a breath, Lisbon felt the chill of her bare skin over the heat she had been experiencing.

"Patrick?" she asked in a soft voice, feeling almost shy. After skating so long at the edge of orgasm, she felt more naked of spirit than of body. This was the first time he had taken the lead since they consummated their relationship. The emotional balance felt different, like a sea change.

"Mmm, Teresa?

"What do you want to do?"

He tangled his hands in her hair, angling her head so he could nip at her lips, kissing her, his tongue thrusting into her mouth and sliding along hers. When their lips broke apart again, he said, "I want to lay you down on the bed, turn you over, and take you from behind."

"Oh. Yeah." Her words came out in a breathy voice. "Sounds good." He nuzzled her cheek before closing in on her mouth again. Her hands roamed over his chest, lightly stroking his nipples then caressing down his abdomen. His stomach muscles tightened reflexively when her hands reached his hips. His erection brushed against her belly. That sensation was almost enough to rob him of rationality.

"You want it too?" he asked.

"Mmhm."

"Good." Another searing kiss, and he walked her over to the bed. He sank down on it, bringing her with him. He got all the way in bed, and she followed. Lisbon rolled to face him, reaching out to him, running a hand over his skin. He kissed her lips, his hand tangled in the hair at the nape of her neck.

When her fingers traveled down past his waist to grasp him, sliding up and down, she reveled in the feel of velvet over steel. Her touch made his hips jerk. His hand left her hair, gliding down her body, the practiced stroke of his fingers quickly brought her back to a fever pitch of arousal.

Between a sigh and a moan, she whispered, "I'm ready."

"Turn over."

Lisbon did as he said. He kissed her near shoulder, and caressed the skin of her back. Then he nudged one knee then the other between her thighs. Propped up on one arm, he used the other to lift her hips, angling them so he could thrust into her.

Gasping at the deep penetration, she began to reach a hand to stroke herself. But Jane blocked her way, preferring to touch her himself, his hand pressing against her in rhythm with his thrusts. He nuzzled the back of her neck and whispered, "Is this ok?"

"Yeah, Patrick," she breathlessly responded. "Don't stop." With him hovering so close to her back, she felt surrounded, taken. And then she was felt swept away by the strength of him pushing into her as he went harder and faster, drowning thought in thrill. They panted in unison. Guttural moans voiced the pleasure that made their bodies clench over and over until they were spent. He collapsed on her.

Rolling to the side, he kissed her near shoulder gently and pulled her against him so he could hold her. He ran a hand up and down her side, tenderly caressing her skin, gently bringing her down and anchoring her to earth with him. When she could speak again, she simply said, "Wow."

"Liked that, did you?" he whispered in reply. Exhaustion took them both into a light sleep for a while.

Jane woke to find Lisbon's hand running up and down the arm he had wrapped around her.

"Want to get up for a while? It's still early and I'm hungry."

"You didn't have anything for supper. I think I'm just thirsty."

In the kitchen, they stood close to each other, little touches keeping them together as he put a sandwich together and she made tea. They were silent while they worked.

After he polished off his sandwich and started to look for cookies, he said, "I do like control, there's nothing new about that. But I've never had the urge to buy manacles or put a ball gag into someone's mouth."

Lisbon snorted a bit of tea, and choked out, "What?"

"You were wondering before - if I need to assert dominance to get off during intercourse, or if there is something about the position that I needed. It's a little of both, but more the latter. It doesn't have to be a rear entry position every time, but it does feel really good.

"It's easier for me to let go if I - " he took a breath and looked away, "don't have the distraction of eye contact. Sometimes it's overwhelming - seeing all the layers of the way you feel and think about me when I'm inside you. I can see when it's trust and love that lets you open up. I can see when a woman makes herself open just to shut me up and get it over with. I can see when the first few uncomfortable thrusts give way to something better, and when the potential for pleasure falls flat. It does no man's ego good to know that."

Tearing himself open for her inspection, he kept going. "I see how pain and pleasure are warp and weft for you. It has always made me feel a little too triumphant. It didn't used to bother me, before, but now I find it disturbing. And I can't escape it when I can see your eyes - even when, especially when you are taking charge."

"If it makes it difficult, why did you want me to keep my eyes open the first time?" she asked.

"I couldn't take hurting you again. I needed to know what I was doing to you."

"For the record, I thoroughly approved of what you were doing tonight." She leaned against him as they both finished drinking their tea.

IIIIIIIII

Back at work Monday morning, for all intents and purposes everything went back to normal. Lisbon still had a desk full of paperwork. Cho still saw much but talked little. Rigsby still gangled, mentally if not physically. Van Pelt still looked up to Lisbon and worried about the toll recent developments were taking on her. Jane still lazed on the couch, said things that stirred up trouble, and hatched plots of unusual scope.

Friday morning, Supervising Agent Hightower called Jane into her office.

"Patrick, it's good to see you looking so well. I can't imagine last week was all that easy for you."

"No, Madeleine, it wasn't. But we survived."

"Yes, you did." There was a slight emphasis on the 'you'. She obviously meant to include Lisbon in the statement. "You know the old saying 'Ceasar's wife must be above reproach'?"

"I've heard it."

"Agent Lisbon is the one wearing the laurel leaves in your relationship. You've been careful, so far. Keep that up. Because if you make a mess that is bigger than she can clean up, the consequences could be ugly for her. There are some things I cannot protect the two of you from. That is all up to you. Rules get made when problems come up. You don't want to cause the problem that causes the rule.

"And Patrick?" she continued.

"Yes, Madeleine?"

"Be happy."

"I don't deserve it."

"No, but she does. And when you're not happy, she's... less happy."

He nodded. Message received.

She kissed him on the cheek and shooed him out of her office.

Returning to lounge on the couch in Lisbon's office, he wore a smirk, causing Lisbon to ask, "Do I want to know what that was about?"

"Maybe not. Mostly she was calculating the chances of Mimi getting to augment her college fund by babysitting for us in a few years."

"She was not!"

"You're right. She was working too hard on not saying how pretty our babies would be to think that far ahead."

"I have a stapler. Right here."

"And right there is where it will stay. I glued it to your desk. I know your ways, Lisbon. You're going to have to ask Cho for the three-hole punch."

A couple of hours later he got up to stretch. Lisbon asked, "Jane, what do you want to do tonight?"

"Same thing we do every night, Teresa." Suddenly he was right behind her, one hand tracing around her shirt collar, two fingers fiddling with her top button. "Try to take over the world."

- Finis -