Author's Note: You guys rock—I was really nervous about that last chapter but not a single one of you told me I was a deluded idiot. I definitely count joining this community as one of the best things I did this year. Happy New Year to you all, and may it be filled with fun reading and writing!

Chapter 14

It felt strange crawling into bed with a man for sleep rather than sex. But Jane acted like this was a normal occurrence, even when she found that spooning wasn't relaxing enough and turned to wrap herself around him.

"There's nothing to be embarrassed about," he whispered. "Just relax."

"I can't shut my mind off," she whispered back.

"I can help with that," he responded, sliding his fingers into her hair and pulling her face gently toward his. Then he gave her a series of sweet, closed-mouth kisses that were unlike any she'd ever received. They weren't meant to lead anywhere or evoke anything, but simply to express affection. It made her feel treasured, cherished. She wondered if this was something people who were together a long time did. She wondered if he'd kissed his wife this way.

"Relax," he murmured. "Think about something peaceful."

Peaceful? Only Jane would tell her to ignore the fact that a serial killer had planted a ridiculous idea in her head that could permanently screw up both their lives. Unless he had a different take on it. She'd asked him how he felt about sleeping together, but she had no idea what he was envisioning for their future. Red John knew him almost as well as she did—maybe he was handing Jane what he wanted. A new family would be a pretty big distraction, as well as a powerful incentive to behave.

There seemed to be things she couldn't bring herself to say to him, though. "Tell me what you're thinking," she said, hoping he'd read between the lines.

"I'm thinking about how to get you to fall asleep without applying the obvious remedy," he said, sounding a little exasperated. Then he sighed and said in a softer voice, "And I'm thinking I should be ashamed of how happy I am to be here with you, whatever the reason."

"Promise me something," she began tentatively.

"Tell me," he prompted when she didn't continue.

"Promise me you won't play me about any of this. I need to know that you're being honest with me. If you—if you change your mind, I want to know."

"I'm not going to change my mind," he said firmly.

"You might, if you thought you'd come up with a plan to keep me from getting hurt."

"No," he said, giving her another butterfly kiss. "There's no such plan. Because I think when he said he'd kill you if I didn't give up, he didn't mean he'd sneak up on you one night and do it the usual way. I think he's already put it in place, in your own head. So I wouldn't be able to blame anybody but myself."

"But you said I couldn't be forced to do anything against my character," she said. "I'm not suicidal. I'm Catholic; I believe it's a sin."

"True. But you have demonstrated a willingness to sacrifice your life for someone else's. It's all a matter of how it's framed. If you thought you could save me from something terrible by permanently removing yourself from my life, you might do it. Especially with whatever twisted train of thought he planted." His hand paused, then resumed its gentle massage of the back of her head. "He's been planning this for a while, I bet. I should have stayed away from you. I should never have drawn his attention to you."

"You did stay away from me, for six months," she pointed out. "And all it made me was miserable, not safer."

"It was already too late then," he murmured. "My choices led us here, Lisbon. I'm not going to blame you for any of it."

"No, of course not, because you'd rather feel guilty," she grumbled. "I hate to see you admitting defeat, Jane. Don't you think someday you'll regret it?"

"Lisbon, are you actually worried that I might deserve better? Because that's insane. I deserve far worse, actually. You're the one who deserves better."

"Shut up," she murmured. "You're a better man than you let yourself be, most of the time. But nobody could have handled this situation better. In fact, you've been so sweet to me that I'll probably be shocked and hurt when we go back to work and you start pulling your usual shit."

"If it's any consolation, there's a limit to the chaos even I can cause if you don't let me out of your sight. Although I am curious about how strong that urge would be if you were really concentrating on something else. Do you want to stop by the office tomorrow, just to check in?"

"Yes. But I don't want to embarrass myself, so please don't vanish on me."

"Don't worry. We'll stick to the simple stuff. You can do some paperwork while I catch up with all the latest happenings in the bullpen," he assured her. "And we won't stay long. We have things to do."

"We do?" So much for her assumption they would relax, snuggling and eating delicious meals. She'd actually been looking forward to it.

"Yes. I have to provide some clear, irrefutable evidence that I'm holding up my end of the deal. So I'm going down to Malibu to put my house on the market."

She pulled back, trying to make out his expression in the dim moonlight creeping around the edges of the curtains. "Are you sure?" she asked incredulously. "I mean, are you ready for that?"

"It will take a while to sell," he answered. "It takes a certain kind of buyer to live in a house where a serial killer struck. But meanwhile it will prove I'm serious."

"You didn't answer my question." Although maybe that was her answer.

"I don't know if I'm ready. But I know this is something I need to do. I don't know if it's a good idea to take you there, but we won't be there long."

Lisbon stared at him for a moment. He was still focused on her mental state and apparently not processing his own feelings about any of this. There'd be hell to pay when he finally did, she suspected. Unless of course he really was playing her and this was all an elaborate con aimed at Red John.

"You're tensing up again," Jane sighed. "Relax. You need to sleep."

"This isn't just you playing games with him again, is it? Because this is my sanity we're talking about, Jane. Please, please don't leave me out in the cold on this."

"Lisbon," he chided. "I'm not playing games. I promise you."

"I have to be able to trust you to help me," she said, trying to keep her voice steady.

"You can. Your welfare is my priority." He moved forward so their foreheads touched. "Teresa," he breathed, giving her name that exotic pronunciation she secretly loved. "I'm going to help you. No conditions, no exceptions, no excuses. You're not just someone I love." He drew in a breath, then whispered, "You're the one I can save."

She felt tears threatening. Of course. His abrupt change of heart made sense to her now. Although he blamed himself for his family's deaths, deep down he knew there was no way he could have anticipated the consequences of his televised remarks. But in her case, he had been clearly warned. He wasn't going to take chances with her life, and true to form, he was going all in, revealing no hesitation or uncertainty. She still thought there would be a price to pay later, but she no longer suspected he was playing a double game.

"I believe you," she said, planting a soft kiss on his lips. Then she closed her eyes and tried to relax, focusing on his fingers moving languidly through her hair. She murmured, "I don't want to dream about him."

"I'll be right here to wake you if you do," he promised. "Go to sleep, sweetheart."

mmm

When Lisbon was finally sleeping soundly, Jane began extricating himself from her embrace, slowly and patiently. He soothed her unhappy mumbling and reaching hands with whispered reassurance and kisses along her hairline, until he was finally able to slide out of bed and listen to her deep, even breathing. He needed to hurry, though. He wasn't sure if her being asleep would buy him much extra time.

Since his plan consisted of not having sex with Lisbon even if she really, really wanted to, he judged it to have a 30 percent chance of success at best. He needed a Plan B, which in this case stood for birth control. A quick look through her toiletries bag revealed that, as he'd thought, she was on the pill. Of course, now that her subconscious thought pregnancy was a desirable thing, he couldn't rely on her to keep taking it regularly. But it might buy him some time; he remembered using other forms of contraception after Angela had gone off the pill, so they could be sure it was entirely out of her system before they started trying for Charlotte.

He checked back in with Lisbon, stroking her hair and watching to make sure she wasn't troubled by bad dreams. Then he proceeded with his search. But at last he had to conclude that Lisbon wasn't keeping a stash of condoms anywhere. On reflection, he decided he shouldn't be surprised. Lisbon guarded her privacy fiercely, so she wouldn't bring casual dates here. As far as he knew, Mancini hadn't set foot in the place except for the morning he'd picked her up to drive her to the cabin. It made sense that she preferred to go to the guy's place, or perhaps meet in the neutral territory of a hotel room. He was possibly the first man to spend the night in this bedroom since she'd moved in. He found he liked that idea.

Sliding back into bed, he savored the feeling of her limbs immediately enfolding him. He could get used to this, he thought. Of course, it looked like he would have little choice.

He loved her, and he wanted to be with her. But he'd always thought that he'd have to coax Lisbon into anything beyond an impulsive one-night stand. He'd looked forward to it, he realized now. He'd never expected to be the one trying to slow things down, to make sure they weren't getting in over their heads.

He had never given serious thought to being a father again. He didn't think he deserved it, after how badly he'd failed Charlotte. But if he were to have another child, he wanted it to be with Lisbon. She would keep him from repeating his mistakes, and she'd kick anybody's ass who dared threaten their child. He'd need that assurance if they ended up trying to make a family knowing Red John was still out there. That was something he could never have imagined, as recently as two days ago.

But while he was sure Lisbon wanted him, because that predated what Red John had done, he was not sure what she wanted for their future. In the diner, he was pretty sure she'd been thinking about one night of red-hot sex and nothing more. But now part of her mind was telling her she had to be with him all the time and working out ways to build a life he wouldn't be tempted to abandon for his quest. That would obscure any original thoughts she might have had, and he very much wanted to know what those were. He didn't want to wake up with her a year from now, or two, or ten, and have her turn to him and say, "I never wanted this." Especially if there was a child wailing in her crib in the next room.

He shuddered a little at the image, and Lisbon's arms tightened around him. Of course, that wasn't a likely scenario, he thought. Lisbon took family seriously. Even if she grew disillusioned, she wouldn't break up a family or abandon her child. She'd just bury her unhappiness and soldier on. And he would know, but he might selfishly decide to pretend not to. That life sounded like it might grow into a worse hell than the previous one Red John had flung him into.

He needed to figure out what Lisbon really wanted, despite what she was currently thinking. No, that was the wrong way to look at it. He needed to remove the manipulated thoughts altogether. This was worse than hypnosis, because there wasn't a trigger he could hope to find. This would be more like behavioral therapy, which he had no desire to engage in.

The ultimate goal of Red John's manipulation of Lisbon's thoughts was to make Jane stop pursuing him. He wondered if he'd been getting close without realizing it. Or maybe this was revenge for Lorelei? That would be bitter, considering Jane had no access to Lorelei. Red John could probably see her easier than he could.

But the point was, Jane didn't merely have to convince whoever was watching of his sincerity; he had to convince Lisbon. If he could make her feel secure in their relationship, her worst symptoms should abate. Then they could go back to work, where she was on firmer ground, and that in turn would make her feel even more secure. Eventually they might achieve something like their normal lives again.

Putting the house up for sale would be a step in the right direction. He wondered if she'd think he was playing her if he started talking about buying a house here in Sacramento. Or maybe looking at rings. He was sure they weren't ready for that, but just talking about it might reassure her.

Rings. His was likely to be a much bigger problem than any he might contemplate buying her. And he knew he wasn't ready to take it off. Selling the house was one thing—he rarely spent time there anymore. Taking off his ring, which he wore everyday, would be a struggle.

One thing at a time, he told himself. Too much at once would likely be more than Lisbon would believe anyway.

A yawn surprised him. Her warmth and familiar scent were lulling him into a doze, he realized. All the better; he suspected he would need to be at the top of his game tomorrow.

mmm

Jane hummed a little in pleasure as he surfaced from his deep sleep. This was without doubt his favorite way to wake up, but it was a rare treat indeed, especially since Charlotte had gotten old enough to climb out of her bed and barge into their room in the pre-dawn hours. "Is it my birthday?" he teased in a lazy tone, without opening his eyes.

A husky chuckle answered him, and the fact that it wasn't Angela's registered at about the same time his nose processed that the lovely feminine scent surrounding him held hints of cinnamon instead of lavender. He was suddenly wide awake. "Lisbon?"

"You were expecting someone else?" she breathed in his ear before sinking her teeth into his earlobe, a sharp nip that made it even harder for his lust-addled brain to work out what was going on. Well, beyond the obvious. The fact that her hand was inside his pajama bottoms made it very, very hard to think. God, her little fingers were sneaky indeed.

"Yes," he gasped out after a second.

She pulled back to look at him, hurt, and he wanted to kick himself. He wasn't supposed to sleep with her, but he didn't want to hurt her feelings if he could help it. If he could derail her with pity, though, he'd do it, no matter how distasteful he found it. "I'm sorry," he said truthfully.

She frowned at him, withdrawing her hand. "Are you really not ready?" she asked, sounding uncertain. "I thought, after Lorelei..."

She trailed off, and he could feel her uncertainty chilling into discomfort.

"I had sex with Lorelei for reasons that had nothing to do with any kind of emotional commitment," he reminded her. "And sex was all it was. That's not what I want with you."

Her expression was conflicted, and he was struck with inspiration. Emotional commitment wasn't Lisbon's usual M.O., after all. He might be able to scare her off, temporarily, with the truth."When I make love with you, Teresa, that's what it will be. Not just sex. It will be a commitment, an expression of how much we love each other. The start of something permanent, part of the foundation of our new life together. And I need to be absolutely sure that's what it will be for you as well."

She blinked at him, turning his words over in her mind and looking for evidence that he might be conning her. He could see her deeply buried romantic side trying to surface but not quite making it. Still, it was time for desperate measures. "And I don't think I am quite ready. I know I should take this off." He held up his left hand so she could see the first rays of dawn glinting off the gold. "And I thought about it last night. But...I can't. Not yet." He swallowed. "I'm sorry."

"I don't want to push you," she said slowly. "But couldn't we...I don't need...we don't have to..."

He couldn't help smiling at her affectionately. She wasn't used to dealing with a man secure enough in his masculinity to admit wanting romance as well as sex, and she was thoroughly flustered. He took advantage of the pause to exert control over his body, which was strenuously objecting to his brain's choice to reject what she was offering. She was warm and strong and soft in all the right places, and God, he could smell how aroused she was. He bit back a groan and focused on slowing his heart rate.

"I'm sorry," she whispered finally.

"Don't be," he whispered back, pressing a chaste kiss against her lips. "I love you, and I want you. I just don't want either of us to have regrets. I have enough of those."

"I know," she sighed.

"Besides," he said, trying to lighten the tension between them, "we're going into the office today. You don't want to face a bunch of detectives with that telltale flush in your cheeks, do you?"

"Oh, I do not have a telltale flush," she said, sounding more like herself.

"My dear Lisbon, I have been able to tell every single time you've walked into the office after, as they say, getting some. And it hasn't escaped our colleagues' notice either, though they would never let on. But haven't you ever noticed that they choose those mornings to ask you for things?"

She scrunched up her nose, trying to think of a way to refute his point but not coming up with anything. Then she gave an indignant little gasp. "You tell them to!"

He chuckled, accepting her thump on his chest as just punishment. "I may, from time to time, have expressed my thoughts about the best timing of reminders about performance reviews or leave requests."

"Which you will not be doing any more," she said darkly.

"I won't need to. If your exquisite complexion doesn't tip them off, my ineradicable satisfied grin will."

She gave him a shove that nearly sent him sprawling on the floor. He recovered, but got out of bed anyway, feeling both sorry and relieved at having extricated himself from a truly tricky situation. "I'll get breakfast started," he said. "Do you want to help, or try for a quick shower?"

She pouted at him—actually pouted at him, with those lush full lips and big luminous eyes. He nearly succumbed to the urge to slide back into bed and kiss the expression off her face, actually swaying forward before catching himself. "I don't suppose it would do any good to invite you to join me," she sighed in a sultry voice that went straight to his groin.

He swallowed, forcing his voice to remain steady. "I'll take a rain check," he said, then turned to leave the room before she got the better of him. He resolved to stop by a drugstore at the earliest opportunity, because there was no way he was going to be able to continue resisting her indefinitely. Even his self-control had its limits.

mmm

Lisbon clutched at his hand hard as they approached the CBI, then let go to stop at the gate and exchange greetings with the guard on duty. She was doing a little better, he thought, after managing to shower and dress before having to come find him. And she needed the confidence boost, because she was terrified of humiliating herself in the office, despite his promises to stay close.

The warm welcome she received from the team seemed to calm her, he was pleased to note. And he was very glad he had resisted temptation when he noticed how closely Cho was looking at them both. He was sure that if Cho decided he was taking advantage of this situation, he'd need some reconstructive surgery on his much-abused nose.

"We got some bad news, Boss," Cho said after the greetings had been exchanged. "Mancini was found dead this morning in his apartment. Used his weapon to blow his brains out."

Jane wished he'd broken the news a little more gently, but Lisbon only nodded. "Thanks for telling me. I assume there won't be an investigation."

"There should be," Cho said. "Guys like that don't shoot themselves in the face. But it's the FBI's problem, not ours." He glanced at Jane as if daring him to disagree.

Jane couldn't care less about Mancini; as far as he was concerned, he got what he deserved. Better, actually, since it sounded like it had been quick. He took the opportunity to touch Lisbon, though, laying a comforting hand on her shoulder. She let him, but she glanced at him to let him know she didn't need comfort.

"Yes, it is," she agreed. "Since things are quiet around here, I'll just check my email and deal with whatever's landed on my desk while I've been gone." She looked at Jane and said, "You can stay out of trouble for that long, can't you?"

He smiled, answering her unspoken question. "I'll stay right here."

She left the bullpen, and Cho, Rigsby, and Van Pelt closed into a huddle around him. He wished they wouldn't be so obvious, but Lisbon wouldn't be surprised that they wanted to interrogate him.

"She seems better," Rigsby said hopefully.

"She is," Jane said, more because they needed to hear it than because he believed it. "She's too strong to stay under anybody's influence for long." Which was why Red John had been so clever to enlist her buried desires to achieve his ends.

"How long do you think it will take before she's ready to come back?" Grace asked.

"Not long. Though I think she's due for a rest anyway," Jane replied. "How are you all doing? Surviving without us, I take it?"

"Sure," Cho said. "For the time being. Jane, that box beside your couch is your personal stuff. I cleaned out the attic so I could give all the Red John stuff to the FBI. I found the stuff under the floorboards; anything else hidden up there?"

Jane stiffened as a wave of fury crashed over him, then forced his expression into indifference. He'd told Cho to get rid of the case, after all; he couldn't fault him for being thorough. And if he wasn't working the Red John case, he had no reason to shut himself away in his attic. Until Lisbon was able to let him out of her sight for hours at a time, he couldn't even if he wanted to.

They were looking at him like he might spontaneously combust, and he felt that wasn't a complete impossibility himself. He felt violated and frustrated and powerless to do anything about it. His gaze went automatically to Lisbon's office, watching as she bent over her paperwork. She was worth it, he told himself. There was no question. It was just that this was too huge a sacrifice to be graceful about.

"It's all still here," Cho said after a moment. "Bertram won't authorize turning the files over until he's talked to you. He thinks it's a scam, and he doesn't want more trouble with the FBI."

Crap. Bertram probably wanted to talk to Lisbon about turning the case over, too. She wasn't ready for that. But he didn't want any delay; he wasn't sure he wouldn't yield to the temptation to glance at his notes one last time. Dammit, all the work, the time and effort he'd put into those notes, and now they'd lie buried in some FBI storage facility. He knew they wouldn't take his work seriously.

"You did the right thing," he forced himself to say, because Cho had been a good friend to him and to Lisbon and was just trying to help. It wasn't fair to resent him for that.

"No," Cho said, "I'm helping you do the right thing."

Jane looked at him and saw the sympathy there. They were all looking at him like that, in fact. He shook his head. "I have no choice."

"You do," Cho said. "And you made the right one."

Rigsby said, "We know it's tough."

"If you ever need to talk, we're here," Grace added.

"Thanks." He stared at his shoes for a second, a little embarrassed by the show of solidarity. Of course, this was mostly about making sure he did the right thing for Lisbon's sake, but he still appreciated it. "Tell Bertram I'll meet with him when I get back. I'm going out of town for a day or two. I need to put my house on the market."

Grace actually patted him on the shoulder. Cho said, "Good idea. I'll tell him."

Jane glanced at Lisbon's office again. She seemed fine, engrossed in her work. "I'll just go through the box and make sure there's nothing in there that needs to go to the FBI."

Of course there wouldn't be; Cho was too good for that. But he needed a moment to deal with all this, and sitting alone on his couch was the best he could do under the circumstances. He was grateful beyond measure when they went back to their desks and left him to it.

mmm

Lisbon was surprised and pleased when she glanced at the clock on her computer screen and realized she hadn't needed to look for Jane for a good twenty minutes now. She was getting better, and it seemed she could block out her anxiety while she was concentrating on work. At least Red John hadn't managed to ruin her career, she thought in relief.

But where was Jane? He'd been talking to the others last time she'd looked. When she stood up, she saw the familiar blond curls bent over something on his couch. Relief washed over her.

She was done with the urgent and semi-urgent items in her inbox, and it was a long drive to Malibu. She thought she'd buy Jane a nice lunch to thank him for behaving, somewhere outside Sacramento where they could hold hands if they wanted. It was a nice day, and he loved outdoor cafes.

She logged off her computer, straightened her desk a bit, and went out to the bullpen, smiling at her team as they looked up from their work. Then she frowned as she recognized some of the things in the box Jane was staring into so intently. "Is that from upstairs?"

Jane didn't look up, and she didn't like the tension in his shoulders. "Yes," he said.

"You went up to your attic?" Despite her best effort, anger crept into her tone. Dammit, he'd promised her!

"I did it, Boss," Cho said quickly. "Yesterday, after we got back. Jane's just making sure I didn't miss anything."

"You cleaned out his attic?" Lisbon was incredulous, then angry again. That was Jane's space, the closest he came to a place where he felt comfortable. Nobody went up there except the two of them.

Jane finally looked up. His voice was calm, but his smile was patently false. "I asked him to. After all, I don't need it anymore." He put the lid back on the box and stood. "Ready to go?"

Get me out of here, his eyes were saying. She decided she could get to the bottom of this later. "Yes. Guys, call me if anything comes up. And thanks for holding down the fort."

A chorus of good-byes followed them into the hall. There were enough other people in the elevator when they got on that Lisbon could lean against him without being noticed. She needed the contact, although she wasn't sure he wanted it.

When they reached her car, she asked, "Do you want to drive?"

He glanced at her. "Do I seem so sad?"

"Sad? No. Upset? Yes."

"And you think I'm safe to be behind the wheel in my current upset state?" he asked, dryly amused.

"Why can you never let me be nice to you?" she demanded, frustrated.

"I'm a creature of habit, Lisbon. When you try to be nice to me, it disrupts my sense of normalcy."

She rolled her eyes, but she recognized that he needed to vent. If he wanted to do that by being a jackass to her, she could handle it. "I apologize for upsetting your sense of normalcy," she said sarcastically. "And to avoid further upsetting you, I won't ask you where you'd like to have lunch. I'll just pick someplace that looks good to me. Oh, and I won't offer to pick up the tab, either. Or talk to you on the drive."

"I thank you from the bottom of my heart," he replied, apparently in earnest. But once they had driven through the gate and were safe from prying eyes, he took her hand in his, sparing her from having to reach for him.

She resolved to make sure he got some pie after lunch.