Author's Note: Sorry for the delay in this chapter! I always know I've taken too long when I get reviews asking for an update already. I'll try to write faster, but no promises—we're gearing up for a big meeting at work, and I'll be out of town at the end of the month. I don't think I'll be finished by then, but I'll do my very best to leave it in a non-annoying place. If it's any consolation, ideas always come to me at the worst possible moment, so the busier I get, the more ideas for scenes I get. Maybe I'll just give up sleeping. It works for Jane, right? :)

Chapter 19

Over the next two and a half weeks, Jane managed to act normally most of the time, though Lisbon, watching closely, noticed more of an edge than usual in his interactions with others. He had bad nights whenever anything to do with the house sale demanded his attention, and Lisbon was relieved when Denton arranged things so that Jane wouldn't have to go back to Malibu for the closing.

That momentous event was still two days away when she greeted the appearance of her period with a relief she hadn't felt since college. Not coincidentally, she'd gone on the pill right after that scare. This time, she resolved to go back to taking it regularly no matter what her subconscious thought about it. Jane was probably one crisis away from a serious mental breakdown, and she was relieved that impending fatherhood wasn't going to be it.

Jane was downstairs cooking breakfast, as he did on all but his very worst days, so she dug her next pack of pills out of her medicine cabinet and took them with her to the kitchen, setting them on the counter next to the sink. "I want you to make sure I take these," she said. "I know I won't be tempted to skip if you're watching."

He looked at her for a moment before turning his attention back to the skillet, where a fragrant omelet was cooking. "I was always watching. But I will be happy to help, even knowing you will react badly if I confront you."

Lisbon made a face, but she couldn't argue. It was never easy for her to give up a piece of her privacy. Suddenly finding herself in a serious relationship was taking some adjusting. In a way, Jane's forays into self-loathing and depression made things easier: that was familiar ground, though she wasn't used to having it in her living room on a nightly basis. It helped distract her from the fact that he had rearranged her kitchen cupboards and taken over the grocery shopping, which meant that her guilty pleasures were in short supply. In return, she had started doing his laundry, but since she drew the line at ironing his shirts, he usually ended up taking them to the dry cleaners anyway. Despite Red John's twisted set up, they were not and never would be a fairy tale couple.

And Jane seriously needed a hobby. He had hours to fill that he'd previously devoted to thinking about Red John, and even he could only read for so long. And if Lisbon had to watch one more show about cheetahs, she was going to start thinking about where to hide her kill.

She'd urged him to begin looking for a house once, remembering his bitter declaration of intending to fade into suburban obscurity, but he'd snapped at her that he had no intention of keeping Red John's money. A few days later she'd asked if he wanted help researching charities to donate to, and he'd said nothing. That had been a bad day.

She loved him, but she didn't know how much more brooding she could take in her immediate vicinity. Even at the office, he no longer had his attic setup, and he didn't like to be in the bullpen, claiming he could feel the waves of pity coming off the others. So he tended to camp out in her office. At least she knew where he was, but she was getting to the point where she really wanted to miss him a little.

He hadn't come to bed at all one night, probably pacing her apartment or occupying her couch, so she knew she no longer needed him to get to sleep. But every time she was tempted to suggest he go back to his motel, she found she couldn't, afraid he'd take it as a rejection. And even though he rarely let her comfort him overtly, she didn't want to take away whatever comfort he got from being near her. Or from having sex with her, though that was regrettably no longer a nightly event.

She hoped he wasn't going into an all-out depression, because the chances of getting him to see a doctor about it were nil. All she could do was try to keep him busy and make sure he knew he was loved, even if sometimes that was the last thing he wanted.

"What are you thinking so seriously about?" Jane asked, handing her a plate with a spinach and mushroom omelet.

"You," she replied, setting the plate down so she could pour another cup of coffee.

"Hm. That's not the smile I usually associate with you thinking of me," he teased.

It looked like this was going to be a good day, she thought hopefully. They settled at the table, and she took a bite of her omelet. "Mm. This is perfect."

"You need the protein and iron," he said. "You're pale. That was how I first learned to spot when you started your period."

She didn't ask how long he'd been keeping track; he'd probably been doing it since the first month they'd met. "It saves so much time not having to tell you things," she remarked. Like the fact that she wouldn't feel like having sex for the next few days.

"Yes, I imagine so," Jane agreed.

His tone seemed normal, but there was something in his expression that made her wonder if she was missing some subtext. "Are you trying to tell me that you wish you didn't have to tell me things?"

He grinned a little, then took a sip of his tea. "No. Believe me, most of the time you don't want to know what's in my head."

"And the rest of the time?" She was genuinely curious.

This time he gave her a full-blown smile. "The rest of the time, you're very good at knowing what I want."

"You're in a good mood this morning," she said. Especially given that he'd been gone when she woke up briefly around 2 a.m.

"It was a beautiful sunrise. Made all the more beautiful by my getting to watch it light up your face while you slept."

"Oh, so that's why my curtains were open when I woke up." She wasn't sure how she felt about him watching her sleep, but if it made him happier, she would learn to live with it.

"Mm hm." He finished his tea and stood. "I need to pick up some things on my way to the office, so I'll see you there."

He bent to give her a peck on the cheek, and she drew a breath, summoning her courage. "Do you want to check out and just bring everything here?"

"Why Agent Lisbon, are you asking me to move in with you? Officially?"

She felt a flash of annoyance at his teasing tone, then realized the look in his eyes wasn't amusement. It looked like—nervousness? She wasn't sure she'd ever seen that look before. "Agent Lisbon would never ask her consultant to officially move in," she replied. "Particularly if they'd only been dating for a month. If you can call it dating. But luckily for you, Agent Lisbon hasn't reported for duty yet, and Teresa is having a moment of weakness."

He smiled again, making her wonder when exactly she was going to build up some immunity to it. Surely her stomach would stop fluttering at some point, though it had already been years. Maybe at the decade mark? Or twenty years?

"Have I ever mentioned how much I love your moments of weakness, Teresa?" Then he sobered. "Are you sure? I know I can be a lot to take, and I thought you'd about had enough."

"It's silly for you to pay for a room you aren't using, except as storage." She shrugged, trying to seem casual. "You can always get another one if you decide not to stay."

He sat back down again. "I expected you to throw me out once you realized you didn't have to have me around anymore."

"You think I was just using you?" she said, appalled.

"No," he assured her. "Not at all. But I thought you'd want to prove you could stand on your own two feet as soon as possible, reclaim your territory. I know it drives you crazy that I moved the plates closer to the dishwasher and the glasses over the sink. Even though you know it makes more sense that way."

"What really drives me crazy is that you didn't ask first," she retorted.

"And you think you're ready to have me rearranging your closet and medicine cabinet to make room for my stuff?" He looked skeptical. "No, you don't. You think—ah. You think I am the one who shouldn't be alone. You're worried if you tell me to leave you alone for a while, I'll sink into a deep depression, thinking you don't love me."

"No," she said.

"Yes. Yes, this is Saint Teresa in action. I'm driving you crazy, but you're too busy taking care of me to admit it." He sat back in his chair with an air of satisfaction at having figured her out.

"I haven't lived with anybody in a long time, so it's going to take some getting used to. But you hold up your end of the household chores, not to mention helping me get to sleep. I think I can handle it." Because she really did like having him around, she assured herself. Most of the time.

"I'll tell you what," he said slowly. "I would like to move the rest of my stuff here. It'll be more convenient, and I think it's what he expects us to do. But you need to promise me that if you need a night to yourself, you won't be afraid to tell me. I'm a big boy; I can take it. I can sleep on my couch at the office or get a room for the night."

"Not at the office. It'll make the gossip worse," she said. "But otherwise, okay."

"What gossip?" His eyes lit with amusement.

Lisbon rolled hers. "Don't pretend you don't know. I overheard two idiots in the ladies' room yesterday discussing the fact that I must be pregnant because I've gained so much weight."

"You have not!" Jane exclaimed, offended. "You've been eating healthier, that's all. They're seeing things."

"My point was," she continued, "I'd like to keep the talk about us to a minimum."

"I will do my best," he promised.

She took a long sip of coffee. "And while we're having a serious talk, I'm interested in what you think he's going to want from us next. Besides admitting to ourselves that we're living together."

His automatic glance at her was annoying, but she met it with calm determination. She wanted to prove to him that she was her old self and that he could tell her his thoughts about anything. She needed assurance that he wasn't going to keep things from her because he thought she couldn't handle it.

She continued, "Do you think this was just about getting us off the case, or is he trying to turn us into his own personal reality show?"

"His primary aim was to get us off his trail," Jane said slowly. "Whether because I was close to a clue or because he was serious about retiring, I don't know. I hope it's the latter, frankly."

"So do I," Lisbon said fervently. One of her nightmares was what would happen if Red John killed again.

"But he may have discovered he likes pulling our strings," Jane continued. "Lorelei told me he sees me as an old friend of sorts. Maybe in his twisted way he wants to see me happy before he says good-bye."

"And what would it take to make you happy?" she asked.

Jane frowned at the tabletop for a moment. "Besides you? That's a good question. But it can't be all about making me happy, because selling him my house is definitely making me unhappy."

"Maybe he's just trying to make sure you made the right choice," Lisbon said. "I can't make you happy if I'm not really what you want."

"You are really what I want," he assured her.

"But not all you want. That's okay, Jane," she hurried to add. "We don't get everything we want in life. But...I've been thinking. He underestimated me, you said. He probably thought I would give in to those worst impulses he brought out in me, that I'd be desperate to keep you with me."

A corner of Jane's mouth lifted. "Says the woman who just invited me to move in with her."

"I won't collapse in despair if you don't, though. And I won't try to get pregnant to tie you down, or any of the other things I won't admit to thinking. Whatever else has happened, I am still your friend, and I want what's best for you. And letting him—Red John—go isn't." She gritted her teeth against the headache; that was one thing she hadn't been able to overcome with sheer willpower.

Jane got up from his chair. "I'm not having this discussion again, Lisbon."

"But you said I was in danger only from what he put in my head. If I've overcome that, then there's nothing to stop—"

"I never said 'only,'" Jane snapped. "Yes, I think you've overcome everything we know he put in your head. But the deal still stands. If he decides I've broken it, there's nothing to stop him sneaking in here one night and killing you. From killing us both, because I've told you before, I can't survive losing you. So please stop talking—and thinking—this way. I'm doing what I have to do, not just for you, but for me. Let me do it."

He strode to the door and left, closing it firmly behind him. Lisbon finished her omelet in silence, thinking hard.

mmm

Jane wasn't the only one surprised when Lisbon announced she had a management meeting that afternoon and that Cho should take him to interview their latest victim's family. Since it was more than a two-hour drive each way, that meant a very long day, or even a night away. Still, he'd promised he would understand if she wanted some time alone, so he acquiesced without argument.

Once Lisbon left for her meeting, though, Cho looked around, frowning. "I have something to do here," he said. He looked at Rigsby, then at Grace. "Van Pelt, can you take this one?"

"Sure," Grace said, always eager to get into the field.

Rigsby looked sulky. "More rapid response team stuff with Agent Wade?"

Cho ignored him. "Thanks, Van Pelt. I'll square it with Lisbon when she gets back. Let me know if you find anything."

Jane realized he was out of tune with the rest of the team, since he hadn't been spending much time in the bullpen lately. He was vaguely surprised to realize he missed them a little. "So," he said, once he and Grace were in the car, "catch me up on all the gossip. I take it Rigsby's put out over Cho's extracurricular activities?"

Grace smiled. "Poor Wayne. He's like a high school kid whose best friend made the football team and he didn't. He'll get over it though."

"He should be glad. Cho's ready for his own team, and everyone knows it. But the rapid response assignment will keep him from getting restless," Jane pointed out.

"You should tell him that," Grace said. "He'll put more stock in it if it comes from you."

Jane pondered Cho for a moment. He was glad the man was so loyal to Lisbon; otherwise Jane would have to find a way to scotch any possibility of his advancement for the time being. Until Red John left them alone, they both needed Cho where he was.

Grace continued, "The biggest rumor is that the boss is pregnant. We keep telling everyone it isn't true, but you know how people are."

"I do know how people are. And they know how we are. It's no secret we'd all lie to protect Lisbon," Jane pointed out, amused.

"If we thought she was pregnant, we'd keep her out of the field," Grace said indignantly. "That's how we know she isn't—you'd have found some way to keep her out of that standoff last week if you were worried about a baby."

"You're quite right, Grace." He'd been scrutinizing Lisbon on and off, looking for signs of pregnancy when he wasn't wallowing in self-pity. He'd seen none, so he wasn't surprised when her period started. What did surprise him was that his relief didn't keep a little voice from whispering in the back of his mind about how clever, headstrong, and beautiful their child would have been.

"You're not the only one who can figure things out," Grace grinned. Then she sobered. "Everything okay with you two?"

"We're figuring it out," Jane replied. He knew she had only the best intentions, so he didn't resent her asking, but he had no intention of discussing his relationship with Lisbon.

"I won't pry," she promised. "I've just been worried about her. About both of you, but I know you won't tell me about what's going on with you. She seems better—is she really?"

"Yes."

"Whatever he did to her, it's gone?" Grace persisted.

"I think so."

"How?"

Jane smiled. "Sheer Lisbon stubbornness. He hasn't been watching her as closely as he thought. Or else he didn't understand what he saw. Lisbon isn't like the people he's used to dealing with, banal and self-absorbed, ruled by emotion. She decided what she needed to do and she did it, even if she had to fight herself all the way. Most people avoid uncomfortable truths about themselves, but she refused to tell herself a pretty story about what was happening."

Grace was smiling too, probably amused by the pride in his voice. "I wish I was more like her."

"We all have to be ourselves, Grace. The best we can do is not lie to ourselves about what that self is." It was something that had flitted across his mind lately: was his vision of himself distorted? Because he wanted to be the man he saw reflected in Lisbon's eyes, but he wasn't sure he believed in him.

The silence that followed wasn't a comfortable one; he'd stirred something up in Grace's mind, he realized after a moment. He waited for her to speak in her own time.

"I am someone who doesn't want Red John to get away with his crimes," she said quietly. "Especially what he did to the boss. Because maybe the killing is part of a sickness, but doing that to her was just plain evil. And then buying your house—that's just, that's personal. All you did was talk about him on TV. You didn't deserve what he did in return, and certainly not everything he's done since. I want him to pay for it. All of it. I don't know what would be enough, though."

"Nothing," Jane said. ''Nothing could ever be enough. I used to think I just needed to cut him up and watch him bleed to death."

Grace muttered, "I want to shoot him in the balls, myself."

"In the highly unlikely event we ever meet him, I'll let you go first, then," Jane said gallantly. Although it occurred to him that if he got that much blood on his hands, Lisbon might object to being touched by them. Vengeance she might forgive—she'd certainly come around to his side quickly after he shot Timothy Carter—but cruelty she might not.

But it was all moot. He'd given up any chance of ever avenging his family to save her life, because he was too weak to go on without her. He couldn't even hate himself for that, because Lisbon was worth any sacrifice he had left to make. She had certainly sacrificed for him. He had a lot to make up for in how he'd lived his life, and he couldn't think of a better way to do that than making sure the world still had Teresa Lisbon in it.

mmm

He and Grace spent an excruciating afternoon and evening talking to the victim's family members, who were variously weeping or angry. Those conversations led them to call on several other people who were in contact with the victim, which eventually led to an ex-boyfriend who had recently friended her online and was cyberstalking. By the time they tracked him down at a bar and finished talking to him, it was late. Since Jane suspected he'd been sent on these tedious interviews to get him out of Lisbon's hair, he didn't object when Grace tentatively suggested they drive back in the morning.

Once in his lonely, nondescript hotel room, he wasn't surprised he couldn't sleep. Apparently he'd grown used to having company at night, and the bed felt cold and uninviting. Lisbon didn't answer her phone when he gave in and called, but that might just mean she was busy. She'd call him back when she could, no matter how late.

An hour later, he was still telling himself that. It occurred to him that it was Thursday, but surely she hadn't gone back to playing poker with all those people who had watched her flirt with Mancini? She'd hate their pity.

Well, she'd told him to talk to Cho if he couldn't talk to her. She could hardly complain if he actually did it.

But Cho didn't answer his phone either.

Jane paced for a few minutes, tried both numbers again, and then went to knock on Grace's door. "Grace, it's me," he called.

Grace finally opened the door, having hastily thrown on a sweatsuit, he judged. She frowned at him in concern. "What's wrong?"

That's right, she wasn't used to being rousted out of her bed by him in the middle of the night. That was Lisbon's job. "Lisbon and Cho aren't answering their phones."

"And you think they're in trouble?" Grace turned to grab her phone, leaving the door open for Jane to follow. She dialed quickly, smiling in relief when her call was answered. "Rigsby, do you know where Lisbon is? She's not answering her phone, and Jane's worried."

Jane frowned in annoyance. Really, there was no call to make him sound like an anxious boyfriend.

"Oh, okay. Hey, where's Cho?" Grace continued. "Really? That's great. Yeah. See you in the morning. Give Ben a kiss for me." She hung up, then smiled reassuringly at Jane. "Lisbon's fine. She's playing poker. And Cho has a hot date."

"Must be hot indeed to turn off his phone," Jane grumbled.

"They're fine. Go to bed," Grace said.

The kindness in her tone set his teeth on edge; she sounded like she was indulging a frightened child. He gave a put-upon sigh and headed for the door. "Sorry I bothered you," he said, not quite succeeding in keeping the sulkiness out of his tone.

"It's okay," she replied.

He paused in the doorway, trying to put his finger on what was bothering him. Grace gave a sigh and looked at him suspiciously, then said, "You want to go back tonight."

"I'm not going to sleep anyway. I can drive, and you can sleep," he offered.

"She's not going to like it," Grace warned.

"My problem, not yours." He pulled out his best smile. "Come on. We can be home by one a.m. Wouldn't you rather sleep in your own bed?"

She gave him a look that said she wasn't fooled. "I was doing fine," she said. "But okay. It's sweet that you can't bear to be away from her even for a night. Needy, but sweet."

He grinned at her, refusing to be baited. "Keys?"

"When I'm packed. I don't want to get stuck here because you got impatient. Now shoo and let me get dressed."

Jane went back to his room. He had never undressed or unpacked, so he didn't have much to do. Fortunately, Grace was a fast packer, and in no time they had checked out, packed up, and gotten on the road.

They were halfway to Sacramento when Jane's phone rang. Grace took it out of his hand and answered it, ignoring his protest. "Hi, Boss. Yeah. Jane's driving. We're about an hour out."

"Ask her if she's won enough money yet to take me away from all this," Jane prompted loudly.

Grace couldn't help a chuckle at whatever Lisbon said in response. "Yeah, the ex-boyfriend looked good, but he had an alibi. No, not that he's told me. Hang on." She pulled the phone away from her face a bit and said, "Boss wants to know if you've solved the case yet."

"I'm pulling over," Jane said, finding this secondhand conversation deeply unsatisfying. When the car was safely stopped, Grace handed over his phone, smirking at him.

"Lisbon," he said heartily. "So, how was the game? You won, I presume?"

"Jane, why did you get Grace out of bed in the middle of the night to drive back here?" she demanded.

"Who says I did?"

"Because it's late, and she let you drive," Lisbon replied. "If you say you were worried about me, I'm going to kick your ass."

"Hardly, Lisbon. I just can't go to sleep anymore without one of your sweet lullabies." He made his tone as suggestive as possible and was rewarded by Grace covering her mouth and looking out the window, trying to stifle a laugh.

"Jane." Lisbon was not at all amused. "I'm not in the mood for your nonsense."

Hm. Maybe she really had been trying to get rid of him. "Is that your way of saying you don't want to see me until morning?"

She sighed. "If you wake me up when you get in, you better be prepared to make it up to me."

"Lisbon, you saucy minx, you're making me blush in front of Grace," he reproved. "Let's leave the demands for sex for when we're alone, shall we?"

"Jane!" she hissed. "Goddamn it. You know what, find somewhere else to sleep. And apologize to Van Pelt for your inappropriate behavior while you're at it."

Jane looked over at Grace, who was still looking out the window. He could see her expression in the reflection, though. She was both amused and appalled, so he said, "Grace, I apologize for making you uncomfortable. Lisbon was not demanding sex, as I'm sure you've guessed."

She managed a straight face as she looked at him. "Apology accepted. If you're done being a jerk, can we go? We have to be at work in the morning. Later this morning, I mean. And some of us aren't allowed to nap on the job."

"There," Jane said into the phone. "Am I forgiven?"

Lisbon sighed. "Ask me again after breakfast."

"Just leave your order on the notepad by the fridge," he smiled. "Sweet dreams, Teresa."

After he hung up and started driving again, Grace said, "You're terrible. You know that, right?"

"You are not the first person to point that out," Jane replied. He decided not to insult her intelligence by telling her that he would never tease Lisbon like that except in the presence of someone they could both trust.

Grace leaned her head back and closed her eyes, apparently trying to fall asleep. After a few miles, she said, "Do us all a favor and send her into the office in a good mood, okay?"

Jane grinned. "I'll do my best."

mmm

Lisbon was tired, but she couldn't manage more than a light doze, waking at every little noise. It had been years since she'd stayed awake waiting for someone, and she was a little annoyed that she was doing it now. Part of the point of tonight had been to test herself, to make sure she really was capable of being alone. But as usual, Jane wasn't cooperating with her agenda.

It was a little after one a.m. when she heard the front door open, immediately followed by the sound of keys hitting the little table by the door. Jane was familiar enough with her apartment by now that he didn't need to turn on any lights to make his way up the stairs, and she rolled over on her stomach so she could see the door as he came in.

"It's me," he said unnecessarily.

"Figured," she yawned.

"Go back to sleep." She could hear the smile in his voice as he shed his jacket and headed for the bathroom. A few minutes later he returned, bending to pull her hair away from her neck so he could press a kiss there before sliding into bed. She hummed a little in acknowledgement and relaxed, hoping she could finally get to sleep now.

She was surprised when he moved closer and slid an arm around her waist, sliding over until they were flush against each other. He'd become gradually less snuggly over the past weeks, and she wondered if he was expressing affection or seeking comfort. Or maybe both.

"Did something happen?" she murmured. He didn't drive back here in the middle of the night on a whim, she suspected.

"I just missed you," he replied.

She smiled. "I missed you too." And it was true; she hadn't enjoyed having the bed to herself nearly as much as she'd thought she would. And the apartment seemed too quiet without him now. Maybe she was adapting to him living here after all. She gave him a gentle kiss, opening her lips to him at the first tentative touch of his tongue.

"Mm, whisky," he said when they parted. "How much did you have to drink tonight?"

"Just enough to convince Bertram I'm not pregnant," she replied.

He huffed out a short laugh. "I guess that rumor served its purpose. How was the game?"

"I won some and lost some. All anybody wanted to talk about was Mancini. I'm glad that's other with," she sighed. "Did you find anything useful?"

"I want to sleep on it," he said. "And it turns out I don't seem to be able to do that except here."

"Then here is where you belong," she said.

He was silent for a long time, and when he spoke again his voice was hoarse with suppressed emotion. "I'd forgotten what that felt like, to have a place I belong."

She rolled to her side and put her arms around him, and he tucked his face into the crook of her neck and planted a kiss there. Minutes later they were both sound asleep.