It was late, well after midnight. Both Jane and Lisbon were used to functioning on next to no sleep but neither had been to bed for over 48 hours and the events of the past couple of days had been exhausting. The combined effects of the sleep deprivation, wine from dinner, the two miniature bottles of champagne and a handful of mini spirits bottles between them were taking their toll. So of course Jane decided it was the perfect time to teach Teresa how to juggle. Standing up quickly, he held two empty mini bottles of vodka in one hand and an empty mini bottle of scotch in the other. In his haste to show off, he had put his weight on his twisted ankle without thinking and yowled before plonking himself back down on the couch next to Lisbon. Jane dropped the bottles on the floor and rubbed his ankle petulantly.
Far from sympathetic, she offered him an amused, "Do you need me to kiss it better?", rolling her eyes at her own lack of originality and hiding a smirk.
Jane scowled. "Listen, woman. This is serious. Serious business. Now nobody will ever teach you to juggle. The world is suddenly a less entertaining place. Plus, I'm battlescarred, maybe for life. I might never walk again."
"It's good you're not indulging in hyperbole."
"A nicer girlfriend would offer to ice my wounds."
Lisbon sipped from a mini bottle of gin, pretended she didn't hear, amused at his antics. His use of the word 'girlfriend' warmed her though, and her heart sped up. Patrick noted her sudden intake of breath.
"I'm in pain here, Lisbon!" he announced melodramatically.
"And whose fault is that?"
"Yours!" He gestured in her general direction with one hand, drawing circles in the air with his fingertips, continuing to rub his ankle with the other.
"How do you figure?!", Teresa was close to giggling; Jane's cross expression intermixed with champagne definitely brought out her giggly side.
He spoke to her slowly, like she was a child. "If you weren't on the plane, I wouldn't have had to hop the fence. You should be praising my masculinity right about now."
"Masculine men don't juggle." She was definitely giggling now.
"Mmm. You're wrong, so so wrong, and I can prove you wrong."
Jane leaned toward her, amused, his eyes flitting between her gaze and her lips. Lisbon surprised him though, making a move before he could. Forgetting her mini gin bottle, she wrapped an arm around his neck pulled him towards her, pressing her lips to his, kissing him carefully, gently. Patrick was delighted, running his fingers over her cheek, her forehead, fondling her hair between his fingers.
"Teresa", he panted between kisses, "You made me wet."
"Not exactly what I was going for...", she pulled back to gaze at his amused expression, graced him with a confused one.
"Did you intentionally dump gin all over my lap?" he accused, gesturing to his damp trousers.
Lisbon glanced at his lap before her hand flew to her mouth, laughter bubbling over. "You are not allowed to use this as a suave excuse to take off your pants." She made her way to the bathroom, grabbing a towel and returning to hand it to him before excusing herself back to the bathroom.
"For one thing,", Jane called to her retreating form, attempting to soak up the spilled alcohol, "If I did want to take off my pants, I wouldn't need an excuse, suave or otherwise, to do it, and for another thing-", his voice trailed off as he realised Teresa was long gone and wasn't listening. "Never mind then."
Jane was dying for a cup of tea, it'd been hours since his last one back at the restaurant, but, he had noted earlier, the hotel inexplicably only provided complimentary coffee in the room. Calling down for room service was an option, but the phone wasn't in reaching distance and his ankle was genuinely sore. He figured the alcohol was numbing most of the pain. Plus the endorphins. So many endorphins. He couldn't remember the last time he was this happy. Pulling off his weary leather shoes and stretching out his sore ankle, he winced before lying down on the couch, closing his eyes, unable to wipe a grin off his face.
Lisbon emerged from the bathroom several minutes later only to discover Jane was gone. The back of the couch faced where she was standing and his blonde curls were no longer visible over the top of it. She thought perhaps he'd gone into the bedroom but as she made her way over to the back of the couch and peered over, she took in the sight of a sleeping Jane stretched across the entire length of the sofa, one hand dragging on the carpet, his ankles crossed. He looked at peace and happy. Younger. Lisbon reached down to stroke the unruly curls on his forehead. She'd wanted to do that for years. Suddenly, Jane's hand shot out and intercepted hers an inch before it made contact with him. She gasped. He smirked, eyes still closed, and she rolled her eyes.
"Jane!", she scolded.
"Teresa Lisbon. I do." His eyes remained closed.
She peered at him, puzzled. "I dig you, Jane. But... you do realise we're not exchanging vows right now, right?"
"Heh.", he opened his eyes at that, focusing his green-blue gaze on her ocean green one. "You 'dig' me." Amused.
"Whatever. Shut up."
Jane sat up, kissed the fingers of the hand he caught. "I'm not marrying you tonight, though we'll return to that topic at a later date. Put a pin in it for now. No. It's not that. I do. Need you to kiss it better."