Lisbon snatched her hand back and scoffed. "There is no way I am kissing your-", she paused, her eyes growing wide. "Was that supposed to be a double entendre?"
Jane squinted at her, giddy. "I don't know what you're talking about. You're the one who offered."
"How drunk are you, exactly?"
He tried to usher her back around the couch, reaching up to put a hand on her hip, pushing gently. Lisbon wasn't budging. He pouted. "Too drunk to legally drive, not drunk enough to appreciate the artistic genius that is the Spice Girls. How drunk are you?"
"Enough to know I need to go to bed."
"Eh. Fine." Jane flopped back down into a prone position and closed his eyes.
Teresa picked up the scattered alcohol bottles and disposed them in a waste receptacle before grabbing her suitcase and heading towards what she assumed was the bedroom.
"Hey", Jane mumbled to the ceiling, not entirely sure Teresa could still hear him. "You make life worth living. I probably should have told you that sooner."
She heard him but didn't know how to respond so she continued into the bedroom where she quickly changed into a dark purple nightgown. It was silky and pretty, almost down to her knees, sleeveless and a little bit clingier than she would ordinarily wear to bed while working a case. She couldn't say why she had forgone her usual no-nonsense bedroom attire, but she certainly hadn't intended anybody to see her in it when she packed for Miami, and she wasn't sure she was ready for Jane to see her in it.
Except, she was on the right side of inebriated for her defenses to be lowered, and she couldn't actually let him sleep on the couch, no matter how obnoxious he was. So, instead of pulling back the covers and climbing in, she opened the door, toothbrush in hand. Entering the bathroom to quickly brush her teeth and wash her face, she exited and stood hovering behind the couch, a bit uncertain.
"Jane?" she stage whispered.
"Mmm?" he responded, not moving.
"Come to bed."
Jane sat up then, groggy, and rubbed at his face. "Teresa, I can't-"
"No funny business."
He grinned at that, shyly looking at the carpet. "Nothing I would ever do to you in the bedroom would be described as 'funny', let the record show. Mindblowing, maybe. Life changing, definitely."
Teresa wanted to mock-scowl at him but he sounded so happy, pleased with his own flirty sense of humour. She laughed instead. "Having fun, are you?"
"You have no idea how much. I was going to tell you that I can't really walk at the moment." He glanced behind him. "Care to help me in the general direction of the bathroom?"
As she stepped towards him, he took in her current state of dress.
"Woah." He stared at her, eyes as round as saucers, drinking her in. The nightgown accentuated her curves, clung to her in all of the right places.
Hand on her hip, she chewed her bottom lip. "It was, uh, it was all I brought with me to sleep in."
"This is- no, this is very, very good. I'm not complaining."
Flattered, she flushed a little and then held out her hand to help him up. He wrapped an arm around her shoulder and she helped him limp towards the bathroom.
"You can manage from here on out, right?" she asked, mostly joking.
"Ever since I was four."
He closed the bathroom door and she made her way back to the bedroom, turning on her bedside lamp before flicking off the main light. She slid under the blankets on the right hand side of the bed. It was large, kingsize, heavy, wooden, ornate. It matched the almost gothic thick velvety drapes that covered the windows. Not very Miami-esque, but a nice ambiance to fall asleep to all the same. She curled onto her side and closed her eyes.
Appearing in the doorway then, Jane hesitated. She looked small and snuggly and he was suddenly aware, really aware, that he was about to share a bed with Teresa. He could tell by her breathing she wasn't asleep. She was waiting. For him.
Jane hobbled to the other side of the bed and gingerly laid himself down on top of the plush bedspread, careful not jostle Lisbon. He was unsure how this was supposed to work, how to sleep with somebody. Well, not just somebody. She wasn't just somebody. It was exciting, and a frisson of adrenaline, happiness mixed with fear, gripped him and he forgot how to breathe, just for a second. Eyes closed, fingers interlocked across his chest, he lay as still and quietly as possible.
"You're really going to sleep like that?" she asked him.
Without opening his eyes he could tell she'd rolled over and was facing him. "Like what?"
"Fully clothed on top of the covers?"
"Why, Lisbon, are you hitting on me? I'm flattered, don't get me wrong, but my goal here is to sleep and I don't need you taking advantage of me."
Groaning, Teresa punched him gently in the shoulder.
"Will it make you happy if I take off my socks? I haven't showered today, if that's your thing."
Teresa rolled away from him, more asleep than awake by this point, certainly not alert enough to indulge him in banter, much as she enjoyed it. "Jane, nothing would make me happier. You wear those socks too often. It's creepy."
He opened his eyes at that, glanced over at the back of her head. "Creepy? You gave them to me. Surely you mean romantic?"
"It's scientifically impossible for socks to be romantic."
"You bought them; tell yourself that!" he asserted, pulling off his socks and hopping off the bed to lift the bedspread and climb under. There were several layers of sheets and blankets separating them. Jane reached over to stroke her hair, kiss her ear. Teresa didn't respond, having drifted off to sleep.
"I love you", he told her unconscious form. It was for his own benefit. He liked to hear the words, he wanted to say the words. He wanted to say them to her, over and over, forever, and would if he didn't think she'd find it insincere or annoying. "I'm going to do my best to make you happy."
Lying back against the pillows, he grinned at the ceiling and fell into a cheerful, dreamless slumber.