A/N: Thanks again to all the new followers this story has received lately even if I haven't updated it recently as I've been busy with a heavy plotline in Missing as it enters its final few chapters and writing my more fluffy two shot instead. I really do appreciate your wonderful support. This chapter is dedicated to Brooklyn79, who (kind of) guilt tripped me into providing an update on this one since it's her birthday today. Many happy returns, my dear! And for those waiting on a Destinies update, it is my next priority.

Chapter 13 - Moving Forward

Jane entered Lisbon's office the following morning, his eyes immediately drawn to the yellow roses that adorned it. He was comforted she wasn't present to witness the thunderous look on his face that accompanied the sighting. He shook his head briefly, berating himself for allowing his jealousy to infiltrate into his facial expressions. It didn't take a mentalist to know where those had come from. He saw her approach her office with a mug of coffee in her hand and he turned his head away from them and to her as she came in the door, making his expression appear relaxed. He watched her body language, still tense, her lips pursed in a tight line. A wave of relief involuntarily washed over him that she hadn't slept with Mashburn. Again. Or at least not yet. The billionaire was obviously in pursuit of her once more though, that much was certain. He watched her look briefly at the flowers behind him before licking her lips and casting her gaze to the top of her desk as she sat behind it.

"Morning Jane, what can I do for you?" she asked, averting her eyes and pulling a piece of paper in front of her. She was doing her best to act professional but her posture was screaming out that she was putting on an act to that affect.

"I've went through the background checks Van Pelt's ran already. I'm ready to start interviewing. Those with any history of physical violence go to the top of the list."

"Sounds good, get them to come in and we'll make a start."

"I'd rather go visit some of the more likely candidates in their home environments."

She nodded, "Okay, makes it easier for you to get a read off them, I understand," she replied. "Give me ten minutes and I'll-"

He interrupted before she finished her sentence. "I thought I might take Cho. Or Rigsby. Whoever's got more time on their hands. I'm sure you have more pressing matters here than be stuck in a car most of the day. Most likely they'll be wild goose chases. Hardly likely to strike lucky right out of the gate, am I?"

He knew the words would wound her but he wasn't ready to spend a day alone with her yet. Frankly, he was surprised she didn't feel the same after how he'd treated her since he'd come back. But she was never one to shirk away from her problems once things were out in the open, although sometimes it took a little effort to get to that stage. After that she much preferred dealing with them face on and resolving them.

But their truce was just too tentative for a day cooped up together not to end in a screaming match. Or, if he was being entirely truthful with himself, the opposite of that. That outcome frightened him much more than Lisbon's fist in his face. Passion and anger sat beside each other a little too closely on the colour palette of emotions and he couldn't take the chance of one running into the other.

She nodded, trying to hide the hurt she felt at him wanting to go with anyone else but her. He used to practically drag her out of the office to spend the day investigating with him. "Yeah, that's fine," she said softly, turning her eyes to her screen. "I'll keep Van Pelt on the background checks while you're gone. Let me know if you come up with anything."

"Will do. Appreciate it," he replied casually.

He chanced a glance at the flowers again that she noticed out of the corner of her eye. He waited for her to mention her meeting with Mashburn that had evidently brought about the gesture but she was evidently going to make him be the one to inquire.

His tone a little sharp that he had to bring up the question he asked, "So did Walter give you any insights into Janet's murder or did you two not get around to it?" As soon as the words left his mouth he realised it wasn't just the fact he had to ask the question that made his tone abrupt. He inwardly rolled his eyes at his emotions getting away on him where she was concerned once again.

She turned her head towards him, raising an eyebrow. "Of course we talked about it," she replied, annoyance in her tone.

He shrugged, aiming for nonchalance, "Oh, just you didn't look like you were going to mention it so I thought perhaps you both got distracted instead."

She almost laughed out loud at his clumsy attempt to ask her if they'd slept together. "What are you insinuating?"

Innocently he replied, "Nothing at all. None of my business-"

"You're goddamned right it isn't," she shot back with immediately.

Remaining calm he asked, "So? Did he have anything useful to say in relation to Janet's murder?"

More than you know, she thought to herself. "He said that her staff may have had motive. Sounds like she wasn't exactly a popular employer."

He nodded slowly. "Well not everyone has staff as loyal as yours, Lisbon."

She rolled her eyes as his attempt to get on her nerves again. "So, you met them I'm assuming. Think he might be right?"

"No," he replied at once.

"Well I'm going to look into the possibility anyway," she answered, slightly pouting.

He couldn't stop a small smile at her highly predictable response. "Why don't you do that while I'm off finding the real killer?"

She detected a note of humour in his tone as his words slipped out easily without thinking. His arrogant statement sounded more like the real him than she had experienced since his return. "I will, thanks," she replied, a glimmer of a smile on her lips.

Lisbon opened the door to her apartment, a smile gracing her lips as she saw Jane sleeping soundly on her couch, the TV tuned to a wildlife show. She closed the door quietly, picking up his empty cup that lay on the table and depositing it in the sink. Quietly she began to make dinner for them, surprised to find herself humming as she did so. She rolled her eyes, relieved he wasn't awake to tease her about enjoying such a mundane domestic chore. It had been a long time she'd cooked for anyone apart from herself and didn't have the time or compunction to do so most of the time, often settling for a readymade salad or a microwave meal in the evening.

"Why'd you stop?" he asked softly and she bristled immediately at his words. She should have known he would somehow sense there was an opportunity to mock her in the offing.

She turned around from her spot at the counter to shoot him a glare as he leaned against the doorframe into the room, a soft smile on his lips. His hair was dishevelled and his vest had the bottom button undone, his shirt opened to the top of his vest, bronzed flesh on show. He looked gloriously rumpled and her heart skipped a beat. She had seen him like this many times at work but never had it had such a powerful effect on her. She supposed it was the fact he was standing in her kitchen that made the difference. Or her memory of his lips on hers days before. Or perhaps both.

After staring for longer than she knew was decent she turned back to her vegetable chopping quickly, swallowing hard. "How are you feeling?" she asked, hoping it sounded casual.

"Better now," he replied, his tone unabashedly seductive and she knew he had a smirk on his face. She reddened immediately and shook her head slightly.

She felt his presence at her back as he walked up behind her. When he reached above her to retrieve a glass from a higher cupboard, a hand gently squeezing her shoulder as he did so, his front just touching her hair and his breath close to her ear as he reached up she wondered if he was purposefully trying to rattle her with the close proximity of his body. Well of course he was, she quickly surmised. Although she was more angry with herself that it was working so well in his favour as her treacherous heart beat wildly in her chest.

He went to the sink and filled his glass with water, popping pills he lifted from the counter and washing them down. "See Lisbon, told you I'd be a good patient and take my medication."

She huffed, laughing, "Knowing you you've probably stashed them in one of your pockets."

He glanced over at her, raising an eyebrow and grinning. "You want to search me? You're more than welcome to, my dear."

"I'll pass thanks," she replied quickly, rolling her eyes.

"So," he said brightly a moment later as he rolled up his sleeves, "what can I do to help?"

"You're supposed to be resting."

"I've been asleep for the last three hours, Lisbon. I think I'm capable of a little chopping and peeling." He peered at the items beside her, picking up a packet of what looked like rice. He frowned, "quinoa? What the hell is that?"

She grinned, suddenly enjoying herself immensely. "It's a type of grain, like rice, but healthier."

"It looks like bird seed," Jane responded, disheartened, shaking his head. "Come on, Lisbon. You don't want to eat this anymore than I do. Let's order a pizza."

"It's good once you boil it." She shot him a look that she wasn't about to be swayed on the matter. She took the packet off him, turning to the back of it. "Apparently," she added distractedly, her brow furrowed as she read the instructions.

"Well, who am I to argue with an obvious expert in the field?" he replied, rolling his eyes.

She placed the packet back on the counter, going back to chopping a cucumber. "Stop behaving like a child, Jane. You can eat whatever crap you like in three days' time."

"Well your bedside manner and delivery could do with a little work but I appreciate the sentiment behind it nonetheless, Lisbon."

"You were the one who insisted on staying here, Jane. My house, my rules."

He grinned at her wolfishly. "You know I do love it when you get authoritarian on me."

"Oh, shut up," she muttered under her breath.

The following minutes were spent with Jane critiquing Lisbon's knife skills, obviously finding more amusement there than in actually help her prepare dinner. It was only when she threatened him with the sharp blade of the knife did he retreat back to the safety of her living room.

Dinner was spent with her catching him up on a case that had come across her desk that afternoon and them both being surprisingly impressed with the quinoa salad she'd made. He watched as she cleared the plates away, her nerves beginning to get the better of her as nightfall approached. They'd been to dinner many times as friends and had eaten take out at her place on a few occasions while going over case files. But this time there was no expectation of him leaving afterwards. He sat on her couch as she busied herself with doing everything than sit down beside him. When she took her cheque book out of her bag with the obvious intention of balancing it he finally spoke. "Lisbon, what's next? You going to bleed the brakes on your car? Come on, you know we need to talk."

She looked up from the table where they'd eaten dinner, bank statements in front of her now. "What else have we been doing all night? Besides, it's getting late. You should turn in, you need the rest."

He sighed, exasperated. "What I need is to have a proper conversation with you." Softer, "Please, Lisbon, just sit down and let's talk." He patted the cushion beside him.

A second later her shoulders sagged in defeat and she came to sit beside him, her face full of apprehension.

"I'm not going to bite," he smiled. "Not unless you want me to," he grinned.

"You need to stop that, Jane."

"Stop what?"

"You know what. Making innuendos, invading my personal space."

"The innuendos I'll work on. Little difficult not to invade your personal space when we're currently cohabitating."

She grunted in response.

Seriousness in his tone he asked, "Have you thought about our conversation in the hospital at all?"

She looked at him sideways. "You know I have," she answered softly.

"And have you come to a decision?"

She sighed loudly. "I...I don't know, Jane. There are a lot of reasons why we shouldn't be even contemplating changing what we already have."

"Okay, like what?"

"Well, for one thing I'm your boss-"

He began to chuckle and she glared at him. He opened his mouth in surprise. "Oh, I'm sorry, you're being serious?"

"Of course I'm being serious. It's the truth, isn't it?"

He tilted his head from side to side. "Only technically."

"No! Not only technically, Jane. You're a member of my team. I'm responsible for you just as I am them."

"Oh, so you're saying you treat me like you do Cho and the others? Come on, Lisbon. Even you can't keep a straight face with that answer."

"I only treat you differently because you behave differently. You hardly ever listen to a word I say."

"Mmm. So doesn't that mean that you're not actually my boss, then? Or at least not a very effective one. Since being so would imply I follow your orders. Which you've just admitted I don't. Well, much."

"God, you're infuriating," she muttered under her breath.

"Come on Lisbon, we're partners, right? That's how I see you. Equals."

She raised an eyebrow. "If that were the case then you'd listen to at least fifty percent of what I say."

"Meh. Semantics." He touched her hand a moment later, rubbing his fingers over her knuckles. "Besides anything else we wouldn't exactly being going public. I mean if Red John-"

"Oh god, Jane! Not everything is about him!" she shouted. As soon as the words left her mouth she only wished that were the truth. He was everywhere, his words invading her dreams, recollection of his nasally voice making her scrub her skin raw every morning since she'd talked to him and yet still feeling dirty afterwards, tainted by him. And the prevailing thought that maybe he was right. Maybe he knew Jane better than she did.

"That's exactly what I'm trying to move away from, Teresa. But he's still a threat and we need to remember that."

She looked him deep in the eyes and could see the struggle within him to let go of the hatred and the anger, to choose a better path, to choose her over him. She swallowed a lump in her throat, blinking tears away. One escaped and ran down her cheek. Jane brushed it away with his thumb, smiling sweetly at her as he did so. "We can make this work. I'm sure of it." He said the words so convincingly she could almost envisage how wonderful it could be between them, to allow themselves this chance to be together.

But Red John's words echoed in her head. "What if we can't make it work?"

He was surprised by the question. "Why wouldn't we?"

Because you might hate me when you find out what I did, were the first thoughts to enter her head. "Jane, people get together and break up all the time."

"Well I don't," he replied emphatically. His expression softened and he struggled to find the words. "I'd like to think that well...if...my wife hadn't...died then we'd still be together."

"I'm not her, Jane," Lisbon replied softly. "I could never be her."

He frowned and then laughed softly. "I think I'm more than aware of that, Lisbon. I'm not asking you to be a replacement, a carbon copy of what I had before. Besides anything else I'm not the man she married any longer either. I've changed. Sometimes for the worse admittedly. At other times, for the better and they are largely due to you."

She looked unsure for a moment so he continued. "Teresa, all I want is for you to continue to be you. Someone who'll kick me up the ass when I step out of line. Someone who makes me laugh without even meaning to. A smart, beautiful, compassionate woman. And perhaps more important than any of that, someone I trust."

The last word hit her in the heart like a steam train and she closed her eyes to recover, to get ready to tell him the truth.

Jane leaned in and kissed her softly, misinterpreting her action completely. She felt his lips on hers, gentle and inviting. A fraction of a second later she responded, savouring the softness of them compared to the dryness she had felt days before. When both of them were sure he was going to die. She kissed him back with more urgency, needing the reassurance suddenly that he was alive still, breathing, kissing her. When she felt his arms going around her and felt the strong beating of his heart against her chest, his kisses insistent she knew it was pointless to battle the inevitable any longer.

A part of her knew she would someday have to pay for the pleasure she was experiencing now. That karma would come back to haunt her, that she was not someone who got something for nothing. She'd never even won on a scratch card. But, as Jane trailed teasing kisses down her neck, she allowed herself to give in to the feelings she had repressed for years and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer.