Jane stood outside Lisbon's office and took a deep breath.
He'd considered the matter long and hard. Examined the issue from every angle. Weighed the pros and cons, calculated every risk. At the end of it all, he'd come to a decision.
He was going to ask Teresa Lisbon out on a date.
He'd been thinking about it for a long time. He'd always been aware of his attraction to her, but for ages, he'd resisted it. He'd feared that if he let himself get closer to her, she might end up in danger, as a target of Red John. He'd worried that a romantic relationship would divert his attention from his goal of revenge. He considered the fact that if he entered into that kind of relationship with her, she might expect him to change his goal all together, to give it up.
But in the end, he concluded that he really didn't have any choice.
He'd grown so preoccupied with her proximity that a significant amount of his brain power was already devoted to daydreaming and/or scheming about how to spend more time with her, so it wasn't like that was time currently being spent to further his mission of revenge. It was a sunk cost. He should try to profit from it by spending more time with her rather than just daydreaming about it.
The issue of whether being in a romantic relationship with him might put her in more danger was a deeper concern. However, after ruminating on the topic for several weeks, he concluded that a) Red John probably already knew how Jane felt about Lisbon, therefore any decisions to target her based on Jane's emotional connection to her were unlikely to be altered by whether they were actually in a relationship, b) there was safety in numbers, and c) Lisbon was likely to charge into danger no matter what Jane had to say about it, so it made more sense to put himself in her corner, as it were, so they could put their heads together and figure out the best ways to manage the risk together.
As for the possibility that she might ask him to give up his revenge, to prioritize her needs and feelings on the subject over his own as a condition of gaining access to parts of her life that she'd never shared with him before—well, that was a risk he was going to have to accept. He knew Lisbon wanted to end Red John's reign of terror almost as much as he did. It was the how that was the sticking point. They were partners, and damn good ones. He was confident they would find a mutually agreeable solution. If they couldn't—well, he was in love with her, and he wanted to be with her. If she was willing to grant him that, he was prepared to be persuaded to alter his plans to account for some reasonable accommodation.
He'd reached the point where daydreaming about being with her had become so distracting it was crowding out everything else. He needed to ask her for his own sanity. So he'd decided. And now—
Now, all that remained was to ask.
He wiped his suddenly clammy palms on his suit trouser legs. He was uncharacteristically nervous. He'd tried to guess what she might say, if he asked, but his powers of prediction had thoroughly failed him. He'd considered every possible outcome from her raising an eyebrow and asking him, "What took you so long?" to her shooting him down cold. In the latter scenario, possible reasons for rejection included a) his constant lying and manipulation, b) unwillingness to believe he might be willing to compromise on any aspect of his revenge, c) a conviction that given that she spent a majority of her waking hours dealing with his more aggravating habits, she had no interest in signing up to deal with more of them in her down time, or d) her general reluctance to open herself up to any kind of emotional obligations without some kind of escape hatch built in. There were a few other possible reasons he considered, but these seemed most likely. Attraction, he'd ruled out. He'd collected enough data about her blushes and pulse rate when he was near her over the years that he was confident that was not an issue.
Still, nothing ventured, nothing gained. He took another deep breath and knocked on the door.
"Come in," Lisbon called.
He opened the door. "Hi."
She looked up at him, her brow furrowed in confusion. "You knocked."
"Yes."
"You never knock," she said, looking at him curiously. "Especially this time of night, when nobody else is around." It was after seven, and the rest of the team had left at five.
"Oh, well," Jane said. This was not an auspicious beginning. "Trying out a new thing. Being considerate. I hear it's all the rage."
Her eyes narrowed. "You want something."
"Ah—well, I suppose that's true," he said, shifting on his feet. He wouldn't have phrased it like that, but technically, she was right.
She sighed. "Out with it, then."
He'd hoped for an opportunity to lead into the topic with some light-hearted banter and charm. He cleared his throat. "I was hoping to persuade you to go out on a date with me. Would that—would you be willing, I mean—that is—what do you say? Will you go out on a date with me?"
She sat back in her chair and surveyed him with deep suspicion. "What's the gag?"
"No gag," he said, hastening to reassure her. "This is on the level. I want to take you out. Will you go?"
"Uh-huh," she said, clearly unconvinced. "What did you have in mind?"
Jane blinked. Was her acceptance of the date going to be predicated on whether he came up with something creative enough? He didn't think Lisbon would appreciate any dazzling stunts on the first date. He'd planned to keep it simple, traditional, to keep his intentions clear. "Dinner on Friday?" he ventured.
She crossed her arms over her chest, oozing skepticism. "Where?"
"Vittriano's," he said, gaining confidence. Questions were a good thing. She may not be swooning at her desk over the idea, but she was engaged in the conversation and she hadn't shot him down yet.
"Fancy," she remarked.
"I thought the occasion merited something a cut above the common mode," Jane said, watching her intently. Why was it now that it really mattered, he was having so much difficulty reading her? His emotions must be clouding his judgment. His stomach was in knots and it was making it very difficult to think clearly.
"What time?" she asked tersely.
"Would seven o'clock work?"
"If I say yes, what is the level of regret I'm going to reach by the end of the evening?" she asked. "On a scale of one to accidentally being shipped to Mexico?"
"Nothing dire is going to happen," Jane said. "It's just dinner. I'm buying. I'll get you the fanciest dessert they have. I promise."
She sighed. "All right. Fine. I'll meet you there at seven. Now get out of here so I can finish this up and go home."
"Ah—okay. Good night, then." Summarily dismissed, Jane withdrew and retreated to his couch. He hadn't considered this exact outcome, and he was struggling to interpret their exchange. Okay, so no swooning. He'd never really expected as much, but still, she hadn't blushed once. That seemed a troubling sign. And he'd planned to wax eloquent about her many virtues and provide a moving emotional declaration to accompany the request for dinner, but she'd hustled him out of her office before he'd had a chance to start in on his carefully crafted speech. On the other hand, she had agreed to the date. That was the most important thing, wasn't it? He decided to declare victory. He took a nap to celebrate.
Xxx
He got to the restaurant early on Friday, wanting to make sure his request for the best table by the window had been arranged properly and to discuss several particulars with the sommelier. He wouldn't order for Lisbon, she would hate that, but he was prepared with several recommendations. She trusted his instincts on food, even if she didn't trust him in other areas. He was keen to lean into any areas of trust and build on them wherever the opportunities arose, so it was important he didn't fail her on this.
Lisbon arrived five minutes early, wearing black heels and a stunning wine colored dress with long sleeves. She carried a small black clutch that he was certain contained a gun. He frowned a little. Okay, she was the poster girl for the NRA, he knew that, but surely there was no reason to come armed to a date?
He jumped up when she got to their table and greeted her with a kiss on the cheek. "You look beautiful," he said sincerely. Damn, he should have insisted on picking her up. He'd wanted to bring her flowers. But she had explicitly said she'd meet him here so he hadn't argued, ready to take the win. He'd have to bring her wildflowers another day.
"Thanks," she said, looking around the room, distracted.
Still no blush. What was going on here?
He pulled her chair out for her and she didn't even snark at him about being perfectly capable of seating herself without his assistance. She just sat down and took a sip from her glass of water, then turned a little so she was positioned to look out across the room at the other diners.
Jane sat down. "Aren't you going to tell me I look good, too?" he couldn't help but ask. He'd bought a new suit and was even wearing a new pair of shoes.
She rolled her eyes. "Very handsome."
That had been downright placating. Okay, fine, she never liked to indulge his vanity, he should have been ready for that one. He moved on. "Wine?" he said, raising the bottle of two hundred dollar wine he'd picked out with the assistance of the sommelier.
"None for me, thanks," Lisbon said, her eyes scanning the room.
He paused. Lisbon wasn't a teetotaler. And surely she was a tiny bit nervous about this major change to their dynamic. Shouldn't she want a glass of wine to soothe her nerves about being on a date with him? "You sure?" he asked, uncertain. "It's really good. I tried it before you came to be sure."
"Fine, whatever," she said impatiently.
Okay, again, not quite the enthusiasm he'd been hoping for, but he'd yet again secured an affirmative answer. He poured her a generous helping of wine and set the glass before her.
She took a tiny sip. "That is good," she acknowledged, before returning her attention to the task of scanning the restaurant.
"I'm really glad you agreed to come," Jane said. "It means a lot to me." He took a deep breath, preparing to launch into his emotional declaration, but Lisbon interrupted before he could get started.
"Yeah, okay, Jane, you got me here," she said impatiently. "Now, what are we looking for?"
He paused. "Looking for?"
She gestured vaguely towards the rest of the restaurant. "I let you convince me to come here on my night off against my better judgment, and sure, I'm the sucker who agreed, but the least you could do is tell me why we're here."
Oh. Oh, no. Jane's stomach sank. "I did tell you. We're on a date."
She rolled her eyes. "Right. I meant, who are we looking for? Did you make a deal with Vice? Organized Crime? It'd be really helpful if you could narrow it down for me so I'm not craning my neck trying to surveil the whole restaurant while you string me along for your amusement."
She thought he'd asked her to come here as part of an undercover mission. Jane wanted to bury his face in his palm, but he straightened, intent on containing the damage right away. "No, Lisbon, that is, Teresa—you've got it all wrong. I really did want to ask you on a date, you and me, no work involved, I swear—"
But Lisbon wasn't listening to him. Her eyes, still scanning over the other guests, had lighted on a tall, portly man with dark hair who'd just entered the restaurant with a beautiful blonde on his arm. "Holy crap," she said, slouching down a little in her seat. "That's Anton Mariani."
"Who's that?" Jane said, dismayed.
"Come on, Jane, you obviously knew he was going to be here. How could you not tell me this was the guy we're after? I could have prepared better."
"Lisbon," Jane said, with increasing desperation. "I mean, Teresa. I didn't bring you here because of him."
She turned to him, eyes wide. "You didn't? Is it the blonde, then? Is she in on it, too?"
"In on what?" Jane asked before he could help himself.
"Jane," Lisbon said, annoyed. "You got your reveal. You obviously already know Mariani's a big deal and that Organized Crime is trying to bust him for making illegal arms deals with foreign governments. So quit being cagey and tell me who the blonde is."
"I have no idea," Jane said sourly. Of all the rotten luck.
"Hm. I guess we'll have to get closer," Lisbon said. "It would probably attract attention if we tried to switch tables to be closer to them, wouldn't it?"
But this turned out to be unnecessary. Because Anton Mariani and his ill-gotten gains had garnered him a seat at the second best table in the place, which happened to be right next to theirs.
Jane gloomily surrendered to fate. His one moment of recompense came to him in the form of Lisbon beaming at him because she mistakenly attributed their proximity to a crime lord to Jane anticipating the situation and engineering the seating arrangements in advance.
Lisbon was completely inattentive when the waiter came, absorbed in eavesdropping on the couple behind her, so Jane ended up ordering for her after all.
She would have remained silent the entire meal, completely focused on eavesdropping, but Jane decided that since she was, in her mind, playing a part, he might as well try to make the experience as date-like as possible. He told several charming anecdotes, asked her about her brothers, asked if she'd heard from Virgil lately, and proposed they go to a play together next month. Lisbon answered distractedly, less than half her attention on a single thing he said, but he did wring a few updates on her brothers from her, and she paused to say in surprise, "This is really good," when she'd made it halfway through her meal.
At one point, she turned to him, eyes shining, and Jane stopped midway through pouring himself a second glass of wine, arrested. But then it turned out she was excited because the blonde was in on it, and Mariani had just told her about a deal that he was monitoring that was supposed to down later that night.
Lisbon unexpectedly leaned forward and touched the back of Jane's hand. He was so startled, he almost knocked over his glass of wine. Then he was so distracted by the little bolts of molten pleasure shooting up his arm from where she was touching his hand that he didn't catch what she was trying to ask him until she huffed in exasperation and leaned even closer. Her breath on his ear sent shivers racing down his neck. "I said," she breathed into his ear, "What kind of tactical support does Organized Crime have in place?"
He blinked, still distracted by the shivers. "Uh. None?"
"Seriously?" she said, and leaned back. "Why do you always have to make things so unnecessarily complicated?" she said, exasperated. She stood. "I'll be right back."
She disappeared in the direction of the bathroom. Jane sipped his wine morosely, and when she came back, she was glowing with satisfaction. She bent and whispered in his ear again before she sat down, setting every nerve ending he had alight. "They're sending a tactical unit down to the docks," she reported quietly, her breath caressing his ear, and really, had there ever been more romantic words? Jane was ready to melt into a puddle of lust in his chair. "We're to stay here and monitor the situation."
"Very good," Jane managed, watching her wide-eyed as she sat down, looking enticingly pleased with herself. "Ah—more wine?"
"Don't mind if I do," she said, grinning, and held out her glass.
Xxx
The next forty-five minutes were pure torture. Lisbon was seated across from him, drinking her wine and looking smug, which was a very good look on her. She had that look in her eye, the one where she met his gaze and her expression said, 'I'm onto you, and you make me crazy, but I'm willing to tolerate it because you helped me catch a bad guy and that's one of my favorite things, so I guess I'll let you stick around after all.' It translated into a combination of sparkling eyes, a knowing look, and a fond smile that was very nearly his undoing. He'd gotten fleeting tastes of that look over the years, but never at such length from such close proximity. It was going straight to his head. It was all he could do to stop himself from reaching across the table and kissing her senseless.
Finally, Mariani and his blonde paid their check and got up to leave. Jane hastily paid the bill and he and Lisbon followed them out of the restaurant at a discreet distance.
Then Lisbon took him by surprise again by taking his hand. "Let's take my car," she suggested.
Jane would have agreed to anything by that point to keep his hand in hers. He risked raising her hand to his lips to kiss the back of it to signal his acquiescence. Lisbon shot him a startled look, but didn't comment.
Lisbon waited until the other car pulled out of the lot, then tailed Mariani and his date down to the docks. She radioed the tactical team to update them on the situation, then parked a block away from where the bust was supposed to go down.
Further compounding the evening's tortures, Lisbon instructed Jane not to look while she changed into jeans and a t-shirt the backseat. Torn between chivalry and desire, he confined himself to stealing the occasional tantalizing glimpse in the rearview mirror, which only served to stir his imagination and ultimately left him in an even more unsatisfactory position than before.
She laced up her running shoes, then got out of the car, slung her Kevlar vest around her shoulders, and drew the gun from her clutch. "Stay here," she instructed.
"Okay," Jane said.
"I mean it, Jane. No running off."
"I'll stay, Lisbon. I promise." As he didn't have a clever trap arranged in advance, this was one of those situations where it was best he stayed clear of all the people with guns.
"All right." She nodded to the radio on the console. "Radio for help if anybody comes this way."
"I will. Stay safe."
She nodded and left him.
This was a very depressing outcome for a date. He'd technically gotten her to take her clothes off, then she'd left him to pursue another man.
The next fifteen minutes passed in a tedious mix of boredom and anxiety. Jane had seen Lisbon lead dozens of these kinds of takedowns and had a deep appreciation for her ability to handle herself and lead a team in these situations, but he always worried when he had to watch her disappear into a building containing a bunch of cornered criminals with guns.
Jane heard gunfire in the distance. He got out of the car and stood irresolute, straining to hear more.
Nothing.
Five agonizing minutes later, Lisbon returned. "Got 'em," she said happily, pushing past him and opening the glove department to stash her gun inside. "Thirteen arrests! We've got them cold for weapons trafficking."
"I heard gunfire," Jane said, his heart still beating a little too fast.
"No one was hurt," she assured him. "One of the perps panicked and shot off a few rounds, but didn't hit anybody. Tactical support subdued him without any injuries."
"That's a relief," Jane said, sagging against the door.
She shot him a curious look. "How'd you know about Mariani? The Organized Crime team said they didn't have any intel that anything was going down tonight."
"Oh, you know," Jane said, still disgruntled by how the evening had unfolded. "I have my ways."
She punched him in the arm. "You make me crazy, you know that?" But she was smiling.
"There are occasions," Jane said sourly. "When the feeling is entirely mutual."
They got back in the car. Lisbon cranked up the radio and drove off, relaxed at the wheel and thoroughly pleased. "Now that," she said in satisfaction, "was what I call a good night."
xxx
A/N: This story was originally supposed to be three chapters, but I had so much fun writing it I extended it to five. Pure fluff and silliness ahead.
