The car is parked on the side of the road about forty-five minutes outside of Austin near some waterfall she does not know the name of (despite the fact that he had certainly told her what it was on the drive out here). The sun is currently in the process of setting, and the view is pretty spectacular, she has to admit, but she's not looking at that. She's looking at him look at the sunset, which, in her opinion, is much more impressive. It's very rare that Jane is both fully awake and this still.

She's just beginning to ponder why this might be when, without taking his eyes off of the sky, he suddenly says, "I wouldn't have gone to all the trouble to drive you out here if I knew you were just gonna stare at me instead."

About two weeks ago, she would've responded to this with a snort and a sarcastic comment to hide the fact that he'd caught her red-handed. While no longer necessary for that reason, her failure to do so now would have the ill-favored ramification of further inflating his already considerably large ego. So she snorts. But for the life of her, she can't come up with a witty remark, so she simply refuses to dignify this with a response, and instead decides to take an entirely different course of action—one which she has recently found to be an infallible method of distraction.

"When do you have to get this thing back?" she asks him, reaching over to rest a hand on his thigh.

He looks over at her and shrugs, "Whenever, pretty much. Before the end of the day."

"By midnight?" she taps a little rhythm with her fingers, then slides her hand a little further around the curve of his leg, tightening her grip.

He nods, and in response, she kisses him.

While she truly had only been intending it as a bit of a distraction, she can't say she's disappointed when he deepens the kiss, scooting closer to her and wrapping his arm around her waist.

"I've been waiting to do that since we left the house this morning," he tells her when she pulls away for a breath.

"It didn't seem like you were getting around to it anytime soon," she replies easily. "Seeing as we've been sitting here in silence for about fifteen minutes now."

"I was building the atmosphere, Lisbon. I can't have you thinking I'm lacking in romanticism."

"So this was all just a ploy, then, huh?" she teases.

"You caught me," he says, throwing his hands up in the air in mock surrender. "I lured you out here under the pretense of a classy evening so you'd have no choice but to throw yourself at me."

"I knew it," she grins. "You're powerless to resist me for a full eight hour work day."

Jane shakes his head, but he's smiling when he says, "Need I remind you that it was you that came onto me in the break room today?"

"That's irrelevant."

"It is not. It's exactly the point, actually."

"If I did that, and I'm not saying I did, then it's your fault that I was compelled to in the first place," she contests. "You can't just expect me to go from all Jane all the time to practically none at all."

"How is that my fault?" Jane scoffs. "You were the one that wanted to keep it to ourselves!"

"Yes," she admits, "but you spent nearly two weeks instilling a pavlovian response to that look you were giving me. I cannot be blamed for my reaction."

She watches an unbearable smirk grow across his face.

"It was the look then, huh?"

"You knew exactly what you were doing," she informs him pointedly. "Don't try to be cute."

"I'm not," he argues. "I'm well past cute. I'm…what was the word you used again? Gorgeous?"

Lisbon rolls her eyes.

"I give you one compliment—"

"A very nice compliment it was!"

"—and now you're more insufferable than ever," she says with mild, but genuine, irritation.

"What can I say?" Jane shrugs. "I'm self-conscious. It's nice to have an ego boost every now and then."

"As if your ego needs boosting, Mr. 'I Never Do What I'm Told Because I'm Smarter Than Everyone Else.'"

"Well now you're just making things up," says Jane. "I never once said that."

"You implied it. Hundreds of times."

"Those two things are not the same. Don't put words in my mouth, Lisbon."

Lisbon huffs loudly, "I'm trying to put my tongue in your mouth, but you won't quit talking long enough to let me."

This gets a laugh out of him. He wraps his other arm around her waist and tugs her closer to him.

"I'm sorry," he replies, tucking her hair behind her ear. "No idea what would possess me to do that."

"Because there's nothing you love more than the sound of your own voice?" Lisbon offers, one eyebrow raised.

"Now, that's just not true," Jane shakes his head. He reaches for her chin, pulling her face to his to press his lips against hers in a few short, sweet kisses. "This first. Then the sound of my own voice."

Lisbon rolls her eyes again, but she can't help smiling what she's sure is the goofiest looking smile at the thought of kissing her truly being his favorite activity—mainly because she's pretty certain he's telling the truth. She wants to say something sappy back, but she worries it'll ruin the moment. The past two weeks have been so full of unpacking emotional baggage, and right now everything is so lighthearted. Fun.

She'd thought that going back to work would burst their bubble, and it had, in a way. Reality had set back in, but suddenly she found herself being appreciative of a whole new level of their relationship. She likes getting ready for work together in the mornings and going home together in the evenings and being able to look over at him across the room during the times between without worrying if he'll notice. She thinks this is what people like to refer to as domesticity.

In all the times she had imagined what it would be like to be with Jane in any capacity, it never occurred to her that this would be the part that made her the happiest—probably because she'd had no reason to believe it could. In fact, it was generally the part she dreaded the most about the handful of relationships she'd ever had which made it that far.

She shouldn't be surprised that Jane is different. She shouldn't be surprised that feeling the way she does about him makes every mundane moment impossibly joyful. It's been that way for years now, anyways.

"What you love most is making out with women in cars?" she finally teases in response, looking to anchor herself back in this moment.

"Actually," he narrows his eyes in a contemplative way. "You know, I don't think I've ever done this before."

"Really?" she asks, tilting her head slightly.

"Believe or not Lisbon, I didn't spend my teenage years gallivanting around, attempting to sleep with any girl that looked my way. I had more important things on my mind. And besides, I didn't own a car until I was in my twenties. Not much opportunity there."

She mulls this over for a second, then pushes him off of her. He looks ready to protest, but she slips one leg over his and eases herself onto his lap before he can get the chance.

"Then I guess it's my duty to educate you on what you missed out on, hmm?" she raises her eyebrows at him, watching as he visibly struggles to take a breath.

Instead of giving her a characteristically quippy response, he nods enthusiastically, his hands sliding from her calves to her upper thighs. She leans forward slowly, taking her time to watch his reaction as her lips meet his, her hair falling down like a curtain around both of their faces.

She lets herself get lost kissing him for a while. She doesn't even realize she's started unbuttoning his shirt until she feels him start to chuckle.

"You're eager, today," he mumbles against her lips, but doesn't otherwise deter her. "As a matter of fact, you've been pretty eager every day since we went back to work."

"Is that a complaint?"

"No!" he nearly shouts. "Absolutely not. No complaints from me. Just—more of an observation."

Satisfied with that response, she continues on her path for a few more seconds before the sound of his voice distracts her again.

"Have you always been so…needy?"

She sighs heavily, knowing very well what he actually means by that, but doesn't bother to afford it more than an off-handed response.

"Yes and no."

"What does that mean?"

Now aware that he's not going to let this go, she finally lifts her head to meet his gaze and shrugs, hoping this gives her an air of nonchalance.

"I mean, to an extent, yes," she admits, and then almost leaves it at that. But this alone will not satisfy him. "Not like this, though."

He gives her a look that she knows means he wants an explanation that he's a little too afraid of asking for, worried both that she will think he's pushing too much and that he will not like the answer.

"This is…" she starts, falters, weighs whether she ought to lay all of the cards on the table right here and now, then gives him a little half-smile, and, blushing profusely, adds, "This is all you."

He ponders this for a moment, now less unsure, she thinks.

"Really?" he asks. He's studying her in a way that she's not sure she likes. The look on his face is one she knows all too well—his interest has been piqued exponentially.

"Don't act surprised," she crosses her arms and looks away from his eyes, not being able to handle it any longer.

"I am surprised."

"Then you're an idiot," she shakes her head, looking down at her lap. "I've never felt this way about anyone before. It's…different. Better. Doesn't it feel that way to you?"

"Well, yes, of course," he answers immediately, giving her the strength to look back up for a second. "But I've only ever been with one other woman. Unless you count—"

Any sense of security he'd given her in his initial response is instantly washed away by this addition. She knows she fails to mask her reaction by the way he immediately cuts himself off and moves his hands to hold her face.

"I'm sorry," he apologizes immediately, his thumbs stroking her cheeks. She worries for a moment that his slip-up is going to take this conversation down a path she has not yet prepared herself for, but he must sense her trepidation because he switches course immediately. "I only meant that I haven't as much experience to compare to, that's all."

"I don't have that much more experience," she snaps a little before she can help herself.

"No, I know that," he counters. "But you do have some. And it wouldn't matter to me how much or how little other experience you had because that's not the point, and you know it isn't."

She gives him a half-smile, just enough to assure him that she isn't really upset, and he kisses her forehead softly.

"What I'm trying to say is that I'm glad it feels that way for you because it feels that way for me, but I didn't know if that was typical or not."

"Definitely not. At least, not for me."

"So," he hedges. "Good enough to want to keep me around for a lifetime, then? Even if I don't have a plan?"

And there it goes. A perfectly nice moment being ruined despite her best efforts to keep everything light and casual.

That stupid plan.

"I knew he was going to get in your head!" she huffs, frustrated now for an entirely different reason—with Marcus for inserting himself somewhere he doesn't belong, but also a little with herself for not giving Jane the reassurance he'd needed at the time.

"He's not—"

"He is," she interrupts because while she's really in no mood to explore the issue currently, she's certainly not going to let it fester in his head any longer. "Jane, look at me. I don't need you to have a plan. I don't want you to have a plan. I just want you.

"Lisbon—" he starts to protest.

"No, just stop. Let me talk for a second."

She reaches between them and takes both of his hands, interlocking their fingers in what is now practically a subconscious gesture.

"You know me," she tells him firmly. "You know me more than anyone else. I don't like it when people make decisions for me, or when I feel like I'm not in control. Marcus trying to plan out every aspect of our lives would've driven me nuts. The stability was nice, in theory, but it wasn't enough to make me happy. You make me happy. All on your own. You already told me you plan to spend the rest of your life loving me, and that's enough."

"Earlier it seemed like…" he trails off, struggling. "You seemed disappointed when I said I didn't."

"I wasn't disappointed about that. I was upset because I felt like you'd made so much progress in finally feeling like you deserved to be happy, and then one out-of-pocket comment from Marcus had you spiraling back into all that self-loathing again."

He stares down at their hands and nods as though he's trying very hard to believe her.

"I'm sorry if it seemed like that disappointment was directed at you," she adds.

"You know I'd give you anything you wanted, don't you?" he finally says after a while, so quietly she might've missed it if she were any farther away.

She finds that she really doesn't know what to say to that.

Her silence causes him to finally look up, "I don't think I ever considered making a plan because I never thought we'd make it here, and then I thought that if by some miracle we did, I'd let you have me any way you wanted me, whatever that meant."

"Jane," she sighs, shaking her head, completely at a loss. "What am I going to do with you?"

"I think this is just something I'm going to need time with," he tells her, running his fingers through her hair soothingly. "I've got a lot to work through, and I'm not going to get there overnight."

"I know that. I just wish there was something I could do to help."

"You do help," he assures her. "Every day when I wake up and see you next to me, it reminds me that you think I deserve it, and that helps me more than you know."

She isn't entirely sure she believes him, but she thinks he believes this to be true, and if that's the case then there's nothing else she can say at this point that would make a difference.

"Okay," she tells him simply.

"Now," he starts again, this time in a much lighter tone, "as much as I'm enjoying unpacking all of my trauma right now, I believe I've maxed out on my ability to ignore the fact that you're still in my lap."

She grins, throwing her arms around his neck, "I'm impressed you lasted this long. I think you're entitled to a reward."

"Great," he nods, leaning his face towards hers. "Now where were we?"

A couple of hours later, once they've dropped the rental car back off and Jane's car back at the Airstream, she turns to watch him, driving her back to her house in her own car.

"I've got something for you too," she tells him.

"Oh, really?" he turns towards her as he comes to a stop at a traffic light.

"Mmhmm."

"Are you gonna tell me what it is?"

Instead of replying, she raises the arm she has resting on the middle console, which, because he's holding her hand, causes him to lift his own arm involuntarily. Without dropping his hand, she uses her other one to open the compartment and retrieve a small object from inside, which she then dangles in front of him with two fingers.

"A key?" he asks. His tone is slightly uncertain, but she knows that isn't because he's unsure of what it's for.

"Your key," she clarifies. "To my house."

Similarly unwillingly to let go of her hand, Jane uses the one that had been resting on the steering wheel to take the key from her, studying it carefully in silence until the light turns green. He slips it into his pocket at the same time he hits the gas.

"Thank you," he tells her, eyes on the road as he lifts their joined hands to his lips and places a soft kiss on the back of hers.

"You're welcome," she says simply, surprised he doesn't have anymore to say but thankful for it as well.

When they arrive, Jane uses his key to unlock the door, fumbling a little with the doorknob. She watches him carefully as they cross over the threshold. He tosses it in the air once and catches it again.

"When did you have this made?" he wonders, shutting the door behind them.

"Yesterday."

"Yesterday?" he looks at her quizzically. "We've literally been together for the last consecutive twenty-four hours."

"Yeah, so?" she shrugs, preferring to remain mysterious for the fun of it.

He stares at the key for a second, then back at her.

"You got Cho to pick this up, didn't you?"

"I will neither confirm nor deny that."

"Well, you couldn't have done it without my knowing, and since you're insistent upon keeping our relationship private, you wouldn't have asked anyone else to do it for fear of them inquiring as to the reason for the secrecy. Therefore, it had to have been Cho."

"Must you ruin everything?" she rolls her eyes, walking towards her bedroom.

"I should text Cho and thank him," he says, somewhat to himself, still standing by the door and looking at the key.

"You should come over here and finish what you started in the car," she counters, removing her jacket.

"Isn't it technically what you started in the car?" he asks, and while she hates the grin he's wearing, she's glad to see she's now got his full attention.

"Starting an argument isn't going to get you very far," she warns him as he begins to walk towards her.

"That hasn't been my experience," he contends.

She rolls her eyes, but before she gets the chance to say something back, he slings his arm around her waist and tugs her quite forcefully against him.

"In fact, I think it does a lot for me," he comments breezily, leaning back against her doorframe and dragging her with him. "And for you."

"Keep going and you'll find out," she challenges.

"With pleasure," he smirks, twirling them around into her room and pressing his lips to hers just as she tugs the door shut behind them.