Fic Commentary: Restraints, Ch. 5
Alright, Chapter 5. And the real reason this fic was almost never written. (Kinda forgot about this section when I did decide to write it. Then got here, and tried not to panic.) Thanks again to yaba for the readthrough, and for assuring me that this wasn’t a mess.
But yeah, two major issues in this fic: 1) How on earth did Jane manage to handcuff Lisbon in the first place (the minor issue) and 2) Writing this bit.
Because I don’t write mature fic, and this skirts the edges of that. And guys, writing romance in any kind of a genuine way can be hard. So there was a little mini-freakout before this chapter. But it’s fine now.
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Chapter 5
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It was the clang that woke her, she was sure of it.
I like this opening line. Don’t know why.
Someone had made some sort of godforsaken noise for who knows what reason.
Oh! Word I am fond of, godforsaken. It’s just all antique-y and fun.
Lisbon tried to burrow deeper into the pillow to block out the racket, sighing into the sheets.
The very high thread-count sheets. The sheets that felt like higher quality than the ones she’d tossed on her own bed the weekend before.
Her eyes popped open.
Oh right.
She wasn’t in her bed. She wasn’t at home. She was... Where the hell was she?
Where exactly had Jane taken her?
Now that Lisbon thought about it, she didn’t remember him mentioning... Although, she didn’t remember him saying much of anything after a certain point.
Yeah, they kind of skipped over the conversation they should have had, the one Jane had originally planned on having. So basically, they skip over all the practicalities and go straight to challenging each other.
There’d been a lot more nonverbal communication.
After he’d kissed her the first time.
And then...
Memories of the previous few hours started resurfacing, the way he’d touched her, kissed her, loved her. She’d always figured he’d be good (and yeah, she absolutely had thought about it, not only because of his particular skill set, but because she was attracted to him and she spent large portions of every day standing right next to him). Still, she hadn’t ever expected him to be quite so... romantic about it. She’d expected the intensity, the trembling, the almost overwhelming emotional release. But she’d thought he’d be more controlled, almost calculating. He’d certainly been assertive (Lisbon paused to feel for a bruise on her shoulder from when Jane had accidentally knocked her into a doorway on their way to the bedroom). But she hadn’t been expecting the look in his eyes when he’d finally gotten her shirt off or the way ‘dear’ had changed to ‘dearest’ before he finally lapsed into simply whispering her name over and over again.
Oh god, she’d slept with her consultant. She’d slept with Patrick Jane.
Oh god.
It was all his fault.
After all, he’d started it. He’d kissed her first.
Yeah, she freaks out a little. This isn’t surprising. She doesn’t really know what Jane wants at this point. I mean, I think part of her suspects, but the method of seduction doesn’t lead one to think he’s looking for a relationship per se.
xxxxx
Hours earlier
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More time jumps. This story might have more time jumps in it than anything else I’ve ever written come to think of it.
This was the other issue. I wasn’t sure how to set this up timeline was. I almost did it chronologically, but I wanted to start with Lisbon waking up alone, so there had to be at least one time jump. And then I wanted elements of both POVs, so that brought more. Yeah, this chapter was a bit of a mess in my head. Usually I have more of an internal plan before I write, even if I’m not much of a planner. I don’t spend months planning, just general ideas then I write. But yeah, this was just, problematic.
Almost immediately after giving him tacit permission to kiss her, Lisbon felt Jane’s hands tangle in her hair. But that hardly seemed important considering what his lips were currently doing.
All of a sudden she didn’t care about any of it anymore, the stupid argument (whatever it was about), the fact that Jane could be the most annoying man on the planet, the fact that he’d apparently woken up one morning and randomly decided to seduce her. She. Did. Not. Care. She wanted him. She hadn’t admitted to herself how much until that moment. But the man was constantly tying her up in knots and now she desperately them untied, and she wanted him to do it. She started to unbutton his vest, trying to bury her hands underneath it, or wrap them around his neck, or something. But she couldn’t because the damn handcuffs were in the way. She struggled against her bonds, groaning in irritation.
I like this idea, of him finally pushing her to far and she just snaps. Just gives in, because she’s so sick of controlling everything. This is really the central issue of this fic. It’s all about control, and having someone know you well enough that they know when to break it. And knowing that when they do it, they aren’t going to hurt you.
It took a minute for her frustration to register with Jane (he’d been too busy exploring her neck again). But as soon as it did, he had her wrists gently clasped in one hand while he fished the key to her handcuffs out of one of his multitude of pockets with the other. If Lisbon wanted her hands free to explore, she could have them free (he’d take the risk of getting punched in the face. It was more than worth it.).
This was the other thing. I didn’t want to keep her in the handcuffs. I didn’t want this to be unequal in that way. They’re going to keep challenging each other, baiting each other, but I didn’t want her at such an obvious physical disadvantage. I just, didn’t.
Lisbon was pretty sure her arms were around his neck before the cuffs hit the ground. He somehow managed to push her jacket off her shoulders at the same time. She wasn’t sure how. But again, she didn’t care; she was too busy running her hands along his shoulders, trying to push his jacket off. When Jane removed an arm from around her waist to shake the offending piece of clothing to the floor she’d taken advantage of his distraction to kiss him.
Take control a little.
She doesn’t need to be in control of everything (and she isn’t, for example where they’re going), but she’s not completely passive either.
She’d needed him closer, so much closer. She’s pretty sure that his moaned “Teresa,” meant that he was okay with that.
After he’d finally shed the damn jacket, Jane’s hands found her waist again and he’d started manoeuvring her across the room and down a hallway.
Lisbon wasn’t paying too much attention to the direction they were moving. She was occupied with the buttons on his vest.
That was when Jane had accidentally shoved her into a doorway.
Lisbon remembered he’d whispered sorry.
She was pretty sure she told him to shut up.
I enjoy this exchange. It just seems like so them to me.
None of that seemed to matter so much because she’d finally gotten the final layer of his shirt unbuttoned, and a few seconds later she felt her knees hit the back of the bed.
And she’d simply let herself fall back.
xxxxx
Now she was lying in that same bed. Alone.
She had no idea what was going on, what Jane was thinking, or what he wanted.
She was sure his intentions weren’t malicious, or cruel. But...
But he had seduced her almost out of the blue, and he hadn’t given her much of an indication what his future plans were. Was this intended to be a sort of a one-night stand, just one-time thing? There were elements of the afternoon that had seemed particularly unplanned, even by Jane standards. Or maybe it was all because he hadn’t been with a woman in a while and everything had all of a sudden sort of boiled over for him. She was the dominant female in his life. Maybe he’d just kissed her without considering the consequences. He didn’t think about the consequences a lot of the time.
It’s out of the blue for her, not for him. Problem. But he’ll explain soon, and it’ll all be good.
Except... except that struck Lisbon as rather careless, even for Jane, who admittedly could be careless.
And some of the things he’d said to her, about what kind of man she wanted, about her dinner date last week, they made Lisbon think that Jane maybe had been thinking about things for a while. Or at least longer than two hours.
She’s starting to put the pieces together, a little.
So maybe this was something a little more than casual sex.
Although, that still didn’t mean that Jane knew what he wanted from her.
Did he want a relationship? (Did she?) He was apparently making her dinner after all... Except that she hadn’t ever thought Jane was anywhere near ready to date again. Maybe he never would be. Maybe he was just making her dinner because he’d tricked her into coming here and she was his friend. Was he thinking about some sort of friends with benefits arrangement? Was this just a release of tension?
She had no friggin’ clue.
She didn’t even know where she was for heaven’s sakes.
Lisbon sat up and glanced around the bedroom, making sure the sheets were firmly wrapped around her. It was obviously a bedroom that had been lived in, and a male bedroom at that. The colour scheme was mostly deep blues with hints of greens. It was nice enough, better decorated than her own apartment in some ways, though it still felt a bit like it was settling in somehow.
She could poke around more, but given that she wasn’t sure where she was, that seemed like a bad idea. And anyway, where were her clothes?
She didn’t see them anywhere, and she was certain that most of them hadn’t been removed until the two of them had reached the bedroom.
Which meant Jane had collected them and taken them somewhere.
Which in turn meant she was kind of stuck. Swell.
That was when Lisbon noticed the clothes folded on the chair by the wall (her gun and badge on the table beside it where she vaguely remembered putting them earlier). It looked like a t-shirt and sweatpants.
The intention was unmistakeable. If she had the courage for it.
Lisbon dropped back against the pillow.
Apparently she had two options. She could get out of bed, put on the offered clothing and go get some answers, or she could bury herself in the blankets and hide from the world a little longer. She wasn’t going to lie; she was definitely leaning towards option B (especially since Jane really did have excellent taste in bedding). She pulled the comforter up over her head.
As a situation it certainly has the potential to be awkward, given all the unknowns, certainly. But Teresa Lisbon isn’t one to run from a challenge, for all that she’s good at denial.
Only to throw it back thirty seconds later.
She was Teresa Lisbon and she didn’t hide from anyone. She confronted violent criminals on a near-weekly basis; she could certainly deal with Patrick Jane. Especially since she could really smell dinner cooking now, and she hadn’t eaten since eleven that morning.
Plus she’s hungry, food does tend to improve people’s mood.
Before she could change her mind, Lisbon practically jumped from the bed and tossed the t-shirt over her head. It came to about three inches above her knees. She briefly considered whether the pants were even necessary, given that they’d inevitably also be several sizes too big. But she didn’t like the implications of that for any number of reasons. So she pulled the sweatpants on, pleased when she realized they had a drawstring waist and elastics around the ankles, and so weren’t as insanely huge as she’d otherwise feared.
Lisbon let herself snuggle briefly into the softness of the clothing, appreciating the familiarity of the faint smell of Jane’s cologne mixed with his laundry detergent. Then she realized she was acting like a high school student burrowing into her boyfriend’s sweater, and she was no high school student, and Jane wasn’t her boyfriend. And...
And part of her wished Jane would just suddenly appear in the doorway and forcefully (now that she knew just how forceful he could be) rip the t-shirt off again before tipping her back into bed and making her forget about the whole mess for a little while longer.
Except that dinner smelled really good.
Jane was cooking her dinner?
Lisbon’s heart thudded in her chest as she padded out of the bedroom, in the direction she assumed the kitchen was.
She was mainly going by smell. She’d been a bit distracted earlier, and Jane definitely hadn’t given her a formal tour.
He’d been far more interested in exploring her.
xxxxx
So, apparently the fact that they slept together was unexpected to people. I don’t find it so, but then, this was always my intention. I don’t know. It was always the point. They break each other’s control, and it just happens because they both want it, and they’re in no frame of mind to stop it. I think it makes perfect sense. Don’t get me wrong, most people like the progression of events, but they find it surprising, which surprises me, because I find it almost obvious. Obvious isn’t the right word, but I can’t think of a better one.
Lisbon had never been a particularly tactile person. She’d never really been one for touching other people. Other than tackling the suspects or shoving them into walls obviously. But she didn’t usually touch her friends, or her team.
She knew that she could be a bit stand-offish and that was fine. She just didn’t think a person needed to invade another’s personal space to show affection.
Maybe it was because she’d seen what the wrong kind of touch could do. Maybe she was reading too much into it.
She just wasn’t all that touchy-feely.
Jane was. Had been right from the start.
Although, Jane tends to touch in an impersonal kind of a way.
Even during their first year working together (oh, that first year - Lisbon could barely think about it without shuddering). Jane had constantly been touching her, taking her pulse to gauge her mood or just establish a baseline, a finger brushing along her arm to get her attention, grabbing her wrist to check the time on her watch, removing fluff from her suit, or leaves from her hair (after a bit of a messy tackle in a national park).
He was just tactile; it was how he operated.
It had driven her crazy.
Especially since he never seemed to do it quite as much with anyone else. She’d always figured her obvious discomfort at being touched amused him.
I can see this. Him touching her more because he’s always around her, but also because he knows it drives her crazy, but she’ll also allow it to a certain extent. So somewhere along the way all the little touches became habit, became part of who they were with each other. Because his relationship with her has always been different from with anyone else, whatever you think that relationship is exactly. He treats her differently.
And it didn’t matter how many times she snapped at him for touching her without warning, or yanked her arm away from him, he still did it.
Somewhere down the line she just stopped fighting. She got used to a hand on the small of her back as he led her out the door, to the way his fingers brushed against her pulse-point whenever she tried to hand him anything, to Jane taking all sorts of small physical liberties she never would have even considered allowing from anyone else.
But with Jane eventually it just seemed normal.
And somewhere along the way, with all those seemingly innocent brushes and strokes, he’d learned just how she’d liked to be touched. Not all the details of course, those he’d still needed to discover (and he’d definitely made a thorough beginning of it). But the general outline he’d already had memorized. The way he’d trailed his hands up her spine, or his lips down her neck, or his fingers across her hip, or his tongue...
He’d played her like an instrument he’d started learning long ago.
But oddly enough, some of the best moments had been when he’d accidentally hit a note that was ever-so-slightly off-key. When his hands had trembled against her skin, or his breath had stuttered, or especially when she’d distracted his hands from reaching their goal using her own
And in the end he’d made her want to become tactile, to learn to play him better (she knew a little, but not enough, not nearly enough).
He may have had a head start, but she was a fast learner.
And she was dying to catch up.
Given the opportunity of course.
But yeah, touch is also important in this fic. Because Lisbon doesn’t touch people much, and Jane touches her all of the time. And she has touched him to comfort him before. (Red John’s Friends anyone? Guh. That scene at the end.)
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Jane heard her when she got to the kitchen doorway.
He turned from the stove where he was trying to get his spaghetti sauce to cooperate; he’d made a few substitutions for ingredients and he was worried it wouldn’t turn out that well. But none of that seemed to matter quite as much anymore.
He smiled at her.
He’d been hoping she’d sleep a little longer, just so he could have the pleasure of waking her up again himself (he’d had several ideas about how to do that). But he found he didn’t really mind her beating him to the punch.
Wearing clothes several sizes too big for her, with her hair tousled and her cheeks flushed, Lisbon was one of the loveliest things he’d ever seen. Even if she did look a little uncertain (he could appreciate that; he’d been feeling a little uncertain himself up until about ten seconds ago, before she’d padded through the doorway).
Lisbon returned his smile shyly. She couldn’t help it. She’d defy any woman to keep a stern expression on their face when confronted with Patrick Jane looking casual in plaid pyjama pants and a t-shirt genuinely beaming at them.
Because they’re far more nervous when they’re alone and analyzing things. When they’re together, well, there’s familiarity. And the fact that they kind of can’t help being happy (particularly Jane, which rubs off on her). And anyway, he’s said that he tends to be happier when she’s happy. The principle holds. So there.
(I should point out before this section starts, that when I’m writing fic like this, my brain basically starts filling in the major events going, OH, and then Jane will do this, and it will be CHARMING. And then Lisbon will do this and CHARMING. And ADORABLE. And then they will be happy, because that is how this is GOING TO WORK. This is where incurable romantic kinda comes into play...)
Jane wiped his hands on a tea towel and manoeuvred around the island to meet her. “You’re up,” he murmured, sliding a hand along her waist, and placing a kiss near her temple.
“Mmhm,” Lisbon agreed, allowing herself to relax against him. “I assume you left these out for me,” she added, gesturing to her ensemble.
“Of course I did. I was just going to wake you in a minute. Dinner’s almost ready,” he explained.
“Dinner?” Lisbon asked softly.
Because acknowledging that Jane is making you dinner is a little different then walking into his kitchen and seeing him doing it. Someone described this in a review as them playing house, and it really is.
“Mmhm,” he hummed. “Would you like a glass of wine? I’ve got a nice red?”
Lisbon blinked, “Sure.” A little alcohol sounded like an excellent idea all of a sudden.
Jane flashed her another smile and spun around the island, grabbing a couple of wine glasses from the cupboard and a bottle from the counter, which Lisbon couldn’t help noticing was already open. She didn’t comment, just took the glass he offered her a few seconds later.
She took a sip immediately, more to keep her mouth busy than anything else. She couldn’t think of a single thing to say. Damn Jane for acting so normal. There were times when the man should really just be taken outside and shot.
“Do you like the wine?” Jane murmured. “It’s from...”
He’s trying to put her at ease, he really is, but...
“I don’t care where it’s from!” Lisbon exploded suddenly. She couldn’t do this. Couldn’t pretend that this was normal, that... that it was just another meal with her consultant, who actually looked vaguely startled by her outburst. She didn’t care. “What is this Jane? What are we doing? What do you want? I mean, you said you wanted to talk to me. Or was that all just pretence so you could handcuff me and then...” Lisbon swallowed and trailed off. “Anyway, I have no idea what’s going on. I don’t know where my clothes are. I have no idea where I even am! You haven’t told me a damn thing. You’re just standing there making dinner like nothing’s out of place. Whose house is this even?”
I enjoy this too. Her freak out. And you would. He’s always doing this crap without telling her. Sometimes she just goes with it, but she can’t, not in this situation. And Jane knows it.
Jane took a deep breath. He’d expected this, even as he’d hoped for another minute or two before he had to explain. This is what came of carrying out a plan backwards. And the original plan of tour, dinner, and then much later, seduction, had been flipped on its head. “I put your clothes in the washing machine not five minutes ago, after I got dinner started,” Jane assured her. “I thought you might appreciate it if they were clean. Don’t worry, I checked the washing instructions, and your blazer is fine. I hung it up in the closet.” Actually, he’d thrown her clothing in the washing in another attempt to make it difficult for her to leave, but he wasn’t going to tell her that. He’d half-expected her to try and practically fly out of the house the second she woke. The fact that she hadn’t made him hopeful.
Much as he enjoyed the revised plan, he knows that he has to be careful here, because she might panic. So he is crafty, crafty Jane.
Of course, not knowing where she was may have had something to do with that too.
And he’d wanted to make her dinner. It just seemed like the right thing to do at the time, and it would give him the opportunity to explain.
Okay, really he’d just wanted to make her dinner.
He wanted to romance her a little. Just to see her face when he did it.
Still, it had just about killed him to leave her alone in bed earlier.
xxxxx
Jane had woken first. He suspected it was a combination of his insomnia, and the fact that Lisbon always pushed herself so hard during a case that she always crashed afterwards, completely exhausted.
Whatever the reason, Jane was grateful for it.
Because it meant he got to wake up with Teresa Lisbon pressed up against him, sleeping soundly.
Jane shifted slightly closer to her (not an easy task given their current position) and resisted the urge to tighten the arm wrapped around her waist draw patterns along her stomach; it might wake her.
She probably needed the rest.
And this way he got to watch her, her face mostly obscured by her hair and he pillow, her breathing deep and even. This was Teresa Lisbon completely relaxed. With him. His arm did tighten slightly around her waist then, but she didn’t even stir.
His brain flashed back to earlier in the afternoon. It was one of those times he was particularly glad that his memory was so good. He never wanted to forget a minute of Teresa Lisbon struggling to divest him of his clothing, or running her fingers through his hair, or trailing kisses along shoulder. The way she’d shuddered beneath him, the way she’d whispered his name, or cried out, unable to stop herself.
But most of all, her eyes. He never wanted to forget her eyes.
He wanted to see them as they’d been, again and again and again.
And...
And he wanted to wake her.
He wanted to roll her over and kiss her until she sighed and trailed a hand up his back and tangled it in his hair like she had only an hour or so earlier.
But he didn’t wake her. He wanted to do things better than that with her. And this wasn’t just about the sex, though that was fantastic. This was about him wanting her, and wanting something permanent.
Besides, after handcuffing her with her own handcuffs, he figured he at least owed her dinner.
It was time to really resurrect the original plan.
Jane disentangled himself from her body and slid out of bed as quietly as possible, pleased when she barely stirred.
Still, before grabbing her clothing and tiptoeing out of the room, he couldn’t resist placing a single kiss to her shoulder.
Because she was beautiful.
And she was in his bed.
And that was an irresistible combination.
xx
Yeah, I don’t think I can possibly be expected to comment on the sections of this fic where they sleep together. So I’m not. Because I have no idea what to say. So ha.
Moving on, here we are, the reason for the fic.
“You’re in a modest bungalow a few miles northeast of the CBI building, as to who owns it, well, it’s mine,” Jane explained calmly. “Welcome to my house Teresa.”
“Yours?” Lisbon interrupted in shock.
“Yeah,” Jane acknowledged. “Now, as to the rest, that’s more complicated. I did want to talk to you in the park, but then I got distracted...”
“Never mind all that right now,” Lisbon said quickly. The stupid handcuffs could wait until later. This was more important. “What do you mean this is your house?”
I love how she suddenly doesn’t care about the rest of it, because this is so much more important to her. This is huge, actually. Jane has gotten himself a permanent home in Sacramento after all.
Jane shifted uncomfortably. “I mean, I bought it,” he said. “I figured I should have somewhere more permanent to live in Sacramento since I’m obviously going to be sticking around. And I was getting sick of the motel. The house in Malibu is too far, and anyway, there’s too much... it’s not... Having two houses isn’t really practical... and I sold it.”
If the revelation that Jane had bought a house was surprising, that was an absolute shocker for Lisbon. “What?”
“Not long after I bought this one,” Jane admitted.
“You sold...” she murmured, placing a hand to her head. “Jane...”
“It was time, Teresa,” he said, his voice low.
She met his eyes and he saw understanding. “How do you feel about it?” she asked softly.
Because she knows about the house, and why he’s kept it.
“Good, surprisingly good actually,” he admitted. It was a mixture of pleasure and pain of course, but overall, getting rid of the room with the sinister smile on the wall felt like releasing a weight from around his neck.
“Oh,” Lisbon said, feeling a bit stupid. But she couldn’t think of a single other thing to say.
“Yeah.”
Lisbon shook her head, trying to clear it. “I can’t believe you bought a house and didn’t tell me!” she said eventually. Only Jane would buy major real estate and not mention it to his colleagues.
True. After all, it is something that usually comes up in conversation.
“I wanted it to be a surprise,” Jane explained.
“Oh, it’s definitely that,” she assured him, turning the idea over in her mind.
“I was also going to wait until some little renovations were done,” Jane continued, feeling the need to justify himself to her. “But then I couldn’t and I just... I wanted to show someone.”
That got Lisbon’s attention. “Wait, you haven’t shown anyone? Nobody knows?”
“Apart from the workmen,” Jane admitted with a shrug. Then he met her eyes. “I wanted you to be first.”
Because she is special. Best Friends.
He watched those eyes soften. “You really bought a house?” she asked hopefully.
“Just look around you, Lisbon,” Jane said with a smirk. “This isn’t a mirage. I can give you the tour after dinner if you’d like.”
“Oh, you don’t have to do that,” she assured him quickly. She didn’t want to put him out, especially if he didn’t feel like the house was quite ready.
“Oh,” Jane said softly, glancing away, his face falling. Lisbon suddenly realized how much he’d wanted to show her around. Probably wanted to show off his new possessions. And she’d shot him down.
And now she’s accidentally hurt his feelings trying to be considerate. He wanted to show it all to her. After all, he hasn’t bought much of anything in a while.
She set down her wine and walked to the other side of the island, placing a hand on his arm. “I’d love to see it Jane, Patrick,” she said with a swallow. “I really would. I didn’t want to impose, or make you feel like you had to, especially if things aren’t quite the way you want them yet.”
His face lit up immediately and he wrapped an arm around her waist. “After dinner,” he promised.
“Okay,” she agreed with another shy smile.
Then he frowned.
“What is it?” Lisbon asked.
“I want you to impose,” he admitted slowly, running a hand through her hair. “I want... I want,” he said huskily, watching her eyes widen and hope spark up. “Oh, Teresa,” he whispered, letting his forehead fall on her shoulder and nuzzling her neck.
And here we go, the conversation they actually need to have.
“You really bought a house?” Lisbon whispered.
“Yes,” he murmured against her neck. “I wanted to bring you here, and make you dinner, and talk... and then maybe... But things got all turned around. I wanted everything to be finished. But then you went out to dinner with that ass of a lawyer...”
He’s trying to explain the little freakout in a way that doesn’t make him sound just the slightest bit foolish, or like a jealous idiot, or something. Good luck with you there Jane.
“Oh, he was perfectly nice,” Lisbon replied without thinking. Completely distracted, she arched against Jane, craving contact.
And as I said, Mr. Lawyer Dude doesn’t really enter into things for Lisbon.
But her remark caught her consultant’s attention. “What?” he growled, stopping his gentle ministrations and all but shoving her against the island.
“He wasn’t that bad,” Lisbon said slowly, a bit thrown by the sudden shift in Jane’s mood.
“He was a useless, personality-less pipsqueak,” Jane growled back, angling her closer against the counter.
And he spoiled Jane’s grand romantic plans, so he will always be the enemy in Patrick Jane’s eyes. First the jerkface tried to steal his Lisbon, then he upset Jane’s grand plan. Clearly to be hated until the end of time. Clearly.
Lisbon’s eyes widened as she watched his darken. And then it hit her like a thunderbolt. Patrick Jane was jealous. She remembered him mentioning that he’d wanted to make her dinner, when everything was supposed to have been ready. She remembered the ridiculous insults and anger directed towards her date (and it had only been one date). And she remembered the way Jane had been watching her for the last week or so... He’d been planning... something where she was concerned. Then those plans had been upset. She remembered his agitation, his apparently irrational behaviour. Finally, she remembered the way his voice shook and his hands trembled against her the night before. He’d claimed he’d wanted to break her control, but Lisbon suddenly realized that maybe she’d broken his long before he’d slapped the handcuffs around her wrists.
She gave a startled little gasp. Then she threw herself at him.
Wrapping her arms around his neck, she practically attacked his lips with her own.
Because the fact that he’s lost control a little too makes everything just that much better. It’s not just her, and him being, well, him, and manipulating everything. Things are a little more even than that. (I am big on things being equal. I can’t help it...)
Jane was originally carried a half a step backwards by her momentum and his own surprise, but a split second later his hands were at her waist as he hummed in surprise. He wasn’t entirely sure what had prompted her sudden change in demeanour, but he did know that he really didn’t care. A Teresa Lisbon throwing herself into his arms would always be welcome as far as he was concerned. Always. He trailed a hand lazily up and down her spine just the way she liked it, pleased when he heard her purr against him.
If Jane had known insulting lawyer-boy would get him this, well, he’d come up some doozies in the past week. Maybe he should share some of the others with her. That’s when Jane had his own little epiphany, and he grinned against her lips. Teresa Lisbon didn’t care one way or the other about the insult. She’d finally recognized his jealousy. He would have been embarrassed (probably should have been embarrassed), but since she clearly liked that he felt strongly enough to be jealous, Jane decided to use it.
And he realized something else, realized there was something very important that she apparently didn’t know. Placing a quick kiss on her lips he pulled back slightly, all the while angling her further back against the counter. “I want you,” he said his voice hot.
He knew he’d guessed correctly as he watched her eyes darken, her breathing accelerate and her arms slide farther around his neck.
“No more lawyers,” he demanded, pushing her farther against the counter, and dropping his lips to her throat again.
He felt her hand tighten in his hair as she held him in place. “I don’t know,” she murmured. “I was thinking we could be friends... He is new in town after all...”
Because now that she knows, now that she’s pretty sure this was actually something important, it’s easier to tease about the ridiculous jealousy. Because it is a bit funny. And it’s probably deserved anyway.
Now the little temptress was provoking him. Jane nearly laughed. “You can have as many friends as you like Teresa Lisbon,” he told her with a grin. “But I’m the only one who gets to do this,” he hissed, starting at her collar bone and nuzzling his way up.
“Hmmm,” Lisbon hummed when he hit the juncture of jaw-line and ear. “I’ll have to think about your offer.”
This time Jane did laugh. “Like hell you will,” he said, his eyes twinkling into hers. He gently tipped her chin up with one finger and kissed her more thoroughly.
Because they’d never just go with it. They’ll spar forever. AND IT WILL BE CHARMING. Banter is cannon.
They were distracted several minutes later by the rattling lid of a pot whose water had started to boil.
Lisbon giggled as Jane cursed under his breath and turned back towards his neglected cooking. Lucky he’d picked something simple.
“Oh, think this is funny do you?” he asked over his shoulder.
She nodded smugly. “Can I help with anything?”
One corner of his mouth turned up in an almost boyish smile. “No,” he said firmly. “I am making you dinner, so you,” He explained taking her arm and leading her back around the island. “Can sit down on this stool, drink your wine and keep me company.”
She always takes care of everyone, and he wants to do nice things for her and take care of her. HE DOES. Charming I tell you.
Lisbon rolled her eyes. “Can I?” she asked rhetorically.
Jane nodded. “And I think it’s best if you stay on that side of the island, just until the actual cooking is done. Wouldn’t you agree?”
That earned him a genuine smile as Lisbon did as he asked and settled onto her stool, smirking superiorly at him the entire time. “Will you at least tell me what we’re having?” she asked.
Jane shrugged. “Well, given that we just got back from a case I had to improvise with what was in my cupboards.”
“Can’t possibly be as bad as what’s usually in mine,” Lisbon interrupted.
Jane smirked. “Or not in yours,” he corrected. “Well, anyway, it’s still not what I wanted to make you, but I thought spaghetti and tomato sauce, if you’ve no objections.”
“No,” Lisbon said with a shake of her head, as she took a sip of her wine. “That sounds lovely,” she admitted. Jane was actually cooking her dinner. She’d figured that was what he was doing when she’d smelled food in the bedroom, but this was... She was wearing his clothes and he was cooking her dinner. No one had cooked her dinner other than one of her own brothers in years, and even that was rare. Sure, she’d been wined and dined at fancy restaurants before, but sitting in Jane’s kitchen drinking a glass of wine in sweatpants was different, cozier.
It’s personal. And although I’m sure Lisbon dates casually, I am perfectly willing to believe that she hasn’t had anything really genuinely intimate in a while.
Jane wanted her. And obviously not in a one-night stand, or even a casual fling kind of a way. He was wining and dining her. Okay, it was unorthodox to say the least, and had involved kidnapping and handcuffs, but still. It was romantic. She... she genuinely wasn’t quite sure what it meant.
If it meant she could have the Jane who bought her flowers to apologize and dragged her to movies when she needed a break and this Jane who seduced her and made her dinner.... Well, that might be okay. Maybe. She hadn’t been in a genuine relationship in god only knows how long. Oh she dated from time to time (and less frequently now than she used to), but it never seemed to feel quite right.
It *might* be okay. She’s in denial a little bit here, not quite ready to admit that she’d really like that quite a bit. Give her time. She’s only had a few hours to get used to it.
And this... this was Jane. It was crazy.
But it didn’t feel wrong.
Key. It’s insane, and ludicrous, and all sorts of things. But it’s also right. (I just want them to be happy... Why is show stupid about that most of the time?)
“Something wrong?” Jane asked, in an odd parody of her thoughts.
Lisbon looked up, and shook her head.
He frowned. “Come on, Teresa. I know you better than that.”
She shrugged. “Just trying to remember the last time someone made me dinner,” she said eventually. “It was so long ago I’m not sure I can remember.”
She tells him part of the truth, and he infers the rest of it. And then shares right back.
“Probably about the last time I made someone dinner,” Jane admitted softly.
Her fingers tightened around her wineglass. Oh. “Oh,” she said inadequately.
Jane walked over with two plates. “Yeah,” he said. “Well, for better or worse it’s ready. Hope you enjoy it. Sorry it’s not...”
“It’s perfect,” Lisbon said quickly. It was perfect. It was better than a gourmet meal, with all the fuss and planning. This was Jane throwing something together after a particularly bad week, because he wanted to have a meal with her.
I wanted to make it real, despite all the handcuff-related manipulation. I wanted it to end up somewhere genuine.
Why did this keep feeling like it might work? They were both going to be absolutely terrible at this, for different reasons.
“You sure?” Jane asked, setting the plates down and wiping his hands. He really had wanted to make something a little more ambitious than spaghetti.
The second his hands were free Lisbon kissed him.
Because she doesn’t want the fuss of ambitious right now. She prefers that it’s not all planned and perfect. I think it puts her more at ease.
After a few seconds she pulled away, and sat down demurely on the chair he’d pulled out for her earlier.
“Aren’t you going to sit down Patrick?” she asked innocently.
Jane blinked at her for a moment. “Of course,” he said, pulling out his own chair.
Lisbon took a moment to appreciate the smell of the spaghetti. “I’m starving,” she admitted. “And I definitely wouldn’t have been making anything like this for myself.”
“Soup or take out?” Jane asked. He knew her eating habits.
Because she can cook, but I have no trouble believing that she often doesn’t.
She shrugged. “Probably soup,” she admitted. “It was a long case.”
“Yeah,” Jane admitted.
Lisbon frowned for a second. “But I don’t want to talk about that right now,” she exclaimed suddenly. She didn’t want to ruin their meal with death and tragedy. She deserved a reprieve. They both did. “Let’s talk about something else. What did you want to talk to me about earlier?” she asked.
“When?” Jane wondered.
“In the car,” she clarified. “Before...”
“It’s kind of a moot point now,” Jane deflected.
It kind of is. “DATE ME, not the namby-pamby lawyer” loses some of its relevance after you sleep with someone and then make them a romantic dinner.
“Jane...” she said in warning.
“I’ll tell you later,” he promised. “After dinner.”
“So what are we going to talk about now then?” Lisbon asked with a laugh.
“What would you like to talk about?” he wondered.
She smiled, inspiration suddenly striking. “Tell me about buying this house,” she ordered.
Because she knows he wants to. She knows he’s excited. And she wants to see it.
Jane smiled back, pleased, and only too happy to comply.
xxxxx
After dinner, Jane grabbed the plates, rinsed them and put them in the dishwasher. Then he poured them both more wine. At her frown he sighed, “It’s your third in almost as many hours, Lisbon,” he reminded her. “But if you like, we can switch to water.”
After a moment she relaxed her shoulders and shook her head gently. “No,” she said. “It’s fine. And it’d be a shame to let good wine go to waste.”
Plus she has no intention of going home tonight... WHAT? She doesn’t. She knows that at this point, even if he’s less certain. He knows he doesn’t want her to go...
“Do you want any desert?” he asked.
“You have desert?” she asked in surprise. He raised an eyebrow in question. “I thought this was a little more un-planned than that,” she admitted.
Jane shrugged. “It was,” he admitted. “But there’s still Mayan chocolate ice cream in the freezer.” He’d bought it on a whim when he saw it in the grocery store a week ago. He’d been thinking of her.
Mayan chocolate ice cream, best thing ever. Chocolate and cinnamon doesn’t sound like it’d be good together, but oh, SO GOOD. I have some in my freezer right now.
Lisbon froze. “I was going to have that on my couch tonight,” she admitted.
Jane smirked. He’d known it was her favourite. “I’ll get the bowls.”
“No,” she said, grabbing his arm to stop him. “Not right now. I’m too full. Maybe later.”
Jane agreed, his smile suddenly excited. “Alright! Then how about a tour?”
She couldn’t help laughing at his enthusiasm.
xxxxx
And that’s it for this chapter. One more to go.
But yeah, two major issues in this fic: 1) How on earth did Jane manage to handcuff Lisbon in the first place (the minor issue) and 2) Writing this bit.
Because I don’t write mature fic, and this skirts the edges of that. And guys, writing romance in any kind of a genuine way can be hard. So there was a little mini-freakout before this chapter. But it’s fine now.
xxxxx
Chapter 5
xxxxx
It was the clang that woke her, she was sure of it.
I like this opening line. Don’t know why.
Someone had made some sort of godforsaken noise for who knows what reason.
Oh! Word I am fond of, godforsaken. It’s just all antique-y and fun.
Lisbon tried to burrow deeper into the pillow to block out the racket, sighing into the sheets.
The very high thread-count sheets. The sheets that felt like higher quality than the ones she’d tossed on her own bed the weekend before.
Her eyes popped open.
Oh right.
She wasn’t in her bed. She wasn’t at home. She was... Where the hell was she?
Where exactly had Jane taken her?
Now that Lisbon thought about it, she didn’t remember him mentioning... Although, she didn’t remember him saying much of anything after a certain point.
Yeah, they kind of skipped over the conversation they should have had, the one Jane had originally planned on having. So basically, they skip over all the practicalities and go straight to challenging each other.
There’d been a lot more nonverbal communication.
After he’d kissed her the first time.
And then...
Memories of the previous few hours started resurfacing, the way he’d touched her, kissed her, loved her. She’d always figured he’d be good (and yeah, she absolutely had thought about it, not only because of his particular skill set, but because she was attracted to him and she spent large portions of every day standing right next to him). Still, she hadn’t ever expected him to be quite so... romantic about it. She’d expected the intensity, the trembling, the almost overwhelming emotional release. But she’d thought he’d be more controlled, almost calculating. He’d certainly been assertive (Lisbon paused to feel for a bruise on her shoulder from when Jane had accidentally knocked her into a doorway on their way to the bedroom). But she hadn’t been expecting the look in his eyes when he’d finally gotten her shirt off or the way ‘dear’ had changed to ‘dearest’ before he finally lapsed into simply whispering her name over and over again.
Oh god, she’d slept with her consultant. She’d slept with Patrick Jane.
Oh god.
It was all his fault.
After all, he’d started it. He’d kissed her first.
Yeah, she freaks out a little. This isn’t surprising. She doesn’t really know what Jane wants at this point. I mean, I think part of her suspects, but the method of seduction doesn’t lead one to think he’s looking for a relationship per se.
xxxxx
Hours earlier
xx
More time jumps. This story might have more time jumps in it than anything else I’ve ever written come to think of it.
This was the other issue. I wasn’t sure how to set this up timeline was. I almost did it chronologically, but I wanted to start with Lisbon waking up alone, so there had to be at least one time jump. And then I wanted elements of both POVs, so that brought more. Yeah, this chapter was a bit of a mess in my head. Usually I have more of an internal plan before I write, even if I’m not much of a planner. I don’t spend months planning, just general ideas then I write. But yeah, this was just, problematic.
Almost immediately after giving him tacit permission to kiss her, Lisbon felt Jane’s hands tangle in her hair. But that hardly seemed important considering what his lips were currently doing.
All of a sudden she didn’t care about any of it anymore, the stupid argument (whatever it was about), the fact that Jane could be the most annoying man on the planet, the fact that he’d apparently woken up one morning and randomly decided to seduce her. She. Did. Not. Care. She wanted him. She hadn’t admitted to herself how much until that moment. But the man was constantly tying her up in knots and now she desperately them untied, and she wanted him to do it. She started to unbutton his vest, trying to bury her hands underneath it, or wrap them around his neck, or something. But she couldn’t because the damn handcuffs were in the way. She struggled against her bonds, groaning in irritation.
I like this idea, of him finally pushing her to far and she just snaps. Just gives in, because she’s so sick of controlling everything. This is really the central issue of this fic. It’s all about control, and having someone know you well enough that they know when to break it. And knowing that when they do it, they aren’t going to hurt you.
It took a minute for her frustration to register with Jane (he’d been too busy exploring her neck again). But as soon as it did, he had her wrists gently clasped in one hand while he fished the key to her handcuffs out of one of his multitude of pockets with the other. If Lisbon wanted her hands free to explore, she could have them free (he’d take the risk of getting punched in the face. It was more than worth it.).
This was the other thing. I didn’t want to keep her in the handcuffs. I didn’t want this to be unequal in that way. They’re going to keep challenging each other, baiting each other, but I didn’t want her at such an obvious physical disadvantage. I just, didn’t.
Lisbon was pretty sure her arms were around his neck before the cuffs hit the ground. He somehow managed to push her jacket off her shoulders at the same time. She wasn’t sure how. But again, she didn’t care; she was too busy running her hands along his shoulders, trying to push his jacket off. When Jane removed an arm from around her waist to shake the offending piece of clothing to the floor she’d taken advantage of his distraction to kiss him.
Take control a little.
She doesn’t need to be in control of everything (and she isn’t, for example where they’re going), but she’s not completely passive either.
She’d needed him closer, so much closer. She’s pretty sure that his moaned “Teresa,” meant that he was okay with that.
After he’d finally shed the damn jacket, Jane’s hands found her waist again and he’d started manoeuvring her across the room and down a hallway.
Lisbon wasn’t paying too much attention to the direction they were moving. She was occupied with the buttons on his vest.
That was when Jane had accidentally shoved her into a doorway.
Lisbon remembered he’d whispered sorry.
She was pretty sure she told him to shut up.
I enjoy this exchange. It just seems like so them to me.
None of that seemed to matter so much because she’d finally gotten the final layer of his shirt unbuttoned, and a few seconds later she felt her knees hit the back of the bed.
And she’d simply let herself fall back.
xxxxx
Now she was lying in that same bed. Alone.
She had no idea what was going on, what Jane was thinking, or what he wanted.
She was sure his intentions weren’t malicious, or cruel. But...
But he had seduced her almost out of the blue, and he hadn’t given her much of an indication what his future plans were. Was this intended to be a sort of a one-night stand, just one-time thing? There were elements of the afternoon that had seemed particularly unplanned, even by Jane standards. Or maybe it was all because he hadn’t been with a woman in a while and everything had all of a sudden sort of boiled over for him. She was the dominant female in his life. Maybe he’d just kissed her without considering the consequences. He didn’t think about the consequences a lot of the time.
It’s out of the blue for her, not for him. Problem. But he’ll explain soon, and it’ll all be good.
Except... except that struck Lisbon as rather careless, even for Jane, who admittedly could be careless.
And some of the things he’d said to her, about what kind of man she wanted, about her dinner date last week, they made Lisbon think that Jane maybe had been thinking about things for a while. Or at least longer than two hours.
She’s starting to put the pieces together, a little.
So maybe this was something a little more than casual sex.
Although, that still didn’t mean that Jane knew what he wanted from her.
Did he want a relationship? (Did she?) He was apparently making her dinner after all... Except that she hadn’t ever thought Jane was anywhere near ready to date again. Maybe he never would be. Maybe he was just making her dinner because he’d tricked her into coming here and she was his friend. Was he thinking about some sort of friends with benefits arrangement? Was this just a release of tension?
She had no friggin’ clue.
She didn’t even know where she was for heaven’s sakes.
Lisbon sat up and glanced around the bedroom, making sure the sheets were firmly wrapped around her. It was obviously a bedroom that had been lived in, and a male bedroom at that. The colour scheme was mostly deep blues with hints of greens. It was nice enough, better decorated than her own apartment in some ways, though it still felt a bit like it was settling in somehow.
She could poke around more, but given that she wasn’t sure where she was, that seemed like a bad idea. And anyway, where were her clothes?
She didn’t see them anywhere, and she was certain that most of them hadn’t been removed until the two of them had reached the bedroom.
Which meant Jane had collected them and taken them somewhere.
Which in turn meant she was kind of stuck. Swell.
That was when Lisbon noticed the clothes folded on the chair by the wall (her gun and badge on the table beside it where she vaguely remembered putting them earlier). It looked like a t-shirt and sweatpants.
The intention was unmistakeable. If she had the courage for it.
Lisbon dropped back against the pillow.
Apparently she had two options. She could get out of bed, put on the offered clothing and go get some answers, or she could bury herself in the blankets and hide from the world a little longer. She wasn’t going to lie; she was definitely leaning towards option B (especially since Jane really did have excellent taste in bedding). She pulled the comforter up over her head.
As a situation it certainly has the potential to be awkward, given all the unknowns, certainly. But Teresa Lisbon isn’t one to run from a challenge, for all that she’s good at denial.
Only to throw it back thirty seconds later.
She was Teresa Lisbon and she didn’t hide from anyone. She confronted violent criminals on a near-weekly basis; she could certainly deal with Patrick Jane. Especially since she could really smell dinner cooking now, and she hadn’t eaten since eleven that morning.
Plus she’s hungry, food does tend to improve people’s mood.
Before she could change her mind, Lisbon practically jumped from the bed and tossed the t-shirt over her head. It came to about three inches above her knees. She briefly considered whether the pants were even necessary, given that they’d inevitably also be several sizes too big. But she didn’t like the implications of that for any number of reasons. So she pulled the sweatpants on, pleased when she realized they had a drawstring waist and elastics around the ankles, and so weren’t as insanely huge as she’d otherwise feared.
Lisbon let herself snuggle briefly into the softness of the clothing, appreciating the familiarity of the faint smell of Jane’s cologne mixed with his laundry detergent. Then she realized she was acting like a high school student burrowing into her boyfriend’s sweater, and she was no high school student, and Jane wasn’t her boyfriend. And...
And part of her wished Jane would just suddenly appear in the doorway and forcefully (now that she knew just how forceful he could be) rip the t-shirt off again before tipping her back into bed and making her forget about the whole mess for a little while longer.
Except that dinner smelled really good.
Jane was cooking her dinner?
Lisbon’s heart thudded in her chest as she padded out of the bedroom, in the direction she assumed the kitchen was.
She was mainly going by smell. She’d been a bit distracted earlier, and Jane definitely hadn’t given her a formal tour.
He’d been far more interested in exploring her.
xxxxx
So, apparently the fact that they slept together was unexpected to people. I don’t find it so, but then, this was always my intention. I don’t know. It was always the point. They break each other’s control, and it just happens because they both want it, and they’re in no frame of mind to stop it. I think it makes perfect sense. Don’t get me wrong, most people like the progression of events, but they find it surprising, which surprises me, because I find it almost obvious. Obvious isn’t the right word, but I can’t think of a better one.
Lisbon had never been a particularly tactile person. She’d never really been one for touching other people. Other than tackling the suspects or shoving them into walls obviously. But she didn’t usually touch her friends, or her team.
She knew that she could be a bit stand-offish and that was fine. She just didn’t think a person needed to invade another’s personal space to show affection.
Maybe it was because she’d seen what the wrong kind of touch could do. Maybe she was reading too much into it.
She just wasn’t all that touchy-feely.
Jane was. Had been right from the start.
Although, Jane tends to touch in an impersonal kind of a way.
Even during their first year working together (oh, that first year - Lisbon could barely think about it without shuddering). Jane had constantly been touching her, taking her pulse to gauge her mood or just establish a baseline, a finger brushing along her arm to get her attention, grabbing her wrist to check the time on her watch, removing fluff from her suit, or leaves from her hair (after a bit of a messy tackle in a national park).
He was just tactile; it was how he operated.
It had driven her crazy.
Especially since he never seemed to do it quite as much with anyone else. She’d always figured her obvious discomfort at being touched amused him.
I can see this. Him touching her more because he’s always around her, but also because he knows it drives her crazy, but she’ll also allow it to a certain extent. So somewhere along the way all the little touches became habit, became part of who they were with each other. Because his relationship with her has always been different from with anyone else, whatever you think that relationship is exactly. He treats her differently.
And it didn’t matter how many times she snapped at him for touching her without warning, or yanked her arm away from him, he still did it.
Somewhere down the line she just stopped fighting. She got used to a hand on the small of her back as he led her out the door, to the way his fingers brushed against her pulse-point whenever she tried to hand him anything, to Jane taking all sorts of small physical liberties she never would have even considered allowing from anyone else.
But with Jane eventually it just seemed normal.
And somewhere along the way, with all those seemingly innocent brushes and strokes, he’d learned just how she’d liked to be touched. Not all the details of course, those he’d still needed to discover (and he’d definitely made a thorough beginning of it). But the general outline he’d already had memorized. The way he’d trailed his hands up her spine, or his lips down her neck, or his fingers across her hip, or his tongue...
He’d played her like an instrument he’d started learning long ago.
But oddly enough, some of the best moments had been when he’d accidentally hit a note that was ever-so-slightly off-key. When his hands had trembled against her skin, or his breath had stuttered, or especially when she’d distracted his hands from reaching their goal using her own
And in the end he’d made her want to become tactile, to learn to play him better (she knew a little, but not enough, not nearly enough).
He may have had a head start, but she was a fast learner.
And she was dying to catch up.
Given the opportunity of course.
But yeah, touch is also important in this fic. Because Lisbon doesn’t touch people much, and Jane touches her all of the time. And she has touched him to comfort him before. (Red John’s Friends anyone? Guh. That scene at the end.)
xxxxx
Jane heard her when she got to the kitchen doorway.
He turned from the stove where he was trying to get his spaghetti sauce to cooperate; he’d made a few substitutions for ingredients and he was worried it wouldn’t turn out that well. But none of that seemed to matter quite as much anymore.
He smiled at her.
He’d been hoping she’d sleep a little longer, just so he could have the pleasure of waking her up again himself (he’d had several ideas about how to do that). But he found he didn’t really mind her beating him to the punch.
Wearing clothes several sizes too big for her, with her hair tousled and her cheeks flushed, Lisbon was one of the loveliest things he’d ever seen. Even if she did look a little uncertain (he could appreciate that; he’d been feeling a little uncertain himself up until about ten seconds ago, before she’d padded through the doorway).
Lisbon returned his smile shyly. She couldn’t help it. She’d defy any woman to keep a stern expression on their face when confronted with Patrick Jane looking casual in plaid pyjama pants and a t-shirt genuinely beaming at them.
Because they’re far more nervous when they’re alone and analyzing things. When they’re together, well, there’s familiarity. And the fact that they kind of can’t help being happy (particularly Jane, which rubs off on her). And anyway, he’s said that he tends to be happier when she’s happy. The principle holds. So there.
(I should point out before this section starts, that when I’m writing fic like this, my brain basically starts filling in the major events going, OH, and then Jane will do this, and it will be CHARMING. And then Lisbon will do this and CHARMING. And ADORABLE. And then they will be happy, because that is how this is GOING TO WORK. This is where incurable romantic kinda comes into play...)
Jane wiped his hands on a tea towel and manoeuvred around the island to meet her. “You’re up,” he murmured, sliding a hand along her waist, and placing a kiss near her temple.
“Mmhm,” Lisbon agreed, allowing herself to relax against him. “I assume you left these out for me,” she added, gesturing to her ensemble.
“Of course I did. I was just going to wake you in a minute. Dinner’s almost ready,” he explained.
“Dinner?” Lisbon asked softly.
Because acknowledging that Jane is making you dinner is a little different then walking into his kitchen and seeing him doing it. Someone described this in a review as them playing house, and it really is.
“Mmhm,” he hummed. “Would you like a glass of wine? I’ve got a nice red?”
Lisbon blinked, “Sure.” A little alcohol sounded like an excellent idea all of a sudden.
Jane flashed her another smile and spun around the island, grabbing a couple of wine glasses from the cupboard and a bottle from the counter, which Lisbon couldn’t help noticing was already open. She didn’t comment, just took the glass he offered her a few seconds later.
She took a sip immediately, more to keep her mouth busy than anything else. She couldn’t think of a single thing to say. Damn Jane for acting so normal. There were times when the man should really just be taken outside and shot.
“Do you like the wine?” Jane murmured. “It’s from...”
He’s trying to put her at ease, he really is, but...
“I don’t care where it’s from!” Lisbon exploded suddenly. She couldn’t do this. Couldn’t pretend that this was normal, that... that it was just another meal with her consultant, who actually looked vaguely startled by her outburst. She didn’t care. “What is this Jane? What are we doing? What do you want? I mean, you said you wanted to talk to me. Or was that all just pretence so you could handcuff me and then...” Lisbon swallowed and trailed off. “Anyway, I have no idea what’s going on. I don’t know where my clothes are. I have no idea where I even am! You haven’t told me a damn thing. You’re just standing there making dinner like nothing’s out of place. Whose house is this even?”
I enjoy this too. Her freak out. And you would. He’s always doing this crap without telling her. Sometimes she just goes with it, but she can’t, not in this situation. And Jane knows it.
Jane took a deep breath. He’d expected this, even as he’d hoped for another minute or two before he had to explain. This is what came of carrying out a plan backwards. And the original plan of tour, dinner, and then much later, seduction, had been flipped on its head. “I put your clothes in the washing machine not five minutes ago, after I got dinner started,” Jane assured her. “I thought you might appreciate it if they were clean. Don’t worry, I checked the washing instructions, and your blazer is fine. I hung it up in the closet.” Actually, he’d thrown her clothing in the washing in another attempt to make it difficult for her to leave, but he wasn’t going to tell her that. He’d half-expected her to try and practically fly out of the house the second she woke. The fact that she hadn’t made him hopeful.
Much as he enjoyed the revised plan, he knows that he has to be careful here, because she might panic. So he is crafty, crafty Jane.
Of course, not knowing where she was may have had something to do with that too.
And he’d wanted to make her dinner. It just seemed like the right thing to do at the time, and it would give him the opportunity to explain.
Okay, really he’d just wanted to make her dinner.
He wanted to romance her a little. Just to see her face when he did it.
Still, it had just about killed him to leave her alone in bed earlier.
xxxxx
Jane had woken first. He suspected it was a combination of his insomnia, and the fact that Lisbon always pushed herself so hard during a case that she always crashed afterwards, completely exhausted.
Whatever the reason, Jane was grateful for it.
Because it meant he got to wake up with Teresa Lisbon pressed up against him, sleeping soundly.
Jane shifted slightly closer to her (not an easy task given their current position) and resisted the urge to tighten the arm wrapped around her waist draw patterns along her stomach; it might wake her.
She probably needed the rest.
And this way he got to watch her, her face mostly obscured by her hair and he pillow, her breathing deep and even. This was Teresa Lisbon completely relaxed. With him. His arm did tighten slightly around her waist then, but she didn’t even stir.
His brain flashed back to earlier in the afternoon. It was one of those times he was particularly glad that his memory was so good. He never wanted to forget a minute of Teresa Lisbon struggling to divest him of his clothing, or running her fingers through his hair, or trailing kisses along shoulder. The way she’d shuddered beneath him, the way she’d whispered his name, or cried out, unable to stop herself.
But most of all, her eyes. He never wanted to forget her eyes.
He wanted to see them as they’d been, again and again and again.
And...
And he wanted to wake her.
He wanted to roll her over and kiss her until she sighed and trailed a hand up his back and tangled it in his hair like she had only an hour or so earlier.
But he didn’t wake her. He wanted to do things better than that with her. And this wasn’t just about the sex, though that was fantastic. This was about him wanting her, and wanting something permanent.
Besides, after handcuffing her with her own handcuffs, he figured he at least owed her dinner.
It was time to really resurrect the original plan.
Jane disentangled himself from her body and slid out of bed as quietly as possible, pleased when she barely stirred.
Still, before grabbing her clothing and tiptoeing out of the room, he couldn’t resist placing a single kiss to her shoulder.
Because she was beautiful.
And she was in his bed.
And that was an irresistible combination.
xx
Yeah, I don’t think I can possibly be expected to comment on the sections of this fic where they sleep together. So I’m not. Because I have no idea what to say. So ha.
Moving on, here we are, the reason for the fic.
“You’re in a modest bungalow a few miles northeast of the CBI building, as to who owns it, well, it’s mine,” Jane explained calmly. “Welcome to my house Teresa.”
“Yours?” Lisbon interrupted in shock.
“Yeah,” Jane acknowledged. “Now, as to the rest, that’s more complicated. I did want to talk to you in the park, but then I got distracted...”
“Never mind all that right now,” Lisbon said quickly. The stupid handcuffs could wait until later. This was more important. “What do you mean this is your house?”
I love how she suddenly doesn’t care about the rest of it, because this is so much more important to her. This is huge, actually. Jane has gotten himself a permanent home in Sacramento after all.
Jane shifted uncomfortably. “I mean, I bought it,” he said. “I figured I should have somewhere more permanent to live in Sacramento since I’m obviously going to be sticking around. And I was getting sick of the motel. The house in Malibu is too far, and anyway, there’s too much... it’s not... Having two houses isn’t really practical... and I sold it.”
If the revelation that Jane had bought a house was surprising, that was an absolute shocker for Lisbon. “What?”
“Not long after I bought this one,” Jane admitted.
“You sold...” she murmured, placing a hand to her head. “Jane...”
“It was time, Teresa,” he said, his voice low.
She met his eyes and he saw understanding. “How do you feel about it?” she asked softly.
Because she knows about the house, and why he’s kept it.
“Good, surprisingly good actually,” he admitted. It was a mixture of pleasure and pain of course, but overall, getting rid of the room with the sinister smile on the wall felt like releasing a weight from around his neck.
“Oh,” Lisbon said, feeling a bit stupid. But she couldn’t think of a single other thing to say.
“Yeah.”
Lisbon shook her head, trying to clear it. “I can’t believe you bought a house and didn’t tell me!” she said eventually. Only Jane would buy major real estate and not mention it to his colleagues.
True. After all, it is something that usually comes up in conversation.
“I wanted it to be a surprise,” Jane explained.
“Oh, it’s definitely that,” she assured him, turning the idea over in her mind.
“I was also going to wait until some little renovations were done,” Jane continued, feeling the need to justify himself to her. “But then I couldn’t and I just... I wanted to show someone.”
That got Lisbon’s attention. “Wait, you haven’t shown anyone? Nobody knows?”
“Apart from the workmen,” Jane admitted with a shrug. Then he met her eyes. “I wanted you to be first.”
Because she is special. Best Friends.
He watched those eyes soften. “You really bought a house?” she asked hopefully.
“Just look around you, Lisbon,” Jane said with a smirk. “This isn’t a mirage. I can give you the tour after dinner if you’d like.”
“Oh, you don’t have to do that,” she assured him quickly. She didn’t want to put him out, especially if he didn’t feel like the house was quite ready.
“Oh,” Jane said softly, glancing away, his face falling. Lisbon suddenly realized how much he’d wanted to show her around. Probably wanted to show off his new possessions. And she’d shot him down.
And now she’s accidentally hurt his feelings trying to be considerate. He wanted to show it all to her. After all, he hasn’t bought much of anything in a while.
She set down her wine and walked to the other side of the island, placing a hand on his arm. “I’d love to see it Jane, Patrick,” she said with a swallow. “I really would. I didn’t want to impose, or make you feel like you had to, especially if things aren’t quite the way you want them yet.”
His face lit up immediately and he wrapped an arm around her waist. “After dinner,” he promised.
“Okay,” she agreed with another shy smile.
Then he frowned.
“What is it?” Lisbon asked.
“I want you to impose,” he admitted slowly, running a hand through her hair. “I want... I want,” he said huskily, watching her eyes widen and hope spark up. “Oh, Teresa,” he whispered, letting his forehead fall on her shoulder and nuzzling her neck.
And here we go, the conversation they actually need to have.
“You really bought a house?” Lisbon whispered.
“Yes,” he murmured against her neck. “I wanted to bring you here, and make you dinner, and talk... and then maybe... But things got all turned around. I wanted everything to be finished. But then you went out to dinner with that ass of a lawyer...”
He’s trying to explain the little freakout in a way that doesn’t make him sound just the slightest bit foolish, or like a jealous idiot, or something. Good luck with you there Jane.
“Oh, he was perfectly nice,” Lisbon replied without thinking. Completely distracted, she arched against Jane, craving contact.
And as I said, Mr. Lawyer Dude doesn’t really enter into things for Lisbon.
But her remark caught her consultant’s attention. “What?” he growled, stopping his gentle ministrations and all but shoving her against the island.
“He wasn’t that bad,” Lisbon said slowly, a bit thrown by the sudden shift in Jane’s mood.
“He was a useless, personality-less pipsqueak,” Jane growled back, angling her closer against the counter.
And he spoiled Jane’s grand romantic plans, so he will always be the enemy in Patrick Jane’s eyes. First the jerkface tried to steal his Lisbon, then he upset Jane’s grand plan. Clearly to be hated until the end of time. Clearly.
Lisbon’s eyes widened as she watched his darken. And then it hit her like a thunderbolt. Patrick Jane was jealous. She remembered him mentioning that he’d wanted to make her dinner, when everything was supposed to have been ready. She remembered the ridiculous insults and anger directed towards her date (and it had only been one date). And she remembered the way Jane had been watching her for the last week or so... He’d been planning... something where she was concerned. Then those plans had been upset. She remembered his agitation, his apparently irrational behaviour. Finally, she remembered the way his voice shook and his hands trembled against her the night before. He’d claimed he’d wanted to break her control, but Lisbon suddenly realized that maybe she’d broken his long before he’d slapped the handcuffs around her wrists.
She gave a startled little gasp. Then she threw herself at him.
Wrapping her arms around his neck, she practically attacked his lips with her own.
Because the fact that he’s lost control a little too makes everything just that much better. It’s not just her, and him being, well, him, and manipulating everything. Things are a little more even than that. (I am big on things being equal. I can’t help it...)
Jane was originally carried a half a step backwards by her momentum and his own surprise, but a split second later his hands were at her waist as he hummed in surprise. He wasn’t entirely sure what had prompted her sudden change in demeanour, but he did know that he really didn’t care. A Teresa Lisbon throwing herself into his arms would always be welcome as far as he was concerned. Always. He trailed a hand lazily up and down her spine just the way she liked it, pleased when he heard her purr against him.
If Jane had known insulting lawyer-boy would get him this, well, he’d come up some doozies in the past week. Maybe he should share some of the others with her. That’s when Jane had his own little epiphany, and he grinned against her lips. Teresa Lisbon didn’t care one way or the other about the insult. She’d finally recognized his jealousy. He would have been embarrassed (probably should have been embarrassed), but since she clearly liked that he felt strongly enough to be jealous, Jane decided to use it.
And he realized something else, realized there was something very important that she apparently didn’t know. Placing a quick kiss on her lips he pulled back slightly, all the while angling her further back against the counter. “I want you,” he said his voice hot.
He knew he’d guessed correctly as he watched her eyes darken, her breathing accelerate and her arms slide farther around his neck.
“No more lawyers,” he demanded, pushing her farther against the counter, and dropping his lips to her throat again.
He felt her hand tighten in his hair as she held him in place. “I don’t know,” she murmured. “I was thinking we could be friends... He is new in town after all...”
Because now that she knows, now that she’s pretty sure this was actually something important, it’s easier to tease about the ridiculous jealousy. Because it is a bit funny. And it’s probably deserved anyway.
Now the little temptress was provoking him. Jane nearly laughed. “You can have as many friends as you like Teresa Lisbon,” he told her with a grin. “But I’m the only one who gets to do this,” he hissed, starting at her collar bone and nuzzling his way up.
“Hmmm,” Lisbon hummed when he hit the juncture of jaw-line and ear. “I’ll have to think about your offer.”
This time Jane did laugh. “Like hell you will,” he said, his eyes twinkling into hers. He gently tipped her chin up with one finger and kissed her more thoroughly.
Because they’d never just go with it. They’ll spar forever. AND IT WILL BE CHARMING. Banter is cannon.
They were distracted several minutes later by the rattling lid of a pot whose water had started to boil.
Lisbon giggled as Jane cursed under his breath and turned back towards his neglected cooking. Lucky he’d picked something simple.
“Oh, think this is funny do you?” he asked over his shoulder.
She nodded smugly. “Can I help with anything?”
One corner of his mouth turned up in an almost boyish smile. “No,” he said firmly. “I am making you dinner, so you,” He explained taking her arm and leading her back around the island. “Can sit down on this stool, drink your wine and keep me company.”
She always takes care of everyone, and he wants to do nice things for her and take care of her. HE DOES. Charming I tell you.
Lisbon rolled her eyes. “Can I?” she asked rhetorically.
Jane nodded. “And I think it’s best if you stay on that side of the island, just until the actual cooking is done. Wouldn’t you agree?”
That earned him a genuine smile as Lisbon did as he asked and settled onto her stool, smirking superiorly at him the entire time. “Will you at least tell me what we’re having?” she asked.
Jane shrugged. “Well, given that we just got back from a case I had to improvise with what was in my cupboards.”
“Can’t possibly be as bad as what’s usually in mine,” Lisbon interrupted.
Jane smirked. “Or not in yours,” he corrected. “Well, anyway, it’s still not what I wanted to make you, but I thought spaghetti and tomato sauce, if you’ve no objections.”
“No,” Lisbon said with a shake of her head, as she took a sip of her wine. “That sounds lovely,” she admitted. Jane was actually cooking her dinner. She’d figured that was what he was doing when she’d smelled food in the bedroom, but this was... She was wearing his clothes and he was cooking her dinner. No one had cooked her dinner other than one of her own brothers in years, and even that was rare. Sure, she’d been wined and dined at fancy restaurants before, but sitting in Jane’s kitchen drinking a glass of wine in sweatpants was different, cozier.
It’s personal. And although I’m sure Lisbon dates casually, I am perfectly willing to believe that she hasn’t had anything really genuinely intimate in a while.
Jane wanted her. And obviously not in a one-night stand, or even a casual fling kind of a way. He was wining and dining her. Okay, it was unorthodox to say the least, and had involved kidnapping and handcuffs, but still. It was romantic. She... she genuinely wasn’t quite sure what it meant.
If it meant she could have the Jane who bought her flowers to apologize and dragged her to movies when she needed a break and this Jane who seduced her and made her dinner.... Well, that might be okay. Maybe. She hadn’t been in a genuine relationship in god only knows how long. Oh she dated from time to time (and less frequently now than she used to), but it never seemed to feel quite right.
It *might* be okay. She’s in denial a little bit here, not quite ready to admit that she’d really like that quite a bit. Give her time. She’s only had a few hours to get used to it.
And this... this was Jane. It was crazy.
But it didn’t feel wrong.
Key. It’s insane, and ludicrous, and all sorts of things. But it’s also right. (I just want them to be happy... Why is show stupid about that most of the time?)
“Something wrong?” Jane asked, in an odd parody of her thoughts.
Lisbon looked up, and shook her head.
He frowned. “Come on, Teresa. I know you better than that.”
She shrugged. “Just trying to remember the last time someone made me dinner,” she said eventually. “It was so long ago I’m not sure I can remember.”
She tells him part of the truth, and he infers the rest of it. And then shares right back.
“Probably about the last time I made someone dinner,” Jane admitted softly.
Her fingers tightened around her wineglass. Oh. “Oh,” she said inadequately.
Jane walked over with two plates. “Yeah,” he said. “Well, for better or worse it’s ready. Hope you enjoy it. Sorry it’s not...”
“It’s perfect,” Lisbon said quickly. It was perfect. It was better than a gourmet meal, with all the fuss and planning. This was Jane throwing something together after a particularly bad week, because he wanted to have a meal with her.
I wanted to make it real, despite all the handcuff-related manipulation. I wanted it to end up somewhere genuine.
Why did this keep feeling like it might work? They were both going to be absolutely terrible at this, for different reasons.
“You sure?” Jane asked, setting the plates down and wiping his hands. He really had wanted to make something a little more ambitious than spaghetti.
The second his hands were free Lisbon kissed him.
Because she doesn’t want the fuss of ambitious right now. She prefers that it’s not all planned and perfect. I think it puts her more at ease.
After a few seconds she pulled away, and sat down demurely on the chair he’d pulled out for her earlier.
“Aren’t you going to sit down Patrick?” she asked innocently.
Jane blinked at her for a moment. “Of course,” he said, pulling out his own chair.
Lisbon took a moment to appreciate the smell of the spaghetti. “I’m starving,” she admitted. “And I definitely wouldn’t have been making anything like this for myself.”
“Soup or take out?” Jane asked. He knew her eating habits.
Because she can cook, but I have no trouble believing that she often doesn’t.
She shrugged. “Probably soup,” she admitted. “It was a long case.”
“Yeah,” Jane admitted.
Lisbon frowned for a second. “But I don’t want to talk about that right now,” she exclaimed suddenly. She didn’t want to ruin their meal with death and tragedy. She deserved a reprieve. They both did. “Let’s talk about something else. What did you want to talk to me about earlier?” she asked.
“When?” Jane wondered.
“In the car,” she clarified. “Before...”
“It’s kind of a moot point now,” Jane deflected.
It kind of is. “DATE ME, not the namby-pamby lawyer” loses some of its relevance after you sleep with someone and then make them a romantic dinner.
“Jane...” she said in warning.
“I’ll tell you later,” he promised. “After dinner.”
“So what are we going to talk about now then?” Lisbon asked with a laugh.
“What would you like to talk about?” he wondered.
She smiled, inspiration suddenly striking. “Tell me about buying this house,” she ordered.
Because she knows he wants to. She knows he’s excited. And she wants to see it.
Jane smiled back, pleased, and only too happy to comply.
xxxxx
After dinner, Jane grabbed the plates, rinsed them and put them in the dishwasher. Then he poured them both more wine. At her frown he sighed, “It’s your third in almost as many hours, Lisbon,” he reminded her. “But if you like, we can switch to water.”
After a moment she relaxed her shoulders and shook her head gently. “No,” she said. “It’s fine. And it’d be a shame to let good wine go to waste.”
Plus she has no intention of going home tonight... WHAT? She doesn’t. She knows that at this point, even if he’s less certain. He knows he doesn’t want her to go...
“Do you want any desert?” he asked.
“You have desert?” she asked in surprise. He raised an eyebrow in question. “I thought this was a little more un-planned than that,” she admitted.
Jane shrugged. “It was,” he admitted. “But there’s still Mayan chocolate ice cream in the freezer.” He’d bought it on a whim when he saw it in the grocery store a week ago. He’d been thinking of her.
Mayan chocolate ice cream, best thing ever. Chocolate and cinnamon doesn’t sound like it’d be good together, but oh, SO GOOD. I have some in my freezer right now.
Lisbon froze. “I was going to have that on my couch tonight,” she admitted.
Jane smirked. He’d known it was her favourite. “I’ll get the bowls.”
“No,” she said, grabbing his arm to stop him. “Not right now. I’m too full. Maybe later.”
Jane agreed, his smile suddenly excited. “Alright! Then how about a tour?”
She couldn’t help laughing at his enthusiasm.
xxxxx
And that’s it for this chapter. One more to go.