FIC: "Alone Together on New Year's" Part 1/2 (Lisbon/Jane, rated R)
Title: Alone Together on New Year's
Author: abelard
Pairing: Lisbon/Jane
Rating: R
Disclaimer: Not mine, nope.
Summary: Patrick Jane and Teresa Lisbon spend New Year's Eve and New Year's Day together.
Author's Notes: Written for the mentalistlist fest. I'm new to the show, new to the fandom, and man, I'm a shipper already! I don't care if they get together on the show, but in my fanworld, these two are each other's destiny.
He asks and he already knows the answer:
"What are you doing for New Year's?"
Lisbon glances up, at his smirk, his blonde curls, his all-too-casual demeanor, the way he stands as if to say, "I don't mean any harm at all," and the way she often feels as if his stance is lying.
"Guess," she says, and she knows that he already knows.
"Curling up on the couch under a cozy blanket, watching movies, and generally having a good time holed up alone in your apartment?" Jane asks. When Lisbon checks his face for any malice - after all, plenty of people would say her New Year's plans are pathetically anti-social - she finds none, and she nods in confirmation.
"I intend to enjoy myself thoroughly." She is completely straight-faced when she says this, and Jane can tell she's deeply sincere.
"I find," Jane says, and Lisbon can hear there's an 'ask' coming, and she just has to wait for it, or figure out what it is, depending on Jane's mood, "that it's even more...strange, or unusual...to be alone on New Year's Day than it is on Christmas. I don't know why." Jane wanders farther into her office, into her space, as if he's interested in the specks on the wall behind her head, on the budding piles of dust gathering in her corners. "There seems to be a social norm of welcoming the new year in the company of others. Going to football games, or parades, or watching them on television....It's as if the entire country wants to be together on the first of January. On Christmas, a person is only supposed to be with his family, but on New Year's, he's somehow supposed to commune with humanity."
Lisbon's mind floods with a dozen thoughts at once. She knows that Jane isn't chastising her for spending New Year's by herself. She knows that, in fact, he is making a request of some kind. She also knows that he is saying that he doesn't care about being by himself for Christmas, because the great tragedy, the defining characteristic of his entire life is that he has no family, but that for some reason, he cares whether he is alone for New Year's. She suspects what his request is, and although she cannot quite believe it, she's amenable.
She should really make him work for it. What's the matter, Jane? Can't watch the Rose Parade in your own living room? But she won't. Because he deserves a break at this time of year. Because the fact that he hasn't just come out and asked directly means that he thinks she might say no, and she won't.
"You're asking if it's okay if you come over for New Year's," she says, and before he can ponder what that means, whether she is inviting him or not, she adds, "and it is."
It is okay. Come over if you like. Jane hears and understands. He knows she is not just tolerating him, that she would welcome him into her home, that she would not feel her sanctuary intruded upon if he showed up.
He likes that she is a straight-talker and yet a lot of what she says warrants mulling-over. He likes that he has to listen closely to the cadence of her voice before he is really sure of her meaning, often. He likes that she wears an impassive expression much of the time, and her posture is frequently ramrod-straight, and yet she has eyes like mirrors over oceans, full of their own mysteries, and deeper than anyone knows.
"I'll bring popcorn. What time works for you?" Jane asks.
"Actually, come by on New Year's Eve at nine. Wear a suit, and bring an overnight bag with a change of clothes. This isn't a proposition. I need a partner for a friend's party on the thirty-first," says Lisbon.
Jane smiles at a lot of things in that little speech. He feels surprise that she would want him to accompany her to a social function, and amused that she doesn't call him a "date," but a "partner." An odd term that no one but Lisbon would use in the same context. But they are partners, of a sort, he supposes. And anyway, he is happy to go with her if she wishes it, whatever her reasoning.
"Sure thing, boss," he replies.
*******
When he shows up at her doorstep, Lisbon invites him in and shows him to her smallish den, which has a sleeper couch already extended and dressed with fresh sheets and pillows. She tells him to drop off his bag and that she'll drive to the party. The neckline of her blue cocktail dress is quite high, and yet Jane can't help but think the dress is revealing. It does cling to her figure, and the hem ends just above her knees and shows off her legs, and Jane has to think on why such a conservative dress strikes him as such a head-turner, and then he decides it's because he has so rarely seen her in anything other than pants.
Before he can really get a good look around at her apartment, Jane has a bottle of expensive Pinot Noir thrust into his hands. "Here, hold this," Lisbon says, and puts on her coat. Then they climb into the car, Jane holding the bottle of wine in his lap the entire way, and when they climb out at Lisbon's friend's house, it's Jane who hands over the bottle as a gift for the hostess. Lisbon flinches at what a couple-y thing that is, having this handsome man whom her friends have never met bring the wine. She catches the questioning stares and pleased smiles that her friend Mary-Elise and her husband, Gerald, throw her way but waves them off. Later in the evening, she'll say that yes, she's aware of how good looking Patrick is, and yes, they're colleagues and...friends, but that's it.
The party is already going strong at nine-thirty, and Jane and Lisbon separate and make fleeting small talk among the thirty or so people in attendance as they pick up hors d'oeuvres from various trays. Both Lisbon and Jane find themselves on the receiving end of various inquiries about their relationship, even from brand-new acquaintances. Lisbon is quick to deny a romance, every time. Jane is more circumspect about his answers. From long experience, he finds that it's better to let women believe that he's taken than to think they have a chance at some intimacy with him. He is wearing a ring and Lisbon isn't, but that doesn't stop these people whom he has never met before from assuming that he and Lisbon are connected.
At the stroke of midnight, Lisbon touches Jane on his arm, above the elbow, and rises on her tiptoes as Jane bends down. Lisbon presses a very light kiss to Jane's cheek, and he knows she has been wondering what she should do at this precise moment, and this was her answer, her solution. Jane, in turn, places a kiss on Lisbon's cheek. Then they both look around at people kissing - on the mouth - and embracing, and swaying to the sound of Auld Lang Syne playing on the television, as the fireworks in every nation's capital burst in the various skies. Jane decides to risk putting one arm around Lisbon's shoulders and pulling her in, very slightly, towards him, and she doesn't resist or draw away. For each of them, the feel of the other's warm body seems more intimate than the friendly kisses just exchanged.
About twenty minutes into the new year, Lisbon drives them back to her house.
Author: abelard
Pairing: Lisbon/Jane
Rating: R
Disclaimer: Not mine, nope.
Summary: Patrick Jane and Teresa Lisbon spend New Year's Eve and New Year's Day together.
Author's Notes: Written for the mentalistlist fest. I'm new to the show, new to the fandom, and man, I'm a shipper already! I don't care if they get together on the show, but in my fanworld, these two are each other's destiny.
He asks and he already knows the answer:
"What are you doing for New Year's?"
Lisbon glances up, at his smirk, his blonde curls, his all-too-casual demeanor, the way he stands as if to say, "I don't mean any harm at all," and the way she often feels as if his stance is lying.
"Guess," she says, and she knows that he already knows.
"Curling up on the couch under a cozy blanket, watching movies, and generally having a good time holed up alone in your apartment?" Jane asks. When Lisbon checks his face for any malice - after all, plenty of people would say her New Year's plans are pathetically anti-social - she finds none, and she nods in confirmation.
"I intend to enjoy myself thoroughly." She is completely straight-faced when she says this, and Jane can tell she's deeply sincere.
"I find," Jane says, and Lisbon can hear there's an 'ask' coming, and she just has to wait for it, or figure out what it is, depending on Jane's mood, "that it's even more...strange, or unusual...to be alone on New Year's Day than it is on Christmas. I don't know why." Jane wanders farther into her office, into her space, as if he's interested in the specks on the wall behind her head, on the budding piles of dust gathering in her corners. "There seems to be a social norm of welcoming the new year in the company of others. Going to football games, or parades, or watching them on television....It's as if the entire country wants to be together on the first of January. On Christmas, a person is only supposed to be with his family, but on New Year's, he's somehow supposed to commune with humanity."
Lisbon's mind floods with a dozen thoughts at once. She knows that Jane isn't chastising her for spending New Year's by herself. She knows that, in fact, he is making a request of some kind. She also knows that he is saying that he doesn't care about being by himself for Christmas, because the great tragedy, the defining characteristic of his entire life is that he has no family, but that for some reason, he cares whether he is alone for New Year's. She suspects what his request is, and although she cannot quite believe it, she's amenable.
She should really make him work for it. What's the matter, Jane? Can't watch the Rose Parade in your own living room? But she won't. Because he deserves a break at this time of year. Because the fact that he hasn't just come out and asked directly means that he thinks she might say no, and she won't.
"You're asking if it's okay if you come over for New Year's," she says, and before he can ponder what that means, whether she is inviting him or not, she adds, "and it is."
It is okay. Come over if you like. Jane hears and understands. He knows she is not just tolerating him, that she would welcome him into her home, that she would not feel her sanctuary intruded upon if he showed up.
He likes that she is a straight-talker and yet a lot of what she says warrants mulling-over. He likes that he has to listen closely to the cadence of her voice before he is really sure of her meaning, often. He likes that she wears an impassive expression much of the time, and her posture is frequently ramrod-straight, and yet she has eyes like mirrors over oceans, full of their own mysteries, and deeper than anyone knows.
"I'll bring popcorn. What time works for you?" Jane asks.
"Actually, come by on New Year's Eve at nine. Wear a suit, and bring an overnight bag with a change of clothes. This isn't a proposition. I need a partner for a friend's party on the thirty-first," says Lisbon.
Jane smiles at a lot of things in that little speech. He feels surprise that she would want him to accompany her to a social function, and amused that she doesn't call him a "date," but a "partner." An odd term that no one but Lisbon would use in the same context. But they are partners, of a sort, he supposes. And anyway, he is happy to go with her if she wishes it, whatever her reasoning.
"Sure thing, boss," he replies.
*******
When he shows up at her doorstep, Lisbon invites him in and shows him to her smallish den, which has a sleeper couch already extended and dressed with fresh sheets and pillows. She tells him to drop off his bag and that she'll drive to the party. The neckline of her blue cocktail dress is quite high, and yet Jane can't help but think the dress is revealing. It does cling to her figure, and the hem ends just above her knees and shows off her legs, and Jane has to think on why such a conservative dress strikes him as such a head-turner, and then he decides it's because he has so rarely seen her in anything other than pants.
Before he can really get a good look around at her apartment, Jane has a bottle of expensive Pinot Noir thrust into his hands. "Here, hold this," Lisbon says, and puts on her coat. Then they climb into the car, Jane holding the bottle of wine in his lap the entire way, and when they climb out at Lisbon's friend's house, it's Jane who hands over the bottle as a gift for the hostess. Lisbon flinches at what a couple-y thing that is, having this handsome man whom her friends have never met bring the wine. She catches the questioning stares and pleased smiles that her friend Mary-Elise and her husband, Gerald, throw her way but waves them off. Later in the evening, she'll say that yes, she's aware of how good looking Patrick is, and yes, they're colleagues and...friends, but that's it.
The party is already going strong at nine-thirty, and Jane and Lisbon separate and make fleeting small talk among the thirty or so people in attendance as they pick up hors d'oeuvres from various trays. Both Lisbon and Jane find themselves on the receiving end of various inquiries about their relationship, even from brand-new acquaintances. Lisbon is quick to deny a romance, every time. Jane is more circumspect about his answers. From long experience, he finds that it's better to let women believe that he's taken than to think they have a chance at some intimacy with him. He is wearing a ring and Lisbon isn't, but that doesn't stop these people whom he has never met before from assuming that he and Lisbon are connected.
At the stroke of midnight, Lisbon touches Jane on his arm, above the elbow, and rises on her tiptoes as Jane bends down. Lisbon presses a very light kiss to Jane's cheek, and he knows she has been wondering what she should do at this precise moment, and this was her answer, her solution. Jane, in turn, places a kiss on Lisbon's cheek. Then they both look around at people kissing - on the mouth - and embracing, and swaying to the sound of Auld Lang Syne playing on the television, as the fireworks in every nation's capital burst in the various skies. Jane decides to risk putting one arm around Lisbon's shoulders and pulling her in, very slightly, towards him, and she doesn't resist or draw away. For each of them, the feel of the other's warm body seems more intimate than the friendly kisses just exchanged.
About twenty minutes into the new year, Lisbon drives them back to her house.