A/N: Why is it I can only write fluff or angst? Damn it. x tromana

Title: Colours of the Rainbow #5: Beaten Black and Blue
Rating: T
Characters: Jane/Lisbon, Team
Summary: Lisbon refuses to admit she's unwell. Typical.
Disclaimer: Mr. Heller's, not mine.
Notes: Inspired by certain events that happened to me last month. *coughs* 'Cause I'm nice like that.
Prompt: Blue

Beaten Black and Blue

Lisbon just glared at Jane as they strapped themselves into the SUV. This was getting beyond a joke; the nurses at the ER knew him on first name terms, admittedly not helped by the fact that he flirted shamelessly with them. It also didn't help that she always ended up being the one chaperoning him there; she was getting fed up with the glowering looks for jealous medical professionals who all seemed to assume that she and Jane were in a relationship. No way. As if. Not in a million years.

He grinned at her from underneath cotton wool and tape. The nurse had told him that he had been very lucky this time. Lisbon had muttered something about how if the suspect doesn't break his nose next time, she will. She'd almost got thrown out of the room for that, but Jane had smoothed things over, saying something about how she had an 'unusual' sense of humour. Lisbon wasn't trying to be funny, though. She'd meant it. Sort of. Monthly visits to ER do that to a woman. So do migraines. At least it was only a mild one though, only about six out of ten on the 'migraine scale' she'd mentally kept since she started suffering from them when she was fourteen.

"That's the last time I peel you off the pavement after you've been beaten black and blue."

"Aw, you don't mean that, Lisbon," he replied, sounding rather stuffy because of the cotton shoved up his nose to stem the blood flow. "You enjoy it really."

"I do not," she snapped. "You need to learn to stop pissing people off in this line of work, Jane. You'll get yourself a serious injury one of these days."

When they arrived back at HQ, Lisbon stomped off back to her office before Van Pelt even had a chance to update her on the reports forensics had come back with on the Terrick case. The poor redhead then looked so flustered and almost hurt, that Jane had to step in and whisk her away to the kitchenette for a hot drink.

"What have you done to Lisbon?"

"Me, nothing," Jane replied to a sceptical Van Pelt. "Her migraine however…"

"She has a migraine? Why is she still here then?"

"Our boss is a martyr to her work, you can't really expect her to take a day off for something as mundane as a migraine? Anyway, it's virtually impossible for her to admit that she's ill."

"Good point," Van Pelt conceded whilst sipping on her coffee.

The next morning, Lisbon swore her head felt worse than having a vice clamped around it. In fact, she reckoned that a clamp would be bliss compared to how she was suffering right now. It didn't help that she was about to face a day with quite possibly the most childish, and loudest man on the planet. And they had to travel at least an hour to get to the house of the suspect, meaning she'd be trapped in a small metal box with him. Joy.

"I can't believe she came into work today," Van Pelt muttered to Rigsby. She looked suitably admonished when she realised that Lisbon had not only overheard but was standing right behind her. "I'm sorry, boss, but you do look really unwell."

"Enough," Lisbon replied. "We have work to do."

As she explained the details of the day's plans, they listened attentively. It was obvious that speaking at all was causing her pain so she was almost whispering at them. Jane knew that he'd find it amusing if she wasn't suffering but he knew she was particularly ill because they hadn't even bickered in jest once today. He just received a quiet 'hello' along with everyone else before she had retreated to Minelli's to update him on the latest case and the information she was relaying now. Jane knew he shouldn't, but he felt almost ignored by her lack of contact. It wasn't as if she could help it, after all.

It was when they were standing in front of the SUV when Jane finally managed to get a few private words with her. Along with Van Pelt, they were meant to be questioning David Terrick's elder sister, Hollie, who seemed to look good for the murder. He raised a hand to stroke a loose strand of hair out of her eyes and she flinched at the physical contact, whilst squinting at the bright sunlight.

"Do you suffer from aura?"

"What?"

"Migraine aura," he repeated. "Everyone knows you have one, Lisbon. You don't need to pretend that you're fine."

"Yes."

"I would ask you why you're even here, but I know the answer to that. Give me the keys."

Lisbon sighed and instead approached Van Pelt, who had just exited the CBI headquarters and was approaching them, whilst carrying the laptop she had been sent back for. She looked a little startled as Lisbon walked towards her, but she often did. Jane smiled; the rookie still hadn't realised that their boss' bark was worse than her bite.

"Van Pelt?"

"Yes, boss?"

"You're driving."

'Damn her,' thought Jane, briefly. But at least, she wasn't driving. That was a compromise to say the least. Besides, it would give him a chance to attempt to make sure she stayed hydrated during the journey. Water often helped clear up migraines.

"She came in again?" He had already said it several times but Rigsby still sounded even more incredulous than Van Pelt had 24 hours ago.

Van Pelt nodded forlornly as Jane stormed off to Minelli's office. He hadn't thought it possible, but Lisbon had yet again managed to look even paler than the day before. The three of them had been attempting to observe her through closed blinds despite Cho's rather pathetic attempts to try and get them to work, though he did appreciate their sentiment. He'd long since given up, hoping that Lisbon would eventually grow annoyed with them and chastise them for work avoidance. They were all baffled when Jane returned with a triumphant smile, picked the lock to her office and threw open the door.

"You know, if you've had a migraine for 72 hours, you're meant to go to ER?"

"Jane," she whispered. "What the hell do you think you are doing?"

"Taking you to hospital," he frowned. "You're sick and it could be serious."

"It's happened before," she replied. "They told me it was just a migraine then, the same as it is now."

"Fine, home then," he smiled as she looked horrified at the concept. "Minelli's orders."

She stood, giving up. She had known that they had wasted the best part of an hour trying to watch her from the other side of the door. Perhaps if she went home and slept for a while, they would get more done and find some solid evidence to arrest Hollie Terrick? And she was fairly certain that if there was a major breakthrough, Cho wouldn't hesitate to call her. Well, sort of, anyway. Jane guided her out of the building and Lisbon knew that if she had more energy, she would have thrown off the gentle (and protective) arm he had thrown around her shoulders. She didn't even have the spirit to complain when he said that they would take his car to her apartment.

Though she was loathe to admit it, she quite liked the attention Jane lavished on her once she got home. He immediately made himself at home in her kitchen, making sure she knew that there was absolutely no way he was going to leave her alone for the night. And if she was still suffering in the morning, he was driving her straight to ER whether she liked it or not. Every few minutes, he made sure she had enough water, that she didn't need any more painkillers or migraine medicine. After he had practically force-fed her, they sat together on her couch with her curled up in the crook of his arm. When he noticed she was nearly falling asleep, he'd cajoled her into her bedroom and sat outside of the door until he was certain she was sleeping.

When she woke up, Lisbon padded downstairs in slipper-clad feet, with her dressing gown wrapped rather tightly around her lithe form. She also wore an expression which was a strange mixture of guilt and gratitude and looked at least a thousand times better than she did when he had virtually locked her in her bedroom the previous afternoon. It had surprised her just how much an afternoon off had helped.

"You look better," Jane noted as he poured them both a cup of tea.

"I feel it," she replied. "Thank you, Jane. There was no need to look after me last night."

"Nonsense," he grinned. "Besides, if you weren't better, who would peel me off the pavement after I've been beaten black and blue?"

end

Next: Indigo Jeans