"You were shot!"
Lisbon knew she could be heard through the glass of her office windows and door, she could tell by the way her team were pretending not to be paying attention but she didn't care. She was furious, and Jane was just standing there, pale, pasty, his arm in a sling, and she was pretty sure she could see a little blood seeping through the bandages.
"In the arm, a flesh wound, nothing serious," he said, with a wave of his hand. He'd gone to raise his right arm, his injured arm, and winced, which angered her further.
"Why d'you do it? Why d'you have to be the smartest person in every room and play your stupid little games?" she cried, throwing her hands up in the air, pacing back and forth behind her desk as Jane watched her as carefully as ever.
"I should make you wear a damn vest when you're out in the field."
"Hell, I should make you wear a vest while you're in the office, considering how much trouble you get into while you're in the building!" she amended, cutting him off sharply.
"Well, that would be uncomfortable, and I'd never get any sleep," he said, "and it wouldn't stop me from getting shot in the arm."
"That's not the point and you know it," she yelled.
So few people made her this angry, there were murderers that failed to make her this angry and she hated to think about what that really meant. Not that she was really thinking at all. She was sure when she looked back on the incident, that had she been thinking, she wouldn't have picked up the black hole punch on her desk and thrown it at him.
For all his acute observations, keen insights, the ability to correctly guess the most random things about anyone he met, he didn't foresee a hole punch flying through the air, and hitting him on the head.
Neither had Lisbon really, and she didn't really expect him to go down so easily. Though he had been shot, and wasn't looking very good. When he hit the floor, she stared at him, transfixed, shocked and it wasn't until her team came running into her office, and Rigsby was asking her what had happened, that she was able to move. To speak.
"Like you weren't all watching," she managed to say, looking at Cho who was checking Jane's pulse, and Van Pelt who had decided to check his wound. Which was bleeding more easily now and it just made her angrier. If he had stayed in hospital, like he was supposed to, then he'd have had a better chance to heal before he left instead of them dragging his ass back there with a new bump on his head.
"I should have you charged with assault," he groaned.
Lisbon's head snapped up from where she had rested it on the side of his hospital bed, her hand holding his still, as he came around. He smiled at her, the bump on his head was red but not as prominent as when she had first knocked him out a few hours previously. The wound on his arm had been cleaned up and redressed. He was going to be fine.
"And I should break your jaw," she told him. "It's the only way to keep you quiet."
"You're very violent you know."
"Only around you," she said.
"Only around me, or for me?" he asked, grinning and raising his eyebrows. Lisbon scowled and let go of his hand, shaking his grip off.
"I'm sorry I threw a hole punch at you," she said.
He winced without moving, reaching up with his good arm to rub his head.
"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine," he said. "Just a little headache."
She had to laugh, chuckling a little.
"I'll get a doctor."
He reached out, arm snapping out so quick he could grab her wrist and stop her from even standing.
"What made you so mad?" he asked. She pulled her arm free.
"You got shot," she said, "and he wasn't even the murderer."
"No, but we did discover the murderer."
"Who nearly got away while you were getting shot!"
"That's not really what made you angry though."
"Oh, please enlighten me," she said.
"You know why, we both know why, I'm just wondering if you're willing to admit it."
"Do you want me to throw something else at you?" she asked.
He smiled at her.
"I'm going to get a doctor."
When she came back, he'd pulled himself up into a sitting position. She walked around the bed and right up to him, looking at him carefully before brushing away his blond hair to get a better look at the bump on his forehead. He watched her, but she didn't say anything for a moment.
"You don't make me violent, or even that angry," she said. "You stop me from thinking clearly and it leads to anger."
She finally dropped her hand and looked him into the eye. He wasn't grinning but thoughtful, and Lisbon took a step back.
"Have you ever been in love Lisbon?" he asked.
"What's that got to do with anything?"
"Nothing, just asking."
She considered telling him it was none of his business, like she usually would, but decided to give him a break considering she'd knocked him out.
"Once, I think, a few years ago."
"I thought so back then."
"Sometimes I think I was enamoured with him more than anything else."
She felt her cheeks flush, knew they were bright red, and saw Jane grinning at her.
"No," she said, the word drawn out.
"You never threw anything at him?" he asked.
"You know you can't lie to me Teresa."
"Once," she admitted. "And I missed."
"Does that mean you love me more or less?" he asked.
She scowled at him, opened her mouth to tell him off, but was interrupted by the doctor finally coming to see Jane.
"I'll leave you to it Doctor," she said, walking out, but hearing Jane's words anyway.
"She loves me," he said, "hurts her to see me injured like this."
She scowled and hit the wall of his room, because he was right.
She really had to stop throwing things at the people she loved.