Alright, here it is, "the Jane part," as promised (aka the part I'm not too sure about). I'd love to hear what people think. The whole story was awesome to write, but I have mixed feelings about it, that are hard to explain.

But here it is, part 3. Hope you enjoy.


Lisbon slowly got out of the limousine; never let it be said that Walter Mashburn didn't do things in style. And even though she doubted the night had ended like he'd been hoping, the man had nonetheless insisted on having his driver take her home after she'd realized she probably shouldn't drive.

Granted, her going home hadn't been his first suggestion, but for some reason… Lisbon leaned unsteadily against her porch railing. God, what was wrong with her? A handsome billionaire offers her a fabulous no strings evening (and she assumed the morning following it) and she turns him down? Was she stupid? The number of women who'd have killed to be in her shoes… But ever since Jane had showed up at the table with his talk of dangerous men, and potential murderers, and vanishing CBI agents... And then, then for some reason he'd just walked off… Well, after that nothing about the evening had felt right.

Oh, it'd been fun certainly. Mashburn was enjoyable company. But watching Jane walk away, a tangible reminder of her real life, Lisbon couldn't help wondering what the hell she was doing sitting across the table from a playboy billionaire. The whole thing had started out as a way to break her rules, but in her desperation to distance herself from put-upon, underappreciated, overworked Agent Lisbon had Teresa swung too far the other way? And how would it feel tomorrow morning leaving Mashburn's mansion/grotto/hotel penthouse/whatever the heck he lived in, knowing she'd probably never see him again? Then she'd begin to wonder if maybe leaving while she was still ahead might not be the best choice.

The second they'd left the restaurant (after a truly decadent dessert) Lisbon began fiddling with her keys, though she was distressed to realize that after cocktailes and then wine she was far tipsier than she'd thought. She'd definitely had more than three drinks, her usual limit, and now she was fairly certain she shouldn't be driving. She supposed her predicament served her right; she'd insisted on breaking her own rules. "Well," she said slowly, "I guess I should be heading back. It's getting late, and even after meeting half way it's a bit of a haul."

"There's no hurry," Walter had assured her, pushing a stray lock of hair behind her ear. "I'm sure we could always find you a place to stay," he told her.

Lisbon focussed on his hand, her mind racing. Could she? Should she? She didn't know. And that was really an answer in and of itself wasn't it? "Walter..." she said softly, shaking her head.

But he interrupted her, "Ah there she is," he said quietly. "I was wondering if your responsible side was going to emerge at some point tonight Teresa."

"I know this isn't..." she started to explain.

"Don't worry about it," he told her waving his hand. "You don't have to explain. I knew coming in that I had at best a 50% chance of getting more than dinner tonight, even with your wilder side making a sudden resurgence. And 50% might have been hopeful, but then, I'm always hopeful. Especially when it comes to beautiful women. But I didn't ask you to dinner just on the off chance that I might get to sleep with you Teresa. If all I wanted was sex I could get that from any one of my cookie-cutter women you were so contemptuous of yesterday. Actually, I'm sure I could even get it now with one phone call if I wanted. That's not what this was about. I find you interesting, I told you. And we had fun, don't even bother trying to deny it."

"I wasn't going to," she told him with a small grin.

"Good," he replied. "Thank you for dinner Teresa, it's been an experience. I've already called my driver. He can take you home; arguing with me about it will be pointless. And hey, if your adventurous side ever decides it wants to come out for a spin at a later date..." Mashburn finished his thought with a suggestive raise of his eyebrows.

"I might end up taking another drive over to that club of yours," she replied with a grin.

"Or you could just call me," he supplied, handing her his card. "And I may just take that call, if you remember my name, of course" he told her with a grin.

With that Mashburn bent down and kissed her slowly. And as he pulled away Lisbon almost had a change of heart, for just a moment. His smug smile told her he knew it too. She sighed, sending him a rueful smile. "Good night Walter," she said softly as the limousine pulled up.

"Good night Teresa," he said as he opened the door for her. "I hope to hear from you again."

"You just might," she told him quietly. The way her job went sometimes, well, the no strings fun was nice.

"Next time we'll go to Scotland," he decided. "It'll make it harder for you to leave when dinner's over."

She'd just laughed and let him shut the door, acknowledging to herself that part of her already didn't want to leave.

And now she was alone on her front porch, alone and a little angry with herself. She could be having fabulous sex right now. Instead she was stuck leaning against her railing. Because something hadn't felt quite right.

Lisbon closed her eyes briefly and sighed. Something still didn't feel quite right. Of course it didn't. She didn't know why that was even a shock to her any more. At least 'slightly off' was a feeling she was used to. Suddenly she heard another person moving out of the shadows of the porch. She tensed, wondering whether or not she was even sober enough to make going for her gun a good idea.

"I knew you'd be back tonight," she heard a voice say.

Lisbon let out the breath she'd been holding in a whoosh. "Jesus Jane! You scared me," she snapped as she turned towards the man now leaning against the other railing. "What are you trying to do, give me a heart attack? And what are you doing here anyway? Are you still following me?"

"How could I be following you if technically I arrived first?" he asked.

"Stalking me then," she corrected with a snarl.

Jane shook his head slowly, watching her carefully. She was angry. Maybe not with him directly, probably mostly with herself, but for some reason he'd been the match that'd lit the fuse. And if her flushed cheeks and slightly glassy eyes were anything to go by, she was still a bit tipsy, which certainly wouldn't help matters. She was also tired and sad, which would help them even less. This would require some delicacy. "Not stalking you, no," he told her. "Just waiting for you, checking in. Like I said, I'm worried about you Lisbon."

She rolled her eyes, wrapping her arms around herself against the chill. "Yeah, you said that already Jane. You're ever so concerned. Why on earth was I having dinner with someone so positively volatile as Walter Mashburn? Then you show up, with your concern and I mean, I never thought I'd see that day. What's got to have happened to me if Patrick Jane is actually concerned? Maybe if I was blacking out again. Or maybe if I was about to be accused of murder or something. What overly dangerous behaviour was I engaged in? Oh yeah, I was having dinner with a man. But by then I'd start second-guessing. And, and, I was having fun Jane. And now I'm not," Lisbon said sadly, her mighty and righteous rant ending up on a sad note. "You big killjoy," she muttered.

"Lisbon, I..." Jane started.

But she interrupted him, "Look Jane, if we're going to do this, could we at least do it inside?" she asked. "I'm getting a little cold here."

"Of course, after you," he told her, stepping aside so she could open the door.

He followed her into her apartment, listening to her quiet ranting about 'nosy consultants who couldn't mind their own damn business' and 'who drives across the state and just shows up when other people are having dinner' and 'actually having a good time for once,' plus other less coherent grievances, which seemed to be continuously punctuated with mutterings of 'stupid Jane,' or 'meddling idiot.' He would have been amused if she hadn't been so obviously upset.

He watched as Lisbon walked into her kitchen and poured herself a glass of water. She turned to him expectantly.

Uncharacteristically Jane hesitated; he wasn't sure how to begin, so he decided to ease into things. "That was quite the ride you had there Lisbon," he told her lightly. "Perk of dinner with a billionaire I suppose."

She just stared at him, clearly unimpressed. Jane figured he'd better say something else before she threw her water in his face.

"You looked like you were having a good time when I saw you," he ventured. "Did you enjoy yourself?"

"Yes," she told him quickly. "Walter's pretty good company. I had fun," she confirmed. Then she sighed. "Then no, not after all your talk of potential murder, and destructive behaviour and, and I don't know what else."

"I'm sorry Lisbon," he told her softly.

"No you're not!" she snapped back.

"Yes, yes I am," he insisted. I'm sorry that I ruined your night. I'm sorry that you were having fun, and I destroyed it. You don't deserve that. You deserve to have a good time."

"Damn right I deserve to have a good time!" she practically shouted.

"But is that really the kind of good time you want?" he asked cautiously.

She glared at him, "What would you know about what I want?" she asked caustically. "You don't know me at all."

"Now that's not true," he started to say.

"Yes it is!" she insisted. "You think you know me. That's it. Hell, half the time I barely know me, so I don't see how you could have so much freakin' insight."

"I know that Teresa Lisbon is a dedicated Agent of the CBI," he told her. "And I know that Teresa Lisbon would never abandon a friend or a colleague. And she'd do anything she possibly could to catch a killer, or save a potential victim. She's dedicated her life to giving people peace of mind. And while sometimes she's underappreciated, or taken advantage of, and sometimes she gets frustrated, when it comes down to it she's still always there, working away."

"Working," Lisbon repeated wearily. "Always working." She sighed. "I'm sick of working Jane. I wanted something else, something fun, something mindless. Something that broke the rules, was a little different, maybe even a little dangerous. I wanted, I wanted reckless. I've played it straight my whole life; I had to. I just wanted one night. And you couldn't even let me have that."

Alright, Jane thought, that's enough. He couldn't take any more of this self-pitying Lisbon. This wasn't her. His Lisbon was a fighter. And it was about time she regained her fire. "I get that your night didn't go as you'd hoped Lisbon," he told her. "But I wasn't the one who took it from you." She opened her mouth to object, but he wouldn't let her. "Oh, I'll agree that I probably didn't help. But all I did was make you realize that something you were doing didn't feel right to you. I didn't drag you out of there, I didn't condemn your actions, I didn't even tell you I thought it was a bad idea." He paused for a moment, "Okay, I did do that. But only because I was worried. And after I told you that, and you pointed out I may have been overstepping a little, or maybe a lot. And then what did I do? Then I left, because you looked like you were having a good time. You did the rest yourself, with all of your worry."

"I only thinking about all that stuff because you showed up!" she insisted.

"Were you thinking about all through dessert, or were you obsessing over it on the drive home, because you thought you made the wrong decision?" he asked neutrally.

Lisbon paused, "Mostly on the ride home I guess," she conceded, annoyed at the insight, and the fact that maybe he was right, maybe she couldn't completely blame him for everything. "But it started after dessert," she added petulantly, unwilling to completely cede the floor.

"So?" Jane asked.

"So?" she repeated in irritation. "You still had no right. And why the hell where you following me anyway?" she demanded. "And don't give me that crap about hearing the restaurant was good, because I don't believe a word of it."

"I may have found out about your intended dinner companion for the evening," he admitted.

"So you thought you'd check up on me?" she asked, scandalized.

"You've been acting strangely!" he shot back. "You come in looking like you've been out all night. You speed around town, breaking all sorts of traffic laws. I know you're going to bars a few times a week alone. It's not healthy Lisbon. And yeah, some people do it, but not you. I'm just, I'm trying to, I don't know, to help you I guess."

"Well stop it!" Lisbon snapped. "I don't need your help. I can take care of myself." It's not that she didn't appreciate the concern, but she didn't need Jane poking his nose into her private live in all sorts of inappropriate ways. Her professional life was bad enough. And she was embarrassed, embarrassed about how easily he'd picked up on it. And upset with herself because part of her had wanted him to.

Oh thank god, Jane thought. Righteously angry Lisbon. Her appearance was a relief. "I know that!" he told her. "You're almost ridiculously independent. I just, I want to..." he trailed off. "You weren't being you!" he shouted suddenly.

"What?" Lisbon asked flabbergasted. So she'd started going out at night. She hadn't let it affect the quality of her work, she knew that. So what did Jane even care?

"You were, I don't know, you were like pod-Lisbon, like someone I didn't even know anymore."

"I told you," she said irritated. "I was trying to shake things up, let loose a little. Be like everybody else, have a life. Step away from Agent Lisbon for a bit." Why was that so wrong? The fact that everyone seemed to think it was should have been a red flag, but somehow it was strangely comforting.

"Why not take some time off?" Jane suggested tentatively.

"I can't take time off, you'll burn down the CBI by the time I'm back," she insisted.

"I could take time off too," he told her.

Lisbon snorted.

"And anyway, why were you trying to be like everybody else?"Jane demanded, growing annoyed himself. "The team likes you just as you are. I like you just as you are. And I'm sure the rest of your friends do as well. If you want a life, great. If you want to have fun, great. But I resent the implication on your behalf that Teresa Lisbon, just as she is, Agent Lisbon and all, doesn't know how to have any fun. Because that's not true."

Lisbon took a sharp intake of breath. That's what had felt off all night. She'd wanted some fun, something special with someone who knew her. But did it count if the person she was showing them wasn't really her? How much of what she'd shown Walter was genuine? She wasn't sure. Next time (if there was a next time) she'd just be herself. Then maybe she just let herself relax and enjoy it. The fact that Jane might have a point didn't excuse his behaviour though. "That's sweet Jane," she told him softly. "But let's face it, things haven't been exactly rosy lately. And I just wanted a night of meaningless fun, with someone who wanted to spend time with me."

"But Walter Mashburn?" Jane asked.

"Hey, he knows how to show a girl a good time," Lisbon told him. "And we both knew what it was."

"If all you want is a night of meaningless fun, why not use me as your companion?" Jane suggested. "I mean, I know I'm not as rich as Mashburn, but I'm also not so creepily amoral. And I could certainly show you a good time."

Lisbon snorted again. He couldn't possibly be serious. "I'm sure you could," she told him. "But the thing is Jane, then I'd go into work the next day and I'd have to see you. And you'd know what happened. You're smug and superior already, I can't even imagine how you'd be if... Besides, my job's shaky enough as it is, all I need is for it to get out that I'm… I'm…" Lisbon waved her arms for emphasis as she searched for the right word.

"Fraternizing?" Jane suggested.

Lisbon's overly exuberant wave seemed to agree with his choice, "Yeah, with my consultant. At least Mashburn I'd never see again."

"I think you underestimate your appeal," he told her.

"Come on Jane, we both know what kind of man he is," she replied. "Even if one time may be an understatement, the relationship was hardly ever going to be long term. And we both know I'm not the type to become wife number five."

"Five?" Jane asked, surprised.

"Five," she confirmed with a nod.

"Huh," Jane replied. "I'd have thought it would've been higher. And alright, maybe the tryst between hardworking CBI agent and gadabout billionaire would have been brief, but if you decided on only one night it would have been a mutual decision Lisbon. And while I admit that if the two of us did… fraternize, well, yes we would see each other again. Almost daily. But on the other hand, proximity would make it easier to repeat. You could think of it like therapy," Jane suggested.

Lisbon stared at him her eyes disbelieving, "Are you honestly suggesting that I start sleeping with you to relieve some of the tension in my life? The great new relaxation technique, instead of yoga, have sex with Patrick Jane! That I would be, what, some sort of pet project of yours? Oh, looks like Lisbon's depressed again and it's dragging down the mood in the office. Here comes Jane to the rescue! Ready to…"

"No!" Jane interrupted loudly. "No, I… You're not a charity case Lisbon. I just... You mean something."

"Ah, so it would be something a little more than screwing would it?" she asked him angrily. "And then what Jane? What then? We get closer, maybe I let my guard down. It'd be inevitable if we did it long enough wouldn't it? What then? Oh yeah, Red John. And you'd probably end up dead or in prison, and I'm right back where I started. Maybe even worse."

Jane looked at the ground.

"Face it Jane," she told him. "You're an even worse choice than Walter is. Yeah, I like you, and I worry about you, and you've become a part of my life now. But all that'll mean is that everything will be even worse when it's all over. At least Mashburn won't betray my trust.

"Only because you'd never give it to him in the first place," Jane muttered in irritation.

"Yeah," Lisbon agreed sadly. She knew that, had always known that. And she'd never had any intention about getting in deep with Walter Mashburn, telling him about her past. He wasn't the type you did that with. Jane on the other hand, well, he'd probably get it out of her either way. "Look Jane, don't even bother. I know I should find a nice guy, one who treats me right and is there for me and all that crap. But where am I gonna find one of those? I mean, look at me," she gestured to herself, and her now completely dishevelled appearance.

"I am looking at you," Jane said, his tone low.

"I'm a mess," Lisbon told him.

"You've been in a car for quite some time and it's near midnight," Jane pointed out.

Lisbon shook her head, that wasn't exactly her point. "I work too hard, I work too long. My job is my life. I can never let go, ever. Hell, I can't even enjoy a night of meaningless sex with a billionaire who finds me attractive and basically laid all the cards out on the table. I mean, I know he probably only wanted to because I went against type and that got his attention, or maybe he liked the idea of a woman with handcuffs and a gun, with his type I can see how that would appeal, and oh god, I'm still a little drunk and I'm rambling in front of my consultant. And I've been doing it for a while now haven't I?" Lisbon collapsed on her couch, her head in her hands. "God, what is wrong with me?"

Jane knelt in front of her, placing his own hands around her wrists as he tried to draw them away. "First of all," he told her softly, "You're lovely. And I promise you that if you really wanted to you could find a nice guy without any trouble."

"Sure I could," Lisbon muttered darkly.

"Quiet," Jane admonished. "You're sad and you've had a bit too much to drink. That's never a good combination. You could find a nice guy Lisbon; you just need to leave work before dark a few days a week. And you won't find him in one of those dark and smoky bars you've been frequenting all month."

Lisbon lowered one hand to look at him suspiciously.

"I said I was worried about you dear," Jane reminded her softly. He frowned when she lowered her eyes again, in what he would guess was a mixture of embarrassment, hurt, shame, and he hoped just the teeniest hint of relief that he cared that much, even though he knew a hint of self-loathing at being glad that she essentially had a stalker would eventually surface, if it hadn't already.

Her shoulders remained slumped, "Sorry I worried you," she whispered. "I'll try…"

Jane stood abruptly. "Do you think I care about a little worry?" he asked harshly. "I'd rather know when you were upset and worry about it than have you try and shut down on me all the time Lisbon," he bit out. He ran a hand through his hair in distraction. "And did it ever occur to you that I might like having someone to worry about?"

"What?" she asked honestly shocked.

"I know I have Red John," Jane told her, unable to meet her eyes. "God knows sometimes I wish I didn't. And I know that means… that it makes me… I know I'm not a nice guy Lisbon. And I know that the fact that I care enough to be here at all probably puts you in horrible danger,"

"Jane that's not…" Lisbon started to tell him.

Suddenly he looked her straight in the eye. "Why do you think I sometimes wish I could move on with my life Teresa? Why specifically?" he asked sharply.

Lisbon froze, unable to respond.

Jane sighed and looked away again. "I'm not a nice guy, but sometimes I wish I was." He took a breath, "And you really, really deserve a nice guy."

"Jane," she said softly.

"You could call me Patrick if you wanted," he murmured. "When we're out of the office. I don't mind."

She paused. Oh she wanted to. Part of her really wanted to. But after a brief absence, strong, sensible Lisbon was finally making herself known. "I'll think about it," she promised him. "I've gotten kind of fond of Jane. And it's easier to yell across a crowded room."

He nodded, almost smiling. He almost wanted to ask if he could reciprocate, but didn't want to hear her say no.

She seemed to anticipate him, "I suppose while I'm at it I could also think about letting you call me Teresa, for equality's sake."

"Of course," he told her.

After a slightly awkward pause he added, "I'm still going to worry about you Lisbon."

She tilted her head slightly considering, "I think I might be okay with that," she replied.

"Good," he told her with a nod.

"I suppose you're still going to be a thorn in my side at work," she added casually.

Jane smirked, "Almost certainly. Wouldn't want you to get too complacent after all," he told her.

She sighed, "Well, I guess I'll have to live with that too. And on that note, I guess see you at work on Monday," she said, hoping to herd him out of her apartment. It'd been a long night.

"Oh, I have no intention of leaving you alone tonight," Jane told her.

Lisbon glared again. "I don't need a babysitter Jane."

"I know, but I'm not going to leave you alone to obsess over what's happened. Just relax Lisbon. You can do it. You wanted to have a bit of fun. Why not try and enjoy my company. As an added bonus you get to be yourself," he told her.

"How do you know I wasn't myself with Mashburn?" she asked.

Jane was inordinately pleased that she'd apparently slipped back into using the billionaire's last name. "Oh, it was close Lisbon, but it was still a bit of an act."

"Of course it was!" she replied. "It was a date. No one's perfectly themselves on a date! If they were no couple would ever last past the first one."

"Well, be that as it may, since this isn't a date we won't even have that problem," he told her. "And you know me pretty well and you haven't run screaming yet, so that's probably a good sign too."

"Jane," she said tiredly.

Jane ignored her. "And I already like you, so why don't we watch a movie?" he asked cheerfully.


"Come on, I know you own His Girl Friday. And you know you always love Cary Grant, no matter how annoyed or depressed you are."


"Come on Teresa," he said testing her. "We're just watching a movie together. What's the harm? We'll have a little fun, enjoy ourselves."

She decided she was too tired to object to the use of her first name, "And afterwards?"

"Whatever you want," he told her honestly.

"And Red John?" she couldn't help checking, because this whole thing was such a recipe for disaster.

"We'll deal with him when the time comes," Jane said softly. He knew that was one thing he couldn't promise. Not yet. "And if things do go bad, at least we'll be able to remember a couple of good movies."

She hesitated.

But Jane was determined to convince her. "Lisbon, I want to be with you when you're sad. I don't like the idea of you sitting at home alone upset. And I like the thought of you thinking you need to change who you are to be happy even less. Let me watch movies with you, let me hold you a little. Would that honestly be any worse than both of us alone, you sad, me worried, or vice versa? Because this'll go both ways I promise you. If you think this is bad, wait until I'm the one who's upset."

"Will you make me popcorn?" she asked tentatively.

"Need I remind you we're in your house?" Jane couldn't help pointing out in amusement.

Lisbon rolled her eyes, "You make perfect strangers tea all the time at their own houses. I hardly think making popcorn at mine is much of a stretch." And she was too tired to do it herself.

"How's your head?" Jane asked.

"I'm fine," she told him.

In other words she was feeling the start of tension headache behind her eyes, Jane concluded. "I'll refill your glass of water."

"No tea?" she asked playfully.

Jane shook his head, "It's a diuretic; it'll make you even more dehydrated. You need to replace some of that fluid."

"Yes Dr. Jane," Lisbon mocked.

"I just hope you're taking notes woman for when you have to take care of me," Jane shot back as he walked into her kitchen, pleased that her mood seemed to be improving. "Of course then we won't be watching Cukor. I've always been more of a fan of spy movies, Mr. and Mrs. Smith, James Bond, the Thomas Crown Affair."

"Plus there's your secret musical collection," Lisbon added.

Her guess was rewarded by the sound of a crash in the kitchen followed by a quiet curse. She laughed delightedly, pleased that her suspicions had been proven.

Jane poked his head back into the living room, "Musicals?" he asked innocently. "Why would you…"

"Oh please," she said with a wave of her hand. "It's obvious. And I hate to burst your bubble, but you're not so much James Bond as you are Harold Hill. Don't even try and tell me you haven't seen The Music Man more times than you can count. I wouldn't be surprised if you owned a copy."

Jane looked slightly sheepish, but impressed, "How…"

She shrugged. "You think you're the only one who notices things about people? You like musicals Jane, much as you try and deny it sometimes. And one about a shady con-man who tries to pull the wool over an uptight, but secretly romantic librarian only to fall head over heels in love with her is right up your alley. Doesn't take a genius to figure that one out."

"Well if I'm Harold then you're my Marian the Librarian," he told her. "Only your name doesn't rhyme with your occupation. Neither 'CBI' nor 'Agent' is particularly rhyme-friendly. Which is a shame. Unless I started calling you Theresa the Police-a." His eyes lit up.

"No," she said, trying to be firm, but her lips were twitching.

"Oh come on Lisbon…"

"Fine," she conceded. "But only if you plan on singing and dancing around the CBI while you sing to me. And I expect, Cho, Rigsby and Van Pelt to be back-up dancers."

Jane paused. "Hmmm. I'll have to take that under consideration."

Lisbon laughed again, "I thought so. We can watch that one next time," she promised him. "And you can be the drunk idiot," she added ruefully, embarrassment starting to rise again at the memory.

"Oh hush," Jane told her with a wave of his hand. "You're not an idiot. And you're not superwoman. You're allowed a bit of a breakdown every now and then."

"Still, next time I'd rather if you were the one who got drunk," she told him.

"Planning on taking advantage of me?" he couldn't help asking.

"Maybe," Lisbon replied. "Since it appears you wouldn't mind. But, you also probably have more interesting stories."

"We could both get drunk," Jane suggested. "Make a game of it."

"You want to play a Music Man drinking game?" Lisbon asked, clearly amused.

"Why not?" Jane wondered. "It'd be different. And 'Drink any time Harold lies or tries to con someone' has its merits."

Lisbon shook her head. "That won't get us tipsy, that'll get our stomachs pumped."

"Spoilsport," Jane retorted.

"We'll come up with a better list later," she promised. "Or maybe we'll just find one on the internet. Now watch the movie, it's starting."

"Just let me get the popcorn." Jane grabbed the popcorn, poured it into a bowl, which he set on her lap. Then he placed a blanket around her shoulders and settled in next to her. To his surprise she looked amused rather than offended at his ministrations.

"Planning on finding a second blanket for my lap?" she teased.


Lisbon sighed as the opening credits rolled. Yes, Jane wasn't perfect. And no, he probably wasn't a nice guy. And yes, this might be the worst idea she'd ever had. But if she was going to be miserable all her life anyway, why shouldn't she try being miserable with another person for a little while? She smiled softly to herself and let her head drop onto Jane's shoulder as she moved ever so slightly closer to him. She might feel terrible again tomorrow, but at least at the moment she felt okay.

Jane turned and pressed a brief kiss into her hair, "There now," he whispered. "Isn't this better than some overly fancy dinner at a pretentious restaurant with a man who's at best bored with life, at worst sociopathic?"

Lisbon grinned softly, "Much." And she didn't even have to drive halfway to Marin County to get it. And at least with Jane could be herself, mainly because he'd know if she was being otherwise, but still. "Jane?" she asked.


"Will you drive me to pick up my car tomorrow?"

"Of course," he promised, tossing an arm around her shoulders.

Lisbon smiled. She had no idea what she was doing, what they were doing. But at least she could count on him for that.

Plus, it'd been a little while since she'd had someone to curl up on the couch and watch movies with, making silly comments. She'd always thought that was fun.

Maybe the two of them could be lonely, sad and desperate together.

Just for a little while.



Alright, 'tis the end. Like I said, I'd love to know what you thought.