I'm gonna say it's angst and romance, because it's mainly about Lisbon's sad past and it brings them together... but there's even a bit of humour in there... Well, at least I think it's funny. So this is a pretty random fic.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
In hindsight, he could probably have been gentler about the matter. Grabbing her hip and bringing it barely an inch from his eyes was probably not the way to go.
But it shocked him. And thus he argues he was beside himself. With shock.
And why shouldn't he be?
They were sitting at their usual table, getting case closed pizza. It was a normal, comforting scene. Everything was as it should be. He was sitting next to her and they were chatting away.
Something caught his eye as she reached across the table to get another slice of pizza.
Her shirt rose up, revealing the smooth, milky skin of her hip and stomach. He wasn't checking her out when he saw it… Honest! It just happened to catch his eye. (Not that anyone could blame him... her hip was the smoothest, silkiest curve he's ever laid eyes on...)
A reddish line tore across her hip, blemishing the silky white skin.
It seemed healed, she must've had it years, maybe. But it was long and seemed to have gone pretty deep. She would definitely have needed stitches.
First reaction: His jaw drops. What? Who? Who would ever hurt her? His Lisbon, caring, loving, ridiculously selfless Lisbon? Who would dare give her such a large, deep scar? (The fact that she's in Law Enforcement crosses his mind for a split-second, but quickly leaves. It just doesn't feel like a work-scar.)
Second reaction: He wants to take a closer look. Inspect the damage. So, caused by a mixture of confusion, curiosity, worry and possible just not thinking, he what can only be described as grabs her hip.
She yelps in reaction. The team stares at the strange sight.
Did Patrick Jane just grab Lisbon's hip? And is he seriously staring at it, like it's the newest puzzle to solve?
He didn't expect her tiny fist to slam into his eye.
But, in hindsight, he probably should have.
He's standing at her door. She's probably still mad at him.
He couldn't blame her. It was odd and inappropriate and puzzling (even to himself) what he did. Why? And, for goodness sakes, what on earth came over him?
He knocked on her door. She didn't open. But he could see the shadows of her feet moving inside coming through the opening under the door.
"Lisbon, I know you're in there. I can see you moving from behind the door! Come on, how many times am I going to have to apologize?"
"What the hell were you even doing?"
"I was… looking at your scar…" He said in a small voice.
Silence in reply.
"How… how did you get it? I mean… It looks like it was pretty bad."
"How I got my scars is none of your concern, Jane." The hurt in her voice confirmed his hunch that this was personal.
"I'm not going to push you… I just…" He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair, leaning against the door. "Lisbon, whichever way you wanna go around it, I care about you. And… you got hurt. I just want to know…"
The knob begins to turn and Jane jumps away from the door.
She's wearing another oversized sports jersey. It's not the same one from the night he came to her apartment to prove her innocence. It's bigger and it falls over one shoulder. It takes his breath away.
But her face is haunted and her eyes are glassy and wet, like she's on the edge of tears. It knocks the wind out of him.
She lets him come in and closes the door behind them.
Once they're both sitting on the couch, she takes a deep breath.
Jane slowly nods, not wanting to rush her.
"My dad was an alcoholic. You know that much. He, uh… he used to beat my brothers and me…"
Jane takes her hand, rubbing the knuckles gently with his thumb. He knew about her father's problems with alcohol, but the idea never seemed really real. But the look she had on her face made it possibly more real than he could handle.
"One night it got really bad. He threw things, and shouted and hit… And then he took out a kitchen knife, and…" The first tear rolled down her cheek.
He couldn't bear to see her like this. He takes her in his arms, enveloping her in a warm, comforting hug while sobs escape her.
"I'm sorry…" He kisses her hair. "I'm sorry for making a scene, for bringing it up… I'm so sorry…"
She pulls away. "No, it's okay. Most of my other scars have healed with time. I used to rub oils and stuff on them to make them go away. But this one stayed." She motioned to her hip.
His fingers trace her hip through the fabric of the jersey.
"I think it's beautiful."
She chuckles, not believing him.
"No, really. I think it's gorgeous."
"Really?" She raises an eyebrow. He smiles at this. My Lisbon's back!
"I think everything about you is beautiful."
She looks up at him, surprised. Her eyes are wide and green and teary and beautiful.
He's inching closer. Her eyes are hypnotizing, he can't help himself.
He kisses her, a gentle, soft kiss that says everything that has to be said.
When they pull away, she looks down. "Wow." She whispers, softer than a breath.
He lifts up her chin with his finger so that she looks him straight in the eye.
"You're beautiful. Scars and all."
Okay, random little ficlet that made its way into my brain! Hope you liked it! Please review?