The following tag is rated M, but also pretty light, fluffy, with only a touch of hurt! Enjoy!

Poker Face (Tag for 5.03)

Teresa Lisbon scrutinized her reflection in the standard CBI-bathroom-mirror in front of her- did she look like a woman who was out for seduction?

She sighed. She knew she didn't- she looked like a woman ready to arrest a culprit. Which was pretty much the way she always looked, even in her pajamas. Then again- which woman wanted to look as if she desperately needed to get laid?

A tiny bout of nausea bubbled up in her throat and told her unmistakably that it might not be a great idea to start anything with Gabe Mancini- she didn't even find him murderously attractive, and his quick temper reminded her of her father after ten shots of whiskey, which was NOT a memory she cherished… but damn, it had been long.

So long that she hadn't cared his "People don't like me usually like me and can't admit it"-line was so bad she should have cringed. So long any attention a man gave her made her feel weak in the knees. So long she couldn't remember what naked skin other than her own felt like under her fingertips. So long that if somebody had asked her what an orgasm was, she would actually have to ponder the question for some moments.

Problem was, Gabe Mancini wasn't the one man who could give her what she needed. What didn't mean that she couldn't flirt and feel like a woman again, just for a little while. She sighed once more. Her work-blouse was a little creased… oh hell, she would simply open another button and hope Mancini wouldn't notice that she hadn't even taken the time to change her clothes.

She left the ladies' room and made her way along the dark hallway to the bullpen.

Jane sat on his couch, a cup of tea in his hands, blowing a cloud of steam from the hot liquid. Lisbon hid beneath an oversized plant and watched him for a while. It always made her heart clench to see him like this. Lonely, lost, separated from the world inside his little bubble of misery.

Truth was she felt far too much for him. And every time she tried to get back to normal, tried to convince herself that these feelings were nothing but friendly, innocent, harmless, her resolve weakened a little bit. As if her love would just continue to grow until she had no choice but to look at it. And then, she would be toast.

Should she talk to him, say a casual goodbye? As if she had a choice. He would see her as soon as she passed him by, and not to say anything would be more than strange. Just a nonchalant "Ciao, see you tomorrow", nothing more.

She took a deep breath and walked slowly down the hallway.

Now a smile… not too much. Like this. Fine.

"Bye, Jane!"

There, that had sounded non- committedly enough, hadn't it?

"So you play poker with Gabe Mancini tonight?"

She stopped dead in her tracks. As usual, she wasn't even wondering how he knew about her date. Somehow, he knew everything, that was just the way it was.

She turned slowly and walked in his direction.

"Yes. So?"

Very bad-ass, agent Lisbon. How about showing him the finger for emphasis? She groaned.

Jane scooted over, making more room for her on his couch. But she felt vulnerable enough standing in front of him, so she decided not to take him up on his offer.

"I'm already late," she lied, "anything you wanted to tell me?"

He took a sip of tea and looked thoughtfully at her.

"You realize that Mancini could very well be Red John's mole? And that if he is, you are ill-equipped to handle that situation on your own?"

She chuckled humorlessly.

"So what? You want to come? Why do I have the feeling that you would end up with your nose broken or worse?"

Jane smiled at her.

"Oh, you mean because Mancini doesn't like me? I bet my charm could deflect that easily."

"Well, it wouldn't deflect his fist. I'd rather try my own charm on him, but thanks for the offer."

There was an emotion in Jane's eyes she couldn't quite name. Anger? Hurt? No. Only Red John made Patrick Jane angry, and Lisbon knew he wasn't sure that Mancini was the serial killer's mole. And about the hurt? Jane never let feelings like that show on his face. He always stayed unreadable.

"I don't want you to go." Jane said with a shrug.

Okay, it hurt. She so wished he would do more than play with her. Would actually mean what his lips were saying so easily.

"Yeeaaaahhhhh," she drawled, fighting to suck air into her lungs, "nice try, Jane. I'm done ruining my social life for your sake."

He smiled, but she saw something deeper inside his eyes once again, something that made the longing inside her resonate. She couldn't just get over how pretty he was, like something unhealthily sweet she craved so, so much, although she knew full well how much it could harm her. Like a pot of honey she just wanted to stick her hands into before she licked the sinfully delicious syrup off her…

She coughed. Time to get out of here, FAST.

But she couldn't help it. Despite the false smile he looked so unhappy and desirable and alone, every fiber of her body strained in his direction. It made her clumsy and careless.

"So, what are YOU going to do tonight?"

OH MY GOD! Had her ongoing frustration fried the sorry rest of her brain cells, dammit? Why had she said this, for god's sake? It was insensitive and rude and so totally unlike her, she couldn't believe she… oh no, his lips pursed into the most adorable pout she had ever seen, and she could barely swallow the whimper of dread that burst from her lungs. She knew where this was going, and she was the only one to blame.

"You're right, Lisbon," Jane said softly, putting his cup on the desk in front of him, "I have no right to stop you from having a social life just because I have none. That was thoughtless of me, I apologize. Enjoy your night, please."

She moaned. Were his eyes moist? Dammit.

With an exasperated little sound she got her cellphone out and dialed.

"Hey, Gabe, I'm sorry but… something… unexpected came up here… I… can't make it."

She hardly listened to Mancini's "oh, what a shame"-litany and was more than glad when she could end the call. She was as frustrated as she hadn't been in months, sexually and otherwise, and that was saying something. Her life was HELL. She flopped down next to Jane listlessly, ignoring the smug little smile he sent her. Bastard. But she had dug her own grave- so hey.

"So, my dear Lisbon," Jane said, the smile strong in his melodious voice, "what do we do with this evening now?"

She growled at him.

"WE do nothing with this evening- I go home and soak in my misery, and maybe in a hot bath, too. You stay here and write 'I'm not supposed to ruin my best friend's life' a hundred times on the flipchart."

He chuckled. He looked dangerously attractive, his blond curls slightly tousled, his clothes rumpled from a tough day at work. She couldn't stop staring at his lips, pale and soft-looking. She yearned to touch them. With her fingers, her mouth.

"So that's what you are," he whispered, "my best friend?"

She looked at him. Bright pools of green glass deep enough to drown in them.

"Lorelei isn't here at the moment. Is there someone else volunteering?"

"She's not my friend, Lisbon."

Her world was spinning slightly.

"No, but that's what she wants to be, isn't it?"

A sharp pain pierced her heart, opening a wound that started oozing blood immediately. She felt lost and torn, and all she really wanted was to be free of this feeling for some precious hours. She wanted to embrace normalcy for a while, normal food, normal clothes, normal thoughts, normal plans, normal wishes, normal relationships. There was no "normal" with Jane. Only this fierce longing she could neither place nor escape.

She was intent on trying nonetheless when she felt the touch of his fingers beneath her chin, sending a jolt of liquid bliss down her spine. She shuddered, violently. His touches made her melt, even when they were nothing but tiny blurs of contact, and she couldn't fight the sensation.

He lifted her face, made her look at him.

"Is that what you are afraid of all the time? That she could take me away from you?"

She could feel the tears pooling in her eyes.

NO. She didn't want to cry.

"Well, you were gone for six months. And during this time, you slept with her. You almost went out of your mind when she was taken from you. And ever since, you have been looking for her."

For a moment, she desperately wished that this was a normal relationship, that he would simply take her into his arms and hold her tight, make it all better with his warmth and a soul available to her. But his eyes were masked, cool. She shivered, tried to escape his touch. Was almost a little shocked when his grip on her chin tightened.

But before she could protest, she saw his eyes going soft, the mask slipping from his face like a piece of silk, flowing, catching the light on its way to the ground.

"I neglected you, didn't I" he whispered, and his voice was like a caress, raising goose bumps all over her body, "I used what I needed from you, but I left you worried and hurting in the end. I haven't been a good best friend lately, have I?"

She didn't say anything, unable to speak around the solid lump in her throat. She wanted out of his grip, away from him, every word told her that he could crush her far too easily, that every syllable could hurt her in irreparable ways.

His voice wrapped around her like ties of satin.

"But the problem is, you're more than my best friend, and if I want to use Lorelei to get Red John, I can't have you in my system right now. She can smell my feelings, Teresa. She knows that I don't love her, but she can't really know that I love you, either. But I'm not a good man, and I never said I was. I'm jealous, Lisbon, and possessive. "

He came closer, closer, she couldn't speak, could hardly squeeze air into her lungs. His lips brushed her cheek, so soft they were a mere whiff of touch.

He whispered into her ear, his breath hot against her skin.

"When Mancini dares to touch you, I'll rip his heart out and shove it down his throat."

He pressed a tiny kiss on her ear and pulled back, straightening, looking at her calmly with a gentle smile on his face.

Nothing but empty words, of course, made to shock her, but the fierce intensity in his eyes did the trick. She felt the tiny hairs at her neck stand on end.

"I'm sorry, Lisbon." Jane whispered," I can't let him touch you. It would destroy me, and I can't catch Red John jealous and hurting. But believe me- if I could give you your Prince Charming, I would do it."

She snorted.

"Obviously I wouldn't want him anyway. I want the devil- you."

He nodded slowly, thoughtfully.

"I know- and I'm especially sorry for that."

Her world seemed to crumble a little at that, confusion and pain hitting her like a bout of nausea. She needed to get out of here. NOW, before the sorry rest of her dignity dissolved into a golden sparkle of humiliation.

She got up, time slowing by the second. Her legs hurt, her whole body seemed cramped, her breath came in shuddering gulps. But she wouldn't cry in front of him.

She would simply become a nun. A heavily armed nun.

She managed to straighten and took a tentative step away from him when he moved, so fast he managed to surprise her.

His hands closed around her upper arms, his grip firm and unrelenting, pulling her against his body. And her senses sucked him in like the first breeze of summer. His scent, clean and fresh and male, underlined by the musk of his Eau de Cologne. The hardness of his chest against her breasts, the plains of muscle clearly palpable through their layers of clothing.

But she felt something else, too. The hard ridge of his erection against her stomach. He was enormously aroused. Her whole skin started to prickle.

His eyes were wild, almost mad, the feelings inside them brutal and dangerous. His voice was sharp, hissing when he spoke again.

"Do you think I planned to fall in love with you? Do you have any idea how hard it is for me to pretend to be in love with Lorelei when I'm thinking about YOU all the time?"

"Oh, it's hard for YOU, yes? Poor baby! Why don't you get yourself the cookie of solace and let me go, dammit?"

She wrenched her arms free, a little surprised at how strong he was, and walked to the lift on a vigorous stride, fueled by excitement and anger.


Jane was trembling from the emotions coursing through his body. He'd never felt upset like this, not when his hate for Red John wasn't involved, and it felt scary and invigorating to burn for love this time, a sensation he had buried deep inside his soul long ago..

He didn't even let her leave the bullpen, but only allowed her to take a few steps before he lunged for her and hauled her against his body. He groaned when her abdomen slammed against his rock-hard erection, but felt a small smile blossom on his lips when she didn't even hesitate for a second, claiming his lips in a kiss so passionate it made his toes curl.

Her lips were firm and hot, the texture so exquisite he shivered, nameless lust making him quake. He should push her away, this was too urgent, too dangerous, he should never, EVER give his body control over his mind, but when her tiny hands wandered to his groin, rubbing the enormous bulge tenting his pants, he gave up every pretense of self-restraint.

He had waited for years. He wouldn't wait a second longer.

With a deep growl he broke the kiss and pushed her in the direction of his couch, almost whimpering when she lay down on it, her arms stretched out over her head, the posture emphasizing her breasts. Her chest was heaving under her harsh breathing, and his hands trembled when he shed his jacket and carelessly tossed it to the ground.

He felt like a different person, free and unrestrained, and he'd been a prisoner so long he welcomed it like a rare ray of sunshine. Warmth flooded his body, he was so hard it hurt, and when he moved to cover her body with his, it felt so good he almost came then and there.

He grabbed the lapels of her blouse and ripped it open, the fabric rending with a piercing sound that made his arousal even sharper. He opened the front clasp of her bra, pushing the cups aside with budding impatience. He'd longed for eons to do this, and now the moment felt almost surreal, detached from a cruel reality that didn't allow him to love, to open his heart to the woman he needed more than his next breath.

He gently framed her breasts with his hands, her flesh firm and soft at the same time, her sweet scent intoxicating, addictive. He pressed his face against her warm skin, showering it with hungry kisses before he sucked her nipple into his mouth. Her whole body arched beneath him, a growl rising deep from her chest, and it was exhilarating to know how much she wanted him, how willing she was to be his despite everything he'd done, that he still hadn't lost her after all the innumerable times he had hurt her.

He used his teeth on her, just a gentle grazing that made her jerk with delight, and when she pushed her hands into his hair his whole body started to throb, his length burning, aching with need. He had to have her, right now. The sense of exposure had ceased, he wouldn't have cared if the whole of CBI had watched him consummate his longing, love so deep it tortured him, made him wild and careless, forgetting the hunt for the first time, submerged in Teresa Lisbon's embrace.

He straightened slowly, gazing down on her with hooded eyes, his fingers swiftly unbuttoning her jeans before he slid the snug fabric over her slim legs, throwing it to the ground next to his jacket.

She wore a flimsy pair of lace panties, and the green silk couldn't hide the large wet spot her arousal had left.

He smiled a secret smile at her, his own lust humming in his mind until there was nothing left of his control. He didn't want to take the time to get naked, wanted to mount her right now, but her fingers were already unbuttoning his vest, his shirt, and after all the misery he had caused her he couldn't deny her. He waited impatiently until her hands slid inside his shirt, wandering around his flanks to his back, before he opened his belt and zipper, pushing down his underwear as fast as he could, feeling clumsy and inept with his urgency, one leg on the ground, one on the couch.

As soon as he had freed his aching erection, Lisbon slipped from his grasp, scooting down between his spread legs until her luscious lips were level with his shaft, and when she kissed the taut skin, he thought he would lose consciousness any minute.

He roared like a beast and pushed his face against the worn leather of the arm rest, desperately trying to catch his breath.

Lisbon's hands wandered around his thighs to his buttocks, her grip firm enough to make him squirm with arousal. He felt her tongue on his length, soft and wet before her licks grew more forceful and words were lost to him.

Jane felt his resolve diminishing by the second, his lower body poised for the orgasm of the century, and when she finally took him into her mouth, so deep he could feel himself sliding down her throat, he bit into the arm rest to stop the scream that burst from his lungs. It felt so sinfully delicious he could hardly breathe through it, his lower body burned with the need to come. He wanted to stop her, but she just sucked him tighter, harder, and his voice was lost in the haze of ecstasy, thrusting softly into her mouth.

He knew he was lost when he looked down and watched her, her eyes closed in bliss, her soft, red lips wrapped around his shaft. His lower muscles clenched so hard it hurt before all tension exploded in a flood of liquid heat, his seed shooting into her mouth in long, voluminous spurts. He felt tears running down his cheeks, the sensations burning like fire all through his body, her hands on his body increasing the power of his release.

He hardly noticed when she finally released him, having drunk all he'd had to offer, and slowly scooted upwards until her head lay on the arm rest again. He just needed to lower his head to claim her flushed, slightly swollen lips, downy-soft under his. He tasted warmth and sweetness and a slight whiff of himself, enough to renew his lingering arousal and make his cock swell again. He groaned into her mouth. What was happening to him?

Lisbon once again pushed both hands under his open shirt, and when he looked at her, emotions burned his soul like wildfire, branding him as hers for all times. He almost scolded himself in frustration, this was dangerous beyond words, he should spend his time working on the con to seduce Lorelei instead of reveling in his love for Lisbon. But he felt warm and alive for the first time since his existence had become a living hell, and he couldn't stop touching her, his guardian angel, his love, his hope.

"Jane," she growled, "inside me- now."

He grinned softly and felt her spread her legs for him, she was so tiny, and he couldn't help touching her breasts again, letting his fingers slide down her ribcage before he ripped off her panties. He gently rubbed to fingers over her folds, so soft, so wet for him, more than ready.

"I love you." He whispered, and saw her shudder.

It was nothing but the truth, and he wanted to say more, wanted to undo some of the damage he had caused over the years, tell her something that would make all the tears un-cried in an instant. But he was who he was, a bad man, broken goods. He wasn't worth to be loved, especially not by someone like her. She had always been the good witch in his life, his protector, the wall that stood between him and disaster. He didn't deserve her.

"I love you, too, Patrick," she answered quietly, and it was the first time that she had used his given name, making him gasp with surprise.

Lisbon smiled and wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him closer, her eyes fluttering shut when he pushed inside her.

Jane groaned and forgot past and future, wrapping his arms around her before he pushed deeper, his hard length sliding into the soft tightness of her warm body. Damn, she was tight, he almost couldn't get in there, needed several short, hard thrusts to open her, make her receive him. She squirmed beneath him, her aroused moans in his ear spurring him on, driving him nuts with the need to fill her.

He rammed into her with several rough, deep thrusts, almost scared he would hurt her, until he heard her voice, her breath warming the skin on his neck.

"Harder- I need more."

He pushed up on his forearms and gave her a few vigorous, hammering strokes, watching in fascination as her eyes glassed over with pleasure, her moist lips parting in ecstasy. He stole a passionate kiss, wrapping his tongue around hers before he resumed his position, slamming into her as forceful as he could, his hips slapping against hers every time he made impact. It felt mind-blowing, delirious, his hard shaft engulfed inside her to the hilt, bathed in her heat from base to tip.

He shivered, but refused to slow down, grabbing her waist to hold her in place while she arched beneath him. He thrust even harder, pushing into her again, again, he saw the muscles in her stomach ripple, heard her moan in bliss, and knew he wouldn't stop until she had come in his arms, no matter what it cost him. He already felt the delicious pooling of pleasure at the small of his back, indicating how close he was again, but he refused to give in, pounding into her full force now, drinking her ecstasy like a drug.

The sounds of sex filled the silent room, wet flesh slapping, grinding, her lips moist and inviting, the tip of her tongue slipping out to lick them.

He shuddered, burned, her fingers digging into his back, pulling him closer, and he could tell the exact moment her passion exploded like a rocket, her muscles contracting so sharply around him he cried out her name in agony. She came until he couldn't stop the cascade of sensations any longer, the bubble of pleasure bursting, filling him to the brim, heat surging into every nerve ending.

He came copiously, the sharp jets of seed just wouldn't stop, her orgasm still rippling around him, prolonging his heaves until he was hoarse from screaming. He usually didn't scream, but he couldn't stop the wild sounds from emerging, he felt too good all over, his skin aflame, tingling with bone-deep satisfaction.

When he had finished, he had made a whole lot of mess, their bodies wet and sticky from his load, and he smiled tenderly when she sighed happily, her smug grin telling him this was exactly the way she liked it.

He carefully lowered his body onto hers, his kiss warm and playful, her taste enough to make him hard again.

"So," he whispered into her mouth, "still mad at me for making you miss your poker match?"

She chuckled.

"Well, I have to admit this was a much better way of making it up to me than your usual lame apologies."

He kissed her again, gently sucking on the tip of her tongue, making her writhe in pleasure.

He felt a pang deep inside his guts. He loved her so much, and had to hurt her all the time. But he couldn't let her fall for Mancini, the choleric bastard. Without Lisbon, everything was lost. She was his. Of course Jane couldn't stand up to the FBI-agent in a fight, but he would lie, deceive and use every trick in his arsenal to keep Teresa Lisbon to himself.

And yes- deep down, he was ashamed

"Why don't you try honesty, Patrick Jane," she whispered, "you have to trust me. The rest will find itself."

"I trust you," he said urgently, "I trust no one but you. No one."

She was right to be sick of his lies, but he knew that she still loved him the way he was. She was the only one who could do it, the only one who would never be repulsed by his true self. She had seen the obsession, the darkness, and had never given up on him.

God, how he loved her.

"Let's get dressed," she whispered, "if Jim comes up here we'll be a pretty interesting sight."

He smiled.

"Jim never comes up here when you're still in the building- and he already had his show when he looked at monitor 8 during the last hour."

She blushed fiercely.

"Oh my god! I totally forgot about the security camera, how could I… oh damn, what are we going to do?"

He laughed softly, the sound dissolving into a boyish giggle when she glared at him.

"He won't tell- he never does. And in 24 hours, the evidence deletes itself. Jim is one of the good guys. Believe me… he could blackmail the whole staff if he wanted to. But he's not keeping the footage."

"How do you know that?"

"I asked him. And he told me the truth."

Lisbon groaned, trying to put on her jeans while Jane's body still gave her cover.

"Oh my god, I will never do it in the office again!"

"Well, my attic is safe," he winked, "but I'm more interested in your bath tub at the moment."

She looked at him, almost scared, but in his eyes, she found a promise she hadn't expected. He would be there. She couldn't lose him.

"That," she whispered into the kiss she just couldn't help stealing, "sounds more than fine with me."

The End

I know, pretty light-weight, not really remarkable, but I needed something nice and fluffy. See you soon!