A/N: So, I had zero intention of writing a sequel to "The Tiger and the Lamb," but I found myself reluctant to leave that little world once that story was over, and then this happened. Now I am possibly in danger of writing a second Mentalist novel. Yikes. This chapter comes to you courtesy of Chiisana Minako, who urged me to break one of my cardinal rules and post something before it is actually complete. I have no idea when I will actually finish this thing and probably won't update it for quite awhile after this, so just pretend this is a one shot for now, okay?

Spoilers: Pretty much goes AU after 4x22, but anything before that is fair game.

Rating: T, for sexual references and some adult language. *Note: This chapter has an 'm-ish' section. I have marked that section with 'mmm' if you want to skip past that part.

Disclaimer: I don't own these characters, and I'm certainly not making any money off them.

xxx

Lisbon shivered and crossed her arms over her chest as she stood outside Jane's hotel room, acutely aware of every stray draft that struck her much more exposed than usual skin while she waited for him to open the door.

"Here we are," Jane said cheerfully. He opened the door to a luxurious suite and ushered her inside with a hand at the small of her back. His hand was warm through the fabric of the thin red dress she wore. "Make yourself at home."

Lisbon looked around. The room was lush, expansive. The plush carpet felt wonderful beneath her toes after the cold marble tiles in the lobby.

She was still barefoot. The forensics people had wanted the red shoes for evidence, and they were welcome to them, as far as she was concerned. She'd rather have walked a hundred miles barefoot than put those things back on. The decision to remain shoeless had definitely contributed to the fact that she hadn't been able to get warm for the past several hours, however. Especially after spending over an hour in the open cockpit of the helicopter that had brought them from their little adventure in the mountains back to Sacramento.

Normally, she enjoyed helicopter rides—there was something thrilling about being so far above the ground with the wind whipping through your hair. On the few occasions she'd had the opportunity to ride in helicopters in the past, however, she'd been wearing shoes and a blazer, at the very least. This time, the wind cut straight through her, and she'd been cold ever since.

Jane put his arm around her waist and pressed his lips to her temple. "I'm going to run you that hot bath I promised you."

Lisbon looked down at herself. She could certainly use it. Her feet were filthy and she wanted nothing more than to wash the horror of this day away. "Okay."

"Feel free to look around," Jane called as he disappeared into the bathroom.

Not knowing what else to do with herself, Lisbon did as he suggested, still not quite able to believe that she was here. She could barely believe she was still alive, let alone that Jane had kissed her—several times, actually—and that she'd agreed to come over to his hotel room for a bath. Especially that she'd agreed to come over to his hotel room for a bath. She wandered around the room, letting her gaze meander over the gilt mirrors and rich furnishings. The place was absurdly ornate, but was just as devoid of personal touches as his old hotel room had been. The only thing she could see that remotely looked as though it might belong to Jane was a battered paperback on the nightstand. She sat down on the bed and picked it up. She opened it, idly leafing through it.

It fell open to a place about two thirds of the way through, marked with a photograph as a bookmark. She stared at in shock for a moment, then snapped the book shut and hastily set it back on the nightstand, her heart beating unnaturally fast.

The photograph was of her. She had no idea when it had been taken or where he could have gotten it from, but it looked like it had been taken on the roof of the CBI. Her face was lit up by the early afternoon sunlight as she looked out over the city skyline, apparently lost in thought.

"Bath's almost ready," Jane announced from the doorway.

Lisbon jumped about a mile. "Great," she managed.

He frowned at her. "What's the matter?"

She tried to smile reassuringly. "Nothing. Everything's fine."

His eyes strayed to the book on the nightstand. "Ah. Found the photograph, did you?"

He crossed to sit down on the bed next to her and reached across her to pick the book up off the nightstand. He opened the book and took out the photograph, looking at it fondly. "It's a good picture of you," he commented.

"Wh-where did it come from?" Lisbon stammered.

He shrugged. "I took it."

"You did? When?"

He tapped his index finger to his lips, considering. "Mm, about nine months ago, I'd say."

Lisbon couldn't think of a reasonable response to this. "I didn't even know you owned a camera," she said inanely.

"I don't. I took it on a phone. It's pretty good quality, considering," he mused.

"There's no way you took that on that ancient flip phone of yours," Lisbon said incredulously.

He raised his eyebrows. "I never said I took it on my phone."

"But then—"

"Ah, yes, I'm afraid that was a crime of opportunity," Jane said, not sounding the least bit remorseful. "You know Markoff?"

"Yeah," Lisbon said warily.

"On the day in question, Markoff very carelessly left his phone in his messenger bag, right where I could see it. And there you were, standing there waiting for your coffee, looking absolutely breathtaking. You were completely lost in your thoughts and therefore unlikely to notice if I took a quick snapshot. How could I resist?"

"You stole Markoff's phone?" She didn't know why this should be so shocking to her. She could think of a lot of things he'd done that were much worse.

"Steal is such an ugly word," Jane hedged. "I temporarily liberated it from his possession, that's all. He never even knew I took it."

"How did you get the picture from him, then?" Lisbon demanded.

"I emailed it to myself from his phone," Jane said proudly.

This was even more shocking. "I didn't even know you had an email account."

"Ah, well, technically, I emailed it to Rigsby," Jane admitted. "That was the trickiest part of the operation. Not only did I have to teach myself how to use the email function on Markoff's phone in a limited period of time, I was forced to blackmail Rigsby into showing me how to send it to a drugstore so I could order a print of it and promising not to tell you about it."

Lisbon had no idea what to say to this. "I see."

He looked at her. "Are you going to freak out about this now?"

"I'm not freaking out," Lisbon lied.

He gave her a little smile. "Poor Lisbon. Forced to face so much evidence of my pining for you in such a short period of time. Perhaps it would have been easier for you if I'd had the opportunity to acquaint you with the idea more gradually."

"Pining?" Lisbon spluttered.

"Yes, I believe that is the correct term to describe a prolonged state of hopeless longing," Jane said matter of factly.

Lisbon made a strangled noise but was unable to form any other response.

He put his arm around her and kissed her hair. "Don't worry, Lisbon. We can take things slow while you get used to the idea. Now, you should take your bath while the water's still hot."

Still reeling, Lisbon retreated to the bathroom.

The sight of the bathroom temporarily distracted her from her unsettling conversation with Jane. Decadent didn't begin to describe it. This was the Versailles of bathrooms. It was bigger than her first apartment. The room was dominated by a huge sunken tub full of steaming hot water topped with a mountain of lavender scented bubbles which were threatening to spill over the side at any moment.

Lisbon barely spared a glance for the rest of the lavishly outfitted room. She put the disconcerting conversation with Jane out of her mind and stripped off her clothes in the blink of an eye. She let her clothes fall to the floor, kicking the hated red dress aside. She climbed into the tub and sank into the water with a sigh of pleasure. The hot water stung the cuts on her arm and chest, but it was completely worth it.

For the first ten minutes, Lisbon let her mind go utterly, blissfully blank, focused entirely on the heavenly sensation of the hot water leeching the tension of the day from her body.

Eventually she got around to the usual rituals required to actually get herself clean. She washed her hair. Her head was a bit tender on one side, where Russo had hit her. She had a flash of his hands on her, brushing her hair aside and smelling her neck. She rubbed her scalp violently, then scrubbed at her neck until the skin was red and raw. She didn't want to think about that.

She focused on reminding herself that Ben was safe and unharmed. That was all that mattered. Her team was safe. Jane hadn't been killed or arrested, which frankly was nothing short of a miracle. She had much to be thankful for, and the rest didn't bear thinking about. She traced her fingers over the place where her cross usually lay against her chest and took a moment to thank God from delivering the people she cared about from harm. She thanked God for her own life, too. She'd spent most of that day thinking she wouldn't live to see the sun set, let alone that she would be here in Jane's hotel room, in his bathtub, with him waiting for her on the other side.

She felt a delicious thrill of anticipation at the mental images that thought evoked. She didn't know what to make of the photograph of her he'd hidden away for himself for so many months and that he'd gone to such lengths to procure, let alone his claim that he was in love with her. The emotional implications of embarking on a new relationship with Jane were downright terrifying, but she had to admit to herself that she was eager to explore a more physical relationship with him. That was one area where she was confident she could hold her own.

She soaked for a long time. Her mind wandered to the kisses they'd shared by the lake. She found herself wondering idly if Jane might come into the room and try to finagle his way into the bathtub with her. It would be like him to barge in on her unexpectedly. It would be a refreshing change if instead of yelling at him, she invited him to join her. She indulged herself by allowing herself to speculate in some detail what bath time with Jane might be like. This was such a pleasant way to occupy her thoughts that she found herself lingering in the bathtub, half-hoping Jane would invite himself in and make the fantasy a reality. Eventually, however, she was forced to conclude that Jane was not, in fact, formulating any plans to seduce her in the bathtub. He never did cooperate with her favorite ideas.

His failure to cooperate with the bathtub fantasy was a little disappointing, but she was so relaxed from her long soak that she resolved not to let it get her down. Jane probably considered seducing a woman in the bathtub as too unoriginal, anyway. He was probably concocting some absurdly complicated scheme to manipulate her into bed instead. This was a cheering thought. Though Lisbon was of the opinion the classic methods didn't need to be doctored up with convoluted schemes, she had to admit (to herself at least) that part of her was very much looking forward to seeing what Jane came up with in that regard.

She finally emerged from the bath only to realize she didn't have anything to wear. She stood there for a moment, flummoxed. There was no way she was putting that dress on again, and the thought of putting on the underwear she'd been wearing all day back on was equally distasteful. Dammit. She should have insisted on stopping at her apartment to grab a few things before agreeing to come over here. She'd have to ask Jane to find her something.

She wrapped herself in a towel, reflecting philosophically that if he didn't decide to tease her mercilessly about it, perhaps this situation could help jumpstart the whole seduction thing. Calling out to Jane and informing him she had no clothes on certainly had the potential to send them down that course, anyway.

She dried herself off and wrapped herself in a thick white towel, then walked over to the door. "Jane," she called out. "Is there a robe or something out there I can wear?"

There was no answer.

"Jane?"

Still nothing. She cautiously poked her head out of the bathroom, clutching the towel tightly to her.

Jane was nowhere to be seen.

What the hell? Lisbon huffed in exasperation. Typical. He'd invited her over here just to disappear at the first possible opportunity. Being abandoned in a strange hotel room alone with no clothes on was not what she'd had in mind when she'd agreed to this.

Well, she couldn't go find Jane and kill him until she found something to cover herself. She went out into the main room and found the closet. There were two luxuriant robes hanging there, but when she saw the price tags affixed to each collar, Lisbon stepped back in alarm, resolving not to do so much as drip on them, let alone put one on. So much for that idea. She retreated from the closet and went to a dresser that looked like it could have come from Louis XIV's bedroom. She hesitated, then dug through the drawers to see if Jane had a t-shirt or something she could wear. Ultimately she settled on an old dress shirt that had seen better days and a pair of Jane's boxers. She had to roll the boxers up at the waist about four times to keep them from falling off her, but at least she was relatively decent.

She decided not to kill Jane after all. He disappeared all the time, but he did have the re-assuring habit of always coming back to her in the end. The best thing to do with carry on with her own affairs as usual and he would turn up eventually.

She found a comb and stood by the window, staring out over the city skyline as she worked the comb through the heavy waves of her wet hair.

Jane found her there, dripping on the carpet as she worked her way through the last of the tangles. He was humming a little under his breath when he entered, carrying a large silver tray laden with food, complete with silver dish covers. A single peach and yellow rose in a delicate glass vase completed the effect. When he saw her, he stopped and stared, frozen in the doorway, the tune he'd been humming dying on his lips.

"Hey," she greeted him. "I was wondering when you were going to turn up again."

He didn't answer. He just very carefully set the tray down and crossed the room to where she stood, comb in hand.

She opened her mouth to deliver a tart remark about him disappearing on her, but before she could, he gathered her in his arms and his mouth descended on hers.

Lisbon blinked when he released her several minutes later. "What brought that on?" she asked, a little breathlessly.

"You're wearing my clothes," Jane said. "You just got out of the bath and smell amazing. And I almost lost you today. Any one of those conditions by itself would be sufficient cause for kissing. You hit me with all three at once. I was completely powerless not to kiss you."

Lisbon considered this. "Good to know."

He grinned at her. "Did you miss me?"

She scowled. "I admit when you invited me back to your place, I wasn't expecting you to abandon me to my own devices at the first opportunity."

"I didn't abandon you. I went to find food as part of my mission to provide and care for you for the rest of our days. Neither of us have eaten anything since breakfast, and there has been quite a lot of activity since then."

His mission to provide and care for her for the rest of their days? "You couldn't have just told me that you were stepping out for a few minutes?"

"I wanted to surprise you."

She rolled her eyes. "Couldn't you have saved your next surprise until the day after we were both kidnapped and nearly killed by a serial killer and almost two dozen of his closest friends?"

"I'm sorry," he said contritely. "I thought I'd be back before you got out of the bath and you wouldn't realize I'd been gone."

"Why'd you have to leave in the first place?" Lisbon complained, knowing she was pouting but unable to summon the will to care.

He kissed the pout off her lips. "Forgive me. I would have just ordered room service, but the kitchen was closed, so I was forced to resort to less traditional methods to acquire sustenance for the two of us."

"You broke into the hotel kitchen?"

"Yes, it's quite a nicely outfitted one."

She glanced over to the tray. "And you stole from it."

"Meh, they won't miss it. Besides, with what I'm paying them, this place can afford to spot me a few eggs." He took her by the hand and drew her towards the little table in the corner of the room. "Come on. I made us omelettes."

He sat her down at the table and retrieved the tray, setting it down in front of her and removing one of the silver dish covers with a flourish. "Dinner is served, milady," he said gallantly.

Lisbon rolled her eyes, but she had to admit the eggs smelled heavenly. Jane sat down opposite her and uncovered his own dish. He gestured at her with his fork. "Dig in."

Lisbon nearly moaned in pleasure when she took the first bite—the eggs were light and buttery, the flavor of the sweet peppers and mushrooms exploding on her tongue. "Mm. If you do decide to quit the CBI, I could always hire you to be my personal chef."

"Really?" Jane said, pleased. "I assure you, my rates are very reasonable."

"I don't know," she said. "These are pretty good. I'm not sure I'll be able to afford you."

He gave her a wicked smile. "You could always kiss the cook. That would be ample reward for services rendered, in my opinion."

"In that case, I believe I've already paid my debt," she teased him, taking another bite. "You exacted payment the minute you walked in the door."

Jane grinned, unfazed. "Ah, but that was just for the main course. You haven't had dessert yet. I will required a generous tip for that extra delicacy."

Lisbon perked up. "Dessert?"

Jane wordlessly lifted the cover off one of the smaller dishes to reveal a cup of chocolate mousse.

Lisbon stared at the decadent treat, her mouth watering. He'd done this on purpose. He knew chocolate was her weakness. "I thought you said you were never going to seduce me over a meal," she accused.

He raised his eyebrows. "I'm not seducing you over a meal."

"You're not?" Lisbon was skeptical, but she couldn't keep the slight note of worry out of her voice. If he wasn't going to seduce her, why the hell had he invited her over?

"Certainly not. Why should I? I've already laid the groundwork for my seduction, after all. Now I'm just feeding you."

"Oh, you have, have you?" Lisbon said, relieved that seduction was apparently still on the menu, so to speak, but also confused. "When was that? I must have missed it."

"In the back of the trunk, of course. Far more original than seducing a woman over a meal."

Lisbon snorted. "I know you never went to high school, but just so you know, seducing a girl in the back of a car is hardly original. One might even call it 'sophomoric,'" she drawled.

"That only applies to the backseat," he informed her. "Seduction in the trunk is an entirely different matter."

She shook her head and kept eating. She finished her eggs before Jane did and fidgeted in place all of fifteen seconds before Jane noticed and told her dryly not to wait to start in on dessert on his account. Needing no further encouragement, she practically dived into it headfirst. It had been a long, hellish day, after all, and she deserved a little indulgence. If things had gone differently, she might not have eaten chocolate ever again. She closed her eyes and savored the sweet richness on her tongue.

When she opened her eyes, Jane was staring at her. "What?" she said self-consciously.

He shook his head. "I was just thinking one of my new goals in life is going to be putting that look on your face without food."

"Now you're in competition with yourself to please me?"

"You could say that," he responded. "I know which side of me I want to win."

She blushed. "Sounds like I win either way."

"That's the plan." He reached out and took her hand in his. "I'm going to make you so happy, Teresa," he said seriously, bringing her knuckles to his lips and pressing a soft kiss to them. "I promise you that."

A jolt of electricity shot up her arm at the contact, and Lisbon fought the irrational urge to pull her hand away. She gave him a weak smile, having no idea how to respond to such a declaration. She could handle teasing Jane, and she was thinking she was really going to enjoy seductive Jane, but serious, romantic Jane made her decidedly nervous.

He sighed, probably guessing some of what she was thinking, and released her hand at last. She tucked it under the table and clenched her fingers into a fist, annoyed at herself for her unreasonable reaction to Jane's sweetness. Unable to meet Jane's eye, she ducked her head and focused on her dessert, trying to recover her equilibrium. "This is really amazing," she said finally, taking another bite of the mousse.

Jane took a bite of the chocolate dessert. He made a face. "I really should have let it set longer. This is a dish that shouldn't be rushed. I'm afraid I was in a bit of a hurry to get back up here."

"You're saying you can make something better than this?" Lisbon asked, incredulous. "You've been holding out on me all these years. Any other hidden talents I should be aware of?"

He smiled at her. "I expect you'll discover a few more, in due time."

Well, she'd walked right into that one. She made a face at him and finished her dessert.

He slid his half-eaten dessert to the middle of the table in silent invitation. Lisbon didn't even hesitate. Who knew the next time she'd have an opportunity to eat chocolate mousse homemade by Patrick Jane?

They ate the rest of the mousse in silence and he let her have the last bite. After she finished, he leaned back in his chair and gave her a lazy grin. "I'll take that tip now."

She didn't answer, just got up and walked around the table without her eyes leaving his. She boldly took a seat on his lap, perching herself sideways across his legs. She leaned forward and slowly and deliberately took his face in her hands to kiss him. Jane's hands tightened on her hips in an almost painful grip. She kissed him slowly, languidly, her fingers tracing his jaw as she delved his mouth with her tongue.

Jane slid his hands up her sides and reached for her face, but in doing so, he accidentally brushed against the place on her collarbone where Russo had cut her with his knife. Lisbon couldn't help flinching. Jane froze, horrified. "I'm sorry," he blurted out, his fingers coming to rest the skin beneath the long gash as though he thought he might be able to soothe the wound away with his touch. "Are you okay?"

Lisbon dropped another soft kiss on his lips. "I'm fine," she said, hoping to reassure him. "It just stings a little, that's all."

Jane leaned his forehead on her shoulder and drew in several deep breaths, obviously trying to get himself back under control. Lisbon tangled her fingers in the curls at the back of his neck in a soothing gesture and suppressed a sigh. When he raised his head, she gave him a sad little smile. "It has been a hell of a day. Maybe we should just get ready for bed."

He nodded wordlessly. She climbed out of his lap and then gave him her hand, pulling him out of his chair. He still looked distraught, so she gave him another smile, this one more of a lop-sided grin. "I don't suppose you stole an extra toothbrush for me while you were down there raiding the hotel store cupboards?" she said in a teasing tone.

He said nothing, but reached into his breast pocket and produced a plastic wrapped toothbrush emblazoned with the hotel's logo.

She laughed in delight. "My hero."

He gave her a tired smile. "I'm afraid that's your role in our relationship, my dear."

She took the toothbrush from him and headed into the bathroom. He followed her, taking the toothpaste from her after she'd applied it to her new toothbrush and putting some on his own. They brushed their teeth in silence, staring at each other in the mirror over the sink. Lisbon was torn between being a little alarmed at the domesticity of the shared nighttime ritual and thinking how grossly unfair it was that Patrick Jane could look downright hot while performing what should have been a perfectly mundane task such as brushing's one teeth.

After they'd finished, Jane wrapped his arms around her from behind and kissed her hair. Lisbon turned in his arms, being careful not to wince when his arm rubbed against her the cut on her arm. She kissed him again. Mm. Minty Jane. Yum.

She couldn't help laughing a little when they broke apart.

Jane smiled at her, not getting the joke. "What's so funny?"

"We are," she told him. "You have to admit, we're acting a little ridiculous."

"How so?"

"After barely ever touching each other for over ten years, we're suddenly acting like we just invented kissing and can't go five minutes without it."

He slid his hand down her back and drew her closer to him. "We're just making up for lost time."

He sounded a little sad about that, so she kissed him again to cheer him up. "Bed?" she said hopefully once they'd separated.

He sighed. "I suppose I should get cleaned up a little first," he said reluctantly.

He really was being ridiculous. "I think I can survive without you for the length of time it takes you to take a shower," she said dryly.

"It's not you surviving without me that I'm worried about," he said, leaning forward for another kiss.

She swatted him playfully and gave him a little shove towards the shower. "Go. I'll be right outside."

"Promise?" he said pathetically.

She rolled her eyes. "Yes. Where the hell do you think I'm going to run off to in this getup? I'm pretty much stuck here until you help me get some real clothes, if you hadn't noticed."

"Oh, I noticed," he said. "I planned for it, in fact."

"You planned for it? What does that mean?"

"Why do you think I refused to let you go to your apartment to pack a bag before coming here?" he asked. "I knew you wouldn't want to put that dress back on after your bath and I had to make sure you had no means of escape. You might have panicked and tried to sneak away the minute my back was turned. Although actually the greater danger was that if I let you go home first, your practical streak would have argued you out of coming over here in the first place."

"So your plan was to strand me here without any clothes so I couldn't leave without you?"

"Yes. And it worked brilliantly, didn't it?" Jane sounded like his usual self, unbearably pleased with himself.

Lisbon shook her head. He was completely ridiculous. "Take your shower."

Lisbon went back into the main room and climbed into the massive bed. She burrowed into the blankets with a sigh of contentment. This bed was amazing. The mattress was by far the most comfortable she'd ever lain on. The sheets were crisp and clean, the blankets thick and warm, and the pillow soft against her cheek. She closed her eyes, finally letting herself feel the exhaustion she'd been staving off for hours. It crashed over her, pressing her into the pillow and mattress. Fortunately, she was entirely too tired to think, for which she was grateful. She really didn't want to spend any more time thinking about Russo tonight, at least. She would deal with his death and its implications later. She offered another quick prayer of thanks that they'd all survived this horrible mess, and asked God for peace for herself and Jane so they could deal with the fallout with as much strength and grace as possible.

Jane crawled into bed beside her a few moments later, smelling delicious. He captured her mouth as soon as he was halfway under the covers, half covering her body with his own. Lisbon registered with a shock the feeling of his bare skin against hers—he was wearing nothing but boxer shorts. She felt a stirring of energy as he slid his hand under her shirt to rest on her waist and pull her closer to him. She rested one hand on his naked bicep and let the other one drift up to trace the lines of his bare chest. Perhaps she wasn't quite as tired as she'd thought.

"Good shower?" she murmured into his mouth.

"Too long. I had to go well over five minutes without kissing you," Jane responded, flopping down on his back and pulling her towards him.

Lisbon glanced at the clock on the bedside table. "Yes, you almost cleared the ten minute mark," she said dryly.

"A Herculean effort for which I deserve tremendous praise and rewards beyond measure," he yawned.

"You expect tremendous praise for taking a shower in under ten minutes?"

"Fine, I'll settle for the reward," he said, claiming another kiss.

She slid one leg between his and kissed him back, running her hand down his chest.

Jane sighed in contentment when she released him. He met her gaze, his own eyes half-lidded and dark. "Beyond measure," he said hoarsely.

There was no response to that except to kiss him again, obviously.

His thumb stroked her bare hip under her shirt and she squirmed, amazed at how strongly such a slight touch from him affected her. Heat pooled in her belly as he kissed her neck. She drew her hand down his stomach, the sensation of his skin beneath her fingertips thrilling after so long thinking this was a forbidden pleasure she would never know. He touched his tongue to the pulse point in the hollow of her throat and she arched into him. Her hand started to wander south of the waistband of his boxers, eager to open new avenues of exploration between them.

"Ah," Jane gasped, pulling back abruptly as she grew closer to her quarry. He put his hand over hers to still it. "Perhaps we should wait on that a bit, my dear."

Lisbon drew back, hurt and incredulous. "Wait? What the hell for?"

Jane swallowed. "It's just—a lot happened today. We're both exhausted. I think we need to have some important discussions with each other before we take that step. And it's too late to get into all that right now."

"You're the one who started this," she accused him. "I didn't see you wanting to talk when you got into this bed a few minutes ago."

He winced. "I know. I got carried away."

"Are you seriously refusing to have sex with me?" Lisbon demanded incredulously.

He kissed her on the tip of the nose, which was infuriating. "Not refusing," he clarified. "Just… delaying, ever so slightly."

Lisbon huffed in exasperation. "We've already delayed long enough, if you want my opinion," she grumbled.

He sighed. "I want this to be romantic, Lisbon. I don't want us to rush ourselves. I want the chance to woo you."

"Huh," Lisbon grunted, dubious. Trust Jane to overcomplicate things. She wanted him, and he obviously wanted her, if the impressive tent in his boxers was anything to go by, so what was the problem?

He kissed her forehead and returned his head to his pillow. "Sleep, Teresa."

Was this what he meant by building a life together? she thought uncharitably as she punched her own pillow back into shape and settled back down on it. Having someone to sleep next to each night, safely separated by hundreds of dollars' worth of Egyptian cotton? Well, that wasn't going to cut it. She'd already lived a sexless existence for far too long. If she was going to have to get a life, which Jane seemed to be rather insistent about, there was going to have to be sex involved, that was all there was to it. If Jane had some objection to that idea, he would have to get over it. Soon.

Come over to my place for a bath, indeed, she thought furiously. Jane was the only man on the planet who could say those words and not mean them as a euphemism for something more. She really should have known. It was just like him to get her all hot and bothered and then leave her wanting more. She had ten years of evidence to this effect, didn't she? All that evidence supported only one conclusion.

Patrick Jane was the world's biggest tease.

mmm

Lisbon fumed for a few minutes on her side of the bed, but annoyingly, Jane was right. She was too exhausted to maintain any kind of intense emotion for long, and sleep drew her in after only a few minutes of plotting revenge against Jane for denying her sex.

She woke a few hours later to find Jane wrapped around her like an octopus, snoring gently in her ear. Honestly, he was impossible.

She needed to pee. She gently extricated herself from his grasp, ignoring his grunt of protest as she climbed out of bed. She went to the bathroom, then washed her hands and drank a glass of water. She stared at herself in the mirror, examining the nick on her neck and the longer cuts on her arm and shoulder. She had a few bumps and bruises, but she'd been very lucky, considering. She touched her throat, remembering the feel of Russo's hand closing around her neck. Very lucky.

She turned the light off and went back to bed. But when she got there, Jane was thrashing around in his sleep and murmuring her name in a tone of great distress.

Poor Jane, she thought with a sigh. He couldn't catch a break, even in his sleep. She crawled into bed beside him again and laid a tentative hand on his shoulder. "Jane," she said softly. "Wake up. It's just a dream."

"Teresa," he gasped, his face twisting in pain.

She touched his face. "Jane. It's me. I'm okay. I'm safe. Everyone's safe. You need to wake up now."

He woke with a start and sat bolt upright in bed, eyes wild. "Lisbon," he said, panicked, reaching for her.

"I'm here, Jane," she said soothingly, wrapping her arms around him. "I'm right here."

He clutched her to him, taking huge, heaving gulps of air. She could feel his heart hammering against his ribcage. "Sh," she said, rubbing circles on his back. "It's okay. I'm here."

"Don't leave me," he gasped, squeezing her so tightly she was afraid he might crack her ribs. "Don't ever leave me."

"I'm not going anywhere, Jane. I'm here," she repeated.

"You're not hurt?" he said anxiously, his hands roaming up and down her sides as though he were checking she was all in one piece.

"I'm fine, Jane." She kissed his cheek, his eyelids. "I'm fine."

She kissed him lightly on the lips, hoping to reassure him. This seemed to calm him a bit, so she did it again. And again, letting herself linger a little longer with each press of her lips against his.

He sucked in a sharp breath and kissed her back, sliding his tongue into her mouth and tangling it with hers. His hands slipped around behind her and slid up and down her back beneath her shirt, affirming that her skin was smooth and unbroken.

Lisbon closed her eyes and pressed herself against him, the warm roughness of his hands against her bare skin almost more than she could bear.

Lisbon couldn't have said exactly when the caresses turned from warm and comforting to heated and demanding. All she knew was that one minute they were sharing soft, sweet kisses, and the next, they were clutching at each other desperately, moving against one another other urgently. She was looking into Jane's eyes and he was wide awake, eyes dark with desire.

He reached for the hem of her shirt and she went to help him. The too-large shirt slipped over her head easily and was tossed aside. He tugged the boxers over her hips and down her legs as she toed his off of him. Then he slid inside her.

Lisbon gasped at the sensation of having him hard inside her. She wrapped her legs around him, pulling him deeper. They moved together, and all reason and patience were lost. The only thing that mattered was the slide of his skin against hers, the pressure of his mouth covering hers, and the sweet, dark taste of him. He breathed heavily into her neck as his hands roamed over her body, sending heat coiling through her veins at every touch. They built to a frantic pace, both half-mad with their need for each other.

Lisbon came ridiculously quickly, and Jane followed her soon after, her name a cry on his lips.

Afterwards, they collapsed back onto the bed, both gasping for air after their exertions.

"That was… not what I planned," Jane panted, trying to get back his breath.

"Plans are overrated," Lisbon told him smugly, extremely satisfied in more ways than one. It pleased her beyond measure that this once, Jane had abandoned his plans and all semblance of control to surrender himself to the moment. For her. She was a little breathless herself.

"I was going to woo you," Jane insisted.

She rolled her eyes. Jane was the only person she knew who could use a word as perfectly ridiculous as the word 'woo' in normal conversation and mean it absolutely seriously. "You can woo me next time."

"I never planned to jump you in the middle of the night after having a nightmare," Jane said, not the least bit mollified. "My plan was to raise you to new heights of sexual satisfaction, the likes of which you'd never experienced before."

She decided not to inform him he'd pretty much already cleared that bar. "Sounds like a good plan to me."

Jane was obsessing. "I usually spend a lot more time on foreplay," he informed her. "I was just—overcome. Don't judge me too hastily. I can do better."

"Do you hear me complaining?" she said, exasperated.

"No, but then, that's not exactly a ringing endorsement," Jane huffed. "I don't want you to just 'not complain.' I want you to be so impressed by my lovemaking skills you can't stop yourself from coming back for more."

Lisbon shook her head. "Your ego really does know no bounds, does it?"

"This is not about my ego, Teresa," he said sternly. "It's about making you feel loved and cherished. It's about using every tool in my arsenal to keep you with me."

Lisbon wasn't sure what to make of this statement. "Sex is a tool in your arsenal?"

"Absolutely. How else am I going to manage it?" He fixed his gaze on her. "I'm going to make you weak with love and speechless with passion. I'm going to addict you to my presence in your bed through the strength of the multiple orgasms I will give you on a daily basis."

Lisbon opened her mouth to respond, but had no idea what to say to that. He sounded serious. Talking about setting the bar high. "I suppose this is probably a good time to mention I'm on the pill," she said finally, guiltily realizing this was a conversation they should have had before attacking each other in the middle of the night.

"I know that," Jane said, his tone clearly communicating that he didn't understand why she would bother pointing out something so obvious.

She looked over at him. "What do you mean you know that? How the hell could you know that?"

Jane rolled his eyes. "You've been on the pill since you were seventeen. Not only does it help regulate your period, but after being saddled with the task of raising three younger brothers as a young woman, you were terrified of getting pregnant before you were good and ready, so you got a prescription before you were even sexually active. You've been extremely diligent about taking the pill every morning ever since."

She frowned. "I never told you that."

Jane yawned. "I divined it."

She glared at him. "Well, excuse me, but I happen to believe that mind reading is not an acceptable alternative to actually discussing a birth control strategy."

He raised his eyebrows. "I didn't hear you bringing it up."

"That's because I knew I was covered," she retorted, peeved to realize he was right. She hadn't exactly been thinking coherent thoughts…

"But you didn't know I was," he pointed out. "By your logic, you should have insisted I wear a condom. How could you know I was clean?"

She gaped at him. "Because you haven't been with a single person since your wife."

He nodded. "Right. And you know that about me. Just like I know you're clean because you haven't slept with anyone in over a year and you're compulsive about going to your regular checkups."

"Hmph," Lisbon grunted, recognizing she was losing this argument and distracted by the disturbing realization that she was the first person Jane had slept with since his wife. Not that she wanted him to have slept with anyone else, but it made the fact that they'd just practically devoured each other a frighteningly momentous event. Being the first woman he'd slept with since his wife suddenly felt like a tremendous responsibility.

"The point is, we know each other," Jane continued. "We know each other well enough to know neither of us would ever do anything to endanger the other one's health and safety."

"You're saying you thought of all of this just now?" she said skeptically.

"No," he admitted. "I was thinking about it earlier, when your sneaky little hands were testing my resolve after the shower."

"I know we've gotten the timing a bit wrong, but I still think it's an important conversation to have," Lisbon said stubbornly.

Jane shook his head. "You're only bringing this up because you're emotionally overwhelmed and your subconscious thinks talking about birth control with me will be a good mood-killer."

Lisbon stopped. Could that be true? Was she really trying to sabotage herself so immediately after being granted her heart's desire? She had a sinking feeling he might actually be right about that.

Jane went on without waiting for a reply. "Well, I've got news for you, Lisbon. It would take a lot more than a talk about family planning methods to kill my mood right now. I just made love with a beautiful woman who has just proven beyond a shadow of a doubt that she is just as amazing in bed as she is out of it. So calm down and stop trying to ruin our afterglow, because you aren't going to succeed."

"Excuse me for trying to be a responsible adult," Lisbon grumbled, finally finding her voice and making one more attempt to defend herself against the charge he'd laid against her.

"You're just being obstinate now," Jane chided her. "Honestly, Lisbon, do you think there is any other woman on the planet with whom I would lose myself in a fit of passion?"

Lisbon blinked.

Jane sighed. "Let me rephrase. Do you really see me allowing myself to lose control with someone I didn't know and trust?"

"I suppose not," Lisbon said grudgingly.

"Right. Like I said, we know each other. That means it's safe to lose control with each other." He put his arm around her and pulled her towards him, arranging her so she was half on top of him. He kissed the top of her head. "Now, stop freaking out about this and get some sleep. Everything's going to be fine."

She settled herself more comfortably against him, telling herself that she was overreacting. He was right. She should just relax and enjoy this closeness while they had it. "You seem awfully sure of that."

"I am."

She closed her eyes. "Okay."

Right now, lying against him in the darkness on the edge of sleep, hovering between the trials of today and the worries of tomorrow, she had to admit it wasn't at all difficult to believe that what he said was true. They'd survived. They were safe. Her team was intact. Russo could never touch them again. And she had Jane to keep her warm.