AN: This is fairly pointless, but I drank too much coffee (ha! like there's any such thing) and needed to direct my energy somewhere. Hope you enjoy!

Side note: Yes, I did take down On the Edge of the Deep. My apologies to those of you who were enjoying it, but the whole thing just wasn't working for me. Very frankly, I didn't like writing it and had no inspiration to do so.

Hopefully, however, with this silly hiatus ending in SIX DAYS (finally), I'll get back into my groove with some episode tags and the like.

Now, onward to the actual story!

Discoveries and Destinations

Lisbon woke suddenly in the middle of the night, long-honed instincts immediately searching out the source of her disruption. In half a second, her eyes landed on the illuminated cellphone, the default ringtone blaring as the thing nearly vibrated off the nightstand.

Cursing softly, she pushed the tangled sheets aside and snatched the device up, not even bothering to look at the caller ID. At three in the morning, it had to be work.

"Agent Lisbon," she said, voice scratchy. She ran a hand through her hair, making a vague attempt at smoothing her messy locks.

"We have a bit of a developing situation," Abbott told her, not bothering with greetings. "Get yourself here as soon as you can."

She felt her expression slip into a grimace. "Yes, sir," she said anyway.

"Oh, and see if you can get ahold of Jane. He's not answering his phone." There was clear note of annoyance in his tone. Jane was good at causing that, especially when people needed to get in touch with him.

"Yes, sir," she repeated, blinking rapidly in an effort to wake faster.

Abbott hung up then, without saying goodbye. Then again, she figured she could probably forgive him for his brusqueness. If she was being woken after just a couple hours of sleep, Abbott had more than likely not slept at all. Sometimes, being the boss was just an added burden; she knew that all too well.

With a sigh, she tossed the phone down and scrubbed her hands down her face. Crime never slept. Nor, apparently, did she.

Looking to her right, she tugged on the blankets, encountering a not insignificant amount of resistance.

She couldn't help her smile. "Duty calls," she told the body in the bed next to her.

A muffled groan was her response.

"And answer your damn phone," she continued. "All you're doing is making Abbott angrier."

"Meh," Jane muttered, finally opening his eyes a crack in the darkness. "Abbott's stressed. Yelling at me is a good way for him to channel his frustration."

She raised an eyebrow. "Oh, so you're just being thoughtful?"

Jane chuckled, reaching for her hands and pulling her down into the warm circle of his arms.

"Um, hey, work?" she protested, even as he nuzzled into her neck. "Developing situation, probably involving our nation's security?" Still, she tilted her head to the side, giving him better access, her hands resting atop his.

"Heard it all before," he murmured, lips just a breath from her ear.

She shivered, and decidedly not from the cold. But it was definitely not the right time for this. Even if she really, really wanted it to be.

Regretfully, she rolled away, taking a sheet with her as she rose. Jane flopped back down to the mattress, folding his bare arms behind his head.

She needed a shower. She smelled like Jane. A dead giveaway if there ever was one. She flipped the lights on in the master bathroom, not bothering to close the adjoining door to the bedroom, smiling to herself as Jane vocally protested the sudden influx of very bright light. Hastily, she pulled her hair up into a messy topknot, telling herself that a fresh coat of hairspray would probably erase the lingering traces of scent his touch had left.

The water was barely hot when she stepped under the spray. She turned, reaching for her body wash, and knocked over a bottle of his shampoo. In typical fashion, Jane had just started taking over her personal space.

Of course, that was about par for the course as far as Jane was concerned.

In this case, she had to admit that she didn't mind in the slightest.

He was waiting for her when she pulled the shower curtain back, chivalrously handing her a towel, just barely dressed.

His smirk was sensual. "And here I was hoping that you'd let me join you."

She rolled her eyes. "Right. We all know how that ends - with neither of us getting actually clean."

He shrugged. "So sue me. I always have good intentions when I start out. I just get...distracted."

She wrapped the towel around her, goosebumps rising on her bare arms. "No kidding? Considering I'm the one you get distracted with."

"Oh, don't pretend you don't like it," he teased, grabbing his toothbrush from its spot on the counter. More space that Jane had taken over. "I started your coffee," he added as she walked back into the bedroom.

Now that was definitely a benefit she'd thoroughly enjoyed since they'd gotten...involved with each other. Jane always made coffee. He justified it by saying it was a time-tested way to keep her in a good mood, and it was even true for the most part.

But it was spoiling her. Three months of spectacular sex and freshly brewed coffee in the morning. He had effectively ruined her for anyone else. Then again, she was sort of hoping that there wasn't going to be anyone else. Ever.

She pushed that aside though, concentrating instead on tossing her pillows back on the bed and straightening the covers. She distributed the pillows evenly, despite the fact that Jane was a shameless bed hog. It didn't really matter, especially since he insisted on sleeping curled next to her at all times, regardless of how close to the edge of the bed she was.

It was endearing, and she'd discovered she loved to feel him relax around her, listen to his heartbeat thrum out its slow, steady rhythm as he slept.

Actually, she'd discovered a lot about Jane in the past few months. It was odd - she had known him for what felt like forever, but there was so much more to learn now.

Jane was a different man than he had been before.

And there was always an element of discovery when two people start sharing more than just conversation.

He liked to sleep on his side, she'd known that, but she hadn't known that he slept on his stomach when he was exhausted or that he still sometimes had nightmares that left him trembling.

He had eggs nearly every morning. That was practically common knowledge. But she figured she was the only person alive who knew that he bought the things in three-dozen cases and insisted on grating his own cheese to put on them.

She was also betting she was the only who knew that he had a thing for open backed dresses. She'd found that out the hard (read: best) way one Friday evening. They'd never even made it to the restaurant, though there was definitely a dining table involved.

He was also a romantic. Most people could have probably guessed that, but she was the only one who knew for sure. He remembered anniversaries, birthdays, holidays, remembered that white roses were her favorite, instinctively knew when she'd had a bad day and just wanted to lay against him while they watched old movies.

As it turned out, he was also still a pain in the ass.

If the mood struck him, he would make all sorts of innuendos at work, where he knew he was expressly forbidden to do so, or send her extremely suggestive text messages from his place on the couch, then smirk as he watched her cheeks redden.

Of course, she'd gotten her revenge a time or two, even if she'd had to double and triple check that he'd deleted the photos out of his messages.

The expression on his face had been so worth it.

As had his enthusiasm, the second he was alone with her that evening.

The couch in the Airstream still creaked alarmingly when sat on.

It wasn't all just sex, either, though that was certainly a wonderful perk.

It was just being with him.

Hearing him say things that she had needed him to tell her for years. That he remembered telling her he loved her, or that she was the reason he'd come back to the US, and that he was sorry it had taken him so long to be ready.

It was Jane leaving his mark on her house, proof that he was here and that he intended to stay. It was coming home to dinner in the oven. It was Jane instinctively reaching for her in the middle of the night.

It was a casual I love you and a quick kiss just before he left for work.

So many little things that she had never known she wanted, but now knew she wasn't willing to live without.

She didn't know if she was technically breaking the rules at work, and she didn't really care, either. Abbott wasn't about to fire Jane, and since she was one of Jane's conditions, she was safe, as much his assumption that she'd jump at the opportunity to work with him still occasionally annoyed her.

It was different now, even if she'd never told him. It was still her life, absolutely, but Jane had a tangible stake in it now. He wasn't just some guy that she was secretly in love with and who was (she hoped) a little in love with her, too.

When he got possessive now (which he occasionally did, usually when someone was attempting to flirt with her), it was less annoying and more...touching. He knew better (she hoped) than to be jealous, but that didn't stop him from messing with those he felt were trying to cross lines.

Of course, in their defense, they didn't know they were crossing lines.

Funny, that seemed to matter very little to Jane.

It was probably bad of her to admit, but she did enjoy those times. It meant that Jane definitely thought of her as his. Cautiously, she began to hope that it meant she could think of him as hers.

She was ready to go before he was, calling her goodbye up the stairs before she pushed the door to the attached garage open. It was better this way - arriving at work at different times. Plus, the later Jane was, the more irritated Abbott would be, and, by Jane's theory, that would give their boss a good opportunity to yell at him and release some pent-up aggression.

Like always, the lights in the FBI building were burning brightly, standing out starkly against the deep Texas night. She had grown to like her new home, and she hoped it would be a long time before she had to leave it. Her relationship with Jane probably added to the sense of well-being she had here, but that was alright by her estimation.

Walking quickly, she found a seat in the conference room and began skimming through the packet of information Abbott had passed her. In another minute, Kim arrived, looking slightly rumpled. Lisbon remembered that she'd been on a fourth date with someone she really liked, and, judging by the state of her hair and her generally annoyed expression, the date had been going very well indeed. Cho, of course, looked no different than he did at any other time.

They waited five minutes. Then ten.

Finally, when she could practically see the veins throbbing in Abbott's temple, Jane sauntered in, and she tried to look as not guilty as possible. It had gotten easier over the past few months, but it could still be dicey, especially if she accidentally started looking at his mouth.

Like she was doing now.

With effort, she cast her eyes down, only half-listening as Abbott berated his consultant. When he was finished, he turned, all business, to the emerging case.

In short, it meant they were taking a trip to Miami.

Three hours later, they were aboard the first plane out of Austin, Jane's leg covertly pressed against hers. It hadn't been so long ago that they had sat on a plane very like this one and she had succinctly informed him that he was difficult and exhausting. At the time, she had truly struggled with whether or not she was willing to pack up and join him here, especially since he hadn't even asked her what she wanted.

But the answer was obvious - she wanted him.

And, apparently, he wanted her, too. He did a good job of proving that, even in moments like these, reaching down to toy with her fingers as he flipped through a battered copy of Watership Down.

They had come a very long way since then. If she was being honest, they had a very long way to go.

But she was looking forward to the journey.