A/N: This story is based on two things. First on spoilers for tonight's episode. I realize this is a risky move since in a few hours all of my theorizing will be proven wrong, but I am hoping that you will indulge me by suspending your disbelief. The next thing it's based on is a review I got from someone, I can't remember who or on what story, that basically said that she enjoyed my story because it was more original than Jane and Lisbon getting locked in a closet and making out because they have nothing better to do. It so cracked me up that I had to write a closet story. Haha! I'd dedicate this story to her if only I remembered who she was. This is a multichapter, but will probably only have three chapters in it. Thanks for reading!

Lisbon wouldn't have doubted me, Jane thought as he grabbed two beers from the bartender. He'd actually become quite fond of Fischer over the last few months, but the moment she'd snarikly told him "good luck with that," and walked off, he couldn't help but to sulk a little. Lisbon might have rolled her eyes, but she never would've doubted him, and he'd had a long day. Being indicted for murder was never fun. He knew from experience.

Thankfully Abbott had been able to pull some strings, convince them he wasn't a flight risk and that he was needed to solve the current case they were working on. He'd been grateful, but it'd still taken several hours and by the time he'd gotten back to the office Lisbon was gone for the evening and he was being recruited to go with Fischer to the club were their suspect was.

The entire thing was disheartening. He'd finally gotten up the courage to tell Lisbon that he hoped she stayed, and had intended on telling her a whole lot more, when he'd been arrested. So here he stood, in a night club, feeling sad and lonely, five beers in, plan working like a charm with the blonde pawn at his side and Fischer standing in the corner worrying.

He handed one to the blond, Veronica was her name, and caught a glimpse of Fischer on her phone over the woman's shoulder. Jane grabbed Veronica's hand and led her to the dance floor. He pulled her into his arms and tilted his head back to take a nice long chug of beer. He closed his eyes and swayed back and forth, pretending it was an entirely different woman in his arms. A woman who was, most assuredly at this moment, in the arms of Marcus Pike. He didn't particularly care that he was starting to feel dizzy and a little nauseous, his plan was working and the beer was successfully numbing him to his own feelings.

Lisbon flashed her badge at the front door of the club and was immediately let through. A half an hour ago she'd been irritated when Fischer had called her and told her that Jane was out of control and despite his insisting that his plan was working perfectly, she wasn't sure it was and at this point didn't know what to do.

Lisbon had told her that Jane's plans often seemed pointless until they were brought to fruition and told her to just give it some more time, she was sure things would work out soon enough. Then Kim had to go and tell her that Jane had already downed half a dozen beers. That had shaken Lisbon to her core.

She'd seen Jane enjoy a glass of wine or champagne, and on very rare occasion a beer, but six beers in the matter of an hour? That was not normal. She worried that Jane was taking his indictment more seriously than he had the first time he'd been tried for Red John's "murder." That perhaps he'd decided to just give up. It made her gut clench.

She'd left work early after Jane had been arrested, and had gone home to think. Marcus had called her several times, but she was antsy and frustrated and just not in the mood to be around anyone.

As much as she cared about Pike, he could never understand how she was feeling, he could never understand the horror that had been Red John in her life and Jane's and the lives of her old CBI team. Pike was a good man, but he wasn't unlike she'd been with Jane at the beginning. She knew that he would think, just as she had, that if he were willing to do the crime than he would have to be willing to face the consequences of his actions as well. Oh, how she had changed over the years.

Now the idea of Jane facing any consequences for that monster was an idea that was completely unbearable to her. Which is why she'd gone home after she heard Abbott had gotten Jane out. She couldn't face him right now, couldn't face his confession that he didn't want her to leave amidst the possibility of him spending life in prison, or the worse death row. And she couldn't face Marcus, a man who would never understand what they'd been through. He'd try to understand and would be kind. He'd ask her to tell him, but how did you explain something like that? You didn't, that's how.

She pushed through a crowd of people in line for the bathrooms and jolted to a stop when Jane's voice came over the speakers loud and clear.

"I'm being indicted for murder and was hoping to go out with a bang," he said. She sped up and rounded the corner in time to see Jane point at a very angry looking man in a grey suit. "That man is a drug dealer and a killer."

She stopped dead in her tracks, jaw dropped as Jane stumbled a little to the side and lifted a beer to his lips, taking a swig. This was apparently all the distraction the other man needed to jump on stage and throw a punch at Jane. Lisbon reached for her gun, berating herself when she realized it wasn't on her hip. She'd left it at home. She wasn't technically working and hadn't thought to bring it.

The crowd gasped as Jane hit the floor, his beer flying out of his hand. Lisbon pushed through the crowd, but Kim beat her there and was holding a gun on the man.

Jane sat up and squinted through a red eye. "Did you see that?" he said, sounding more pleased than Lisbon believed he had right too.

"We saw it," Fischer said throwing her handcuffs to Lisbon. Lisbon handcuffed the man as two other agents came up and collected him.

"Teresa," Jane said sounding a little wistful when he saw her there. "You're here?"

He sounded drunk, Lisbon thought. She shot him a glare, angry at him that he still seemed to think it was okay to get punched in order to have cause to arrest someone and angry with herself for not thinking to warn Fischer.

She looked at Fischer then glanced at the angry man as he was being led out of the club, "You got him?"

Fischer nodded and then glanced down at Jane. "You got him?"

Lisbon sighed. "Yeah. Go ahead."

Fischer headed out as Lisbon helped Jane to his feet and swung his arm over her shoulders.

"I thought you were out with Puke…Pike tonight," Jane said. Lisbon thought he sounded a little resentful, but it was probably just the alcohol bringing out his jerky side.

"I cancelled," she said as she started leading him through the crowd and toward the bar, a little surprised at how quickly people seemed to forget the scene that had just taken place and get back to their partying. A few people were still glancing in their direction, but not many. "I needed time to think."

"To think about what?" he asked, and she could've sworn that he sniffed her hair.

She ignored his question and helped him sit down on a bar stool. Then got ice in a paper towel from the bartender, and placed it gently on his eye. "Why do you do this to yourself, Jane?"

He reached up to where her hand was holding the ice and placed his hand above hers. "You are so beautiful," he told her, leaning forward.

She felt herself flush and tried to pull away from him, tried to. "Stop it. You're drunk. How many drinks have you had?"

He leaned back and made eye contact. "Not enough apparently, because I'm still conscious." He chuckled. "I know I'm conscious because if I was unconscious and this were a dream, we'd be making out right now."

She rolled her eyes, made him take the ice bag from her and then placed her hands on her hips. He was clearly out of it. She just hopped he wouldn't remember this later because she was sure he'd be humiliated. "Uh huh. Maybe I should get you some water."

She turned to face the bar again, when she suddenly felt Jane's hands on her hips, felt him pull her to him, bring her between his thighs, right before he crashed his lips to hers. Her eyes bulged and her hands went to his shoulders, pushing him back.

"Jane," she managed to squeak out against his lips. His grip tightened on her back and she was surprised at how strong he was. She leaned her head away from his and not even an inch from his lips and turned her head. "What are you…" but before she could finish her sentence, his lips were against her throat and he started trailing light kisses across her jaw line and toward her lips. She pushed at his shoulders for a moment longer, until she felt her resistance quickly waning, felt her knees starting to buckle, then his lips were on hers again and she found herself kissing him back with equal fervor.

He tasted like dark bitter beer and at the same time just like how she would've imagined he would taste, if she had ever imagined him, which she hadn't. Her hands slid up his shoulders and into his silky smooth hair and he moaned against her mouth. Her head was spinning. This wasn't right, she shouldn't be doing this, shouldn't be kissing Jane. She had a boyfriend, one with whom she was seriously considering moving to D.C. with.

He bit at her bottom lip and she sucked in a deep breath. Then again, before Jane had been dragged off by Agents earlier today, he had told her he wanted her to stay and if she were being totally honest with herself she'd been seriously considering that as well.

His lips were soft, but demanding against hers and she was shocked at how masterful he was at kissing, even three sheets to the wind. His hands slid soothingly up her back and she unwittingly wondered what it'd be like to kiss him when he wasn't drunk.

And that thought was enough to bring her back to her senses. She leaned away and he tried to follow her, but this time he wasn't being as rough as he had been when he'd started the kiss.

"Jane, stop," she said in her most stern voice.

His eyes opened and despite the fact that they were slightly hooded, she could have sworn that she was now looking into the eyes of a completely sober Jane.

He leaned his forehead against hers. "Don't leave me, Teresa," he said under his breath. "Please. Kiss me again."

She felt her breath hitch in her throat and despite the resolve she thought she'd reclaimed, she found herself leaning toward him. So, it surprised her when he suddenly pushed her away from him. She felt a painful sensation in her gut as she lost the warmth of his thighs on her sides, his chest against hers and wondered if this was what it felt like to be rejected by him. Those thoughts immediately flew out the window however, when he shoved her to the right before turning to the left and throwing up all over the floor.

She jumped back, amidst screams from nearby patrons and watched dumbfounded as he finished up and grabbed a paper towel to wipe his mouth. He looked over at her, eyes glazed over, and absolutely drunk, with a lopsided grin on his face. "That was no kisses on your refection," he said reaching for her with puckered lips.

It took her a second to straighten out his mangled sentence and when she did she felt herself blush and her jaw tighten. She swatted at his hands. "You just threw up."

His face dropped and turned an unnatural shade of gray. He rested his elbows on his legs and hung his head. He started taking deep breaths and she decided there was no point holding a grudge. No point being offended or hurt, because there was no way he'd remember any of this anyway.

He looked up at her with a frown. "Could you take me to my airstream, please?"

She sighed. Loudly. "Come on," she told him, helping him out of his chair.

"Thank you, you're an angel," he said.

"Don't thank me yet," she told him. "You throw up in my car and I'll dump you at the side of the road."

Three days later, the case was solved and Jane was expecting the results of his own case the next day. Before any of that happened though he needed to talk with Lisbon. He stood on her porch staring at her door, box of donuts in hand and took a deep breath. He was an idiot, but he was an idiot who was going to try and make things right. He reached up, hand shaking and rang her doorbell.

The door to her new home squeaked open a moment later and there she was. She looked tired, frustrated, and beautiful. Every day that she got closer to making a decision as to whether or not she stay or go, she became more and more beautiful to him. The more imminent the possibility of losing her was the more he found himself studying everything he possibly could about her. If he had to spend the rest of his life without her physical presence, he'd at least have very detailed memories of her.

"Jane?" she said stepping out and closing the door a little behind her as she did. "What are you doing here?"

His stomach churned. Pike was obviously there or she would have invited him in. It didn't matter though. It was now or never. He took a deep breath. "I just wanted to bring you this," he said handing her the donuts.

She lifted the lid, then gave him an incredulous look. "Bearclaws?"

He steeled himself. "I just wanted to reiterate my desire that you stay."

He felt a little encouraged when she tried to suppress a smile. Maybe this wouldn't be so hard after all.

He continued. "I know that I haven't told you as often as you deserve to hear it, but you mean the world to me and I don't want to lose you." He watched as she swallowed a lump in her throat. "I know this is the worst possible time to be doing this to you, what with my trial tomorrow and Pike…" he nodded at the house and she blushed again. "But I would be remiss if I didn't tell you how much you mean to me."

She flipped her hair over her shoulder. "And you thought you could accomplish that with donuts?"

He smiled and took a step toward her, almost subconsciously. "I hoped it'd help. Figured it couldn't hurt."

She stood tall and stuck her chin out, daring him. "I need more than donuts Jane."

He moved again. "You have given my life meaning and hope. Pulled me from a fate worse than death. Saved me figuratively," he furrowed his brow and amended with, "and literally. You have given up so much for me already. I know asking you to stay isn't fair, but I can't imagine my life without you."

This time she moved closer to him. He realized belatedly that it would be so easy to lean down and kiss her.

"Really?" she asked in a husky voice that Jane couldn't decide was frustrated or sad.

He remembered that part of the reason he'd come here in the first place was to apologize. He needed to clear the air. To let her know that he could be good for her too.

"Yes. And I know I need to apologize for what happened in the club. I don't know what I was thinking…."

He stopped abruptly when she suddenly appeared as though she'd been slapped across the face. She stepped back. "You remember what happened in the club?"

"Yes, and I am so sorry. I was out of line," he told her.

Her expression hardened and she stepped back again. "You're sorry?" she snapped.

He felt his brow furrow. "Well…yes. I shouldn't have…"

She put her hand up. "Stop. I don't want to hear it Jane. I'm sick and tired of this," she signaled between the two of them, "this weird, indefinable, awkward and painful mess that is the very definition of our relationship. I can't live like this anymore." She handed the donuts back and he suddenly felt more nauseous than he had that night at the club. Then she spoke as though she were only just realizing something for the first time. "I really hope things work out for you tomorrow, but we can't go on like this. I can't keep putting my life on hold, for you. I need something clear and easy, I need to know exactly where I stand."

He felt as though his heart had been ripped from his chest. "Teresa, you can't actually mean that we're…."

She turned to the door, opening her screen then looked back, using the screen, subconsciously as a shield. "I'll see you in court tomorrow, Jane. You'd better get some sleep."

"Teresa, please. Just hear me out…" he all but begged.

She shook her head. "Goodnight Jane," she said, then stepped into her house and shut the door.

He stood there, more perplexed than he'd ever been. He didn't understand what he'd said that was wrong. He was sure that for a moment there she would have let him kiss her, then suddenly she was telling him that she didn't want anything to do with him again. His body trembled and he let out an small and unexpected sob that he hadn't known was trying to escape. He rested his hand on her door and took several deep breaths.

She hadn't decided to leave yet, and if she did decide to leave he still had time. Tomorrow he'd insist on talking. Insist that she tell him why she'd suddenly gotten so angry with him. Tomorrow he'd tell her he loved her.

A/N: Hope you enjoyed it. I have another multi-chapter going right now called The Fun House if anyone is interested. Reviews are the best!

Oh and by the way, I hope no one was irritated by the Puke/Pike comment. I had to throw it in because I frequently misspell his name on my phone on twitter and I noticed others do as well, and some do it intentionally...ahem, you know who you are. Anyway, it just struck me as funny.