AN: I absolutely don't have time to write a multichapter right now…which is why I'm writing a multichapter right now. Hooray for good choices!

Learning to Breathe

The first night she spent in Patrick Jane's arms didn't go like she'd imagined it.

And she'd imagined it many, many times.

It had been an exhausting day. Two days, maybe. Things were starting to get fuzzy in her mind, and there were going to be many more hours before she could sleep to come.

Abbott got Jane out of custody ten minutes or so after he'd surprised the life out of her with his kiss. She'd hoped for another I love you. Instead, she'd gotten to feel the brush of his lips, the warmth of his fingers under her chin. It was…sweet. Tender, threaded with promise and affection.

After he'd pulled back, he'd rested his forehead against hers for a moment, his hand against her jaw.

"I love you," he'd breathed, eyes dark and intense.

She had been glad she was sitting. "I love you too," she'd whispered back, and she would never forget how his expression had stopped her heart.

They were on a plane within an hour, Abbott pulling whatever strings he needed to. He certainly was an efficient boss; she appreciated it especially now. When she'd told him she was staying in Austin, he had smiled mysteriously and given Jane a knowing look.

"As you know, all transfer requests were put on hold until the conclusion of this case anyway," he said, and there was a world of unspoken things in that sentence. "All I have to do is, well, nothing."

Jane found her hand almost as soon as they were seated, long fingers wrapping around hers. The temperature in the cabin was cool, and she leaned against him, quietly thrilled that she now could do this.

The preflight check seemed to be taking ages, but that could have been because she had never been so desperately impatient to get to her destination. Well, maybe that wasn't quite true. When she'd gotten the call that Jane was coming back to the United States, that she needed to be there to meet him in Austin…that had been a hideously long flight.

This one was shorter, but only just.

When they started to slowly roll down the runway, she sighed. "Finally."

Jane squeezed her fingers. "Anxious to get going?" he murmured. "We're just lucky some idiot didn't sneak on board and disrupt proceedings. I hear the TSA really frowns on that sort of thing."

She laughed softly. God, he had seriously chased down her plane on a runway and bluffed his way aboard to tell her he loved her. It sounded….ridiculous, cliché, and it was. It was also hopelessly romantic and very, well, Jane.

It was a quiet ride, still early in the morning. Once or twice, she had caught Cho turning around to steal a covert look at the two of them. She had smiled helplessly the first time as if to say I don't know how it happened, either. Cho seemed completely nonplussed, and vaguely alarmed.

Fischer had winked at her from the seat beside Cho, and she felt an unexpected wave of affection for the other woman.

About halfway there, Jane had shifted, resting his head against her shoulder, their joined hands on his leg. Instinctively, she leaned in, her cheek pressing into his curls, and she couldn't stop the sigh of contentment from ghosting past her lips.

She thought he was smiling, but she couldn't be sure.

When the flight attendant came around, she ordered coffee. To her surprise, Jane did as well.

"I don't know about you," he said, teasing, "but I'm a little worn out. Besides, I don't trust airline tea."

Still, his nose wrinkled as he sipped, and she grinned at his expression.

"I have no idea how you drink so much of that," he said, eyeing her nearly empty cup with something approaching disgust.

"It's an acquired taste," she replied, tilting her nose in the air. "Sort of like you."

It was his turn to laugh, and he pulled her close with an arm around her shoulders.

She had been in Jane's arms a handful of times before now, a dance or two, a some hugs, a few more significant than the others. But nothing like this – her arm around his waist, ear against his heart, listening to his even breathing.

His lips touched the crown of her head and she felt a thrill of unreality.

Were they…were they going to be in a relationship now? It was the most obvious step, the logical step. She certainly wasn't going to be with anyone else, and Jane…well, that went without saying.

She took a bizarre moment to imagine introducing Jane as her boyfriend. There was nothing natural about that scenario, and she fought back a second of hysteria.

"I adore you," he whispered, and she closed her eyes against the unexpected tears.

Suddenly, the flight didn't seem nearly long enough.

When they touched down in Austin, they had to separate. As Jane was the only eye-witness, he was needed at headquarters to give a proper statement so that the perpetrators could be interrogated with the FBI knowing all the details.

For herself, she needed to unpack. She had hired a moving company to take her belongings to DC. When her transfer had been delayed, she'd put a hold on the moving crew. Fortunately, this meant all of her possessions were still in her house. Unfortunately, everything that wasn't a large piece of furniture was in a box.

Which she now had to deal with.

Jane had kissed her in the elevator before she left the office, deeper than he had before, his tongue sliding against hers, one hand tangled in her hair, the other curled around her hip.

Before she'd known how it happened, her arms had been around his neck, pressing herself in to him.

Jane wasn't prepared for her enthusiasm, and he stumbled a bit. They righted themselves laughing, and she was profoundly grateful that they hadn't lost this.

"I'll call you when I'm done here," he said against her lips. "Can I come over?"

"Yes," she almost whispered, smiling.

She was still smiling as she pulled in her garage, but the grin faded when she walked inside and saw everything that was waiting for her.

Her shoulders start to ache and she hadn't even touched a single box yet.

Prioritize, she reminded herself. She had (hopefully) all the time in the world to complete this process. Just necessities first.

She opened a box labeled 'bathroom' and started throwing things back in cupboards.

Three hours later, her bathroom and kitchen were in relatively acceptable working order, and she was hunting for the box that contained her sheets. She supposed she could always sleep on the couch, but then again, she was a little hopeful that Jane would be with her and…

Another wave of anxiety.

Was she going to sleep with him tonight?

She had been engaged to another man not twenty four hours before. It felt…fast, a little wrong.

But this was Jane. Her Jane, the man she had secretly and not-so-secretly been in love with for the best part of a decade. She had taken bullets for him, killed people for him, lied to superiors, put her job on the line, had her heart broken by him more than once.

And now…what? Now she had him?

Shouldn't she be sleeping with him?

A headache started to form in her temples. Maybe they should take it slow. Maybe she was worrying herself for nothing. This was a big step – maybe Jane wasn't ready for that yet.

Immediately, she was profoundly disappointed, which irritated her even more.

Finally, she found the right box. With shaking fingers, she pulled the sheets on, straightened the pillows.

Her phone buzzed. Done. Finally. I'm going to shower, then I'll be over.

Shower. That sounded like an excellent idea. She was hot, sweaty, and felt vaguely dirty. But where the hell were her towels? And her other clothes?

It took her maybe ten minutes to find what she was looking for. Even though she hurried, Jane was still knocking on the door before she was ready. Slightly flustered, she let him in, involuntarily smiling as she saw his wet hair and freshly shaven face.

"Hey," he said. Was it her imagination or did he look a little unsure?

Apparently, neither one of them knew what to do.

She smiled at the situation.

"Hey yourself," she answered.

There was an awkward pause. Jane looked around. "How's the unpacking going?"

She grasped the safe, non-strange subject gratefully. "It's a pain," she said readily. "But on the other hand, I guess I know where everything goes, so that makes things easier."

"Want some help?" he asked.

"Absolutely," she told him, gesturing him in. "Grab a box and get started."

They worked in companionable harmony for perhaps an hour. She was trying to not get caught up in how unreal it all felt still.

Jane was attempting to hang one of her pictures over the couch, a beach landscape that reminded her of where she'd once been left.

She was sure the reminder didn't get by Jane, but he said nothing, just asked her if she thought it was even. They stood shoulder to shoulder looking up at the wall, trying to decide if the left corner of the picture needed to go up a fraction of an inch or if they'd just been staring at it for too long.

"I'm calling it good," she finally said, shrugging.

"Good," Jane said emphatically. "Can we call it a day? I'm starving. Anything to eat around here?"

"Um, actually," she started. "No." She'd cleaned out her refrigerator a few days ago, and she'd taken all of her non-perishable goods to the food bank.

Jane sighed theatrically. "Fine. I suppose this means I should take you out." He turned towards her, hands on her hips, pulling her closer.

Slowly, she leaned forward, cheek against his shoulder, fingers linked at the small of his back. He smelled wonderful – cologne and Jane and everything she had dreamt about for years.

His lips brushed the corner of her mouth. "What sounds good?"

She supposed you was probably not the answer she should give. Even if it was true.

Dimly, she recognized that this could be their first date. Shouldn't it be special? Fancy?

Then again, did it even matter? The entire point was that she would be with Jane. Which meant the place was meaningless.

"Something easy," she told his shoulder, snuggling in closer. God, she loved being held by him like this. "Something where they don't care that I'm wearing jeans and my hair looks terrible."

"Your hair looks beautiful," he said, already playing the part of Good Boyfriend. "And there's a good Italian place not far away. It's pretty informal."

She turned her head, pressed a kiss against the side of his neck. His hands tightened on her hips. The idea that she might have some sort of effect on him was heady. Experimenting, she moved closer, planted an open-mouth kiss on the base of his throat.

He groaned out a soft exhalation.

"Behave yourself," he admonished. "Or you're not getting dinner."

If she had been a little more sure of what he wanted, what he saw happening with them, she would have pushed it, would have found his lips and wrapped herself around him like a vine.

As it was, she slowly stepped away.

He snagged one of her hands. Kept it the entire way to the restaurant.

It was dusk when they emerged, full from pasta and breadsticks.

And she was happy. So incredibly happy.

Jane had been flirtatious and teasing throughout their meal, and he had smiled nearly the whole time. She didn't think she had ever seen him this light and carefree before, not even when he had first come back to the states.

He drove back to her place, then asked if she wanted him to come in and he sounded…shy, maybe. Was that even possible?

The lights of her house seemed overly bright after the darkness in the car, and she squinted, the exhaustion of the past few days rolling over her.

But if there was ever a night she wanted to prolong, this was it. Their very first night as a couple.

And she was still nervous about what was going to happen next. She absolutely wasn't going to unpack anymore tonight, but she didn't want to give him up.

Fortunately, Jane took control of the situation. "Is the DVD player hooked up?" he asked, nodding towards the television still mounted on the wall. "Want to watch a movie?"

"Sure," she said, relieved. When he smiled at her, she noticed the lines of his face were deeper than they normally seemed to be. She wasn't the only one who was dead on their feet. But he still wanted to be with her – that much was obvious.

Her selection of movies wasn't huge, but she grabbed the longest one she owned, hoping to keep Jane as long as she could.

She flipped the lights off, noting Jane was already sprawled on the couch. Hiding her smile, she settled into the recliner as the opening credits rolled.

"Ahem," came an annoyed voice from behind her.

"Yes?" she asked sweetly.

"What, exactly, do you think you're doing?" he demanded.

"Watching a movie," she replied, far too innocently. She turned to look at him. He had one eyebrow raised dangerously.

"Come here, woman," he said, but his voice was soft, the tone she heard him use rarely, and only ever with her. "Stop teasing."

So she did, snuggling into his embrace, their legs tangled together. She could have cared less about what was happening on the screen. Indeed, she even turned on to her side, facing him, unconcerned with anything except for committing what this felt like to memory.

Her eyelids were almost unbearably heavy and he was so warm and smelled so good and she was just so content…

She woke suddenly, and just as suddenly, was aware that she was being carried.

"Shh," Jane whispered, and she absently noted that the house was totally dark now. "Just relax."

He tucked her in, then made to leave, but she caught at his hands. "Stay," she breathed, and there was a note of desperation that she should have been ashamed of. "I don't want to be without you," she added on, the wondered if it was too much, too fast.

But then he was sliding into bed beside her, jacket tossed on the small chair in the corner of the room.

"I love you," she murmured, settling against his chest.

Swiftly, he tilted her chin up, kissed her warmly enough to make her breathing hitch, then touched his nose to hers. "I love you."

She closed her eyes, curled against him. Remembered through her foggy, sleepy brain to thank God for giving her this.

She would have said a prayer for Jane, too, but she was already asleep.