Disclaimer: I don't own The Mentalist; I'm just a fan trying to survive the hiatus.

Author's Note: You might be a tad confused by the non-canon way Jane and Lisbon came together if you haven't read Recalculating, but otherwise you'll be fine. This sprang from an idea I came up with while tweeting one night. I wasn't serious about it at the time, but my muse apparently was. Hopefully this will keep her happy through the long summer days...

Oh, and this gets a little toward the M side in the third section. You can safely skip that if it's not your cup of tea.

Moving Forward

Teresa Lisbon sat at the bar working on her third beer and wishing the game on TV was more absorbing. She needed a distraction, and this blowout wasn't providing it. The beer wasn't doing it either. And the reason she liked this sports bar was that everybody kept to themselves, so there wasn't anybody to distract her with conversation.

Which left her with nothing to do but fume about Jane.

She'd foolishly thought things were going well. The past three months since she'd come back from DC had gone by in a delirious, endorphin-soaked blur, solving cases by day and rolling in the sheets at night, sharing passion and laughter and confidences. Sometimes in an unguarded moment, she'd be struck all over again with the fact that she was the woman Patrick Jane loved, and she'd find herself grinning like a fool. She could hardly believe she had what she'd wanted for so long.

Of course, in all those years of daydreaming about being with Jane, she'd never once thought being his lover would involve watching him ask another woman out right in front of her.

She wasn't an idiot; she'd known immediately it was case-related. Jane was many things, but not a womanizer. And not stupid. But she was damned if she was going to sit quietly while he took her for granted in their personal life, as he so often did at work.

So when he'd assured her he'd be home right after his "date," she'd told him not to bother hurrying. His attempt to explain himself left her unmoved, though she was sure he saw right through her declaration that she intended to find a date of her own for the evening. She hoped his obvious distress at the idea would make enough of an impression to avoid crap like this in the future.

Draining her beer, she motioned for another. She'd take a cab home.

Her attention on her new drink, she ignored the person sliding onto the stool next to her until he spoke. "Shame about the game."

She glanced at him out of reflex, then scowled. "That was fast. Was your date boring?"

Jane grimaced. "Yes, actually. After I got what I needed, I couldn't get out of there fast enough."

"Well, better luck next time."

"There's not going to be a next time," Jane said sharply. "You made it crystal clear you thought I was out of line, and that you're perfectly prepared to punish me in our personal life for my perceived transgressions at work."

"And you've made it crystal clear you don't give a crap what I say at work," she shot back. "And asking for dates is not part of your job!"

"Despite the fact that I've been using that tactic to close cases for years." Jane sounded annoyed, which made her even angrier.

"Fine. Do it all you want. Just don't expect to be sleeping in the same bed with me afterward."

Jane folded his hands in front of him on the bar, leaning forward. "I was under the impression we were going to try to keep our home and work lives separate."

"I meant you couldn't grope me in the office, not that we were checking our whole relationship at the door," she grumbled. "How would you feel if I came on to a guy for a case while you were standing right there?"

"I'd hate it," Jane admitted with a sigh. "And I'm sorry I hurt you. I won't do that again. All right?"

Jane rarely apologized; he even more rarely expressed the intention to alter his behavior. When he did it was always something personal, and so far he'd been pretty good about sticking to his promises to her. She sighed, feeling the impulse to give in and let him off the hook.

"The evening wasn't a total waste," he assured her. "I got a lead out of Tiffani. And we are now perfectly positioned to do a little role playing if you'd like."

She nearly snorted beer out her nose. Jane helpfully patted her on the back until she got herself back under control. When she could breathe again, she muttered, "Role play?"

"Sure." Jane gave her a smile that had lured her into many things against her better judgment, with varying degrees of regret afterward. "You're here seeking revenge on your jerk of a boyfriend, and I'm a sad shadow of a man who's been thrown out by his fed-up lover. We could find consolation in an ill-advised, very dirty little fling."

"I think we've had enough ill-advised activity for one day," Lisbon said firmly.

"Then let me drive you home," Jane offered.

Lisbon drained the rest of her beer. "Fine."

Jane motioned to the bartender and efficiently settled her tab. She thought about arguing she should pay her own bills, but this was all his fault, so he could pay the damages, she decided.

She accepted Jane's arm around her shoulders as they left, and she didn't grumble when he opened the passenger door for her and helped her in, even buckling her seat belt. She was tired, and it felt good to let him take care of her. The attention helped the hurt fade somehow.

"How'd you find me?" she asked as he started her car.

"I gave the cab driver your old address and asked him to take me to the closest serious sports bar," Jane replied. "I know you haven't had time to find a new one."

Lisbon made a mental note that next time she wanted to hide from Jane, it would have to be somewhere far harder to figure out. Not that she'd really been hiding. She just didn't want to be home when he got back from his date. She wanted him to have that instant of sickening, horrified doubt she'd had to suffer when he gave Tiffani Geddes that sly grin and asked for her number.

She was uncomfortably aware that revenge had no place in a loving relationship, but she was so tired of Jane having everything his way. He'd been an idiot and sent her off to DC, hurting not only the two of them, but Marcus, because he thought he knew what was best for her. He'd lured her back when he couldn't stand it anymore, found them a perfect house to rent, and moved them both into it without showing any interest in her opinion. She bet he'd already picked out the ring he was going to give her in some carefully orchestrated proposal worthy of the sappiest romantic movie ever.

What's wrong with me? she thought in frustration. Most women would kill for a man half as in love with them as Jane was with her. She should be happy. She shouldn't let one of Jane's idiotic stunts derail the best relationship she'd ever had.

"Teresa," Jane said quietly, in the soft, low voice he used when he was serious. "I'm just as scared as you are. Please try to remember that."

She nearly scoffed. Since when did Jane admit to fear? "Right. Like you're afraid of me."

"I'm terrified of you," he sighed.

She frowned, looking at him for the first time since they'd gotten in the car. "Why?"

"You knew exactly where to hit me when you decided to lash out," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "There's only one person in the world who could utterly destroy me, and that's you. I'm terrified one day I'll screw up so badly you'll decide to do it."

"Patrick," she sighed. "I was mad, yes. I made a stupid threat. But I'd never actually go out with someone to get back at you. I'm not a cheater."

"No, you're not. But you might decide to end it with me and then you'd be free to see other guys. I can't go through that again, Teresa. Watching you with Pike, leaving me in slow motion, was like...like death from a thousand tiny cuts."

"I'm sorry that hurt you," she said, biting her lip to keep from reminding him that he could have stopped her at any time. "I can't promise never to date again if this...if we don't work out. But as long as you're willing to try to make this work, I'll do the same. Okay?"

"Thank you." Jane reached for one of her hands and squeezed it.

Lisbon folded her free hand over their clasped ones, feeling her heart warm at the smile he gave her. It was easy to forget sometimes that Jane was not nearly as self-assured as he seemed, that behind that breezy air was a badly damaged man who needed her caring to keep the jagged pieces of his heart from cutting into him.

It was possible that he really hadn't thought his ploy would hurt her. She'd been angry because she expected him to know how she'd feel about anything he did, but he wasn't perfect. He might have miscalculated, especially if he expected her to compartmentalize their work and home lives, as she'd told him they should.

"I knew right away you weren't interested in Tiffani personally," she admitted. "But it still hurt to watch. I guess that's something I can't be rational about."

"I wouldn't have done it if I'd known that," he replied. "Or at least, I wouldn't have done it in front of you. I'll be sure not to again."

She had to admit Jane's mock seductions often turned up valuable leads, painful though they were. "If you honestly think that's the best way to proceed, I don't want you to avoid it just because of me. But maybe you could give me a sign so I can pretend my phone's ringing and walk away before you start undressing her with your eyes?"

Jane grimaced. "Fine. Pick a code word. And I wasn't undressing her with my eyes. Given what she was wearing, that would have been superfluous."

Lisbon snorted in agreement. "She wasn't leaving much to the imagination, was she? I kept waiting for her to fall out of her dress."

"She's far too calculating for a wardrobe malfunction," Jane remarked. "I prefer a little mystery, myself. Years of peeking down your blouses make uncovering your breasts exciting every time. I love that you don't parade them around for everyone to see."

She'd noticed that lingerie didn't seem to turn him on like other men she'd been with; he seemed more partial to old T-shirts or jerseys. It had taken her a while to get used to the fact that her no-sex-tonight wardrobe said something completely different to Jane. Maybe if she went to bed nude, he'd figure sex was off the table?

For his birthday, maybe she'd dress up like an old Victorian spinster. She grinned at the thought as they pulled into their driveway.

Jane eased her out of the car and into the house while she stifled her yawns in his shoulder. She was half-asleep by the time she sat down on the bed and let Jane undress her and help her into her softest old T-shirt. Then she drank the glass of water and took the aspirin he brought her before curling up on her pillow.

"Good night, sweetheart," Jane whispered, leaning down to kiss her.

She wound her arms around his neck and pulled him down, wanting his weight on her. "Frisky?" he teased when she let him breathe.

Lisbon wrinkled her nose. "You smell like her. Go shower."

"You'll be asleep by the time I finish," he pointed out.

"So? Wake me up."

Jane chuckled as he got up. "I think I've pushed my luck enough for one day," he said. "See you in the morning, love. I'll give you your favorite wake up call."

Lisbon mumbled something into her pillow in response. She was asleep before he left the room.

mmm

Jane took a long time to fall asleep that night. Lisbon tended to curl in on herself when hurt; she lashed out when threatened. Her reaction to Tiffani had mystified him, because how on earth could she be threatened by a woman she knew he wasn't even a little attracted to?

The answer, he finally realized, was that she wasn't threatened by Tiffani. She was threatened by him, by how much power he had to hurt her. And unfortunately she'd been on the receiving end enough to know how bad that hurt could be.

He'd promised them both he was going to do his best never to hurt her again, but he'd gone and done it nonetheless.

He reached over to stroke her hair, still short after the radical cut she'd had in DC, but starting to grow out again. She was his darling, his love. He'd do anything for her. Not hitting on suspects in front of her was a small price to pay in the grand scheme of things.

This was a setback, though. He wanted to get to a place where she trusted him unreservedly before taking the next step, but this was going to take time to get past. He wondered how much of her reaction was a release of pent-up hurt and anger from other times he'd done the same thing when she didn't feel she had the right to object. From Jennifer Sands to Krystal Markham, it was a long list.

He had a lot to make up to her.

Patience was called for, galling as it was. He wouldn't rush her like Pike had; he didn't want any shell shocked stammering in response to his heartfelt, carefully composed proposal speech. He was just lucky she'd been too tired to banish him to the Airstream, safe in its trailer park awaiting the next road trip. Fond as he was of it, he hated sleeping apart from Lisbon.

She frowned in her sleep, making a cute little half-grunt, half-groan. Jane leaned in and nuzzled her neck, kissing along her jaw until she gave a sigh of contentment. Then he tucked an arm around her, snuggling closely and burying his face in her hair as he let himself relax. He needed to sleep.

He wanted everything to go perfectly tomorrow.

mmm

Jane's plans for a perfect day with Lisbon started out just fine. He woke her with coffee, homemade banana nut muffins, and fresh squeezed orange juice, finished off with strawberries he'd picked up at a farmers market two days ago. Fully caffeinated, with her stomach and sweet tooth satisfied, she lay back with a promising smile as he picked up the tray from the bed.

"Was that an apology?" she asked.

"If you'd like it to be," he replied. "However, if that isn't enough, I have a Plan B that involves multiple orgasms."

Her smile grew, so Jane set the tray on the dresser and returned to the bed to kiss her strawberry-flavored lips. "I'm prepared to grovel to the extent you deem necessary," he assured her, throwing back the covers to reveal her bare legs. Then he wrapped a hand around one slender ankle, sliding it slowly upward, noting how her breathing changed.

Lisbon glanced at the clock, but Jane had taken care to wake her early enough to leave time for lovemaking. So she relaxed and watched him, obviously deciding to enjoy herself.

"I love you," he said, because she never got tired of hearing that. "You're the only one I dream of touching. I love your soft skin and strong muscles. I love looking at you and knowing you let me see everything you normally keep hidden. I love the way you look at me, as if you're afraid this is all a dream and you're hoping desperately you won't wake up if it is. And I know that look because you see it in my eyes every time you let me touch you." He slid his other hand up her other leg, then laid his palms against the creamy skin of her inner thighs and gently pushed them apart. Moving with excruciating slowness, he slipped his fingers inside the damp material at their apex, seeking out the source of the heat and moisture.

By now, Jane was an expert at pleasuring Lisbon, so he had her writhing and bucking in no time. As she sighed, coming down from her orgasm, he reached up under her shirt and petted her stomach, inching the material up.

The second orgasm was the real challenge, he thought, especially in the mornings. He'd long ago disproved her belief that she couldn't come in the morning, but that second one took time they didn't normally have. And she usually needed it a little rough, which he didn't always have energy or inclination for.

But this morning was about her, not him. Though he planned to enjoy himself as well, since this part involved the erection that had escaped his boxers when Lisbon started to moan in excitement.

He tugged her panties off, then pushed her shirt up. She lifted her upper body off the bed so he could pull it all the way off, then sat up and reached for his boxers. When they were lying skin to skin, he rained little kisses on her shoulders, neck, and face, letting her anticipation build again.

"Top or bottom?" he murmured. She usually didn't like doing the work in the mornings, but occasionally she surprised him.

"Bottom," she replied. "And hard."

"I'll do my best," he promised, rolling her to her back.

One of the many, many things he loved about being with Lisbon was that in times like this, he didn't need to worry about finesse. He didn't have to think, plan, or hold anything back. He just had to pound into her as hard and fast as he could manage. And best of all, the harder it was, the less she needed.

This morning, he was spurred by their fight yesterday and her threat to find someone else. He'd show her he was the only one she wanted. He'd make her so sore she could barely sit down.

He worked up a sweat as she gasped and shrieked beneath him, marking him with her fingernails just before she began to convulse violently around him. Exhausted, he let himself shudder to a stop as he shot her full of thick, hot seed, wishing for the time to come when he could hope it was fulfilling its intended purpose. Not until they were married, though. And that wouldn't happen until she trusted him.

"I love you," he panted into her ear, his voice raspy with exertion.

"Oh," she sighed happily, letting her legs slide from his shoulders, "I love you, too."

She kissed the tip of his nose, then chuckled as her alarm went off. "Perfect timing," she said.

"Timing is everything," he agreed, smacking the button to silence it.

"Well, time to go to work, caveman," she said, rolling him toward the edge of the bed.

"Those mammoths won't hunt themselves," he sighed, standing on wobbly legs.

"Neither will Greg Simpkins' killer," Lisbon agreed.

"Not unless we trick her into it," Jane said. "Which, naturally, I have a plan to do."

"Great. I can't wait."

Lisbon sounded like she might actually mean it, he thought. In that case, he'd give her Tiffani wrapped up in a big bow. And handcuffs.

mmm

Jane was fielding questions and objections from Cho and Fischer when Abbott joined them. He ignored the obvious tension and said, "Lisbon. A word in my office, please."

Jane frowned, gaze following the pair as they vanished behind a closed door. What could Abbott want with her? They hadn't been up to anything questionable lately, and even if they had, Abbott usually confronted Jane directly. If he was going to start using Lisbon as leverage, Jane would have to break him of the habit as soon as possible.

It was only a minute before Lisbon emerged, heading straight for the elevator. Jane left Fischer in the middle of her sentence and went to intercept Lisbon, managing to slide into the elevator just as the doors closed. Fortunately they had it to themselves.

"What's wrong?" he asked, worried by the pallor of her face and the stunned look in her watery eyes.

"I need some time," she said, her voice sounding choked.

"Tell me," he insisted, moving closer to her. She shied away from the hand he tried to lay on her shoulder, which he found alarming.

Lisbon drew a deep breath. "Marcus is dead."

Jane blinked. "Pike? What happened?"

Lisbon shook her head, looking down to avoid his gaze. The elevator stopped to admit a handful of people from the organized crime floor, obviously intent on the mid morning trip to the nearest coffee shop, so Jane stepped in front of Lisbon to give her as much privacy as possible. His smile had enough edge to it that the elevator descended the rest of the way to the lobby in silence.

As the coffee hunters departed, Jane turned to find that Lisbon had composed herself. He waited for her to step off, then put a hand at the small of her back as they went through the lobby, hoping the normalcy of the touch would comfort her without overwhelming her.

Safely outside, they made their way to her car, where she finally looked at him. "I'm going home," she said. "Abbott told me I could. You need to go solve the case."

Jane shook his head. "You're in no shape to drive."

"Jane, I'm fine."

"Then where are your keys?"

Lisbon patted her pockets, then grimaced. "In my desk."

"And that's why I'm driving you home. If you want to be alone, I'll leave you there," he promised.

Lisbon opened her mouth, then sighed and went around to the passenger side as Jane pulled out his set of keys.

"He was shot," she said when they were safely in the car. "In his apartment."

The apartment they'd lived in together, he reminded himself. A place she'd once called home, and a man she'd told herself she loved. Even though she'd left both, this had to hurt.

"I'm sorry," he murmured, and he was. He held no animosity toward Pike; he'd been a good man who'd tried to give Lisbon everything he had to offer. If anything, he felt sorry for him, because he knew what it felt like to lose Lisbon.

Lisbon sniffed quietly and turned to look out the window, hunching over a little.

"Hey," Jane said softly. "You don't have to hide your grief from me. I want to help, not make things worse for you."

"I just...it seems...weird. Awkward."

"No, it's not. You've lost someone you cared about. I love you, and I want to be here for you." He remembered vividly how helpless he'd felt after Bosco's death and Minelli's departure, watching her struggle with grief and loss and knowing she had no one to lean on. She wouldn't have allowed herself to turn to him then, even if he could have found the courage to confront his own grief enough to reach out to her in hers.

But things were different now. He would be there for her, probably more than she wanted or needed. He would do anything and everything to help her. He'd call her old boss in DC and find out the funeral arrangements and the status of the investigation. He'd buy their plane tickets and get a nice hotel room. He'd pack for her, make sure she ate, and try to banish any guilt she was still harboring at leaving Pike.

A stifled sob made him turn off the ignition and reach for her. Their seatbelts made it awkward, but she turned to bury her face in his chest as she quietly cried. Jane stroked her hair as he held her, resolving that whatever else happened, she would never be bereft of comfort.

He would be there for her. No questions, no excuses, no pressure. He would be whatever she needed him to be for as long as she needed it. He'd show her she could depend on him when times were tough.

And most importantly, he would show her that she was loved, in good times and in bad.