AN: I fall to your feet and beg for forgiveness for the unacceptably late posting of this chapter. RL really does get in the way, as does my brain which was not happy with this chapter the first 3 times I wrote it (for real), it's finally at a place where I am happy with it, so its all yours!

Happy reading and feel free to leave a review I heart them and they are motivating.

Chapter 4: The Kings

"You didn't," she said, trying hard to keep her voice down to a normal decibel level. They were in the middle of the FBI bullpen.

"I did," he replied with a wide grin.

"How did you…I don't…this is…wow..."

"I know. I have to admit I impressed even myself with this one."

"Does Abbott know?" The growing excitement was evident in her voice.

He nodded and she took the pair of tickets from his hand, practically reveling in them.

"You got Stanley Cup playoff tickets."

He nodded, a smile cracking his face at her utter joy.

"In Los Angeles. On Saturday."

"Yes, Lisbon."

He watched amused as she inspected the tickets closer. "These are center ice…behind the bench Jane."

"Oh, are they now?"

She was suddenly skeptical, this was Jane. "And Abbott okayed this?"

"Well, sort of," he hemmed. "Technically, we are on call this weekend. But I convinced Abbott to give us enough time off to make a quick trip to LA. Our flight arrives 2 hours before game time and we return on a red-eye."

"And?" she asked, knowing perfectly well this mini-vacation on Abbotts time wasn't going to be free.

"And, we are covering for Harrison next weekend when his team is on call. Something about-"

She cut him off, "Totally worth it."

Then, in the middle of the bull pen for all to see, she hugged him tightly – while nearly squealing with delight.

Next time she was going to shoot first and ask questions later. That was the singular thought going through Lisbon's mind as she ran through some crappy alley chasing a kidnap suspect. Fischer was with the victim, a 9 year old girl, while she and Cho chased the suspect, an entirely too fit for his own good man in his 50s who was starting to outpace her.

Lisbon wasn't sure exactly where Cho was now, he had been right behind her and then his footfalls were gone, she assumed he had veered off into another alleyway to try and cut off the suspect.

Using the last of her reserves, Libson pushed her legs just a little harder and closed the distance just enough. As they crossed a major road the suspect was forced to slow and that gave her all the advantage she needed, Lisbon tackled him.

Right into traffic.

There wasn't time to tense or move or…anything really before the small SUV hit them, the tires screeching as the driver tried to stop. Lisbon was aware of being weightless for a brief moment as they were lifted onto the hood before being dropped back hard to the asphalt, landing on her side, arm out to try and brace the fall. If the black spots that swam across her vision for a second were anything to go by she'd still managed to hit her head on the road as well.

Despite that her focus remained on the man she was chasing and she looked to her right to see him trying to stand and get away.

Oh hell no.

With one hand she tripped him up and he landed beside her again, conveniently on his stomach. Adrenaline pumping, she got up and placed a knee in his lower back while putting on cuffs and angrily reciting his Miranda rights.

By then Cho had appeared and took in the scene - Lisbon kneeling on the suspect in front of a stopped SUV whose driver was getting out with a horrified expression on her face – before moving toward them.

"You ok, Lisbon?"

She started to say she was fine but found that she couldn't – not with the pain radiating from her side and wrist. Instead she fell off the suspect, sitting rather indelicately on the hot asphalt.

"I…I'm not sure. Maybe?"

Quickly Cho got out his phone and called for EMS to their location. Then he called Fischer and explained the situation. In less than a minute local LEOs were on scene, securing the suspect until EMS arrived and taking the SUV drivers statement.

By now she was leaning against the bumper of the car, trying really hard to ignore the increasing pain and discomfort in her side. The driver crying hysterically at the officer wasn't helping her headache any and she looked at Cho who wore his typically stoic expression.

But then for just a moment something crossed his face and he leaned into her. "Want me to call Jane?"

It was the one time in a hundred he hadn't come to the bust – something about cut and dried and he would just be in the way. She suspected he didn't want to be here in the event they didn't find the victim alive.

"Um, not yet. Wait until I get checked by EMS. He'll just…be Jane otherwise."

As he nodded in understanding – Jane had a protective streak about Lisbon a mile wide - ambulance sirens rang in the distance.

She was returning from x- ray in the ER when Jane suddenly burst through the doors, radiating manic energy, his eyes skimming the area until they landed on her in the hallway.

"Lisbon…" he breathed out when he saw her sitting in the wheelchair.

"I'm fine, Jane."

That earned her a pointed look from the nurse. Two fractured ribs, a fractured wrist and a possible concussion were probably not remotely close to fine.

"Why did you wait so long to call me?" he admonished as they returned to her room and helped her get back into the uncomfortable trauma bed.

"I didn't want to worry you. I figured by the time you got here we would know the damage done."

"Lisbon..." he started and then sighed – he couldn't fault her logic, even if he didn't like it.

"If it was worse I would have had Cho call you right away."

"Promise?"

She frowned. "Of course. There wasn't anything you could have done, Jane, not at the scene anyway."

He nodded. "And, ah, what is the damage, by the way?"

Quickly she recited what they had already told her. "Plus a couple scrapes and bruises. Oh…and I think my favorite pair of jeans are toast."

"I think the jeans are the least of your worries," he said and looked her over again and Lisbon could see the fear in his eyes. This was his worst nightmare – now that Red John was gone anyway - losing her on the job; getting a call from Cho or Abbott that she was gone.

"Jane," she said softly and reached out, grabbing his hand. "I'm ok."

"I know…it just," he paused and took a deep breath. "…scares me more now."

She understood what he meant. Now that they were in a relationship, losing one another would be far more devastating than it would have been before. Though, if Lisbon was honest, she wasn't sure that was entirely true, even before they were together, she knew they mean far more to each other than their status of "partners" and "friends" seemed to indicate. Lorelei knew it and Red John certainly did when the killer had snatched Lisbon and called Jane to seemingly taunt him about it. Somewhere in the back of his head Jane had known what Red Johns last move would have been. To hurt her, because Lisbon was the only person he truly cared about to the bottom of his soul.

"I know…"

Just then the trauma doctor walked in holding her chart. "Agent Lisbon," he started and then paused when he noticed Jane perched on the edge of her bed, holding her hand. "I see you have a visitor...shall I continue?"

"Yes, please."

"Your x-rays confirm what we already suspected. Two fractured ribs and a broken wrist. We see no trauma in the brain but I am not eliminating a minor concussion at this point. I want you to take it easy for a couple days, over the counter Motrin or Tylenol for the pain. If the pain gets severe call me back or your physician, see your regular doctor in about two weeks for follow up on the cast we are going to put on that wrist before you leave."

"What about travel?" she asked. They were leaving for LA the next day.

"What kind of travel?"

"Plane, short trip, there and back in 12 hours."

"Where?"

Jane turned to look at her as soon as she posed the initial question. "Lisbon…no way, you aren't going."

She ignored him and answered the doctor. "LA."

The doctor seemed to consider it a minute. "That should be ok. But again, if the pain gets severe call and someone can get you prescription pain meds. If there is a concussion the pressure might make any headache worse."

"Teresa..." Jane again, this time softer.

The doctor glanced between them before exiting quietly.

"Jane…" she repeated back.

"We aren't going."

"Oh, but we are."

Jane stepped toward her and cupped her face gently. "Teresa, you're in pain and this trip won't exactly be…relaxing."

She grinned. "But it'll be fun. I've dealt with worse. We're going."

He didn't bother with a response, they were going.

The plane ride out was fine, a little bumpy but she slept through most of it, which was sorta a shame since Jane had sprung for the far-roomier first class seats for them. Not that he minded, if anything Jane was relieved she was getting rest. The night before Lisbon struggled to sleep at all with the ribs and wrist causing constant pain and achiness. But it seemed the large seat, with a pillow stuff against her side seemed to relieve the pressure and allowed her significant relief.

They had made it to the Staples Center also with ease and Lisbon had practically squealed like a teenager when she realized their seats were right behind the Kings bench, three rows up. While there was nothing like a hockey game and beer, because of the pain meds she had been forced to forgo the alcohol and instead was drinking soda and eating a hot dog while the first period whirled around them on the ice.

Jane was lost…for the first time in a long time he had absolutely no clue what was going on; the terms Lisbon kept throwing out were confusing him more than helping (offsides was a concept he simply could not comprehend, though he got the idea of the penalty box).

But she looked so…happy. Though a Blackhawks fan at heart (and proudly wearing the Toews jersey one of her brothers had sent her), she had somewhat adopted the Kings during her time in California. So she cheered when the Kings scored and groaned when the Rangers did.

"You ok?" he asked during a break in the action, intermission he thought. The grimaces when she stood or cheered had not gone unnoticed by him.

Turning a large smile on him she replied, "Great, this is…awesome. Game five, Jane. If the Kings win, they win the Cup."

"How's your ribs?"

She was about to say fine, but the expression on his face told her lying would be useless. "They hurt, but it's bearable. And thanks to my…accident, we have tomorrow off."

He grinned a little bit. "Not sure that's a plus, but I'll take it. You'll tell me if the pain gets too bad?"

"Yes, I promise."

He looked out on the now bare ice. "How much longer?"

She knew he wasn't asking out of boredom but concern for her sitting in a hard plastic seat for an extended period. "Two more twenty minute periods and another twenty minute intermission between. So…an hour and half, at least. And that's if there's no overtime!"

As he nodded the players returned to the benches, the second period was on.

For the next eighty six minutes Jane watched the crowd, which to him was far more entertaining than the game. When the horn that indicated the end of the game blew he looked up at the scoreboard, somewhat dejected that the score was tied. The fans around him, Lisbon included, were screaming with joy at the prospect of more.

They were headed to overtime.

Lisbon looked over at Jane as the final horn blew; he seemed confused a moment before realizing what was going on.

She leaned over to him again. "You want to go?"

"No, not at all." She gave him the look that told him she didn't believe a word he said – the difference was now he would take the time to reassure her. "Really, I'm getting great entertainment out of the people watching."

"We're at a hockey game."

He shrugged. "You have your amusement. I have mine."

"You are the best; you know that, Patrick Jane?"

"So I've been told."

Green eyes narrowed but she leaned over and kissed him again.

When the second overtime started Jane could see that Lisbon had lost a significant amount of the enthusiasm and energy she had at the beginning of the game. Instead of sitting at the edge of the seat, she had slumped back and was leaning against him slightly. Either the adrenaline or pain meds (or both) had left her.

"Hey, you ok?" he asked for not the first time.

"Tired."

"Then let's go. We can still make our flight. This goes on much longer we will be stuck in LA. Not that I'd mind, but we didn't exactly bring a change of clothes." And he waggled his eyebrows at her.

"Let's give it…10 minutes, if its not over, we are out of here."

"Agreed."

Six minutes later LA scored and as much as Lisbon wanted to stay and watch the celebration, she was done. The ache in her side kept thudding dully and her wrist was swiftly turning from annoying to stabbingly painful – even with the Motrin she had taken two hours ago.

Seven hours later she was tucked into her comfortable bed, another dose of Motrin circulating through her system and Jane perched at the edge of the bed, stroking her hair slowly as she drifted to sleep.

For a brief moment he regretted agreeing to take her, clearly the trip had been physically hard on her. Then again, once Lisbon put her mind to something it was nearly impossible to dissuade her. Besides, she did seem to have a good time and he was beyond pleased to be able to give that to her.

Already having decided he wasn't leaving, Jane looked around and debated his sleeping options – the idea of sliding into bed with her, while rather appealing, seemed wrong somehow without her knowledge. So he could go to the couch, and be an entire floor away, or just lie on the floor next to her.

Well, the floor wouldn't be the worst place he'd ever slept.

As he started to scoot off the bed, her voice stopped him.

"Stay."

"I am," he replied quietly and started to slip off the bed again.

"No," she mumbled sleepily. "In the bed with me."

He opened his mouth to say no, she needed rest but he knew that they both would sleep better together. So he took off his socks and jacket, walked around the bed and slid between the sheets, moving as close to her as he dared.

She made a snuffling noise and shifted to be closer to him, her head nearly under his chin, arms pinned between them.

And that was how he fell asleep, Lisbon curled into him, her body heat lulling him into the most restful night he'd had in nearly a dozen years.

Tbc...

Last chapter coming up next...hopefully faster than this one got out.