Thanks to everyone who provided such encouraging and constructive feedback to my previous (and first!) story, "Before the Dawn." It was so heartening I've decided to give this writing thing another try.

This story is a little longer, probably a two or three-parter. Thanks for reading!

Lisbon's phone buzzed persistently, vibrating and traveling ever so slightly across the wooden surface of her nightstand. With one smooth movement, she reached over and grabbed it, swiped her finger across the screen and held it to her ear. Cho's cool, clipped voice was on the other end.

"'Morning Lisbon. We've got a body out in Walnut Creek Park, found by a jogger about an hour ago." He paused before launching any further into his briefing, during which time Lisbon leaned over to glance at her alarm clock, read the time, and groaned softly. "APD called us in on this one. Turns out the victim's the wife of a state senator, they're thinking it might be politically motivated."

"Okay. Text me the location. I'll be there as soon as I can," Lisbon replied sleepily. Normally, this would be the point at which Cho would end the conversation by simply hanging up the phone. However, when this didn't happen, Lisbon waited. Clearly, Cho had something else to say.

"Oh, and Abbott's been trying to get ahold of Jane for the last 20 minutes and hasn't gotten an answer on his cell. So if you see him, let him know his ass is grass if he isn't on the scene within the hour." Cho paused then added (unnecessarily), "Abbott's words, not mine."

"Thanks, Cho," Lisbon grinned sheepishly to herself as the two of them hung up simultaneously. She was grateful that her longtime friend and colleague seemed to be employing a "don't ask, don't tell" approach when it came to her and Jane's new relationship status (she wouldn't have expected any differently from him). Of course he knew what was going on. Abbott knew. Hell, half the office probably knew about it. But considering the fact that it was only two weeks ago she was preparing to move across the country to live with another man, keeping things on the down low as much as possible seemed to be the way to go, at least for the time being.

Lisbon rolled over to her side, faced Jane, and lightly tapped him on his bare shoulder. He stirred slightly. "We're up- and you're in trouble," she whispered with mock seriousness in her voice.

"Now, Teresa, I don't see how either of those things could possibly be true seeing as I'm not even awake yet." A small smile crept over his face as he spoke and opened one eye playfully.

"We've got a case, a homicide. Abbott's been trying to reach you, but apparently someone hasn't been answering their phone this morning."

Jane was now wide awake, and despite the early hour he was, as always, eager for a little high-spirited exchange with his favorite verbal sparring partner. "Well, that can hardly be considered my fault. My phone is in the pocket of my jacket, which if I recall correctly, someone practically ripped off my body the second we walked through the front door last night." As he said the words he laid his arm heavily across her body and tucked his hand underneath her, pulling her closer to him.

She didn't bother disputing his accusation and instead allowed herself to be drawn into his embrace. She smiled into his curly mop of hair (which she had recently learned was especially unruly in the mornings). He burrowed his face into the crook of her neck and made himself at home, and she let out a contented sigh. After a few moments, though, she realized that one of them had to be the grown up and make the first move out of bed. "Come on. I'll race you to the shower."

When Jane strode into the FBI office several hours later, there was an undeniable spring in his step. Despite the early wake-up call, he and Lisbon had spent another wonderful (albeit brief) morning together at her house. After a brief stop at his Airstream for a change of shirt (at Lisbon's insistence, for appearance's sake) they arrived at the crime scene where Jane made quick work of determining the basics of what had happened there.

He could immediately discern that the victim and perpetrator knew one another (it was a brutal beating, most likely a crime of passion). While interviewing the husband at the couple's home a few hours later, Jane quickly ascertained that the senator was having an affair. (Old pictures hanging around the house and a recently installed home gym indicated he had recently lost a significant amount of weight; a sure sign of infidelity if ever there was one, Jane thought.) The senator's defensive and fumbling responses to Jane's pointed questions on the subject confirmed his suspicions. Yet the man didn't strike Jane as a murderer. This meant the culprit was mostly likely a jealous lover or jilted ex.

So while Lisbon headed to the capitol building to check the husband's alibi and track down leads, Jane caught a ride back to the office with Cho. When he got off the elevator he immediately bypassed the bullpen and headed straight to the kitchen to prepare a cup of tea. As he boiled water and poured milk into his porcelain cup, he happily contemplated the rest of the day. He'd catch up on some reading while he waited for Lisbon to come back, then the two of them could hit the food trucks on Driskill Street for lunch. They could sit outside and eat tacos or falafel sandwiches, just enjoy the sunshine and each other's company. They might take a stroll along the river before heading back to the office, or maybe if he felt like pressing his luck, he'd try to convince her to play hooky for the rest of the day. (He was extremely doubtful she'd go for it, but hey, it was worth a shot.)

However, any thoughts Jane had of a carefree, leisurely afternoon came to a grinding halt when he rounded the corner and proceeded into the bullpen.

For there, sitting on his worn old leather couch casting a steely look in his direction, was Agent Marcus Pike.