Tea and a friend

She carefully balanced the box with her left hand as she pressed the doorbell twice.

Jane opened the door almost immediately and smiled at the unexpected visitor.

"Hi Lisbon. Come in."

The apartment looked homely enough – infinitely more so than the impersonal motel room where he had been living for the previous nine years.

She ran her eyes over the living room and nodded her approval. Persuading her friend to get a real place where to live – something close enough to a home – hadn't been easy, but it was surely worth the effort.

Now that Red John was nothing more than a fading memory, it was high time for Jane to try and adjust to some sort of normal life again. Helping him to settle down in the apartment he'd just bought was the first step in that direction.

"I have something for you."

His eyes twinkled merrily. "Let me guess. Pots and pans, correct?"

"Well, not exactly. Look at it yourself."

She handed him her gift and sat down on his brand new – and especially comfy – sofa.

Jane placed the box on the small coffee table near at hand and carefully inspected its contents. An affectionate smile showed on his lips as he discovered a beautifully crafted china tea set – each piece conscientiously wrapped in tissue paper.

"How very nice of you, my dear. I really appreciate your gift."

Lisbon shrugged a bit self-consciously. "You're welcome."

"We should try this lovely service right now. What about a tea?"

"You'd better save it for your guests."

"You are my guest, Lisbon. Hold on a sec, I'll just put the kettle on."

As he disappeared into the kitchen she grabbed the opportunity to take a better look at the room.

Two small picture frames resting on a shelf suddenly caught her eye. She stood up and stepped closer, simply unable to restrain herself.

There was a snapshot of her and the team – taken on one of the rare occasions when they dined out together. They were all laughing at something funny Jane had just said, or something of the kind.

The other picture featured a handsome woman in her thirties and a gorgeous little girl – her golden curls exactly like her father's.

Almost without realizing what she was doing Lisbon picked up the frame and reverently watched Jane's long lost family. He still loved them so much – she was sure of that.

The fact that he kept those two photos together was oddly sweet though. Maybe he actually regarded the team as his surrogate family now.

The picture frame nearly fell from her hands as she unexpectedly heard Jane's voice coming from behind her back.

"They would have liked you very much, you know."

Hastily she put the frame back and bit her lower lip. She felt like she'd been caught snooping about his most personal and private belongings, and she had no right to do such a thing.

No right whatsoever – it didn't matter how long they had been friends.

It took a while for his words to fully register with her. Somehow they gave her the courage to turn around and face him.

His eyes were kind when they met hers. He reached for a loose strand of her hair and tucked it behind her ear.

"You and Angela would have made friends so very easily. And Charlotte would have positively loved you, I'm sure of that."

She didn't reply – the lump in her throat preventing her from doing so.

What he'd just said made her feel slightly uncomfortable. Yet she knew it was the closest thing to an open declaration of his affection she was ever going to receive from him.

(The thing he'd said in her office not so many months ago didn't actually count. He surely hadn't really meant that.)

She offered him an awkward smile and retreated to the relative safety of his couch.

The shrill whistle of the kettle prompted Jane to go back to the kitchen. In a minute he was back, carrying the china teapot.

He poured hot tea into the two cups he had carefully arranged on the coffee table – each of them resting on his matching saucer.

His gaze never left Lisbon's hands as she grabbed the sugar bowl and added a spoonful to her cup. Then she stirred it with her teaspoon and lay back, slowly sipping her beverage.

Somehow she looked as if she belonged there – sitting on his couch and drinking the tea he'd just made.

"Teresa?"

There was something unfathomable about the way he was staring at her now. His tea lay forgotten on the coffee table – he hadn't even touched it yet.

She laid her teacup next to his and nervously stared back. She could sense he was about to tell her something that really mattered to him.

"You were right, you know. I really like this apartment. It's no home though – not yet. There's something missing."

"Namely?"

"You."

He leaned forward and the tip of his nose skimmed along hers – giving her plenty of time to draw back if she wanted to.

She didn't though. No matter if her mind was warning her otherwise.

Her eyes fluttered shut when his lips finally found hers.

The tea slowly cooled down inside the white china teacups.