Jane had been staring at the empty bed where Lennon had been pronounced dead a few hours before. The man who could have told him what he most needed to hear was gone. He had been sure Lennon would eventually wake up. He had been sure he would have found a way to be alone with him, to extract information. He had even imagined how it would all happen. In his mind, Jane had seen himself persuading the coward to confess Red John's name and watch him panic as he touched the medical equipment. But it was all too late now. Another opportunity was lost.

He felt his cell phone vibrate and saw it was Lisbon. For the first time in a long time, he ignored it. He didn't want to talk to her, he didn't want to tell her Lennon was dead or that her best buddy Kirkland had been with him when it all happened. He didn't want to tell her he thought she was a fool to trust a guy like Kirkland. Couldn't she see how dangerous and manipulative the man was? The phone rang a second time and, again, he ignored it. Yes, best leave it that way. If he talked to her, he would end up fighting with her and would make things even worse for them.

Jane started walking along the corridor, trying to clear his mind a bit. He passed by Nurse Sheila, who was filling out paperwork and managed a smile. She, at least, called him when Lennon woke up, and unlike Lisbon, this woman had the common sense to think that Kirkland was a creepy guy. He decided he liked the woman. And as he reached the elevator doors, he convinced himself to start sending her other pastries on a regular basis.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x

After driving around town for a couple of hours, he found himself at the CBI parking lot. Most CBI employees had already left the building and he didn't bother to check if Lisbon was in her office. He went straight to his attic instead and, as he reached the door, he was shocked to see the lock had been broken. Panic bubbled up in his chest, as he hastily opened the metal door. To his surprise, the imagined scenario playing in his head turned out to be completely different from reality. No one had touched anything, but Lisbon was there.

As his eyes grew accustomed to the darkness, he realised she couldn't have heard him arrive, because she was incredibly still, lying quietly on the cot. Her left hand covered her eyes and the other rested on her waist. He wondered briefly if she was in any way hurt and took a step closer. Holding his own breath, he sensed hers, the air entering and leaving her lungs at a steady pace. She was asleep. She was all right.

Jane took another step closer and allowed himself to simply look at her. Drink her in. He could rarely do it these days without giving himself away. His eyes roamed her body and he felt delicious warmth rushing through his veins. She was beautiful. Her small, delicate frame looked almost fragile, if he didn't know any better. He had always admired that in her. Her strength, her resilience, despite everything in her past, her willingness to help everyone in need. He hadn't lost count of all the times she'd been there for him, how many times she had saved his life. He could look unappreciative most days, but he hoped she knew this. He never asked her if she did.

Jane noticed she hadn't bothered to remove her jacket, and concluded that she probably hadn't expected to fall asleep. But she had been tired, he knew. And yet, she hadn't gone home. Instead, she had decided to break into his attic and wait as long as it took to confront him. This thought made him uneasy. He didn't think his life could be worse after Red John killed his family, but now he found that being on the verge of falling out with Teresa Lisbon, added to his usual dark thoughts, created a new level of discomfort. He saw her cross resting on her pale skin and wondered, as he had many times before, how it would be like to touch it, to share some of that hope she carried with her. His hand reached out in its own accord, wanting to find out, but his rational brain stopped it before it reached its target. Instead, he touched her sleeve and pulled gently.

"Lisbon...", he whispered. She didn't move, so he pulled her sleeve again, this time a bit more forcefully and cleared his throat to speak a bit louder. "Lisbon, wake up."

"Hmm...", was the only reply he got the first few seconds. She was really cute, especially when she wasn't even trying.

"Hey, you fell asleep.", he forced himself to say as casually as he could, trying to sound unaffected. He waited silently for her to say something.

"I did...", she replied after a few beats, her tone indicating she was fully awake now. Without removing her hand from her eyes, she added,"Sorry about the lock, I'll get you a new one in the morning.".

Jane thought it was decent of her to show some embarrassment for barging in like that, but he found he couldn't be really mad at her because of it. In fact, he felt a mixture of pride and awe for the fact that the woman he loved would resort to this just to reach out to him, and would break through his barriers without asking permission. A rush of renewed affection and gratitude passed through him as he realized this. She was there for him.

"You should be sorry for my puzzle box instead," he replied, a ghost of a smile etched on his face. The sudden memory of her holding a hammer still shocked and amused him in equal measure. She lifted her hand from her eyes and looked at him confused.

"You know, the one you smashed just so you could get your keys?" he continued.

"You made me do it." She answered in a matter of fact tone, the memory clearly getting back to her now, and she began to sit down, her hair slightly dishevelled . She patted the empty space beside her and he took the cue to sit down.

"How else did you expect me to go home?" So it was clear to her, a hammer had been the obvious solution. After almost ten years, the woman was still a mystery to him.

"Well, I always thought you would ask me to open it instead." He said still smirking. And then, feeling braver, he added honestly, "I wanted you to ask me."

He often wondered whether she knew that there were times he just wanted some reassurance that she needed him in some way, that he wasn't just some gigantic nightmare in her life. But then again, throughout the years there was plenty of evidence to the contrary.

Even if he could honestly say that he had tried his best to be supportive when she needed his help to bring down Volker, he had to admit he had been hardly there for her these days. And he hated this, hated that he couldn't even sound apologetic about it or make it up to her, for fear of being sidetracked from his mission. Would she try to dissuade him from catching Red John, if she knew how much he needed her in his life? He was afraid she would and that was why he would never let her know his feelings for her. They were his weakness and he would hide them at all costs.

Silence fell between them. It seemed that Lisbon couldn't think of a proper thing to say after that, so he said the first thing that popped into his mind.

"Lennon is dead.", he told her flatly.

"I know.", she said, looking down at the dusty floor. He was momentarily confused, until she added, "Kirkland called me and told me what happened. He told me you were still at the hospital."

Kirkland. Of course. Jane knew he would call Lisbon, get her to talk to him, make him leave the hospital. And then he imagined the phone call between the two, how Kirkland must had delivered her the news, sounding smooth and collected, professional and concerned about Jane's sanity at a time like this. Lisbon had bought the whole act, he was sure. She was a sucker for that sort of thing. Was this the reason she had forced her way in into his attic? Was Kirkland really trying to get between her and him? A surge of anger, mixed with possessiveness and jealousy were starting to fight their way through him and he had to break the silence.

"Do you trust that guy more than you trust me?" He heard himself ask.

"What?..." She turned her face and searched his eyes, her face in confusion. Did she look a bit hurt?

He repeated the question, this time more determinedly, trying to gauge her micro expressions. To his horror, she actually looked conflicted.

"Jane," She began explaining, but his mind was screaming at the fact that she had hesitated. How could she hesitate?

"You know I'd trust you with my life. But right now, ... right now, I don't know where you stand. You're hiding from us, from me..." He twisted his hands in his lap. He wasn't sure he was prepared to have this conversation. Not now. Why the hell did he even ask?

"I called you today and you didn't even answer me." She continued. She sounded nervous, unsure of herself. "You've been pushing me away, you've been isolating yourself again. And for what? If Kirkland hadn't called..."

"That guy is dangerous, Lisbon. You know this, right?" Before she could reply, he went on, his voice growing louder and more agitated by the second.

"And he's playing you, in case you haven't noticed." At this, she stared at him looking surprised, as if he had just sprouted a second head.

"And I told you before, about hiding things. That's who I am. I keep things for myself," he faltered, not really knowing how to finish the sentence, but then he heard himself say –"It doesn't mean I'm not trustworthy or that I don't...".

He stopped himself this time. What was he going to say? That it didn't mean he didn't love her? That he trusted her more than anyone in his life? That she should do the same for him?

"You don't what?" She backfired, clearly recovered from her initial surprise. She didn't look so hesitant now.

"You expect my complete trust in you, but lately you can't even trust yourself." Her eyes were ablaze, her cheeks flushed. He wondered briefly if she wanted to hit him. She didn't. But like at Orchid's lane, she looked like she was about to lose it. He, however, couldn't keep quiet this time. His rational brain was screaming at him to stop, but he just couldn't.

"What's that supposed to mean? Will you keep questioning my every action from now on?" He asked incredulously. He couldn't believe she was still hung up on the whole Lorelei business. Ever since admitting he had some feelings for the woman, Lisbon started treating him as if he was clinically insane. Granted, he didn't specify the nature of those feelings and that they would not hold a candle compared to how he felt about her, but still...

"Believe it or not, Lisbon, I trust myself. I know I will catch Red John. He is mine and I'll do anything to get him. It's always been that way and not you or anyone else is going to change that."

He let the final words sunk between them and suppressed a shudder. He saw something inside her crack and knew he had gone too far this time. He was already sitting down, but still he found he needed to steady himself, his hands holding the edge of the cot, waiting for her to deliver the final blow. He was sure she would leave him now and he wouldn't be able to get her back. Even if he caught Red John in the end, he knew what he had just said had cost him a happy ending with Lisbon. He just hoped she didn't hate him. But if this was what it took to bring down Red John, if he had to sacrifice her love for him, then so be it. He would always love her from afar and she... maybe this way she would be finally free of him and all this mess. At least, she would be safe.

And then, just as he expected her to turn her back on him and leave him alone for good, Teresa Lisbon did something that came as a complete surprise to him. Instead of walking away, she took a step towards him instead. Tentatively, her right hand reached out for his left one. She stared as it happened, at the way their fingers entwined on their own accord and then looked at him. It was strange that she looked almost calm, despite the slight trembling of her hand, when he himself felt like he was about to explode at any moment.

"Do you want me to ask you?" Her voice was steady and only loud enough so he could hear it. It was as if he had never shouted those awful things to her just seconds before. As if she knew they had been empty words, words that he had always used whenever he pushed her away. And she didn't look hurt or uncertain at all now. She looked determined, fierce, focused, as if she was on a mission. In the next second, he suddenly realized he was the mission.

"What?..." He asked stupidly, hardly believing she would be capable of being so forward about their relationship, specially now, right after he had told Red John was a priority. He knew what she was asking. In fact, he had just told her a few minutes ago that he wanted to be asked... Oh boy, he was in trouble.

"Do you want me to ask you how to get through you, or should I use force instead?" Her tone was resolute and, if he didn't know any better, almost casual. He realized now it wasn't a question of whether he would let her in or not. He could see in her eyes that she was now absolutely convinced that she would break in, like she did with every lock and every puzzle. With or without his permission was the real question in her mind. His heart started beating frantically against his ribcage, just thinking about what she could do to him if she put her mind to it.

"I..." He gulped. He wished his treacherous body would allow him to dodge this sticky mess he was in, but instead he found himself running his thumb along her jaw line, stopping short before reaching her lips. To catch Red John he had to do things that she didn't approve. He was willing to break the law, willing to kill... and to be killed. He was going to hurt her in the end, he knew it.

"Force it is, then." She said quietly, interrupting his train of thought. He barely had time to register her words, when she took the final step towards him. She reached forward and slid one hand into his hair, pausing to see his reaction. He swallowed hard, closing his eyes and tried to remain still. And then, without further warning, she kissed his left cheek, close to his mouth, but not really there.

It was soft and gentle and, in his mind, it was over much too soon. When he opened his eyes, she was looking at him with a wide-eyed expression, as if she was only realizing now his love for her wasn't entirely platonic as she probably thought. Why did she look so surprised, anyway? She could be really clueless sometimes. Then, he saw her licking her lips.

His heart missed a beat. Maybe he was clueless, too.

She was about to say something to him, but he made up his mind and found it was better if he stopped her from talking instead. Before his brilliant brain could fight back this feeble excuse to touch her, his hands reached out her shoulders, his thumbs caressing the locks of hair that he found there. His feet dropped to the ground, as he found he could no longer just sit and wait for her to take him. He pulled her to him. He needed to take her as well.

He brushed his lips over hers, shuddering at their softness. It was the best thing he had done in ten years. He began stroking her cheeks with his thumbs, pulling her deeper into the kiss, unable to hold himself back. But luckily for him, she was kissing him back, her teeth grazing his lip, her breath warm in his mouth. She had been drinking his tea, apparently, and the thought made him want her even more.

As his body explored every inch of her it could reach, his mind, on the other hand, seemed to implode. He couldn't understand why his surroundings were whirling around, or why every single thing she was doing to him was driving away all rational thinking. So much for his brilliant mind.

And then he felt it.

Her hand holding his heart in place. He could almost hear it thundering in his chest, betraying any pretence of coolness he might have had before this. It was all happening too fast.

"Jane..." She started moaning, and he felt control slipping away. This would not do. He could feel she was getting over the edge as well. He knew had to stop this. If he wanted to have any kind of future with her, he couldn't allow things to happen this way, and especially not in a musty old attic with a bunch of pictures of dead people around them. He never knew if that final thought was what brought him back to his senses, but every good instinct deeply embedded in his brain commanded him to stop.

"Teresa..." He managed to say, his voice sounding shaky and hoarse.

"I meant what I said that day... before I shot you."

She blinked and looked at him, her cheeks flushed and her lips slightly swollen from his previous actions. He fought back the urge to start kissing her senseless again and forced himself to continue instead.

"And that's why I need to finish this. I need to end this, so I can..." He paused for a second, trying to battle the fear creeping up on him again. He didn't take his eyes off her when he added, "... so I can be the man you deserve."

"Jane, I can handle... " She began, but he cut her off.

"Yes, you can." He looked more focused now, almost sober. "But you deserve better. Not 30% of anything from anyone. You get that?"

"I..." She looked unsure, almost as if she was still trying to catch up with everything that had happened in the last few minutes.

"I want you to promise me that you will only end up with a guy who gives you at least 100%. No less." It was important that she understood this. She needed to understand how important it was to him that she found happiness with someone who deserved her, no matter what.

"Ok..." It was all she managed to reply, and she started looking down, breaking contact again.

"...and I will promise you that, when this is all over, I'll be here to give you 110% of everything I have." He hoped that this was enough to convey how much he wanted to be the guy she would end up with, realizing too late it sounded rather lame. Even Rigsby could have come up with something smoother.

She looked up at him then, and now he was surprised to see that she had started to smile. Slowly, but surely, Lisbon was smiling at him. It was one of those brilliant smiles that she hardly bestowed on anyone. It seriously threatened all his self-restraint. He gulped.

"No one gives 110%, Jane. That's such a cliché thing to say. Unless you mean poker money or dinosaur jellies, because in that case..." She babbled, her eyes sparkling, mischievous, and suddenly he saw the old Lisbon he knew before he left for Vegas. He couldn't help but smile back at her, watch her flush prettily. And then he kissed her and hugged her, a feeling of hope and warmth enveloping his heart. He was never more certain that he had something good to look forward to, as long as she was by his side.

"You know, you really should try guessing sometimes." He whispered in her ear, still wanting to prolong the hug as long as he could, and keep her wondering about all the wonderful things he had in store for her.

THE END

x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x

A/N: I am enjoying the 5th season, but all this tension between Jane and Lisbon was killing me! There are still two weeks to go before 5x19, so I had to find a way to deal with it. I hope you enjoy reading! This was my first (and likely my last) fic, so forgive any grammar mistakes, as English is not my native language.