Fic--To the Beat of Our Noisy Hearts
Title: To the Beat of Our Noisy Hearts
Author: foreverwriting9
Characters/Pairings: Jane/Lisbon
Spoilers: None
Rating: G
Word Count: 2,604
Summary: After everything, they are still Jane and Lisbon, and he’s amazed he thought it would be any different. Jane and Lisbon through the years.
-
That's when she said, 'I don't hate you boy
I just want to save you while there's still something left to save',
That's when I told her, 'I love you girl
But I'm not the answer for the questions that you still have'.
Rise Against, ‘Savior’
She doesn't think, at first, that she will ever do anything for him. Because he is pompous and clever and really very aggravating.
She’s not wrong, but she’s not exactly right either.
"Lisbon, do you want to see a magic trick?"
She frowns at the road in front of her, trying her best not to snap at the new consultant in the passenger seat. "No, Jane, I don't want to see a magic trick." It's a weary sigh, and she's too busy watching traffic to notice the sudden, determined look that flashes across his face.
"Let me just show you this one trick," he says, and when she glances over at him, there's sunlight in his hair and a smile on his lips and he is dazzling.
Lisbon rolls her eyes. "There are other cars on the road, you know."
Jane shrugs easily, smile still intact. “When we get to the crime scene then.”
She doesn’t respond, hoping that if she ignores him for the rest of the drive that maybe he’ll stop trying to do whatever it is he’s trying to do on his own. (She will learn later that this a horrible way to deal with Patrick Jane.) Twenty minutes later when they pull up to the scene, he seems focused on the barely there clouds above them, so Lisbon figures that if she can just slip out-
His fingers slide around her wrist, tugging her away from the car door and holding her in place. “Those are cirrocumulus clouds, Lisbon,” he says softly, gaze still riveted on the sky.
She shakes her head at him. Of all the consultants in all the states and she gets stuck with the crazy one. When he doesn’t say anything else right away, she nudges his arm. “Jane?”
He finally turns to look at her, eyes solemn and understanding. “I’m not going to show you a magic trick,” he says, thumb tapping lightly against her pulse point.
“What?”
He moves closer to her, and Lisbon’s sure he can feel her heartbeat spike in response. “I said-” he pauses, pulling a quarter out of his pocket. “I’m not-” The quarter flicks through his fingers. “Going to show-” His voice is low and sweet, and she can feel herself start to lean in toward him. (She never fully understood the word magnetism until she met him.) “You-” Jane’s fist closes around the coin, and when he opens his fingers with a flourish, the quarter is gone.
Lisbon stares at him, uncomprehending.
His fingers retreat slowly from around her wrist, and he taps her hand with a grin. “A magic trick,” he finishes.
When she glances down, she finds the quarter sitting in her palm. She doesn’t quite know what to say, feels like he’s tricked her somewhere along the way, but the coin is warm in her hand and everything suddenly seems so much less heavy.
"See?” Jane says, reaching for the passenger side door. “Your headache's gone."
She frowns at the back of his head as he slides out of the vehicle. "I don't have a headache." And he most certainly did not help it go away.
He turns to look back at her, shrugging. "Well not anymore you don't," he replies, the corners of his mouth quirking upward in a way that Lisbon finds completely irritating and not at all attractive. Her muttered bite me is drowned out by the slam of the car door as Jane starts toward the crime scene by himself.
She watches him go, fumbling for the door handle only once she realizes that he’s started talking to the local cops in a way that, even from a hundred feet away, seems offensive. Lisbon swears. There’s no way she’ll make it through today with this man, let alone a week.
The first time he almost gets shot, she’s not at all prepared for her reaction.
She tells him to stay in the car.
He laughs and beams at her. "Is that an order?"
She pauses a beat to glare at him before slamming her door shut. "Just stay in the car," she repeats, loud enough for him to hear through the closed window. Jane gives her an exaggerated thumbs up, and she thinks that, really, he is the most infuriating person she's ever met. She shoots him another terrifying frown and then turns on her heel to face the team gathered behind her.
As she’s going over last minute details of what they might be looking for in the suspect’s apartment, Cho peers over her shoulder at the car. “Jane’s not coming?” he asks, once Lisbon’s finished speaking.
“No,” she says firmly. “He most definitely is not.”
He doesn't stay in the car. (And she should have seen this coming.)
The team has been searching their suspect's apartment for exactly three minutes when Rigsby hears a shout. "Uh, Boss?" he calls from one of the bedrooms.
Everyone stops what they're doing, trying to pinpoint where the sound came from. When it happens again, Lisbon swears, the word bouncing off the tiled kitchen floors, and then she is gone. "Keep searching the apartment," she yells over her shoulder as she sprints down the stairs.
She bursts out onto the street only to find their suspect and Jane, a gun pressed between them.
“Hi Lisbon,” Jane says when he sees her, his contrite smile morphing into a grimace when the man behind him digs the gun harder into his back.
Lisbon trains her own gun on the sliver of the man's head she can see just over Jane's. "Mr. Mackovitch," she says steadily, "put the gun down."
"No." He tightens his grip on Jane. "You sons of bitches are in my home and this wasn't supposed to happen. You shouldn't even be here-"
"Woah, woah, woah," Jane splutters. "There seems to be some sort of misunderstanding here-"
"Shut up." It slips out of Lisbon's mouth just as Mr. Mackovitch utters the same statement. At her voice, the man turns his attention back to her, eyes narrowing. "Now I'll just have to kill you all," he murmurs, the gun in his hand moving to press against the side of Jane's skull. "Are you happy now, Agent? I'm going to blow your precious consultant's brains out."
She has enough time to register the look of indignation that pulls at Jane's mouth, and then she shoots.
The first thing she sees after is Jane's face, aghast. "Lisbon," he says, shaking his head, "I could have talked him down."
She punches him in the shoulder, hard.
"Ow," he whines, rubbing at his arm. "What was that for?"
"You could have been shot, you ungrateful jerk," she bites out, sliding her gun into its holster and then burying her hands in her pockets to hide their shaking.
He notices and smiles widely. "You know, for a moment there it actually seemed like you were concerned for my well being," he says, eyes dark and wonderful and she saved him.
Something tightens painfully in her chest and Lisbon drops her gaze from his. “Dammit, Jane, I told you to stay in the car.”
He slides his hands into his pockets, mimicking her position, and then rocking back onto his heels. "I tried, Lisbon. I really did," he says, sounding more than a little unrepentant.
She frowns, turning her attention to the body at their feet. "Try harder next time," she mutters.
Jane takes a step closer to her, elbow bumping into her back. Already, he's busy committing the distressed look in her eyes to his memory palace. "Will do." He watches her stare at the blood seeping across the pavement and decides that yes, it’s nice to have someone who worries about him.
Lisbon breathes. (He does too.)
She starts praying for him almost as soon as she meets him, but Jane doesn't realize it until many years (and cases and ridiculous schemes) later.
He walks into the break room with a blinding smile.
“You can let Tom Meyers go,” he says casually, grabbing his tea cup from the cabinet and placing it on the counter before turning around to face her again.
Lisbon's hand falls from the cross around her neck. “Oh really?” she replies, voice dripping disbelief.
“Mhmm." He nods, reaching blindly behind himself for a tea bag. “He didn’t do it. Too nervous. Momma’s boy. And I’m pretty sure he has a peanut allergy.”
She rolls her eyes over the edge of her mug as she takes a last sip of coffee. “Oh you’re only pretty sure?” she asks, standing up and moving toward the sink, empty cup dangling from her fingers.
Jane takes a sidestep closer to her as she begins rinsing and shrugs. “It’s not an exact science.”
“You know what I think it is?” she asks. “I think you’re slipping in your old age.” The laughter tugging at her mouth makes a warmth spill into his chest; he thinks sometimes that she forgets how pretty she is.
“You wound me, Lisbon,” he says, pressing a hand over his heart theatrically.
“You’ll get over it.”
He grins, fast and charming and not the least bit insulted. “Probably," he agrees, holding her gaze for longer than necessary. (As often as she forgets to think about her looks he does much the same thing.)
She ducks her head, turning back to the sink and washing her mug with an intensity the task doesn't really require. Jane finds the blush creeping up the back of her neck utterly endearing, and has just settled on a suggestive remark that will make her blush even more when he remembers her fingers wrapped around her cross. Her mouth moving silently. For him.
She was praying for him.
The thought crushes the air out of his lungs.
“I think that’s pretty clean, dear,” he murmurs when he can finally breathe normally again.
“What? Oh.” Lisbon switches off the water with a sheepish smile and begins drying the mug. When she glances over at him she stops what she’s doing. “Jane? Are you all right?”
The edges around his eyes go soft as he observes her. There's something infinitely precious about the idea that she prays for him, and it makes him dizzy and hopeful, makes him want. He nods slowly. “I’m fine.”
She doesn’t look like she believes him, but goes along with it anyway. (One day they will call each other’s bluffs, but not today.) “Okay,” she says softly, reaching up to slide her mug back into the cabinet. As she makes her way out of the break room, she spins back to face him. “Oh, and we’ll be keeping Meyers here until I say so.”
Jane can’t stop the chuckle that tumbles out of his mouth. She can just be so contrary sometimes. “Of course. And Lisbon?”
“Yeah?”
“Thank you,” he says, pressing the words into the stillness of the air around them.
She gives him a small smile, and it’s too much and not enough all at the same time. “You’re welcome, Jane.”
Her hair is curled today, but that doesn’t stop him from hurting her.
“This plan won’t work, Lisbon,” he grinds out from between his teeth, following her into her office and shutting the door quickly behind them.
She doesn’t bother looking at him as she slips into her chair, gaze fixed instead on the file in her hands. “Yes, it will,” she says, jaw tight. (This conversation was doomed from the start.)
He shakes his head at her, choosing to pace in front of her desk rather than sit down.
Lisbon sighs. “I know what I’m doing, Jane.”
“No, you don’t,” he says sharply, and he hates himself right now. “This is Red John, don’t you understand that?”
She bolts out of her chair, palms flat on her desk as she leans forward to yell at him. "Of course I understand that! You honestly think that after all these years I don't understand?"
He stares at her, taken aback for a few seconds before rage overwhelms him again. The words catch in his throat, hot and angry and he can’t lose her. “You could die,” he blurts out.
It’s her turn to stare at him, stunned. “Jane-”
The office door swings open and Cho pokes his head into the room. “Boss, we have a problem.” His voice is steady, but there’s something foreboding in the way he’s carrying himself. Like they all have just been dealt a horrible blow. A shiver chases its way down Jane’s spine.
Lisbon glances at Cho but then turns her attention back to Jane, her brow furrowed. “What is it?”
Jane already knows what's coming next. He can see it in Cho's eyes, can feel it crackling and spinning through the air. He runs a shaking hand through his hair, trying to prepare himself for the next sentence. (All these years and he still hasn’t managed to brace himself for this part.)
"It's Red John."
After everything, after the chase has ended and the smiley face painted over, they are still Jane and Lisbon, and he’s amazed he thought it would be any different.
Her first day back to work he greets her with food from Marie’s.
“Here you are, my dear,” he says, holding the bag of doughnuts out across her desk. “A little welcome back gift.”
Lisbon glances up from her computer, surprised. “Jane? You’re still here.”
He almost laughs, but the ache in his chest stops him short. She still hasn’t learned. “Of course. Where else would I be?” he asks. She shrugs, but the implication is clear: she expected to return from her mandatory vacation only to find him gone, had resigned herself to never seeing him again. Jane winces. How could she think-
Lisbon’s fingers brush against his as she carefully plucks the bag from his grip. “Thank you for this, it’s really sweet,” she says, giving him a small smile.
He nods, suddenly not sure what to do with his hands. Pushing them casually into his pockets, he watches as she picks a glazed doughnut out of the bag. “How was your family?”
“Good. Exhausting. It was nice to see all of them though,” she says, surveying him carefully as she sits back down at her desk and pulls out a file. “How was Sacramento while I was gone?”
Lonely is his first response, but he bites down on it. “Oh, you know,” he replies, waving a hand vaguely, “same old, same old. People died, we investigated.”
She rolls her eyes at him. “And did you behave yourself for Cho? I haven’t heard anything too outrageous from him yet-”
“Of course I behaved myself, Lisbon,” he says with an affronted tone, as if he has only ever been a delight to work with. “Besides, I was too busy waiting to get into any real trouble.”
Lisbon frowns. “Waiting for what?”
“Why, your homecoming, of course. I couldn’t waste all my tomfoolery on Cho,” he explains with a grin. “He doesn’t appreciate it nearly as much as you do.”
She laughs, mouth full of doughnut, and it's the most beautiful thing he's seen in a long time. “How lucky for me.”
Jane reaches for the Marie’s bag and dips his hand inside, ignoring the look Lisbon shoots him for pilfering part of her gift. “We have to go get dinner,” he says suddenly. “To celebrate your prodigious return.”
She squints at him thoughtfully, and his heart stutters in response. "All right," she says slowly. “I’m free tonight.”
“Excellent,” he remarks, taking a big bite of doughnut to hide his smile.
This is date number one.