DECADENCE
you are the best thing that's ever been mine; (Mine, Taylor Swift)

v.

It has been two years and she is the first one he sees, and his prodigious return can not be any more perfect (except that she is supposed to wait for him).

He has no words for her because this was never supposed to be an option, not after Red John has been arrested and the red smiley painted over and her not waiting for him was never a feasible possibility. She is supposed to wait, it is one of those things that are unchangeable, like fire is warm and ice is cold and Rigsby is hungry and Lisbon will wait for Jane. Her white(red)gold ring is a red smiley and the faceless man is Red John, except Red John is somewhere dark and filthy and unescapable (and here is the difference, listen carefully: she is happy).

Her eyes are huge and green and exotic and she is not his Lisbon, because she would have waited (and screamed and forgiven and laughed and punched and trusted; this is who they are - who they have always been).

There are - two, three, four - five seconds between the moment their gazes meet - he can't breathe - and when he speaks, and it is breaths and years and lifetimes too late because there are no such things as second (and third and fifteenth and hundredth twenty second) chances.

She leaves the ring in her desk when the team heads out for a case and his sole consolation is the origami frog in her pocket, but he never sees it because what he did to her is unforgivable and what she has done is irreversible and she is happy and he is not the one.

They are tired of lying to themselves (but bad habits are hard to break).

ii.

"Mm...trumpet?" He never did like dancing, but she is warm and she smells like cinnamon (and later he will feel guilty but right now he is happier than he ever was with them).

This is part of their undoing: "I won't risk you," he says. (Hush, don't listen; there is no honesty here).

They haven't even begun running when the race finishes, and they are doomed from the very beginning. But he is happy and there is no Red John right now and he will archive this moment and play it over and over because she is here. And there isn't anything in the world he wants more than this.

iii.

"I'm just - I'm bad with directions, always have been." He nods and smiles and shrugs; for all his confidence, there isn't much he can hide from her (anymore). "You know I'm always gonna save you Lisbon, whether you like it or not."

"Most days, that's enough." On most days, knowing that she is alive and secretly adoring her and smouldering glances are enough, but they are alone right now and she is so close. "Also, I -" He never will find out what she meant to say.

(But she never will know that he'd almost decided to kiss her that day.)

vi.

This is what he says to hurt her: "Liar, you do need to be saved. Want to be saved, even." After all this time, after every time he's tried to save her and make her love him just a little more, they are different now. After all this time saving her, he is looking for the knife which will cut her the deepest. (But she could walk away, leave behind strawberries and laughter and then you wouldn't have to say you love me, cause I'd already know and the saddest eyes she's ever seen.)

(Listen carefully now, this is the difference between needing and wanting: I don't need to be saved, Jane.) "Have a nice life, Jane." For all of seven seconds, everything he's never said hangs in front of them, and she is pale and bright and green and beautiful.

And here it is, the moment of his second (third, fifth, hundred twenty second) chance: for seven seconds she could be his, and here are seconds four, five, six -

i.

"Here we are, home sweet home," he grins. It has been a good day; how could it not, when he has been teasing her for being his undercover 'girlfriend' for the entire day? "I know what you're thinking. Of course I'd make a good boyfriend," (he practically sings the words, she rolls her eyes) "Opening car doors for you, walking you to your door. You should give your boyfriend a goodbye hug."

She punches his arm, but hugs him anyway (he is warm and sturdy and smells like home). "See you tomorrow, Jane."

"Now that's just rude, Lisbon." He is so cheerful he is close to having sunflowers sprout out of his head, she thinks, "Shouldn't you give your charming boyfriend at least a kiss? Or maybe invite me inside?" He presses his hips against hers lightly and waggles his eyebrows suggestively.

This is the first time he notices how lonely it feels inside his Citroen (without her).

iv.

This is the moment he realizes he wasn't lying. I'm always going to be there to save you, Lisbon, whether you like it or not. She is tired (but they are weary and broken and shattered beyond repair anyway). This is his idea of a promsie: "You have to be lost before you can be found, Lisbon."

She is broken because on most days this job is enough, but on some days they don't get there in time. Her shiny badge and pretty eyes and the higest solve rate in the CBI aren't enough when there is a family who will never see their child again and don't understand why she didn't get there seven fucking minutes earlier.

(She isn't Superman, but neither is he. He promises her anyway.)

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