#cbipsychic

[agcntlisbon-blog]

All she could do was replay their last conversation over and over in her head, how cruel her words had been-- spoken out of anger and frustration and fear--

      You’re so twisted up in your own dishonesty that you have no idea how to act like a decent human being...              Just leave me alone...

This was a terrible idea, getting on this plane, saying yes to Marcus-- borne from being angry at Patrick, she never should have said yes. It was like she was trying to get back at him for something, but what had he done? Well, other than completely lie to her, trick all of them into thinking a killer was back on the loose. But maybe his intentions were in the right place, as twisted up as everything was now. Teresa knew this was a terrible decision-- all the way to the airport, through checking into the flight, and even as she sat there, staring past the passenger next to her out the window.

She didn’t love Marcus, what was she doing moving to DC and saying yes to his marriage proposal? He was a good man, a decent man, she shouldn’t be doing this to him. Why are you running away from the man that you do love? From the man that you’ve loved for longer than you haven’t? Why are you running away again?

Speak of the devil and he shall appear-- apparently spouting declarations of love. The way his voice cracked and tears slipped from his eyes made her heart ache and soar at the same time-- and yet her lips betrayed how she felt.

      I can’t imagine waking up knowing that I won’t see you-- I love you.             It’s too late, Jane, it’s too late.

But did it have to be? As he was escorted off the plane-- as she watched him go through tear-filled eyes-- all she could think about was the way he’d said those three words and the way it had absolutely knocked the air from her lungs. He loved her-- he loved her and she loved him and she should get off the plane, but instead she was wiping her tears and apologizing to the woman next to her. I’m so embarrassed-- but was she? Patrick Jane had finally admitted that he was in love, and she was embarrassed? Slowly, the carefully constructed walls around her heart were crumbling, but with those three words it was like he’d taken a sledgehammer and knocked the rest all the way over. She couldn’t breathe properly for what felt like an eternity.

It took her another fifteen minutes before she finally gathered herself enough to get off the plane, easily discovering that he was being kept in the TSA holding area. Leave it to Patrick Jane to wait until he had to break onto a plane to tell her he was in love. Through the glass, she could see his ankle resting on a chair, wrapped up and on ice. They’d told her he jumped the fence-- idiot, she thought with an affectionate smile tugging at her lips. Marcus was a good man, but he’d never made her feel the way Jane had. After everything they’d been through, she was sure no one could make her feel the way he did.

      This is another fine pickle you’ve gotten yourself in, huh?

He looked tired-- emotionally worn, probably from his admission and from thinking she’d left him. But how could she have left him, flown away from the man she did love for a man she didn’t? It was almost like he was in a stupor for a few moments, until he stated the obvious-- You didn’t go to DC. And then everything that meant, all the implications and repercussions, played at the corner of his mouth in a hint of a smile, and Teresa felt her heart jump. She didn’t go to DC, she couldn’t, not when her heart wanted the man in front of her. Teresa knew she’d have a hell of a lot of apologizing to do to Charlotte, as well, but she’d do what she could to make it up to her. Right now, though, she had to make extra sure of something--

      Did you mean what you said?             Yes I did-- just to be clear we’re talking about pickles, right?

Leave it to him to try and inject humor into a serious conversation, one she was already struggling to hide her smile through because she knew he’d meant it. Of all the people, Teresa knew what it meant for him to be able to do what he’d done. Admit his feelings for her despite the fear and everything he’d been through since his wife had died. Her heart was in her throat when he continued staring straight at her and swore that he meant every word of what he’d said-- he loved her, and her heart felt about ready to burst from her chest. If this was what love was, she never wanted it with another person as long as she lived.

      Good, because I feel the same way.

For everything they’d been through-- all the shit he’d done (they’d done), the stunts and cons and half truths; for all the solved cases and nearly losing each other, the two years he’d been gone, Teresa loved him with everything in her. And it was scary and wonderful and terrifying and beautiful all wrapped into one package. That over-emotional, almost teary smile he gave her was worth all of it. As for Marcus... part of her was sure he already knew about the two of them. She felt awful for it, of course, but she had thought for a moment that he could have made her happy. And maybe he could have-- but it wouldn’t have held a candle to how happy Patrick made her. He’ll understand, she’d said, but there was still guilt bubbling beneath the surface. She would not let it win this time, however, as she looked across the table at Patrick and smiled.

      Say it again.             Say what again?

Oh, now he was doing his usual toying with her, and all Teresa could do was arch her brows, smile still playing at the corner of her mouth as she held his gaze. No way was she going to give in to that. But the way he looked at her made her knees weak-- even though she was sitting down-- and all but melted her insides, turned her to mush as he stood on his good leg. She didn’t move, only watched as he leaned over the table and put his fingers under her chin, tilting her head just the smallest bit--

The moment he kissed her, nothing else mattered but the feeling of his lips on hers, and the desperate wish that they were somewhere other than a TSA holding area. Still, as far as first kisses went, Teresa had never had one quite this perfect before. Her hand came up to rest on his cheek, wishing for just a moment longer to explore this softness, but they had all the time in the world now. Even when he pulled back, she didn’t let him go far, her nose nudging against his gently before she spoke, her voice soft.

“Let’s get you out of here.”

@cbipsychic

[helosther-blog1]

+ @cbipsychic

          Sarah’s heart JUMPED to her throat at the sound of footsteps. They couldn’t have followed her here. Not so soon. The twelve year old moved double-time, shoving loot into her bag with little discrimination. Whatever she didn’t need or want, she could decide later and toss it. Right now she needed to–

         The doorknob turned sooner than she expected. Sarah jerked for stolen pistol and swung it to the doorway just as it came open.

         “DON’T MOVE.”

[hawkinsninth-a]

@cbipsychic from x

Nine Kelly (she’d get used to it eventually) turned her eyes from where they’d been focused - watching the lady agent talking to her guardian in the next room - toward the man instead. He wasn’t an agent, or at least he didn’t act like it, and he seemed nicer than the others, so she had taken a seat at the end of his couch rather than at the table where her homework had been set out. Homework sucked.

“Steve,” she said, accepting the piece of chocolate with an almost-shy smile. “He’s nice.”

[thisisfatherspeaking]

@cbipsychic || continued

“To lose someone, yes; and to lose them in the way that you have.” He expanded, slipping his hands into his pockets as he stepped closer, offering a softly apologetic smile. A light shrug lifted his shoulder as he turned his gaze to the graves, his expression falling neutral.

“And to seek revenge on the one who caused you pain.”

[bountyman]

bountyman asked:

"Don't even think about it."

@cbipsychic answered:

five word prompts ;;  accepting  ;; @bountyman  

‘  why  does  everyone  ASSUME  that  i’m  thinking  of  some  dastardly  plot  to  get  something  that  i  want  ?  ‘  jane  asked  ,  sitting  down  on  his  sofa   .  ‘  i  was  just  wondering  where  i  want  to  get  my  lunch  today  .  that’s  all  .  ‘

          Josh hadn’t stopped watching Patrick since he was lead into the bullpen. Though Patrick had yet to give him a good reason, there was something about him that Josh simply didn’t trust.

          “Mmhm. Well, I’d ‘preciate it if you thought about your lunch without starin’ at me.” As if to solidify his discomfort, he crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair. “Third time bein’ questioned ‘n’ I’m startin’ to feel a li’l like somebody’s scapegoat. I don’t need to feel like somebody’s rib-eye steak, too.”

[agntwells]

@cbipsychic ;;

        Liza hated when her kids were sick-- she hated even more when she got called into work and didn’t have a backup for them. Thankfully, though, it was just Alex since Matty was at preschool. It’ll just be a few hours, you can sleep on the couch in my office, she’d promised Alex as she pulled into the parking garage at work. Thankfully, she did fall back to sleep on the couch, wrapped up in her pink blanket.

        When the door to her office opened, she frowned before seeing that it was Jane, then pressed a finger to her lips and motioned to the sleeping Alex. “She’s sick, don’t wake her up unless you have a good excuse.” Liza muttered, reaching for her coffee mug and drinking what was left.

[hittcr-a]

@cbipsychic continued from x.

          “touch me again an’ i’ll put your lights out, man. i ain’t big on touchin’. specially not touchin’ from strangers.” at least the guy’d stopped touching and seemed to realize what he’d done had put eliot even more on edge than he had been before. he never liked human lie detectors. maybe because most of the time he felt like a huge, walking, lie. he blinked twice. “you don’t gotta believe me. i ain’t even askin’ for you t’ consider it. but tha’s my story. an’ ‘m stickin’ with it.” a supposed wrong place wrong time. but the bruises on eliot’s knuckled pointed him out to be a perpetrator of the violence as much as he was a victim. 

[forvirtue]

+ @cbipsychic

           “Jane…?” Grace looked as surprised as she sounded as she stepped into the bullpen. She had decided to come early that morning and though she didn’t quite expect to be the first one there, she certainly hadn’t thought that Patrick would be the one to greet her upon arrival. “Did you even go home last night?”