This is loosely based on the preview for next week (season 2, episode 3) that I saw only once and very quickly. It will be multi-chapter Also inspired by a song from Ani Difranco. I like the song so I'm using bits of it to inspire each chapter in this story. Not what I would characterize as a songfic, though. Hope you enjoy this story and the song if you to listen to it:
Triple w dot youtube dot com /watch?v=ohhilKJpgA4
It's just the track version I like plus some clips of a random comic book, but if you're interested that's where you can listen to it. This fic is likely to get emotional/angsty. Not exactly sure where it's going or if it will be Jisbon, but as it is me writing it that is always a possibility. :D Posted immediately after writing so let me know if there are mistakes. Dedicated to Kathi-Ann because I just love her What If story. Promise the other ANs won't be so long after this!
"…gravity is nothing to me, moving at the speed of sound; I'm just going to get my feet wet,
until I drown…"
-Ani Difranco in Swandive
Chapter 1: Wet feet
Teresa Lisbon knew it was stupid. God, did she know. But she just couldn't help it. Patrick Jane was getting closer to an addiction every day. And she hated what addictions did to people. She had seen it in her father.
Which is why she knew what a mistake it would be to allow herself any sort of addiction.
Least of all one that involved Jane. That was just twenty kinds of stupid.
But with every month, every week, every day, every hour that she was around him it got harder and harder to resist. When she was around him, it seemed like time both sped up and disappeared. She felt weightless. Their unique banter and the charge in the air when they were together…well, in a weird way it unbound her from reality. Strange. The one man in the world who could single-handedly remind her of how harsh life was, reality was, and he was the only one who could also make her forget about it.
She wondered if there was some kind of significance in that.
She wouldn't say they were some great unrequited love. In fact, she wasn't sure if love was even a part of it. She didn't know what they were, really. She just knew that they seemed to thrive off of one another. Even before Jane shot Hardy, they always had this sort of connection. A zing.
And she started to hate that she looked forward to it. That she worried about his safety so much. That she—they—relied on him so much. It scared her that because of him, she was starting to hate herself just a little bit, too.
She had worked hard to earn respect—both her coworkers' and her own. And simply because she was drawn to her consultant, she felt that slipping. The Red John case being taken away. The way Bosco looked at her in Minelli's office.
Jane's words about not being able to do the job without him.
God, was he right? Why the hell was she still here if she couldn't even do the damn job?
If she didn't know Jane, had never met him, none of that would have happened. But, even so, she couldn't make herself regret having him in her life.
And that just pissed her off again.
She took a deep breath as she prepared to enter the bullpen, ready to steel herself against his winsome smile. Turning the corner, seeing said smile and mischievous, twinkling eyes directed at her, she mentally shrugged. Would it be so bad just to dip a toe in? Get her feet wet a little bit. It's not like she was diving into this addiction.
It's what happened every time.
It's why she couldn't knock it.
Why she felt so mad at herself every night when she went home.
Why a little voice inside always warned her that dipping her toes in could lead to things that were much worse.
After all, it's not like victims ever planned to drown…