Written with a glass of malbec at my side (and as such, all typos are a little squashed-grape tinged).
Written for the Super Duper Tag Project.
Episode Tag 1x08, The Thin Red Line
Heading down the sidewalk and back to the car, Jane felt lighthearted and content. The feeling was so rare in recent years that he embraced it, dug his fingers in and held on to the happy knowledge that a broken family was on the mend. He was confident the Blakelys were on the path of healing, and little Kaylee would help them channel their emotions into something constructive.
As he had placed the baby in her arms, Katherine Blakely's expression of shock had quickly transformed into one of a happy sort of surprise. She would take on the new role of grandmother with gusto, despite her husband's infidelity. Katherine would not hold such things against a baby. The entire situation was a mess of deceit, and Kaylee at the center. Her grandparents would do their best to shelter her from it. They would make a lovely family. Jane pushed aside the bitter tang of jealousy that threatened to roll through his stomach, choosing to focus on the lovely moment, on the innocent granddaughter who would be adored and cherished.
Holding a wriggling baby in his arms had been a welcomed treat. He'd forgotten what it was like to hold a baby-the solid, comforting weight as she softly squirmed before giving a shuddering sigh. Little Kaylee had even tucked her head against his shoulder as he'd walked up the path, tired from the short drive. She was a delightful baby, much calmer than Charlotte had been at that age. His own daughter had been a bit of a wild one, reaching all of those important developmental milestones a little early.
She had been small but strong in spirit, and Jane always credited his wife for Charlotte's fiery personality. Angela had laughed in that way that always sent a warm shiver through his body, and agreed to take responsibility for Charlotte's tantrums if he took responsibility for her unruly and tangled mess of curls. He'd smiled, kissed his wife's dimpled cheek just as Charlotte rushed by on her red tricycle. It was one of his most cherished memories, one he pulled out on the days he could bear it, on the days he needed to remember.
When he wasn't performing, when it was just his little family in their secluded beach house, Patrick Jane was quiet and introspective. He read, drank tea, and he watched his family blossom. He embraced the quiet time, the time when he could shut out the world of needy women, sweaty gamblers, and sobbing orphans. His family was his solitude from the hectic outside world, from the constant hum that sometimes took up residency in his brain—a side effect of his career path. Angela knew him at his worst, she'd been there through his Boy Wonder act. She'd been there when he decided to take his act to the next level, ranging from consultations to television appearances. She'd known the truth of him, of what horrible and callous things he could do, and still she'd taken him to her bed. She had held him to her breast and loved him.
Jane gripped the steering wheel, his knuckles turning white. She had loved him unconditionally, and how he repaid her? By ignoring her pleas to stop his psychic gambit, to take a break. By taunting a psychopath on television. By getting his family killed.
Acid churned in his stomach and he pulled over to the side of the highway. Resting his forehead against his folded arms, he willed his heart to slow and focused on his own breathing. Counting out his inhales and exhales, he felt his body begin to relax.
Before he could recover too much, the harsh ring tone of his cell phone erupted in the small car. He jumped, his heart rate skyrocketing once more. It was Lisbon. Although he was tempted to let the call go to voicemail and remain parked at the side of the road forever, he knew Lisbon was probably two steps away from requesting Van Pelt hack his phone's GPS. There was no respite for the wicked, not even for Patrick Jane.
He snatched up the phone and flipped it open.
"Hello, dear Lisbon. To what do I owe this lovely phone call?" He forced an air of levity into his tone, glad that he had miles of highway between them. He didn't think he could mask his weariness right now.
"You took a baby." Lisbon's tone was full of scorn and surprise.
"Ah, yes." He didn't see it as problem, but she was such a stickler for rules.
"You can't just take a baby from CPS, Jane."
"But I did, in fact, take a baby from CPS." He allowed Lisbon's anger to distract him from his morose thoughts. Arguing with her was always a welcomed pastime, her feathers were so easy to ruffle. "They made it pretty easy, actually. You might want to look into that."
"Oh, I spoke with a woman by the name of Lauren Cook. She sang your praises, said you were just delightful. I'm not convinced you didn't hypnotize her." He could picture Lisbon, her mouth turned down in a frown, eyes practically rolling out of her head. When he remained quiet, she gasped. "Jane! Tell me you didn't hypnotize a government employee so you could steal a minor?"
"You make it sound so untoward. I can assure you, my intent was only for good."
"Tell that to the lawyers CPS is bound to stick on us."
"Oh, come on, lawyers?" He wrinkled his nose. Slick men in glossy suits tended to only make matters worse. "There's not need. Little Kaylee is with her family. They were going to place her with the Blakelys—or they would, at least, once the Blakelys stopped their sulking and realized what a wonderful opportunity they'd been given. I just gave them a nice swift push. Hard to think sad thoughts with a happy baby in your arms." He should know, holding Kaylee, he'd found a temporary reprieve from his own troubles.
Lisbon sighed, and he sensed her resolve was wearing thin.
"Just come back here, OK? You need to fill out some paperwork CPS sent over to ensure all their ducks were in a row and they didn't let Kaylee off site with a deranged criminal."
"I'm perfectly sane Lisbon." He smiled, feeling a little on the mend.
"Just get back here, already, will you? We're ordering pizza soon." And without another word, she disconnected the call. Tossing his phone to the passenger seat, he grinned. Jane had a big evening ahead of him. After studiously avoiding whatever paperwork Lisbon threatened, he would make a cup of tea, sit on his couch, and watch the team as they enjoyed their closed case pizza. A sense of contentment once again took hold. He embraced it, and tucked away the memories of his past as he focused on merging with the steady flow of traffic.
A/N: It took all my willpower to not make a flat-out The Guardian reference. I settled for a vaguely meta lawyer reference.