Well…this has been written since pretty much August (just this chapter though). I am currently working on the third chapter and I do not expect this story to be all that long. It will feature Minelli and Van Pelt unlike "Titanic" did. It's just that Van Pelt doesn't show up until probably the third chapter at the earliest. Please be patient if I go on another "hiatus" after maybe posting the third chapter. I'll have to attempt get as much done before I go back to school on the 3rd of January.

Enjoy

Disclaimer: Not in my Christmas stocking this year, I checked.

Once Lost, Now Found

Chapter One

"Jane! Get up, you have a customer," he didn't really feel like moving from the couch that resided underneath the window. It was soft, plush, and comfortable which made moving very uncomfortable. Of course, Cho, sort of like his business partner, wouldn't take no for an answer when it came to the whole business aspect.

Almost five years ago they had started this little business in a small shop in New York City. At first he had decided he would rather not do anything, the Titanic's sinking still fresh in his mind, but the stoic man had pressed on reminding him that he would most likely die of starvation or of the northeastern winters. Actually, dying from the cold seemed like a reasonable way to go and he was completely aiming for it. But Cho wanted his help with the business, so in many ways Cho saved his life, not that he wanted it saved anyway. To him working as a painter was tedious, but it was enough to barely pay the rent and put some food on the table. Jane did the painting, Cho handled most of the money and usually was the one to set the prices.

Of course Jane didn't remain on painting only. He would stand on street corners performing 'magic tricks' to wow a crowd. Usually small children would gather around him, maybe offer him some random gift or maybe just a little bit of money, but never a lot. Cho too, actually strayed from just money keeping. Sometimes he worked on building roads as the American population continued to grow throughout the twentieth century.

"Jane you up?" his eyes snapped open, searching around the ceiling above him. Sighing softly, he moved into a sitting position and rested one of his hands on his thighs. Slowly he reached up, hand coming to rest over his heart where a golden chain bearing a cross necklace resided. For the past five years he kept it there in remembrance of the second woman he loved and lost.

"Yeah, Cho, I'm up," he ran a hand through his currently unruly curls. Jane never really bothered to fix his hair up, as there was really no point. When he would go back to sleep in a few hours it would go back to being unruly again and he would just have to re-comb through it again. It was almost as boring as painting the portraits of the high-class women dressed in their best attire or the woman holding onto the small wailing newborn child. In some ways, he preferred the children. They were the only ones that would not bat their eyelashes at him and send sultry glances his way as he painted their facial expressions. It tended to get distracting when a woman lay out before him only wrapped in a thin sheet giving him certain looks as he worked. Usually they were married, this was how he had received the black eye he currently had.

"I'm up," he repeated standing up on his feet. He began to pace before the couch, rotating his shoulders to alleviate the pent-up tension in his muscles. Tossing his head from side to side he sighed again, suddenly realizing that he was slightly hungry.

Wait, customer. Damn.

Rolling his eyes, he set out to the front of the store, running a hand across the top of his head to possibly fix a few curls. Of all the things Patrick Jane dreaded in the world was a customer. Nowadays it took a great amount of force for him to do a single portrait of a family's newborn child or couple of newlyweds.

"You look like hell," Jane looked over to Cho, who now stood in the doorway, "Fix yourself up and go out front," Jane barely nodded, moving towards the other side of the room to glance into the slightly cracked mirror.

Well, he could tell that he needed to shave, but that was a benefit of having blond hair. The stubble was easily hidden and would not easily be detected unless the other person were to be standing before him. He raised his hand and began brushing back some of the unruly curls, trying to place them into a better 'place' before he would go out to the store front. He decided that he would fix his hair later, he would need some water to smooth it down. His customers would just have to deal with his more natural morning look.

With that, he turned to slide through the door. His stomach began to rumble, the complete emptiness of it started to become a bit annoying and quite frankly he had not his morning tea yet. Of course, Cho would tell him that he had to wait until after he spoke to the latest customer. This only happened most of the time and by now Jane always knew what his partner would say.

Before entering the main portion of the store, he paused and began re-rolling up the sleeves to his shirt. He knew Cho would get on him about that, so he decided to go ahead and fix it beforehand. Once done, he sighed to himself, "Better now then never," he mumbled, pushing the door open.

Standing in the middle of the shop was Cho – no surprise – and a man that appeared to be in his late fifties to early sixties. Pausing, he watched as both men turned to look at him. Smiling, he raised his hand and moved two of his fingers.

Cho looked over at the man, tapping him on the shoulder and pointing in Jane's direction, "This is Mr. Jane," the older man nodded, "You should talk to him now."

The older man moved forward, extending his hand towards Jane, who took it and gave a firm shake, "Patrick Jane."

"Virgil Minelli."

Jane smiled, recognizing the name, "Charmed," Minelli was far from home, the man had immigrated to California a few years ago. He would be lying if he said it didn't spark his interest at all as to why the man was here. There were probably plenty of painters and artists in California, why would he venture all the way back to New York for just him?

"Likewise," Minelli nodded, rolling his tongue in his mouth, "Mr. Jane, I have a favour to ask of you," Jane nodded firmly, "I would like a painting of my daughter."

Jane nodded again, "All right, I can begin right away."

Minelli smiled, "Good, good," he paused, reaching into his jacket to pull out three pieces of paper, "Now, you, Mr. Cho, and I are heading back to Sacramento tomorrow."

"California?" Jane looked over at Cho, who nodded in response, "You're asking me to go completely across the country just to paint your daughter? Why is she not here?" he knew he was being a bit bitter about the whole thing, but he did not feel up to venturing out of New York. He hasn't left in five whole years.

"She wasn't well when I left, she has come down with some kind of influenza and I grew worried that travel would be hard on her recovery," it was sensible and Jane could see his point, "I can buy you a ticket to come back to New York when the painting is completed."

Jane placed his hands in his pockets and leaned back, "Mr. Minelli, I am sorry, but unless I reach a financial agreement I will have to turn down your offer," he removed one hand from his pocket and brought it over his stomach, "It will take a lot to get me to go out of state."

The older man nodded and then once more reached into his pocket, "How about four hundred dollars? Then another four for the painting?"

Jane's eyes grew larger and he looked over at Cho. Who also looked a bit surprised at the offer. Turning back around to face Minelli, he nodded, "I agree."

Admitidly I have really low expectations for some reason with this sequel, one of those reasons being that I finished the actually "Titanic" back in April…