Author's notes: Two of three. Thanks, pensive1 and lorelai63!
On the Inside, Looking out
Jane charms Van Pelt without really thinking about it, sitting on her paperwork to make sure she's watching. The kind of tricks she likes, the ones that impress her – sleight of hand, cold reading – he performs as naturally as breathing, and with as little thought. So even while he's laughing, obediently repeating the trick, his thoughts are all in the next office.
Lisbon is thinking about him again.
Jane knows what he's like to work with. He emphasizes it, in fact: old-fashioned suits, distracted air, random statements. It's always useful to be underestimated, especially if a criminal might be around. So he plays it up. He's the bumbling consultant. It's just another form of sleight of hand, after all, and Jane's the best there is.
"How does it work?" Van Pelt demands.
Jane glances at his hands to check what trick he's been showing her.
"Magic," he replies simply.
"You memorized the cards again."
"I didn't see your card," he reminds her. "And you shuffled the deck."
"But how..."
"If I tell you," he says solemnly, but Cho speaks up before Jane can continue.
"Magician assassins will kill us all." He repeats the line Jane's used a dozen times to avoid explaining himself. He turns a page in his book, glancing up to catch Jane's eye. "It's the law."
"Spoilsport," Jane says mildly. "And they aren't magician assassins, they're assassins sent by magicians."
"My bad." Cho doesn't bother to look up this time.
Jane grins at Van Pelt, climbing off her desk and heading to his couch. Lisbon is watching as he passes her door; he slows, saluting her and deliberately waiting until she waves him off before continuing.
Cho's watching him when he sits down. Jane holds his gaze until he looks away, ostensibly turning to answer a question from Rigsby. Jane smiles slightly – he knows avoidance when he sees it, being a master himself – and settles himself in more comfortably.
Almost half an hour later he's dozing – only dozing; no matter what they think, he tries not to sleep on company time – when Lisbon steps into the bullpen.
"We have a case," she says, and the others hurry to save and close whatever they're working on. "Jane," she adds more quietly, "doesn't look like we'll need you on this one. You can go home."
She doesn't do that very often. Only on certain cases.
He studies her without moving. Lisbon is far better at hiding her thoughts than she used to be. Better, but not nearly good enough. She doesn't really expect him to stay, but hopes he will anyway. She feels the need to offer. Not Red John, then – she'd given up on trying to keep those cases from him long ago -- which left children.
Jane knows the rules as well as anyone. He doesn't agree with them, but he knows them.
"Nah, I'll come," he says easily.
"You don't have to."
He stands, fussing with his jacket. Doesn't answer.
"Jane..." Lisbon starts.
Jane turns on her.
"It won't be the first dead child I've seen," he says, more loudly than he meant to. He resents their need to protect him, to coddle him in cases that might be even peripherally similar to his own. He doesn't need their pity. He can deal with dead children, he's proved that over and over.
No one tries to protect Lisbon when a mother dies young, after all.
Lisbon's already backing off, hands out to her sides. Cho is watching, eyes dark. Rigsby's shifting from foot to foot, and Van Pelt is clutching her files to her chest. Jane pulls his collar into place, silently cursing. There are only two people who can get under his skin this way, and the other is on his kill-on-sight list.
They're staring at him. Jane forces his features back to neutral, mind racing to find a way out of this. He needs to get Lisbon back on his side, quickly, or she really will make him sit out.
Cho responds to Jane's look by ushering Rigsby, Van Pelt, and finally himself, out of the office. Lisbon watches them go, something like betrayal in her eyes, before squaring her shoulders and turning back to Jane. He's already smiling apologetically, adjusting his body language to read 'sorry'. He doesn't speak, letting his stance do it for him.
And yes, she's relaxing. Success. Jane smiles inwardly, careful to keep up the penitent look on the outside.
He gestures to the file in her hand and offers quietly, "I can help."
"Yes," she says after a moment. "You probably can. But we don't really need you on this one – it's pretty simple."
He pretends insult, hand on heart as though injured.
"You always need me, Lisbon. Haven't you heard? I close like a fiend." He grins, carefully gauging her response. A little too cocky, a little too scared, and the whole thing is ruined.
It takes her a moment to place the reference; he knows he's forgiven when she scoffs, shaking her head.
"You're more like a demon sent to torment me." She starts to reach for her cross, but catches herself. Jane doesn't look down at the flutter of movement, merely notes the Catholic school habit that she still fights to break.
They've never spoken about her religion. Unlike her family life, which they've also never spoken about, Jane knows very little about her religious beliefs. He doesn't want to know. He has no use for religion, not anymore.
He reaches for the file in her hand but Lisbon steps back, tucking it under her arm.
"You can talk to the parents, with Cho." She raises a finger. "And when I say talk, I mean talk. Don't accuse anyone of anything. Don't go off on any tangents. Just listen to what they tell Cho. Got it?"
"Yes ma'am." Jane salutes, holding the door open for her. And because he knows she expects it, he also snatches the file from under her arm as she passes, laughingly avoiding her half-hearted attempts to reclaim it.
Jane's only ever trusted one other person as fully as he trusts Teresa Lisbon. Red John stole that first trust from him. In a way, he'll steal this trust as well.
Jane thinks Cho might help him kill Red John; Rigsby and Van Pelt won't stop him, he's made sure of that. But Lisbon will do anything short of killing him to keep him from becoming a murderer. He understands why, he really does. But she doesn't understand that he doesn't care. If Red John dies, then he doesn't care. Whatever it takes, whatever it costs, to kill that man. Slowly.
At the scene of the crime Jane glances around, then picks out the main suspect without even trying. He talks with the parents, gentle and consoling. Cho will tell Lisbon later that he never touched them, never used any kind of persuasion.
He behaves perfectly on scene, doesn't accuse anyone of anything, lets the parents ramble on, leaves them feeling better that someone was listening to them. He teases Lisbon on the way back, laughs with the others when they return, celebrates another case closed.
Then he goes back to his house. To that face. Alone.