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Disclaimer: I am just playing with these wonderful characters, and no copyright infringement is intended. The only thing I get from writing this is a few reviews (hopefully) and some peace of mind.
AN: The title is taken from the great Janis Joplin song, Me and Bobby Magee.
"Freedom's just another word for nothing left to lose…"
Set directly after Grey Water:
3 am
It's Fischer who calls to tell me. Fischer. Not Lisbon. Grace has been kidnapped and even then, she doesn't call me herself.
I drag myself out of my cozy bed in the Airstream and splash some water on my face. I'm still a little woozy from the beers I drank at the bar with Cho and Rigsby – I've only been asleep a little over an hour, after all.
A quick shower is a necessity, but soon I'm on the way in with the knowledge that this is going to be a long day. To tell the truth, the days all seem long lately. Last night with the guys was fun, but only served to contrast with how dull things have become in my "new" life. I try to enjoy the small pleasures, but something is missing, and I know what that something is.
Sometimes I wonder if I should have come back at all.
I get it, I guess. Lisbon felt used and abandoned when I left, leaving her with a career in tatters. Yet she picked things up and made it on her own just fine afterward. She thinks getting close to me again would be too much of a risk for her now, and she wants to establish herself as a "real" FBI agent, not my "sidekick," as she so indelicately put it.
It was never that, Teresa, I want to plead. I suppose the public perception was otherwise. I keep hoping Lisbon will thaw but I haven't seen the first glimmer of hope. It's not like she's mean to me. I'd almost prefer that. Almost.
At least on that island I wouldn't be getting anyone else I care about hurt. I surely don't relish the thought of working boring cases with Kim Fischer and watching more of my friends die for the next five years. Where's the fun in that? I consider with black humor.
I wonder, if I disappeared again, would the FBI can Lisbon? I don't know. Plus, it would simply serve to validate Lisbon's opinion of me. I can't take that chance. No matter what the future holds, I owe her too much – always will.
I nearly turn the Airstream on its side when I see a specialty coffee shop with a 24 hour drive through, but I manage to make the turn upright. Tea for me, and Lisbon's special brew for her.
When I get to the FBI, I see her car in the lot. Inside, she's already at her desk, making calls, glued to her computer monitor. I make a beeline to her desk and sit the hot coffee down beside her, thinking I've done a good deed this time for sure. "Brought you a latte."
"Oh, thanks, Jane, but I don't drink those so much anymore." She lifts an identical cup with her left hand – which had been obstructed from my view. "I stopped on my way in, too. I'm trying to get rid of all that sugar in my coffee."
Maybe that's her problem, I wonder cynically. Hypoglycemia. She hasn't even looked up from her monitor. She scribbles something on a notepad, already reabsorbed in her task. "This has got to be Haiback, that smarmy bastard," she says with conviction.
I admonish myself for being so childish. Grace has been kidnapped. Of course that's what's important now. I stand behind Lisbon and peer at the screen, but I have no idea what she's looking for, and she doesn't bother to enlighten me.
Fischer appears out of nowhere, much to my chagrin. That woman must have a cloaking device, just like a Klingon warship.
"Jane, you come with me." How annoying is that little motion she does with her hands? " Let's go see if we can find anything at the scene. Cho and Rigsby are already there." Lisbon doesn't even look up, and Fischer catches me looking at her. "Lisbon is busy getting Haibach's information."
"Be there in a minute," I reply, and I sit down on my couch and have a sip of tea. If I were feeling charitable, I'd remind myself that Fischer is doing a job she unconsciously dislikes, and is unsuited for. I'm not feeling particularly kind, however, and what I really want to do is tell Fischer to go fuck herself, and let Lisbon and me go check out the scene together. My anger is displaced, I know that, and so I have another drink of tea instead.
This whole thing is unfortunate. Grace and Wayne are just a couple of nice kids with a new family, and if I hadn't involved them in the whole Red John mess they'd no doubt be safe at home in bed right now. I think back at how many people have died simply because they were associated with me. Leelee Barlow. Sophie Miller. Wainwright. Those are just a few of many and I wanted – needed - to leave all that behind. Now there's JJ. Am I just getting started again?
Lisbon looks up for a moment, and I think she might say something. I stare at the back of her head, appreciating what lovely hair she has. She hesitates for a moment and then looks back down at her monitor without speaking.
Maybe I should never have come back. Maybe I was right. It isn't healthy, especially now that people I care about are in danger again. Most of all, I miss spending time with Lisbon. I miss my partner. And I haven't the slightest idea what I can do about it.
"Jane!?" Fischer bellows, heading toward the elevators.
"Coming." I get up, tea in hand, and shuffle off after Fischer. I've got to get to the bottom of this, or there'll be one more on my list of dead friends. Poor Rigsby will be understandably distraught, a feeling I remember all too well.
Lisbon doesn't even say "Bye" as I walk away, and another little part of me dies.
Grace, I remind myself. I've got to find Grace.
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AN: I'm pretty sure I'm not the only on frustrated with the lack of Jane/Lisbon interaction on the show. I'm hoping it's part of an arc to get them together, and writing this is my way of dealing with things until then. Hope you found it worth reading.