Title: Carded
Disclaimer: I don't own anything in here and am making no profit.
Summary: Lisbon receives unexpected—and unwanted—congratulations on bringing down Volker. Despite the title, this has nothing to do with my other fic "In the Cards," I'm just not that creative when it comes to titles.
The afternoon Tommy Volker was indicted, the Serious Crimes bullpen was overrun with people wanting to congratulate Lisbon and her team. Though Jane disappeared early on and Lisbon wished she could do the same, she felt she owed it to her team, who'd worked so hard, to make sure they got the credit—and the celebration—they deserved.
Still, she was relieved when everyone decided to relocate to a nearby bar and she could have a minute to herself, promising to join them shortly. She wanted to savor her triumph, even though it was shadowed by the regret that it wouldn't matter to Amanda Shaw, whom she hadn't been able to protect.
But she had managed to protect Jane, despite his best efforts, she thought. She took a deep breath and let the remembered panic wash out of her in a long sigh. It had been damn close, and she knew it was her fault. She'd never have let him set himself up as bait if she'd been paying more attention, if she'd been less desperate. She'd known things were going to get out of hand the minute she'd asked Jane for help. She just hadn't expected him to get personally invested in beating Volker. Things never went well when Jane took things personally.
"Hey," Jane said, sauntering into the bullpen like he owned it. "Where did everybody go?"
She smiled, mostly because she didn't have to roust him out of that damn attic. "They're all down at Mulligan's. I told them we'd catch up with them in a minute."
"Lisbon," he whined.
"Sorry, Jane. You can't avoid your share of the credit this time. You may even have to participate in a press conference tomorrow." She enjoyed the look of revulsion on his face.
"I think I can dissuade Bertram from approving that," Jane replied.
"And if you can't?" She was only half teasing him.
"Remember how I planted the idea in Volker's head that the best way to derail you was by coming after me?" He grinned.
She remembered how she'd secretly savored his warm hands and graceful fingers as they subtly brushed against her while they spoke to Volker in his office. It hadn't been overt enough to make her suspicious at the time; she'd just thought Jane was trying to keep her calm and focused. But instead it had put the idea in Volker's head that they were more than just friends and colleagues. Then she frowned. "You are absolutely not doing that on television. I'm going to make sure Cho stands between us."
Jane chuckled. "It would take a much stupider man than Cho to do that. I'll make a deal with you: you don't make me answer banal questions from the press, and I'll go to Mulligan's and play nice for an hour or two."
"Deal," she said. "I'll grab my jacket."
She went into her office, noticing an envelope lying on her desk that hadn't been there earlier. It was made of thick, cream-colored paper that looked expensive, with her name on it in fancy calligraphy. Jane must have snuck in earlier while she was at the party—it looked like the kind of extravagant gesture he was prone to.
When the gold, sparkly confetti fell all over her desk as she opened the foil-lined envelope, she was sure it was him. Extravagance and annoying messes: that summed him up nicely.
She smiled as she unfolded the heavy linen card with "Congratulations'" in gold ink across the front.
Then she dropped the card like it was coated in acid. "Jane!" she shouted.
She heard running footsteps in the hall—she must have sounded bad for him to run, she thought. But then, they'd been watching each other's backs so closely for so many weeks now that a certain amount of overprotectiveness remained.
"Lisbon?" He was out of breath but managed to sound calm as he took in that she was all right. His expression darkened as he took in her shock, and when she pointed at the desk he went forward, reaching for the card.
"No," she said, shaking herself back to normal. "Gloves."
He pulled out his handkerchief and picked up the card, frowning.
Dear Agent Lisbon,
Congratulations on your achievement. Though I cannot say I entirely approve of your methods, bringing down a man like Tommy Volker is quite a coup. You may pass along my greetings to him when you next meet, as we are well acquainted.
Also, please say hello to Patrick for me. His efforts on your behalf made me regret even more that he spurned my offer of friendship. What could we not have achieved together? But perhaps, in the end, you offer him something I cannot.
Enjoy your victory. I am pleased to see how well you are coming along, and I look forward to the day I have the opportunity to introduce myself to you.
It was signed with an "RJ" with extravagant flourishes.
Lisbon demanded, "Do you think it's real?"
"I'm afraid so." Jane was frowning.
"Notes aren't his usual pattern."
"No." Jane set the card down on the desk and tapped a finger against his lips. "There has only been one other, in fact."
His family. Oh God. Lisbon pulled her phone out of her pocket and began dialing frantically.
"Lisbon, I don't think that's what this is," Jane hurried to say, but she ignored him, pacing and fretting as the phone rang.
She didn't stop pacing until she'd talked to all three of her brothers, all of whom were fine, if a little annoyed at her for calling out of the blue and not explaining why. When she was finished, she turned to Jane, now sitting on her couch lost in thought.
"What does it mean?" she asked, going to sit beside him.
"Good question," he said. "The easy answer is that you've interested him, that he wants to form a relationship with you. It may also be a warning that he won't like it if I get myself killed on some random case instead of playing out whatever end game he has in mind for me." He paused. "A warning to me to be more careful, because my death will leave you in the hot seat. Maybe it won't even take my death. Maybe he thinks I've become predictable. Maybe you look more interesting."
She stared at him, aghast. Then she got hold of herself and said, "Guesswork aside, that looks like real calligraphy. There'll be clues there: paper, ink, calligraphers. And there's a relatively short time frame when it could have been put on my desk. We'll check everyone who was in the building."
"And at the end of all that exhausting investigating, you'll be left with no solid leads," he predicted, waving a hand dismissively.
"You don't know that for sure," she replied. It was an old argument they were both tired of having, so she didn't persist.
Jane absently scratched the healing cut on his chest, the top of which was just visible above the first button of his shirt. Lisbon hated looking at the reminder that she'd almost lost him to her obsession. Volker had done enough research on Jane to know that suicide by hanging wouldn't be believable. So instead his plan had been to have his henchman cut him in a way that looked self-inflicted but was reminiscent of Red John's style, assuming people would think Jane had finally succumbed to his demons.
Lisbon had a vivid sense memory of how Jane's blood had smelled, mixed with his sweat, as she'd hurried to staunch his bleeding, leaving the actual arrests to Cho, Rigsby, and Van Pelt. She still didn't know who'd actually cuffed Volker, but it didn't matter. Jane was alive, if scarred, and so was she.
Lisbon realized she'd laid a hand on Jane's chest, just like she had when she'd begged him to open his eyes, to talk to her. Embarrassed, she pulled it away, wondering what Jane had seen in her face.
He smiled gently at her. "We got him, Lisbon. It was worth a little blood."
"I'll believe that when he's sentenced," she said.
"I don't see how he can possibly avoid being convicted for attempted murder, seeing as you caught him in the act," Jane pointed out. "And now you'll have no trouble getting warrants for whatever you need to connect him to his other crimes."
Lisbon looked back over at the card. "I had to take him down. But I didn't think there would be hidden costs."
"We've known he watches us," Jane mused. "I wonder if he would have intervened if you had been a little slower. He hates sloppy imitations, after all."
Lisbon said firmly, "We can't know if he was ever close enough to do you any good. It's not something I'd trust your life to."
He was silent, and she knew he was wondering about might have beens. Perhaps this celebration could have marked the end of both their quests. On the other hand, perhaps it might not have happened at all, because Lisbon and her team would instead be making funeral arrangements for this impossible man only they truly knew and valued.
"You know," she said, "I was getting nowhere until I swallowed my pride and asked for your help. Maybe you should think about that."
He looked at her, surprised. "I'm not keeping anything from you at the moment."
"But you've never asked me to look over your little notebook. And I'll bet I've met 99% of the people you've shaken hands with," she pointed out. "Unless you're afraid I'll be angry with some of the names in there. You don't suspect Cho and Rigsby, do you?"
"I can't imagine Rigsby being described by anyone as a relentless manipulator," Jane said, shaking his head. "And Cho may have hidden depths, but he also has an old-fashioned sense of honor."
"You don't suspect my brother Tommy, do you?"
He shook his head again. "Although he did display a devious streak, in the end I was forced to conclude that no one you had a hand in raising could take pleasure in the suffering of innocents."
"Then I won't be angry," she concluded.
"All right. I'd value your insights."
She smiled at him, not trying to suppress it for once. "Come on. I'll buy you a drink, and in the morning we'll see what clues Red John left us." She grabbed an evidence bag out of her desk and carefully tipped the card into it, then locked it in her drawer. Jane helped her into her jacket, which usually made her roll her eyes but now felt comforting.
When she started toward the door, he grasped her hand to stop her. "You know how you watched me like a hawk after you figured out my plan?"
She narrowed her eyes at him. "Right up until you stupidly diverted our attention at the critical moment, yes."
"If you're going to help me and put yourself at risk, I'm going to watch you just as closely." There was no trace of teasing anywhere in his face or voice.
"I think that card proves I'm already at risk," Lisbon said. "And probably have been for years. Ignorance isn't protection. It never was. You just told yourself that, for your own reasons."
There was a peculiar light in his eyes that made her wonder if those reasons might extend beyond what she guessed. But this was not the time or place to think about that.
"Maybe," he said thoughtfully, starting to walk toward the door. Since he hadn't let go of her hand, she went with him, and they walked to the elevator.
Holding hands in the CBI building probably wasn't the smartest thing to do, she reflected. But then, convincing Jane to treat her more like an ally and less like a hindrance deserved some reward. And they were celebrating, after all.
Volker had underestimated the two of them, to his doom. She hoped Red John would do the same.
Author's Note: I know this isn't how it's going to happen, but that's what fic is for, right? And wouldn't it be cool/creepy if Volker and Red John were somehow connected? Thanks for reading, and a big hug if you take the time to tell me what you thought!