Note: I'm updating this first chapter, although it's very similar to the 2015 version. This may or may not mean I've been working on following chapters.

You again

Lisbon looks up at the bright sky and sighs, closing her eyes to enjoy the warmth of the morning sun on her face. It's that time of the day between her first coffee and going to the crime scene, that peaceful moment when she feels awake enough to enjoy something as simple as California spring weather without having to solve another murder yet.

Today isn't just like any other new case morning though, and if by some odd occurrence she'd forgotten, the pounding of her heart that hasn't slowed down from the moment she woke up would have reminded her anyway. She hasn't been able to sleep more than a couple of hours the night before, but, although she knows she'll pay the price later today around paperwork-o'-clock, it's not like she could do anything about it.

She starts as the huge metallic gate in front of her emits its familiar horrible, screeching sound, and she slowly opens her eyes, trying to convince herself that the film of sweat she can already feel covering her palms is to blame only on the weather, and nothing else.

Then she stares quietly as the three-pieces-suit-wearing silhouette of her former consultant approaches her calmly, and she takes an involuntary deep breath to calm her nerves. The fact that he isn't wearing what had become his usual attire –that hideous prison uniform– anymore in favor of the suit she recognizes from all those years ago, and the almost visible joy to his steps, make this instant feel too real all of a sudden. Selfishly Lisbon wishes she'd had more time to prepare for it, because it feels like it's all happening so soon.

It's not that she's afraid. Well, not only.

For the most part, she's actually relieved beyond words, to see Jane again out in the sunlight and not in that sickening visiting room she's gotten too familiar with over the past few years.

Still, there is no denying some apprehension about the future and what it may hold, about however they're going to include their past into it.

When he gets closer and finally stands right in front of her, looking more calmly and healthily determined than she's ever seen him, she knows she has to say something, anything to break the awkwardness that threatens to taint this reunion.

But her mind goes temporarily blank at the impossible task, because she's got no idea which words would fit here. What is the appropriate greeting for welcoming your partner back to freedom when he committed a very public murder, after years of planning it under your naive and hopeful care, in the midst of a friendship so ambiguous and convoluted that you two were the only ones who never dared to label it anything else?

And as she has many times since that day, Lisbon almost lets herself drown in the desire to simply get back to before, when Jane hadn't pulled the trigger yet, when she hadn't had to find out while getting rushed to the hospital that he'd betrayed her trust and gone with his original idea instead of listening to her numerous pleadings not to.

But of course, of course it can never be exactly as it once was. He's changed, she's changed, and although she is glad to see him back in the real world, she has no idea how they're going to handle it.

For example, will he stay in the CBI? Technically, he has to. It is one of the reasons he is getting out so soon after all.

But will he want to work with her again? Although many opposed that idea when it was first brought up, it did eventually seem fitting that she would be the Senior Agent responsible for him should he ever come back –besides with every other qualified member of the CBI declining the offer, it's not like there had been much of an alternative. But there's no telling what Jane himself is going to decide once he's well and truly out.

On her part, Lisbon agreed as soon as she heard there was a possibility for him to be freed, choosing to prioritize his getting out over the lingering shame his last stunt had brought on. For she may have moved forward on some levels, and her three former employees may now be long gone in different professional directions – it has been a while after all– but she never, ever had any plans to leave Sacramento.

She used to find excuses for it, like the fact that it's become her adopted hometown after her troubled teenage years and the familial mess she's had to handle back in Chicago, that it made more sense for her to keep working at the CBI even after the Red John fiasco, if only to show how resilient she, and by extension the local forces, are.

Deep down though, she knows it's probably obvious to everyone that she just couldn't get away from her former partner. That even if she amply proved that she doesn't need him to do a good job –if a little too zealous in the time he's been away, but even she didn't care enough to count the hours she spent in the dark of her office– she just couldn't abandon him and pretend their past together never meant anything to her.

Just like she can never pretend to be okay with what Jane has done, with the pain he caused her back then, with the time it has taken for her to finally accept to see him again and start mending their relationship in any way possible –even if it involved him living behind bars.

They never actually got to the bottom of it together: he saw a court-ordered therapist for a while, and she saw enough empty bottles of liquor for Kimball Cho himself to disregard hierarchy and not-so-nicely suggest that she get some kind of help, too.

And then when they'd finally been in the same room together for the first time, the silence had only been broken by the two of them pathetically bringing up virtually anything but that topic. They started reminiscing their shared past, talking about the other members of their odd little family, speaking about a few cases here and there –Lisbon never revealing too much about her ongoing ones, Jane always finding out anyway– just as if they simply hadn't seen each other for a long, weird vacation. Jane always made sure she left with a smile on her face, and Lisbon always brought a blueberry muffin –if he promised he wouldn't use it to escape this time.

Which is why in that pattern-breaking moment, they both know that they need to have a serious talk about all of this at some point, about Jane's actions and their consequences, about how and if they can work together now, about so many things that are inevitably going to come to light now that they won't be able to use the limit of visiting hours to avoid them.

She almost scoffs at that. The ex-conman who has only ever talked to her about his past on occasions he was losing his mind over a Red John case, and the fiercely private cop who needed to be framed for murder to willingly reveal any kind of personal information in his presence, need to sit down and have a real, serious conversation about something as common as this murder, its repercussions on them both, and the confusing partnership they developed over the years?

Yeah, that's going to be easy.

Be that as it may, pretty much any place other than right outside the prison he's just spent years in would be better-suited to get into such an emotionally heavy, probably painful talk for both of them, so Lisbon finally clears her throat and instils a confidence she doesn't really feel into her voice, praying that it doesn't shake when she eventually pushes the words out.

"There you are, Jane! Almost didn't recognize you without the handcuffs."

The blond man locks eyes with her and says nothing, and for a moment she thinks her stupid remark may have hurt him. After all, he has just spent an awful lot of time behind bars and wearing cuffs for longer periods of time than his usual harmless cons, and she suspects even though he was willingly paying for his crime and keeping a straight face doing it, those years haven't been easy on him.

Then again, this is Patrick Jane, which means this might very well be his infuriating self, letting her know without a word that he isn't duped even a little bit by the fake cheerfulness of her tone, and making the situation as uncomfortable as he can just to see how she will react.

Right when she opens her mouth to either apologize for her misplaced humor, or scowl him for reading her mind without permission –she still isn't sure which– Jane gets suddenly closer and throws his arms around her back, pulling her flush against him.

"Lisbon. It's been too long," he breathes out in her ear, his voice sending shivers through her body.

That's absurd, some part of her brain points out. He's seen her no longer than a few days ago on her weekly visit when they'd sat across from each other, his hands playing with the usual pastry laying on the table between them as they made small talk and attempted, as always, to ignore the oddness of the situation.

But she knows what he means, and God, does she share the feeling.

Patrick Jane is here, is back, and it feels like she hasn't actually heard him speak in years, because his voice is so different today. It's lighter, free of the brick walls it has been contained within for what has felt like an eternity even on her part, making it a little weaker, a little quieter every time she went to see him, every time the guilt of his actions seemed to weigh in on his shoulders more than the week before.

His arms around her feel different too, and that makes more sense because they haven't actually touched like this in years. There's a mix of scents and sensations after she recovers from the words and simply focuses on the hug, and although she both wishes she had eternity to explore them and fears digging in and name it all, there's a hint of the strongest one that detaches itself form everything else.

It's that one particular feeling she always got from him in her darkest hours, the one she's tried to convey back anytime –and there had been plenty of those– that she felt he needed it, the one she's missed so much without knowing what to call it. That one feeling her rationality wants to run away from, because she shouldn't be craving it from him.

Jane feels like home.

Facing that revelation today and in that moment is too much for her to handle, and so she hesitantly pulls back from their embrace after gripping his shoulder a couple of times like she always used to do, an archaic reflex she can't contain.

"But don't despair, partner," he quips with more assurance as their eyes meet again, a long forgotten twinkle in his. "The day is young, and I have yet to insult someone important enough to wear a new pair by the end of our shift!"

He grins his most devilish smile at her, and she rolls her eyes to hide the tug she can feel at her heart upon seeing the expression on his face. Jane seems genuinely happy and carefree, and if it is something completely alien to witness, she has to admit that it looks good on him.

Everything is different now, yet the bond between them doesn't seem that radically changed from that fateful morning they took on the gas station bomber case.

And as Jane walks in direction of her car, asking questions she doesn't hear –that probably have nothing to do with their job anyway– she smiles to herself and shakes her head, wondering how long it's going to take for her consultant's annoying habits to erase the positivity she's feeling on this early morning.