They Meet

A Jane & Lisbon Story

By Brown Eyes Parker

Rated: T

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

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Chapter 1

"I know her," Sam Bosco said. "I could introduce you instead of your standing here, staring at her all night."

Patrick Jane frowned at the man he was often partnered with during investigations. "I was not staring at her!"

Bosco snorted. "I know I may not be as observant as you are Jane, but I can tell when a man finds a woman attractive. And you, my friend, find Teresa Lisbon completely attractive. I bet you're trying to figure out how to meet her right now. I can spare you the process and introduce you."

"Actually, I was thinking about how she must have been unprepared for tonight. Her dress is a size too big, she's clutching the top like she's afraid that it'll fall down any second. And she keeps looking at the door, like she's waiting to make an escape as soon as this thing is over and as fast as she can go in high heels."

Bosco rolled his eyes. "Now that you've read her in the same efficient manner that you use with everybody else you come in contact with, I'll introduce you. Come on Jane, it's been a year since you got divorced. You need to move on with your life."

"It still feels too soon."

"Come on, this woman might change your life forever and you won't know it unless you meet her properly."

"How do you know her again?" Patrick asked.

"I sort of dated her before I met Mandee," Bosco answered offhandedly.

Patrick raised an eyebrow. "Sort of? Do you still have feelings for her?"

"Oh no, you are not going to read me! Not again!" Bosco replied. "I am happy with Mandee; I don't have any remaining attraction for Teresa. It's all in the past, where it belongs. But I think she might be good for you. I'm just asking for you to meet her, not marry her. You don't even have to ask her out. You only need to know her name, that's all."

Patrick sighed. "Fine. I'll meet her but only because I know you won't stop nagging me if I don't go and meet her."

Bosco smiled triumphantly. "Come with me."

"She's talking to Hightower; don't you think it can wait until she's free?"

"I am sure that Hightower won't mind the interruption," Bosco told him. "Especially if it means you'll have a life outside of work."

"I have a life outside of work," Patrick said.

"I'm sure there's somebody out there who'd be impressed by all the books you've read, but I'm talking about a life outside of the library too. You know, like the kind normal members of the human race have."

Patrick rolled his eyes but allowed Bosco to lead him towards Madeleine Hightower and their hostess for the evening without commenting any further. It was fruitless to argue with the man anyways, both of them were stubborn and didn't easily relinquish their stand on things.

When they were standing about a foot away, Hightower exchanged a knowing smile with Bosco before making her excuses to Teresa Lisbon and going off to find her husband.

The petite brunette smiled at Bosco. "Good evening Sam," she said.

"Good evening Teresa," he replied. "I was wondering if you would allow me the pleasure of introducing you to my partner and sometimes friend, Patrick Jane."

"Of course you may," she answered, turning her cherry-lipped smile at him.

Bosco smiled too. "Patrick Jane, Teresa Lisbon. Teresa Lisbon, this is Patrick Jane."

"Hello Mr. Jane," Teresa said, holding out her hand towards him. "It's very nice to meet you."

Patrick nodded and cleared his throat, receiving the offered hand. "The pleasure is all mine."

There was a long moment of awkward silence and then Bosco cleared his own throat. "I believe I'll go and find Mandee. Jane, why don't you ask Teresa to dance? Her father is the one who made tonight possible, the least one of us could do is ask her to dance once."

"Sam!" Teresa said as he disappeared. She turned to Patrick and shook her head. "Really, you don't have to ask me to dance. I am perfectly content to just stand here and watch."

"I guess it lessens the chances of your dress falling down too," Patrick answered.

Teresa looked scandalized. "Excuse me?"

"The way you're holding it to your chest, it is so obvious that it doesn't fit you properly. You bought it quickly, like you found out last minute that you were coming tonight."

"My father doesn't like to be around lots of people," Teresa told him. "I usually come in his place."

"Recovering alcoholic?" Patrick guessed.

"Not that it's any of your business Mr. Jane but my father has been sober for ten years now. But yes, being around people who drink makes him uncomfortable. He says he'll go to an event but he always backs out at the last minute," Teresa answered defensively. "If it means that he'll stay sober, I would prefer to make last minute dress purchases and go in his place. Do you have a problem with that?"

"Why should I? You're a devoted daughter and that is admirable. Lots of girls in your situation would be very self-involved."

Teresa raised her eyebrow. "In my situation?"

"You don't hold the air of somebody who's had a considerable amount of money for years. I figure that you're fairly new to the millionaire status."

"I've heard about you and how you're good at reading people," Teresa said. "It's why the CBI has the highest closed case rate over any organization in California right now."

"I do okay," Patrick answered modestly.

"Then may I make a suggestion?" Teresa asked. "And I do mean kindly, of course."

"Of course."

"Stick to your job and don't read me anymore."

"Or else?" Patrick asked.

"Or else nothing," Teresa replied. "I just don't want somebody that I don't even know dissecting my life."

"But you have an unfair disadvantage. You already know a lot about me, you read about it in the papers or in the tabloids. And I know Sam and Mandee Bosco must have already discussed me with you at great length on top of it all. I could tell from the way you agreed to meet me when he first brought me over to introduce us."

"I know a few things," Teresa admitted. "Like two years ago you were one of the United States most renowned psychics. You did readings for Regis & Kathie Lee, for the president's wife. You won People's Sexiest Man of the Year. And then one day, there was a tragedy. Your daughter died. The Enquirer said she had been hit by a car. Everybody else said she had drowned in the ocean near your Malibu beach house. Your wife eventually left you and then your fame disappeared quickly after she did."

"Those are the facts," Patrick answered, not allowing her to see how she had affected him. "But not the complete truth. The magazines always victimize the wives and villainies the husband. Have you noticed that?"

"So, you weren't the villain in the story?"

"Did Bosco say that I was?"

"He told me that it wasn't any of his business to tell your story."

Patrick sighed; he couldn't believe he was going to air his laundry for somebody he didn't even know. But there was something about her that said he could trust her completely; maybe it was the way she looked vulnerable clutching an emerald green dress to her chest or her big eyes that had kindness in the depths of them.

"There weren't any villains or victims in this story," he told her. "Angela and I lost our daughter, she drowned one day. Her nanny had taken too much Nyquil or something like that; I forget what excuse she used. But she'd fallen asleep and back door was open. Charlotte wandered outside, maybe she wanted to build a sandcastle or play in the waves. We'll never know. When the nanny woke up, Charlotte was gone. . . her body was. . ."

He looked at her and saw the stricken look on her face, mixed in with sympathy and a desire to cry for somebody she didn't even know. It gave him the drive to go on, to tell her the truth that only his ex-wife and their lawyers knew.

He drew a breath before continuing. "Her body washed up three hours away from our home, she never stood a chance. She didn't know how to swim, didn't know how dangerous the ocean really was. We reminded her that she shouldn't go near the water without us, but you know little kids won't always remember the rules when they really want to do something."

"And then what happened?" Teresa asked. "After they found her?"

"We buried our daughter, of course. And then that's when things got really bad. Angela wanted to play the blame game. She blamed the nanny for not calling in sick, she blamed me for having a meeting that day, and she blamed herself for going to the spa with her friends instead of staying home with Charlotte. When she was done blaming people, she got depressed. Most days, she couldn't get out of bed. I had to be strong enough for the both of us. And that was hard. That was really hard. Then one day, a year and two days after we had lost her, I suggested we try and move on with our lives. Maybe have another baby.

"But she thought I was trying to replace Charlotte. And she never wanted to replace Charlotte, so I suggested couples counseling. When she rejected that idea, I realized we had drifted apart. A week later, she filed for divorce. I didn't cheat on her, I didn't do drugs or get drunk or hurt her. If I did anything wrong, I was blind to how unhappy she really was. And when she asked for a divorce, I gave it to her because I didn't want her to be unhappy anymore."

"And your career as a psychic ended," Teresa said.

"I never really believed in what I was doing," Patrick answered. "I only did it because it was the thing I was used to from my childhood and because there was good money in it. I always wanted my kids to have the kind of life I never did. I didn't want them to grow up in a trailer, to fall asleep in Atlanta and wake up in Atlantic City."

"And how did you end up with the CBI?" Teresa asked.

Patrick shrugged. "I met Virgil Minelli at an event once, he was impressed with me. Told me if I ever decided to quit being a psychic and go straight, there would be a job for me at the CBI. They could use somebody with my skills. After I got divorced and quit being a charlatan, I needed something to do with my life. So, I looked him up and asked him if he still needed my help. He did, so he hired me on the spot. The rest as they say is history."

"And now Madeleine Hightower is the boss," Teresa said.

"Yes," Patrick answered. "Minelli met somebody and decided he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her. We keep in touch; he wants to make sure I'm behaving myself for the new boss. To make sure I'm still stable."

"Are you?"

Patrick didn't know if she was asking if he was behaving himself or if he was still stable. So he nodded. "Yes, yes I think I am. What about you though? What's your story?"

"Don't you already know?" Teresa asked as the orchestra started to play the last song.

"They're only educated guesses."

She shook her head. "If I tell you right now then there might not be a guarantee that we'll see each other again. As friends."

"Sure."

"The party's almost over, I think I'm going to slip away now," Teresa whispered. "I'll be in touch soon."

Patrick watched her disappear, completely intrigued by the woman who had listened to him for a few minutes without judgments. She was the first person he had been able to completely open up to in three years, she had been even easier to talk to then the therapist the lawyer handling his divorce had insisted that he go and see.

After he waited a while, giving her time to get a head start on him so she wouldn't think he was following her, he left too and went home to his lonely apartment.

TBC. . .

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Author's Note:

This is a prequel to Nick & Nora, but you don't have to read that to understand what is going on here. I hope you enjoyed the first chapter and that you'll tell me what you think! I think this is going to be fairly long, so prepare yourselves!

Until Next Time!

Love,

Holly, 1/2/2015_