A/N: Okay, okay. I know, I said, this was going to be a one-shot. And then I started writing and it got longer and longer. So, now, I'd say, about two or three chapters total.
So, this is in response to Lia Walker's challenge Jane/Lisbon Accident from the plot bunny forum. Hope you like it. And, guys, reviews make me happy, so please, tell me what you think.
Disclaimer: No money made.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Chapter 1
"Are we there already?"
Agent Teresa Lisbon was glad she was sitting behind the wheel. Otherwise she would likely have done something she would have regretted later on.
"I swear if you ask one more time I'm gonna stop and you can walk to the scene!"
Her foot unwillingly pressed a bit harder on the gas, while she was using every bit of self-restraint to ignore the smirking consultant riding shotgun.
"Okay, okay."
Lisbon thanked whatever god was listening for the silence descending on the car.
"What about a game?"
To good to be true.
"Jane!"
"What? I'm bored. You won't let me drive and I can't show you a trick while you're behind the wheel. But a game doesn't request you looking anywhere than the road."
/Don't kill him, you might still need him. Don't kill him, you might still need him./ She forced herself to cling to her mantra.
They were heading for the Mineral Bar Camping ground outside Colfax where two campers had found a rather sudden end. Prior Lisbon had made the grave mistake of doubting one of Jane's vibes on a case. As a result the blonde consultant hadn't stopped talking since they got into the car. Alone. The other agents were driving there with another SUV, so they could part if necessary. Which led them to their momentary situation.
"What about word guessing? You think about something and I have to guess it?"
She shot him an exasperated sideways look.
"No? Okay, hm, let's see, how about Mother went shopping? Up to that?"
"Jane, I mean it. Shut. Up."
Again silence settled on the large SUV, but just as the first reprieve it didn't last long.
"What about this one, I start with a word and you state the first thing that comes to your mind, then I state the first thing that comes to my mind when I hear yours and so on?"
The image of him walking to the crime scene through the woods was getting more and more tempting. Instead, the dark-haired agent decided to ignore him, hoping naively that he'd stop on his own.
"Apple-pie!", he suddenly proclaimed happily.
Lisbon tore her eyes away from the road to stare at him as if seriously doubting his sanity.
"Now, what's the first thing you think about?"
Jane smiled broadly at her, like a child on Christmas. She shook her head, but couldn't quite hide the small grin tugging at her lips. It really was a good thing that Rigsby, Cho and Van Pelt weren't present. She highly doubted her ability to take on the whole bunch.
Oh, but for god's sake...
"Alright. Thanks Giving. Here, happy now?"
"Greatly. Okay, Thanks Giving.... Stuffed Turkey."
Lisbon was telling herself strictly that she was only doing this so he wouldn't ask again if there were there already. Because if he did, the senior agent could guarantee for nothing. Yet, there was a small smile on her face, betraying her efforts.
"Knife."
"Lisbon, Lisbon! The poor bird!"
Jane seemed to have the time of his life from the way he was beaming. At least he was enjoying this trip.
"That your next word, Jane? Poor bird?"
"What, no, no. Just thinking about the connection here. Knife, so - Steak."
The lead agent spared her companion another side glance.
"You hungry, or what?"
Jane though only gave her one of his brilliant smiles. He wasn't going to tell her what the first thing was when he thought of a knife. No, Red John really didn't fit into their small happy moment. He would try to make sure that it stayed that way.
"A bit, yea. Mind if we stop somewhere?"
He cocked his head, the typical Jane-sparkle in his eyes.
"Later."
"Huh."
"What?"
"That's your word?"
"Jane!"
Lisbon exhaled slowly. She had to have done something really heinous in a past life for karma to punish her with one Patrick Jane.
"Lisbon?"
"Fine! My word's cow, okay? Cow."
"That's interesting. Did you know that our normal cattle belong to the biological subfamily bovinae? They are directly related to the bison, the water buffalo, the yak and even spiral-horned antelopes. Amazing, isn't it?"
"Mind-blowing."
"It is. There was a documentary about it on TV last week. It was impressive."
Agent Lisbon shook her head. She knew he wasn't sleeping well, but seriously? Who in their right mind watched documentaries on cows?
"Your turn, Jane."
"Ah, yes. How about antelopes?"
The car ahead of them suddenly braked and turned into a smaller side-road without warning, forcing the black SUV to slow down. Attention solely focused on not rear-ending the idiot in front, Lisbon answered without really thinking.
"Hot."
"Seriously?", Jane chuckled. "You find antelopes hot?"
"What? No. They live where it's hot, so..."
"Sure", he smiled placatory, but that teasing glimmer didn't diminish from his icy blue eyes. "So, hot it is."
Patrick was tempted to say you, but wasn't sure how she would take it, so he settled on something neutral.
"Sun."
"Light."
"Clear."
"Excuse me?", Lisbon spared him a quick look.
He smiled softly, leaning back in his seat, for once turning his attention to the passing nature outside their vehicle.
"Yea, in sunlight, everything looks clear."
"Very philosophical, Jane."
"Ah, well, I have my moments", he smirked cheekily.
Lisbon shook her head. The enigma of Patrick Jane would forever puzzle her. One moment he was serious, spouting off fortune cookie wisdom, the next he was a little boy, playing tricks on everyone not fast enough to out-run him and then there were moments when he was retreating behind his shields, a fortress that made Fort Knox look like a doll house. The mood swings itself wouldn't have been a problem, irritating, yes, but manageable. What made Jane difficult was the speed in which he could change from out-going goof to cold-blooded avenger.
The lead agent pushed her thoughts away. It wasn't her business to figure out the man next to her, it was a hopeless quest anyway.
"My turn", she offered him a smile; "I choose lake."
"Loch Ness."
"Scotland."
Jane chuckled.
"What?"
"Kilts."
Unbidden an image of a certain smart mouthed blonde dressed in a tartan skirt rose in Lisbon's mind, causing a slight hiccup in her breaths. She was just glad that Jane couldn't really read her thoughts.
"I'm afraid I know what you're thinking of", his slightly disgusted comment came on cue.
They were driving along a calmer stretch of the road now, up ahead another street joined theirs, but as far as eyes could see there wasn't another vehicle.
Therefore Lisbon thought it safe to throw her companion a highly amused look.
"Oh, yea? And what-"
A sudden screeching sound interrupted their banter. Both occupants of the black SUV needed a moment to pinpoint the source for something that sounded suspiciously like screeching tires. Unfortunately, when they found it, it was already too late.
Unseen from where they had been coming, a large truck had driven up to their road, going far over the speed limit.
Assumptions were never good when driving, but Agent Lisbon had thought it safe to take away her gaze from the road, just for one short moment. She hadn't anticipated a sleep-deprived truck driver. She hadn't expected another vehicle.
She just hadn't seen it coming.
The impact came on sudden. To a degree expected by the helpless occupants of the smaller vehicle, but still shocking in its velocity.
Patrick had noticed the change in Lisbon's expression. He had heard the screeching tires of a fast approaching car. Yes, Patrick had known it would be only seconds before something large, speeding and most likely deadly hit the passenger side of their black SUV.
More than once, Jane had been accused of having a death wish. It was true to some point, he always told himself. He wasn't afraid to die. But as the sight of a giant truck came rushing at him, a death omen more obvious than any fake psychic could think of, he found that he didn't really want to go.
It was a startling realization to say the least. But still it rang true. Not now. Not here.
He could picture himself smashed by a truck, road kill, so to say. It wasn't an appealing image. It didn't fit. When he died, it was to be by Red John's hand. Or his own.
But then, things never turned out like he planned, right?
And so, in the mere seconds remaining for clear thoughts, Jane didn't see his life flashing by. He didn't see his beautiful wife, his perfect little girl. He didn't have to open their bedroom door once again, as he did every night in his sleep. He didn't relive the unusual nervousness when he met the team for the first time or the incredible feeling of having done something right for a change when the first culprit was caught because of his help.
No, Patrick only wondered why it always took something really drastic to realize what was important. And he asked the universe silently just what he had done to piss off fate so royally that it chose this to open his eyes. Exaggerating much, huh?
And then it was over, the magic moment of clarity when normal people recalled their past and Patrick Jane thought of fate and irony.
The pain came piercing, like an electric charge, setting nerve endings on fire. Luckily it didn't last long. Adrenaline mellowed what would have been excruciating agony.
And then darkness claimed the blonde consultant, his mind shutting down to spare him the experience of being crushed by a metallic monster.
His thought process slowed, returning to their earlier game. In sunlight, everything looks clear. What about the opposite, then? What about the blackness stealing his vision? It was the last thing he thought of, before unconsciousness knocked him out completely.
/ ~~~~~~ \
Teresa Lisbon took a moment longer to comprehend the situation. And when she did, she felt as if she going to be sick.
The small agent had always seen herself as a damn good driver. She never had an accident; it just didn't happen to her.
It was happening now.
People under immense stress often told of a somewhat detached feeling, as if they had lost their connection to their body. They were watching themselves seemingly from the outside.
Teresa had never believed that to be possible. But right now, it very much felt like she had lost every control over her material shell.
She wanted to shout, cry, step on the break, or the gas. She wanted to do something!
But all she was able to do was staring.
Time seemed to have lost its meaning, as her eyes took in every detail on the steadily approaching truck front.
Jane also seemed mesmerized by the sight. Most likely he was thinking about Red John and how he wouldn't be able to hunt the bastard down now. Maybe he was blaming her.
And, hell, he had every right to!
Then suddenly, time snapped back to its usual pace and the impact shook their comparatively small car to the core.
Out of instinct, Lisbon turned her face away from the splintering glass, raising her arms to protect as much of her head as possible.
When the airbags reacted at the same time as the metal body of their SUV lost its fight and bended under deafening protest, she was sure that at least one rib was broken.
Gasping for air she fought against the white safety measure blinding her. If she was going to die, she at least wanted to see her end.
Something cracked loudly, making her flinch.
By now, her whole body was trembling. Glass was cutting into her arms and shoulder, her chest burned in spite of adrenaline coursing through her blood stream.
But what was even worse was the fact that she could neither see nor hear Patrick. Was he hurt badly? Was he - No, she couldn't even think about this possibility!
Another smashing sound and - fuck, why couldn't she finally lose consciousness?!
The truck seemed to push them further and further. If Lisbon listened to her gut, she'd have said, they had already crossed the border to Oregon.
Again, something gave way noisily, the SUV tilting slightly to the driver's side.
And then it was over. They had stopped.
/ ~~~~~~ \
