Jane had perfect eidetic memory. Normally.

When he'd first sat in Cho's car so many months ago, he'd given an intense glance at the controls just in case something happened during the crime scene investigation they'd ridden to. Wouldn't be the first time he'd suddenly needed to get away from an irate witness or the irritation of local law enforcement, so he always prepared to drive his ride.

Earlier today when he borrowed the car – with Cho's full knowledge and permission – Jane didn't think twice about where everything was. The key found the ignition without a second thought on Jane's part. The gear shift, the pedals, even the radio controls were exactly where his memory directed his hands and feet. There was no hesitation whatever.

Then Pike answered the door. God! It was late, just like Lisbon had indicated. What was he doing there at that time of night?

Well, of course Jane knew what Pike was doing there. True, the art major…er…art agent was fully clothed, and Lisbon hadn't appeared at the door with a hastily donned robe. If there were a god, Jane would be thanking it for the small favor. It was bad enough that Mr. Gentleman answered the door. Mr. "He's-There-For-Me" opened and didn't even smirk at his obvious victory. Bastard.

It rattled Jane enough that returning to Cho's car was a little like being dropped into Apollo 11 during a moon mission after having only an Etch-A-Sketch to practice on. Jane stared at the dark dashboard, overwhelmed with flooding memories of fifteen different vehicles he'd travelled in since returning to the States. And Lisbon's Volt. And her Charger. And her Mustang. No, that was Cho's Charger. Or…Van Pelt's? No, Van Pelt had a Jeep. With Iowa plates that said "ZOOOM" but should have said "NAÏVE" or "HOPEFUL" or something.

Jane gripped the steering wheel like it was made up of McAllister's DNA. Or Pike's neck. Except…

As though gripping bare electrical wires, Jane's hands shook with a vibrating shock. He released the wheel, flexing his fingers as the rage left his body. Jane thought himself only capable of strangling one man, and that bastard was now dead. Sure, he had threatened Haibach; however, most of that was part of the con, despite Jane's deep concern for Grace's safety. But no matter what other sadness filled Jane, no matter what disappointment, he couldn't bring himself to contemplate violence against Pike. Nausea filled him at the thought that he'd even considered it for Mr. Perfect over jealousy of Pike's status as an 'unbroken' man, the 'untarnished' mate.

Jane sighed, struggling to regain perspective and calm within his heart and thoughts. He meant what he'd said to Lisbon. He wanted her to be happy – happier than Life had ever allowed before or since meeting him.

Marcus Pike was a good guy who could bring that. According to office scuttlebutt, he'd been married before and had divorced. A smart man like him had let it go, choosing not to relive his grief, working around getting stuck in his disappointment and made the healthy decision to get past it. Hell, he'd probably even figured out where it had gone wrong and vowed to never allow his relationships to go that way again.

And Lisbon had led The Cop Life for a long time, probably too long to be thrown back into the role of foot soldier which is what she'd remain if she stayed in Austin. Going to DC and settling down might be good for her. Perhaps she could take a job teaching. Her leadership skills would serve her well there. A position at the FBI Academy instructing cadets about combating evil in the world? Maybe even hit the lecture circuit? The Agent Who Brought Down Red John and Exposed the Largest Law Enforcement Corruption Ring in the West.

Jane sighed again, wondering if his lungs were being pushed out of his chest, heavy with the weight of guilt and sadness pressing on him. He really wanted Teresa to be in the best place possible.

So why did Washington DC seem like a death sentence?

Fumbling in the dark, Jane finally found the ignition slot and inserted the key. With another sigh, he turned it only to have nothing happen. What the hell…?

Oh, that was the problem. Cho's vehicle was a manual transmission. Press the clutch while tu-

Movement in the corner of his view made him look over. Lisbon's front door opened and a tall man stepped out.

Shit! Lisbon would think he was stalking her if she saw him! Jane ducked in the seat just as voices reached him. Shouted, angry words, although he couldn't make out them out. Reaching up, he maneuvered the rearview mirror to catch the action, but the damned thing wouldn't turn far enough.

"-You can have him!" Pike shouted.

"But Marcus…"

Cho would have to forgive him, but Jane pulled hard, yanking the mirror right off the glass. Excuses raced through his head, sorted by plausibility. The words "What really happened?" in Cho's voice dismissed every lie as Jane thought them up.

Holding the mirror just so, Jane could see an agitated Pike silhouetted in the porch light, arms flailing as words evaded him. Lisbon remained in the doorway as Pike continued to thrash and an unintelligible rant picked up. At one point, she stepped forward, reaching to caress his face, but Marcus struck her hand away, knocking it into the door jamb. Lisbon brought it to her chest, rubbing it soothingly but Pike didn't even notice.

Jane felt a hot stone form in his chest behind his breastbone and he contemplated throwing himself out of the car, racing to intervene. However Marcus didn't touch her again, and she simply stared, her expression growing harder. Pike turned away, walking up the sidewalk directly towards Cho's car. Jane dropped down again, expecting any minute that Pike would be trying the car door and yanking Jane out by his collar.

Instead an engine started and a car accelerated away.

What to do next? He wanted to get out and console Lisbon, but his intuition told him that it would be awkward when she realized what he'd witnessed. Besides, the fight was about him. He knew that. Clearly the lovers hadn't been fighting before he arrived. Was Pike that insecure? It hadn't seemed so before.

Then again, Jane hadn't before shown up at 11:30 at night bearing gifts. In fact, Jane had taken such a 'hands off' stance; it wouldn't surprise him if Pike assumed Jane to be a eunuch.

Nothing could be farther from the truth. Or would be if not for his mastery of biofeedback which gave him the ability to suppress both the effects of alcohol for ten shots of cheap booze and a raging hard-on prompted by the sexiest woman this side of the Pecos. Or even the other side of the Pecos.

Jane raised his mirror—sorry, Cho's mirror-up to look for Lisbon. She was braced against the door jamb, looking the direction in which the vehicle sped away.

Oh, Teresa, that idiot doesn't know what he's doing. He just made his biggest fear about my intentions come true when they didn't have a chance before.

As he watched, Lisbon shook her head and walked into her house.

Jane took a deep breath and started the car. He needed to be away before she looked out the window with a calmer mind and recognized Cho's vehicle. After checking the side view mirror, he pulled away from the curb and started down the street.

Then his phone rang. Her ringtone, the Cuban song called 'Dos Gardenias'.

Two gardenias for you;

With them I wish to say:

I love you, I adore you, my life

Place all your attention on them,

because they are your heart

and mine.

He smiled and listened just a moment longer. She wouldn't recognize the song, being that it was a Cuban standard that he first heard on his island, and that was why he chose the tune. It was perfect to him, gardenias being his favorite flower AND symbolic of a secret love.

But why the hell was she calling him? Had it been a misdial? Had she intended to ring Marcus to demand an apology but when it came to apologies her fingers automatically dialed him?

No choice but to answer, preferably in his lighthearted tones.

"Hello, Lisbon. Didn't like the cannoli?"

"Jane? A-are you still…still around?"

"I'm…at the…uh, Texaco a few blocks away. I needed gas after driving to the restaurant in Dallas. Do you need something? Cream for your coffee? Tiramisu instead of the cannoli?"

"Patrick…can you come back?"

He stared at the empty street before him, dimly aware that the car was slowing and in danger of stalling because his foot had come off the accelerator.

"Teresa…I…I'll be right there."

He'd barely stepped onto the porch and raised his hand to knock when the door swung open. While she stared at him not speaking, not moving, not even seeming to breathe, he studied her face.

No tears currently on her face although it was evident there had been some before. What had Pike said to her to make her cry in the short time between Jane's departure and Marcus's stormy exit?

Unless…it was…? No, it couldn't be for him. Although she looked stunned at his confession that he truly wanted her to be happy, he didn't intend any kind of-of-of guilt trip.

Well…maybe a tiny bit. But hell, he couldn't help it. He was a little hurt that she hadn't told him that she was considering a transfer. Based on the looks of sympathy he'd garnered from everyone in the FBI building lately, he was the only one she hadn't told. And here he thought it was simply because she was dating.

But he didn't intend tears. He never wanted tears for his darling Lisbon. As strong as she was, tears meant severe pain, more pain than when Sam Bosco was killed. Worse pain than when she herself was shot. To know he was the cause would be like a slow torture to him, something he couldn't escape.

"Teresa…what's wrong? What's going on?"

Her face twitched as though she were unclenching her jaw.

"You. That's what's wrong."

He'd barely had time to absorb her words when she grabbed his arm and yanked.

"Get in here."

To be continued...