AN: Don't get me wrong. I loved "My Blue Heaven." But it would have turned out a hell of a lot differently had I written it. And here's how. Hope you like it!
Disclaimer: I don't own The Mentalist.
The wet pavement of the driveway glistens as it's hit by the headlights, and the smell of fresh rain overwhelms her senses as she pulls her car into the garage. Lisbon turns off the ignition and opens the door, reaching for her purse. Her phone illuminates, indicating that she's just missed a call.
Sighing, Lisbon digs in her purse for the phone, wondering if whatever issue the town of Cannon River needs solving can wait until morning. It has been a long day, even by her standards.
She finally locates the phone and swipes at the screen. The darkened garage is flooded in an eerie light, and Lisbon starts as she looks at the caller ID. Turns out Cannon River doesn't need her after all.
Instead, the caller ID reads Cho.
Lisbon's curiosity increases exponentially when she notices that Cho has left her a voicemail. She becomes concerned when she realizes the voicemail is over a minute long.
Cho was never one for speeches, so whatever he has to tell her must be important.
Lisbon hits play. Then she jumps again. Because it's not Cho's voice that makes its way to her ear.
It's Jane's.
Or, at least, it's Jane's voice after several seconds of static.
"Lisbon," he finally says. "Wow, sorry, I…I just listened to your voicemail greeting. And, uh…wow. That's the first time I've heard your voice in over two years." There's a pause, and she can hear Jane clearing his throat. "God, I've missed the sound of your voice."
He pauses again, and Lisbon pictures him shaking his head as though to clear it.
"Sorry," he repeats. "You're probably wondering what the hell is going on. Yeah—about that. So, long story short…Abbott found me in Venezuela. He and I made a deal, and I'm back on US soil. Unfortunately, said deal involves me selling my soul to the FBI for the foreseeable future, but apart from that, I'm a free man. All charges have been dropped. Or they will be, I've been told. Until they are officially, I'm being kept in a detention suite. Which brings me to Cho's phone."
Lisbon's grip on her cell tightens as Jane chuckles softly.
"I lifted the phone from Cho's pocket. Or, rather, he let me pickpocket him. I'm sure he could have stopped me if he'd wanted to. But I think he knew I wanted to contact you, and since Abbott wouldn't let me near a payphone, this was my next best option."
Lisbon hears Jane take a deep breath.
"There are a lot of things I need to tell you, Lisbon, and none of them can be said over the phone. I'm trying to find a way to get to you, at least for a couple of days, before I officially start work here. I know I won't be able to fix everything in that time, but I want to start. If you'll let me, that is. You have every right to refuse to see me. I'd understand."
Jane's breath is shaky this time when he inhales. It mirrors her own.
"I miss you, Lisbon," he whispers, and the voicemail ends.
It takes Lisbon about thirty seconds to figure out how to make her muscles move again. She saves the voicemail quickly and then immediately hits Cho's name on the list of missed calls.
Jane picks up before the phone has finished its first ring.
"Lisbon?"
Lisbon's breath hitches. "Jane," she breathes. "Hi."
"Lisbon, I—" Jane begins, but he's cut off by the sound of a door slamming. Lisbon hears another voice in the background, but it's far from distinct. Jane gets back on the line. "I have to go. I'll see you soon, Teresa, alright?"
Lisbon doesn't even have time to respond before her phone beeps three times to tell her the call has been terminated. She looks down at the phone just as it goes dark, and she closes her eyes, resting her head against the back of the car seat.
Her heart goes haywire.
Two years without hearing his voice. Then, all of the sudden, she hears from him twice in one day. Once in real time.
She finally processes the implications of his call.
He's back. In the United States. Even if he can't manage to convince Abbott to let him visit her in Washington, she could head to…well, wherever he is to see him.
Where the hell is he, anyway?
Austin, she thinks. This is, at least, the last place she'd been aware of where Cho had worked. She wills her heart to slow down to something resembling its normal pace, trying to convince herself that Jane will be fine if Cho is with him.
She gets out of the car and walks into her home, feeling more than a little unsteady.
Cho calls her an hour later.
"So," he says.
"Yeah," she responds.
There's a few seconds of silence.
"Thank you for letting him call me," Lisbon says quietly.
"I don't know what you're talking about," comes Cho's reply. Lisbon thinks he might actually be smiling.
"What's going on?"
"It's going to take a week or so before the paperwork can be filed and the agreement becomes official. Until then, he'll be in our custody because he's still technically wanted for murder."
"How'd they find him?"
"Scuttlebutt is…through you."
"They tracked the letters he sent me?"
"I don't know the details, but that sounds right. Look, Lisbon, he wasn't forced or blackmailed into coming back. He chose to. Abbott offered him a good deal; I'm not surprised he took it."
Lisbon sits down in the armchair nearest her fireplace. "What were the conditions of the deal?"
"As far as I'm aware, there was only one. Apart from the murder charge being dismissed, but that went without saying."
"What was the one condition?"
"Jane wanted two days and a plane ticket."
"To see me?"
"He didn't say, but I think it's a safe bet."
Lisbon leans forward, resting her elbows on her thighs. "Is Abbott going to give in?"
"He already has. The tickets are booked for tomorrow. That's why I'm calling."
Lisbon can't help but smile. But then a thought occurs to her.
"You said 'tickets.' Plural."
"Jane will still be in FBI custody tomorrow. Abbott is chaperoning him to Cannon River, where he'll be signed over to you for the weekend."
Lisbon nods, forgetting for a second that Cho can't see her. "Right. Of course." She breathes in, breathes out. "Thanks, Cho."
"Don't mention it," he says. "All's well in Cannon River?"
"Yeah," says Lisbon.
"Good," says Cho, and Lisbon smiles to herself again. Typical Cho. Less is always more with him. "Good luck, Lisbon."
"You think I'll need it?"
Cho's answer isn't immediate.
"You might," he says finally.
Friday morning dawns just as bleary and dreary as the day before, and the rain doesn't let up as the afternoon drags on. Lisbon's staff leave precisely at five, but she is is still wrapping up some paperwork in her office an hour later when she hears the front door to the building open. She reminds herself to breathe. Then she stands up, making to move around her desk.
Agent Abbott appears at the door to her office before she takes a step.
"Lisbon," he says, looking over his shoulder at something—someone—and gesturing with his head. "Patrick Jane is in your custody for the next two days. I'll pick him up at five on Sunday." Abbott steps to the side, and his companion squeezes past him through the doorframe.
Two pairs of green eyes lock onto each other questioningly. But as soon as Abbott has stepped out of view, Jane moves forward, extending his arms to wrap Lisbon in a bear hug. Lisbon's arms move automatically to twist around Jane's waist, and she can't remember being so close to anyone physically in her life.
One of his hands moves up to cradle the back of her head. She drops her forehead to the crook of his neck and rubs a thumb up and down the small of his back.
"I missed you," says Jane.
"I missed you, too," she says. Or, at least, she tries to. The words come up a little strangled, but she thinks he understands the sentiment behind them anyway. "Are you okay?" she whispers into his neck.
Jane rocks them back and forth slightly. "I'm fine," he says, matching her tone. "I'm fine." She feels him take a breath. "How are you?"
Lisbon has to chuckle. "Can't complain," she says, feeling like she might cry. When she feels moisture on her neck, she wonders if she already has begun to. Then she hears Jane clear his throat loudly, and she realizes the tears are coming from him.
She pulls back slightly. "Don't you dare start crying, Jane. You're going to make me—"
But this only makes his tears fall more quickly, which, of course, leads to the same tears pooling in Lisbon's eyes.
She leans into him to hide this, and his arms circle more tightly around her. He sighs.
They spend the next minute like that, each attempting to pull the other together, then Lisbon steps back. But instead of dropping her hands, she raises them to frame his face, really taking him in for the first time.
His eyes are exactly the same, she notices immediately. Still a paradoxical mix of joyous and haunted, still a brilliant sea green. There are a few more lines around them than she remembers, but even these suit him somehow.
"You're blonder," she notes, smiling.
"Two years on the beach will do that to a person." He grins in return. Then his expression becomes more serious. "You're just as beautiful as I remember," he whispers.
Lisbon watches, amused, as a look of panic crosses his face.
"I didn't mean to say that out loud," Jane admits. "I mean," he says. "Not that it's not true. Because of course you are. Beautiful, that is."
"And you're babbling."
"I'm nervous."
"Me, too."
"So let's stop that."
"Agreed." She grins up at him, dropping her hands to her sides. "You're here," she says, still disbelieving.
He nods, looking overwhelmed.
She steps away, trying to clear her mind. "I want to hear about everything. Two years is a long time."
"It sure is," Jane agrees, and she flushes at the look of warmth he gives her.
"Let's get something to eat first," Lisbon suggests, grabbing her purse and then his hand. "Come on. I want to show you Cannon River." She pulls him to the door.
He follows.
"Lisbon?" he says as she shuts off the lights behind her.
"Hmm?" she answers, locking the door as they step outside the building.
"I like the uniform. Very authoritarian."
She rolls her eyes and feels her heart return to her.
Lisbon changes into yoga pants and a tank top after showing Jane inside her house. When she returns to the kitchen, he's already bustling around it with a familiarity that makes her feel like her skeleton has been replaced with jello. She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear and takes the plate of Chinese takeout he offers her. "Come on," she says. "Let's eat in front of the fireplace."
They keep conversation deliberately light over dinner. It's pleasant, and it warms her nearly as much as the fire does—but she finds herself eating quickly anyway, wanting to get to what comes after. She has two years' of questions to ask him, after all.
Jane beats her to the punch.
"That last day," he begins. "You gave me your car. You helped me. Why?" he asks, taking his last bite of moo shu pork. "From the day we met, I told you Red John was mine, and your answer was always that he belonged to the system."
Lisbon sets her plate aside and pulls her legs underneath her on the couch.
"I did think he belonged to the system. But the longer we chased him, the more and more I realized that Red John had ways to beat that system. If we arrested him and turned him over, like I'd originally wanted, I think we would have lost him." She looks over at Jane. "The most important thing to me was that he was brought to justice. It became clear to me near the end that the most likely way that would happen was if…"
Jane nods. "I killed him," he finishes.
"Yeah," says Lisbon. "That's why I helped you. I mean, it's part of the reason. I also…I also wanted you to be free. And I thought the only way you could be was if you were the one to kill him." She shifts toward him and chooses her next words carefully. "Do you feel free? Now, that is?"
Jane gives her a sad smile. "Hunting monsters changes you," he admits. "I'm free of the all-consuming loathing I felt after the deaths of my family, but I feel like I lost a bit of myself to McAllister along the way. Like he warped my DNA or something. He changed who I am. I don't think I'll ever be free of that."
Lisbon is almost afraid to breathe lest she shatter the delicate air between them. "You regret hunting monsters?"
Jane half-shrugs. "Yes and no. I don't regret killing him. The world is a better place without him in it. A safer place. But I took for granted a lot of things about the life I had before I killed him."
"Like what?"
"You," Jane answers immediately. "I took for granted being able to see your face every morning when I opened my eyes. When McAllister was alive, I had you, and when I killed him, I lost you. I regret that." He looks away. "And I regret the lies I told you, even if they were necessary to keep you safe." He shifts, resting one arm across the back of the couch. "In fact, most of my regrets relate to you, in some way or another. I was always too caught up in my past to experience the present with you. I want to remedy that."
Lisbon nods. "Okay, so let's start. Right now."
Jane gives her a curious look. "What do you mean?"
"No more talk about the past. I want to hear about your present." A log cracks in the fireplace, and Jane jumps at the sound. Lisbon smiles and points to his left hand. "When did this happen?" she asks, meeting his eyes bravely.
She'd noticed the absence of cool metal on his finger the second he'd hugged her earlier that afternoon, but it had taken her an hour to work up the courage to inquire about it.
Jane flips his hand over, as though evaluating how it looks without the band. "About five minutes after I made the deal with Abbott in Venezuela," he admits. He doesn't tell her where the ring is now, and she doesn't ask.
"What does that mean for you?" she whispers.
Jane looks up at her, and she can't remember a time his expression was so heartbreakingly honest. "I haven't really been able to work that out yet," he says. "Mostly I just feel this crushing sense of terror. It's making it difficult for me to think clearly."
Lisbon's brow furrows. "What do you have left to be scared of? Now that we know there are no more monsters in the dark?"
The shadows of the flames cross his face, lighting up his eyes, and for the first time, Lisbon sees that he is indeed terrified.
"It's not the monsters I'm afraid of, Lisbon. It's the darkness itself."
Lisbon mirrors his posture, draping an arm over the back of the couch to face him more fully. Her fingertips brush his.
"I'm not sure I follow."
Jane leans forward. "I want nothing more than to tell you exactly what you want to hear," he whispers. "But I can't."
Lisbon knows her face is blank. "Still not following," she says. "What exactly do I want to hear?"
Jane sighs. "Allow yourself to think of the thing you want most in the world."
She doesn't have to think.
You.
"That, right there—whatever you just thought of," says Jane. "I want to give that to you. But I'm out of my mind terrified."
Lisbon begins to see where he's headed with this. "You're terrified of getting involved with me," she deduces.
"I'm terrified of what it might do to you," Jane corrects. "It's not like I have the best track record—I essentially signed Angela's death certificate. And I've caused you far more heartbreak than happiness, far more pain than pleasure—"
"Stop it," says Lisbon firmly. "Just…just stop. You did not get Angela killed. And as for me, you've added so much meaning to my life, Jane. Sure, we've been through some bad times, but who hasn't?"
"I'm sorry," says Jane suddenly. "I'm so sorry, Lisbon. For telling you I forgot what I said to you before I shot you. For leaving you on the beach that night. For running away. For running away again—"
She interrupts him. "Did you make a list or something? Of apologies you need to get through?"
Jane's eyes shine in the near-darkness. "I had a lot of time to think about you while I was on that island. There are 207 things I need to make amends for."
Lisbon can't help the look of astonishment she feels flash across her face. In typical Jane fashion, he's doing nothing by halves—what appears to be his very first true apology overwhelms Lisbon in its depth and sincerity. But she can't stand the tension, so she tries to break it. "Only 207 things?" she quips.
A look of panic crosses Jane's face before he realizes she's messing with him.
"Let's save us both some time," says Lisbon. "I forgive you. For everything. You're here. That's enough."
Jane looks at her sadly. "In two days' time, I won't be here."
"And we'll cross that bridge when we get to it. But for now, live in the present, remember?"
He nods.
"Now, please tell me what you've been afraid to tell me so that I can tell you that you're being an idiot."
Jane gives her a false smile, a smile she knows he's plastered on his face because she'd expected him to laugh at her joke. He looks away, but she reaches out to touch his jaw to turn him back to her.
"Jane."
He swallows.
"I asked for two days and a plane ticket because I wanted to tell you something in person."
She doesn't move.
Jane takes a deep breath. "I want you to move on," he says. "I want you to fall in love again, to start a family. You deserve that. And before you tell me you don't think you'll be able to find someone else, let me remind you that I thought precisely the same thing for several years. I've never been so happy to be proven wrong. You see, falling in love again was every bit as powerful, as overwhelming, and as beautiful as it was the first time around."
She gapes at him, unsure how to answer. Then she figures it out.
"You're more of an idiot than I thought," she says, and she leans over to kiss him.
It takes Jane a second to respond, but then he does so. Enthusiastically. His hand comes up to brush against her cheek, and he pulls her against him.
Then, another second later, he pushes her away, looking panicked.
"Wait," he gasps, and the word somehow sounds like a cross between a shout and a whisper. His hand falls from Lisbon's cheek to her shoulder, and he holds her at arms' length. "No, I can't—I can't do this to you. I don't want this for you."
Lisbon just stares at him.
He starts rambling, and Lisbon tries to remember a time when she'd ever seen him so off-kilter.
"Lisbon, I…I live in Austin. You have a life here. You have a home here. I'll be more than 2,000 miles away from that home. And…and I've agreed to tie myself to Austin for the next ten years. I can't promise myself to you because I'll be breaking any promise I made the moment I set foot on that plane two days from now."
And she watches, helpless, as the first tear falls from his eye.
"I'm sorry, Lisbon. I'm so sorry."
However, as per usual, she knows exactly how to fix this dilemma he's designed for them both.
"Do you love me?" asks Lisbon.
Jane answers without hesitation. "Yes," he breathes.
Lisbon nods. "Then let me meet you halfway," she says, and gives him time to let her words sink in.
After a beat of silence, he dares to meet her eyes. "You mean…"
She nods again. "You gave me 2,000 miles. Let me give you the other 2,000." By halves indeed, she thinks.
Jane looks dazed. Then he grins at her before a somber expression replaces his toothy smile. "But...are you sure, Lisbon? This isn't like you at all. Moving halfway across the country for a man…"
"Jane, I've know you for over a decade, and I've been in love with you for nearly that long. In all that time, you and I have essentially been stuck in neutral—I think we can afford to accelerate a bit, don't you?"
His smile spreads to his eyes, causing the moisture that had been pooling there to fall. He reaches up to wipe the tears away, simultaneously reaching for her with his other hand.
He pulls her closer.
"I think so, too," he says, and proceeds to truly kiss her.
Her last thought before losing the ability to string together words coherently is that it turns out kissing is yet another thing Jane does not do by halves.