A Thousand Words
Hello :) So, I am still writing my multi-chapters, but this is just another project I've decided on for when I don't want to/can't write them. So, this is a series of one-shots exploring Jane and Lisbon's relationship, through photos they've taken over the years. Each one-shot is a thousand words, to match the phrase "a picture is worth a thousand words." So yeah, this is just pure Jane/Lisbon fluff I guess, so I hope you enjoy.
Disclaimer: Sorry. No rights unfortunately.
CBI ID
He had impressed them, apparently. They thought he was a psychic, and although he had corrected them many times, they were still awed by his observational skills. He had managed to put a crooked cop and killer behind bars. And now, they wanted him on as a CBI consultant. Patrick Jane thought he had been cursed to a life of loneliness, but it appeared there were people who still wanted him. It was nice to be needed, he realised.
He was nervous, but he didn't know why. It was his first official day as a CBI consultant, and according to Agent Lisbon, they required to take his photo for his official ID. He hadn't had an official photo taken since his family had been killed. The notion scared him, made his insomnia worse, so he'd left his motel room in the early hours of the morning, showering, shaving and even getting a fresh three-piece suit before going to CBI HQ. Teresa Lisbon looked slightly surprised to see him in the bullpen, so early in the morning, but she didn't say anything. Jane stood up from his leather couch in his corner. He had been in the place just a few days, and they'd already given him his own designated area. There were times he felt like a super hero, saving the world, one criminal at a time.
He was no hero though. It was through his own arrogance and ignorance that his family, his beloved wife and daughter, had been murdered brutally at the hands of a serial killer. The serious crimes unit seemed to ignore these facts though, and had already welcomed him warmly. Slowly, Jane approached the female agent's office. He didn't knock, and knew she was too polite to say anything if it annoyed her. It did annoy her, and he knew it. He absently noticed the atrocious red couch in the corner, and decided instantly that, one day, he would buy this woman a new couch. It would be a thank you gift, for accepting him and all his demons, but she wouldn't know that.
"Can I help you, Mr Jane?" she asked softly.
An awry smile came across his features. Lisbon still insisted on calling him Mr Jane, rather than just using his last name like the rest of her team. He had a seeking suspicion that she didn't think he would stay long enough for the formality to be dropped. He would prove her wrong. "When's the photo getting taken?" he asked her.
She smiled sympathetically. "It's eight in the morning," she told him.
"I know that," he said edgily.
"There's no need to be nervous, Mr Jane," she said with a light laugh. "It's just a photo," she left her desk, and walked to stand in front of him. "You've even cleaned yourself up for it," the dark haired woman told him with a smile.
He smiled back, but didn't dare tell her of his fears. He would never get close to anyone again. She knew, of course, about his family. That's why she treated him so nicely. He hated photos. He always had. Jane regretted it now, though; there was just one photo of him, Angela and Charlotte, taken just mere months before he had mocked Red John and they died. The photo stayed in his wallet, and the slowly dying believer in him liked to think they followed him everywhere. This wasn't true, of course, and he knew it.
"Mr Jane, the photo will be taken at 11," she told him.
He nodded slowly. "I'll have a look at some Red John files then," he said, though his statement sounded like a question.
She smiled sadly. "Okay," she whispered. "I'll come and get you when it's time,"
He was going to politely deny his offer; the idea of someone going out of their way to help him was completely foreign. Instead, he smiled. "Sure," he said.
He diligently read several of the files for just over two hours. By the time the rest of the team arrived-Wayne Rigsby and Kimball Cho, Jane had fallen asleep, finding listening to them work quite soothing.
"Mr Jane," someone was shaking his shoulder softly.
He opened his eyes to see Agent Lisbon kneeling down next to his couch. He smiled. "Is it time?"
She nodded. "Yeah,"
He sat up and yawned. "Where do we go?"
She motioned to somewhere behind her with a flick of her head. "Come on. I'll show you,"
He followed her down countless hallways and flights of stairs, until they were in the mail room. Lisbon wrinkled her nose. "I've told them so many times we need to move this place," she muttered to herself.
Jane smiled slightly. Lisbon pointed him in the right direction. "Just over there. It shouldn't take too long," she told him. "It's not every day we get new consultants,"
He laughed slightly. "Thank you, Agent Lisbon,"
"No problem," she replied. "I'll just wait over there," she told him, showing him a couch in the corner.
Before she could sit down, a sturdily built man with red hair walked into the small room. "Agent Lisbon," he stammered. "Who's this?" he asked.
Lisbon smiled. "Ron, this is Patrick Jane, my consultant."
Jane smiled proudly. Not just a consultant. Agent Lisbon's consultant.
"This way please, Mr Jane," Ron told him.
Jane had to sit on a small, red stool, the same material as Lisbon's couch. It squeaked slightly as he put his weight on it.
"Okay, Mr Jane, look this way please. I know it sounds stupid, but no smiles please. Ron was sitting behind a modest but large camera. "CBI protocol," he explained.
Moments later, he was walking out of the room, proudly donning an identification card: Patrick Jane. CBI Consultant. He smiled despite himself. Perhaps photos weren't all bad.
Lisbon was sitting on the couch, just as she promised. "Come on, Jane" she told him. "We have a case."
It seemed he would be staying after all.
A/N: Thanks so much for reading! I really hope you liked it, and will stick around for some more. Tell me what you think :)