Disclaimer: Nope, I didn't manage to get in on owning this new show either.

Author's Note: I was afraid I'd hate this episode, but I didn't. And work today decided to be difficult and time consuming so I wasn't able to put a tag together. So I'm making a virtue out of necessity and trying something new. I'll try to work up something more satisfying, but in the meantime I highly recommend starry19's fantastic "Reunions and Remnants."

Cho

This oughtta be good, Cho thought as he waited next to the front door. This gleaming bastion of law and order was no place for Patrick Jane. He wouldn't be here five minutes before he'd get the urge to graffiti the walls or something.

If Abbott had asked, he'd have told him this was a bad idea. He'd even have told him why. And he'd certainly have told him that his only hope in hell of getting Jane to do anything productive was currently sitting upstairs hating Abbott's guts.

But Abbott hadn't asked. And Cho wasn't going to volunteer anything. That wasn't his style.

It was good to see Lisbon again. He felt guilty for not keeping in touch, even though it had been her idea for them to stop communicating when he applied to the FBI. She'd known she was under surveillance—another reason she disliked Abbott. She hadn't wanted to make things difficult for any of her old team, so she'd kept her distance. Though she'd kept in touch with the Rigsbys, he knew, after they'd gone independent.

For her sake, he wanted to tell her to go back to her quiet little job and tell Jane what to do with himself. But he knew she wouldn't. No, Jane called and she came running, like always. She might snark and glare, but she'd do anything he asked. Even work for Abbott.

The FBI should count itself lucky to get Lisbon on any terms. She was talented, hardworking, and a person of integrity, which was hard to find these days. She deserved better than to be Jane's babysitter, except of course that she apparently wanted to be.

If that was love, he didn't want any part of it.

Jane was scruffier than the last time they'd met, and he seemed emotional at their reunion. Cho wasn't much of a hugger, especially at work, so he aimed his best glare at his former coworker, a little surprised when it worked.

Their conversation was a reminder of old times, not unwelcome. As Jane went off for his second reunion of the day, Cho couldn't help but smile.

The FBI was about to get a whole lot more amusing.

Fischer

"Welcome to my life," Lisbon said dryly.

Fischer looked at Lisbon as she sat in her guest chair and was struck with the sudden thought that this woman's life wasn't necessarily a good place to be. She'd looked at her file; Lisbon had had such a bright future early in her career, until Patrick Jane torpedoed it. That was not a road Fischer planned to take. Jane was interesting, and he could be charming when he wanted to be, but he wasn't worth her career. She wasn't the kind of woman who'd throw everything away for a man.

Why had Lisbon done it? Fischer wasn't even sure they were lovers; it was hard to tell, what with Jane's manic behavior and Lisbon's determined calm. Abbott was convinced, but Fischer knew things weren't always what they seemed. Especially when Jane was involved.

"Was it worth it?" she asked.

Lisbon looked confused. "What?"

"You lost everything helping Jane. Was it worth it?"

Lisbon looked surprised for a moment; then her expression went back to that placid mask that reminded Fischer of medieval paintings of female martyrs. "I didn't lose everything because of Jane. The CBI was shut down because of the Blake Association, not him. To tell you the truth, we'd found so many Red John disciples over the years that it was kind of a relief to have the whole story. I was disappointed not to be able to go back when they started up again, but I understood the governor wanting a fresh start. And I'll always be proud of the work we did there. We stopped a serial killer nobody else could catch. We put hundreds of bad guys away and got justice for the victims and their families."

That wasn't the whole story, and they both knew it. No law enforcement agency in California had wanted anything to do with Teresa Lisbon after Patrick Jane was through. She'd ended up in exile, tucked away in a sleepy town fading into obscurity. Much like Jane had been trying to do, Fischer realized. "True. But you were on the fast track before he came along. You could have ended up as director if you'd played your cards right."

"Not with the Blake Association in place," Lisbon argued. Then she smiled a little. "I wouldn't go back and do anything differently, Agent Fischer. And I don't regret signing on with Jane. He is...a surprisingly good friend, you know. And I never have to explain anything to him."

Fischer bet that was true. She'd never seen a man as attentive to a woman as Jane was to Lisbon. He seemed to love just looking at her, and when he came up with an idea he took obvious pleasure in presenting it to her. Like a cat proudly depositing a still-living mouse on its sleeping owner's chest, if Lisbon's reaction was anything to go by.

"Of course," Lisbon continued thoughtfully, "what you're really asking me is if he's going to trash your promotion prospects."

"I suppose I am," Fischer agreed.

A small, secretive smile tugged at Lisbon's mouth. "All I can say is, that depends."

"On what?"

"On whether he decides you're working with him or against him."

Lisbon

She stared around the cold, impersonal room with distaste. At least the CBI offices had a kind of shabby charm, some warmth to the decor. This room was all business. She couldn't imagine Jane in it without a bucket of paint in one hand and fabric swatches in the other. The thought made her smile.

But then she was nervous again, because she was finally going to see him after two long years. Would he look the same? Would he smile at her in that special way that made her toes curl? Would he grin and tease her, or say something beautiful like he'd written? The thought of Jane being serious and poetic made her stomach fill with butterflies, but it also made her anxious. What on earth could she say to the man whose letters she'd read and re-read, treasuring and analyzing his words?

But on the other hand, if the Jane who walked through that door was his old wise ass self, would she be able to pretend that the man who'd touched her heart with his beautiful letters didn't exist?

When his cheerful "hey" reached her ears, all her anxiety fled, the joy bubbling up inside her leaving no room for anything else. The beard notwithstanding, he was the same Jane, smiling at her and hugging her and telling her he'd missed her. Only he kept beaming at her even after they sat down. She was almost afraid to look at him for fear she'd start grinning like a fool. And she'd be damned if she acted like a love struck idiot in front of Abbott.

She'd forgotten how much she hated witnessing one of Jane's plans going off the rails. She hated it almost as much as being taken for granted, and she couldn't help snapping at him. But he knew she wouldn't walk out on him, placating her with an offhand, "We'll talk."

She could only look on in dismay as he turned down the FBI's offer in favor of a prison sentence. Surely he didn't think he could get a second jury to let him off the hook? And dammit, didn't he realize she'd be the prosecution's star witness, however unwilling? All because he'd put his faith in some scribbling on a napkin. And where the hell had this Kim person come from? If this was another Lorelei situation, she was going to kill him with her bare hands.

"Don't worry, Lisbon; it's all under control," he said.

Yeah, right.

At least in prison she could write him back.

Jane

The building was bland and modern, the epitome of all he disliked. He would go inside only because Lisbon was supposedly waiting for him in there. He wouldn't care about the building once he was with her again. Two years in exile had taught him that geographical location was unimportant; it was people who mattered.

Seeing Cho again drove the point home. He was surprised at how glad he was to see a familiar face, even though Cho seemed less than thrilled to see him. He couldn't help but share Cho's misgivings about his future with the FBI, though he brushed them off, eager to see Lisbon. It would all be okay once he was back with Lisbon. It was his new mantra.

"Hey," was all that would come out of his mouth at first. But that was okay because she was smiling, getting to her feet. She didn't seem to want to hug, so he restrained himself until she thanked him for the letters. That was too much—did she not realize he'd written those for his own sanity? Sure, he'd wanted to reassure her he was okay, remembering how his stint in Vegas had affected her. But it had been far from unselfish. Only his good hearted Lisbon would think him capable of such kindness. He had to hug her, tell her that he'd missed her.

He was grinning like an idiot, but he couldn't stop himself. He was back where he belonged. Even Abbott's dickish insistence that the napkin was just a napkin was only a minor setback. It cost a minor fortune to try and incarcerate someone; the FBI hadn't gone to all the trouble of finding him just for that. They'd change their tune soon enough.

Then he'd work on convincing Lisbon to come be his partner again. It wouldn't be hard; it was what she wanted to do, after all.

And he would make it worth her while.