A Wanted Man
She found Jane feeding pigeons on a park bench. He was so casual he was practically serene, tossing seeds out for the birds. The California sun was hot but there was a soft breeze in the air and Lisbon found the entire situation surreal. They were gearing up for what was undoubtedly the showdown with the killer they had hunted for nearly a decade, but Jane gave no indication of the stress they were under. His calm demeanor only made her more nervous. Lisbon pressed her damp palms against her thighs as she sat next to him.
"You're a wanted man." She arched an eyebrow and looked over at him.
"I like to think so."
He smirked and for a fraction of a second everything felt normal. While she had no idea what would happen, or what Jane had planned, all she could do was protect him-if not from Red John, then she could protect him from Special Agent Abbot and his FBI drones.
He told her about Bertram's call all the while remaining calmly evasive. She was too nervous and terrified to put up much of a fight when he refused to divulge details. When his phone finally rang, her nervousness turned to dread. Still, he refused let her in on the scheme. He expected her to stand aside while he walked right into whatever trap Bertram was laying.
"You knew this day was coming. It's here." Jane's voice was so low, firm but smooth. He wouldn't let her come along but he wanted her gun. If it was the only way to protect him, she'd do it. With a cautious look over her shoulder, Lisbon handed him her sidearm. Heat rose to her cheeks, adrenaline taking over as she watched him run off into the park.
Refusing to allow herself to fall apart, she prayed the next time she saw him, he wouldn't be zipped up in a body bag.
xXxXx
She'd been a police chief in Washington for a month when the first letter arrived, a postmark stamped across the top from some town in Iowa she didn't recognize. Lisbon tore into the envelope only to find a second envelope. Her heart in her throat, she ripped it open, careful of the neatly folded letter.
She glanced out to the front office and spotted Henry bent over the copier with a large ink cartridge in his hand and a bewildered expression on his face. Unfolding the letter, her breath caught at the first words, at the handwriting. She hadn't realized she missed his horrible scrawl until that very moment...
Dear Lisbon,
I have so much to tell you-
In the front office, Henry slammed the printer's compartments closed with a heavy push and a few select curse words. She couldn't read the letter at her desk, or in this office. She needed fresh air. Quickly, she refolded the letter and shoved it back in the envelopes, sure to take all incriminating evidence.
"Henry?" she called out. "I'm going to lunch. Forward any calls to Dale."
Two weeks later, when the fourth letter showed up, Lisbon bought a pretty box to keep them in. It was a decorative addition to the bookcase in her living room, its contents another secret between her and Jane.
Six months after the first letter, a sea shell arrived. Holding it to her ear, she imagined the look on Jane's face when he found it, when he decided it belonged with her.
The box of letters she kept at home, but the sea shell she kept on her desk.
xXxXx
She was suffocating, her head spinning and her lungs on fire. She'd been outside her own body as she called Marcus and accepted his marriage proposal. A distant part of her knew she was making a mistake, knew that she was running into the arms of a man she didn't love as much as she should. She would always feel guilty for not loving Marcus as he loved her, but she couldn't stick around playing the part of Patrick Jane's trusty sidekick. Marcus was reliable, and he was offering her a life she wanted but thought she could never have. He was offering to be her family.
Why was she still looking over her shoulder, hoping Jane would stop her?
She boarded the plane and took her seat, her cheeks hot and her head throbbing from all the crying. The flight to D.C. was nearly two and a half hours, plenty of time to be alone with her racing thoughts. Powering down her phone, a commotion caught her attention along the aisle.
"There you are." Jane's voice was so soft it was nearly a whisper. A pin prick of relief took bloom in her chest.
"I don't want to see you, go away." She was a stubborn child doing her best to not look at him. It was only when she heard the vulnerability in his tone that she finally turned her head.
He was open and sincere-she couldn't remember ever seeing him so sincere. Something within her cracked. This wasn't part of the con. And then he said the words she had longed for him to say. The pounding in her head grew.
"It's too late, Jane. It's too late." She expected him to shut down and retreat back into himself, but he continued to surprise her, telling her she deserved to hear the words. His declarations only grew louder as the air marshal marched him out of the cabin.
Once again, Lisbon felt like she was suffocating, but this time it was different. She was engaged to another man, the plane was fifteen minutes away from take-off… But Patrick Jane loved her. She let out a shuddering sigh.
"Excuse me." Lisbon, unbuckling her seat belt in one quick move, climbed over the woman to her right who gave her a knowing wink and an extra tissue.
Tugging her bag down from the overhead compartment, she held her shoulders straight as she made her way out of the plane, several passengers looking at her strangely. Watching Lisbon approach, the flight attendant frowned, no doubt perplexed by what had just transpired.
"Excuse me," Lisbon cleared her throat and used her strongest law official voice. "I'm Special Agent Teresa Lisbon with the FBI, and I need to speak to the air marshal who just escorted my partner from the plane." The flight attendant huffed as she made a call.
As Lisbon walked across the tarmac, ushered by a somewhat disgruntled TSA agent, she took in a deep breath. Her lungs no longer felt like they were on fire and the pounding in her head was receding to a dull thud. With a flash of her badge, another TSA agent ushered her to a waiting room adjacent to Jane. She made a few phone calls, including a difficult and heated call to Marcus that went as well as she expected. It was hours before she could speak with Jane, and only after Abbott put in a call did TSA finally relent.
Slipping into the chair across from him, her heart skipped when he looked up at her. She watched as surprise and relief flickered through his eyes. The openness she had seen in his face when he told her he loved her remained, and once again, her breath caught in her throat.
She couldn't look away.
xXxXx
He was feeding pigeons on a park bench when she sat next to him. Leaning in, she tucked her hand over his knee. The Texas sun was high in the sky, a cool breeze settling through the trees.
"You know, you're a wanted man." Her voice was low but playful and he gave her a wink before pulling her even closer and dropping a kiss on her temple.
"I like to think so."
FIN.
I've had the last snippet rolling around in my head for a few weeks. I like to think Jane still feeds the pigeons every once in a while, that he learned to live in the present while still recognizing his past. And I also find Lisbon more difficult to write than Jane, so I thought it might be an interesting exercise to put this in her POV. Hopefully, it worked a little.