A/N: Thank you so much for all your wonderful reviews for the first chapter. I am absolutely gobsmacked so many of you are enjoying this walk on the wild side (as one of my lovely reviewers so eloquently put it!) with these characters.
Chapter 2 - Aftermath
The following day a case had taken Lisbon and her team out of Sacramento. Jane was not required - whether on Lisbon's say so or Bertram's he wasn't entirely sure which - and spent the day in his attic, compiling name after name in his notebook, barely taking a break even for a cup of tea.
An arduous task of memory recollection, but still an easier one than pondering on the conversation of the night before. Lisbon and he hadn't spoken since; contact maintained only via a couple of scant text messages.
By evening he'd come down to a sparse bullpen to make his favourite brew. He glanced inside Lisbon's darkened office as Ron walked past. "Hey, Lisbon not back yet?"
The other man shook his head. "They're held up, I heard."
"Oh, okay, thanks."
They weren't back the following day either, the case obviously more complex than initially figured. He waited on a call to ask for his help but none came. He focused on his list again and ignored the gnawing pain in his gut her continuing absence caused.
By night time he came down from his perch again, noticed Van Pelt working feverishly at her desk. "Hey, you're back then, I see. How'd it go?" he asked pleasantly with a well-practiced easygoing smile.
"Mostly fine in the end," she shrugged, her posture speaking of recent upset. "The boss is cleared for active duty from the day after tomorrow. She just has to rest up tomorrow in case the wound opens up again. She'll be in her office, though, you know what she's like, even if she has to stay out of the field." She laughed, punching some keys quickly as she looked at the screen in front of her, "I'd stay clear until she has her morning coffee, you know how she hates being sidelined."
He blinked rapidly. He'd barely heard anything after Van Pelt mentioned she'd been wounded. "Cleared? How do you mean?" His chest tightened as he fought to keep the panic from his voice.
The redhead looked up and frowned at him. "She said she'd called you. She didn't?"
He barked out a reply. "Would I be asking if she had? What happened, Van Pelt?"
Alarmed at his tone she drew her head back sharply then relaxed her shoulders a second later. Softly, "She's okay, Jane. It wasn't that big a knife and she managed to break free before-"
"She was stabbed?!"
"Uh...yeah. But she'll be okay. Damn, maybe I should have called you after it happened but when she said she'd talk to you herself about it-"
"Yes, you damn well should have," he interrupted. "Where is she now? Home?"
Timidly, "Yeah, presume so."
Lisbon felt herself fall into a soothing narcotic haze as she lay on her couch in a black tank top and leggings, a bag of potato chips balanced on her belly. Her left arm was propped up on a cushion as she watched a baseball game, a thin bandage around her bare upper arm.
The sound of relentless banging on her front door startled her wide awake again. "Oh, god," she muttered, glancing at her cell phone guiltily that she'd switched off thirty minutes prior.
"Lisbon!" Jane's voice rang through the wood, shrill and persistent.
"Coming!" she shouted, getting to her feet with a grimace.
When she opened the front door he was looking at her with wild eyes as they ran fleetingly over her entire body. "You were stabbed," he said accusingly, his eyes lingering finally on the bandage on her arm.
"Yeah," she said with a one shoulder shrug. "It's nothing, Jane." She moved to allow him to enter and closed the door behind him.
Once inside he started up again. "So then why not tell me? You thought you'd punish me instead by keeping it from me? Give me a little of my own medicine because I occasionally keep some stuff from you?"
"What? No! What are you talking about? We're not in high school. You really think I'm that petty? But while we're on the subject – occasionally, seriously?" She snorted, "Think you better look up that definition in the dictionary."
He ignored her jibe and continued, "So then why didn't you call me?"
She exhaled. "What was the point? It's nothing-"
He pointed at her arm. "Don't keep telling me it's nothing, Lisbon. Besides, you told Grace you'd tell me."
"Yeah, tomorrow. You were going to find out in the morning, what's the big deal? And it is nothing, Jane. It's hardly even a graze. You know what these doctors are like, and Van Pelt's not much better with all her mollycoddling. I'm fine."
He stared into her eyes. "You absolutely sure?" he said gently, his expression softening with his tone.
She nodded, caught off guard with the worry in his voice and how his eyes seemed to bore into her soul for the truth. Her cheeks flushed and she responded quietly, "Yes, I promise."
"You still should have called," he said again with some petulance after a second.
She smiled briefly. "All right. I'm sorry."
He breathed out and nodded. "How'd it happen?"
She went back to the couch and drew her feet up under her. "I got caught out. Didn't see the knife until it was too late. My own fault, really."
"Well, you didn't exactly stab yourself, did you," he remarked with a gentle smile.
She laughed softly. "Still, should have seen it. I've been trained better than that for some scumbag to get the jump on me like he did."
He sat down beside her. Worried, "Your mind was elsewhere," he stated quietly. "You were preoccupied because of the words we had the other night."
"No," she replied. All too quickly. She licked her lips. "Not everything is about you, Jane," she continued.
"This was, though, wasn't it?" he said, sure of himself.
She laid her head back on the couch. Tiredly, "I dunno anymore. But you can't say we're in a good place with each other currently, can you?"
He sighed and shook his head. "I'm-"
"Please don't say you're sorry, Jane. This could have happened anytime, preoccupied or not. It's not your fault I worry about you - it's not like you ask me to or even want me to like you said the other night. Just please don't make me deal with your guilt tonight about this, I'm exhausted." She rubbed her forehead as she closed her eyes. Then she got off the couch quickly with a deep sigh. "Thanks for stopping by. I'm going to bed. Let yourself out and I'll see you at work tomorrow."
She turned off the television and mounted the stairs alone.
A week later they had eased back into their normal work life, each one pretending everything was as it always had been pre Lorelei Martins entering their lives and departing it.
Jane was his usual self, uncontrollable and unashamed as he acted like a precocious schoolboy while Lisbon portrayed her role perfectly of ineffective school ma'am, issuing punishments and speeches she knew would never kerb her worst pupil's behaviour.
They didn't refer back to their contretemps in the wake of Red John's girl's demise as they went about their days. Jane continued to guard his recently acquired notebook with his life as Lisbon took as little notice of his prolonged scribbling in it as she could manage.
Two weeks later she took a sick day. An anomaly that had him puzzled. He sent a text, wishing her a speedy recovery. She responded he'd better not make trouble for Cho until she returned. He smiled as he lay on his couch, telling himself everything was fine and that normal service had been resumed and their rough patch was over. She was back the next day, looking no worse for wear and Jane teased her about playing hooky for most of it. She'd laughed it off. He was more convinced than ever their friendship was back on track.
Then a week later she called her team into her office first thing one morning. He'd rolled his eyes, expecting a speech on recycling that she occasionally rolled out. He had ignored her requests for attendance after the first two, even when she got that 'I'm the boss and you have to listen to this because I had to listen to this' look on her face. But on this occasion, as she shuffled her feet and couldn't quite catch his eyes, he realised this speech was actually something of import.
She sat behind her desk and straightened the stapler and some pens as she gathered her thoughts. The team exchanged nervous glances, knowing this wasn't a good starting point.
She focused on Cho who was sitting in the chair opposite, Rigsby and Van Pelt behind him as Jane hung by the closed door, his back to it with his hands clasped behind his back.
Her tone dripped of professionalism only marred by a slight quiver that marked her true anxiety. "Okay. So...so I have some news." She paused and smiled, forced it to spread across her face. "It's good news, actually, so don't all look so worried," she added with a short chuckle. She licked her lips, shifted in her chair, tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.
When she touched her cross, Jane frowned in response as his heart rate picked up, his relaxed posture fractionally less so as he watched her body language become increasingly at odds with her words of composure and optimism.
"I'm leaving the CBI," she announced finally with a curt nod.
A gasp from Van Pelt and a look of shock from Rigsby ensued.
"It's been amazing working with you all and you are truly the best team I've ever had the privilege to lead. Cho, you'll be taking over when I leave. For now, anyway, and I've recommended you for the position on a permanent basis-"
"Where are you going?" Jane cut in, forcing her to look directly at him. So that was what the sick day was all about, she must have been to some kind of interview. Or, if not that, then a day where she had needed to consider her options without distractions. Or maybe she was just sick and...
She blinked as they locked eyes. Evenly, "I've been offered work in the Private Sector."
He studied her for any sign she was lying. Rattled he could find none, "Who with?" he prodded.
"Why, what does that matter?"
He took a step towards her. "It didn't but it does now if you don't want to say. Sounds like you're unsure if this is the right move for your career."
Briskly, "Fine. It's with Ray Haffner. He's opening up his own Security Firm and has asked me to join him." She took a deep breath as she stared at her consultant, fixed him with a steely gaze. "And no, I'm not unsure in any way. Not at all. It's time for a change. Might even be long overdue. It's a great package, Jane. I'd be a fool to turn it down."
"Hm. Better money, benefits, I'm assuming?"
"Yes."
"With Haffner?"
Tightly, "Yes."
He huffed but said nothing more. Then, "Congratulations, then, I guess," he replied, little warmth in his tone.
With that, he turned around and let himself out.
The cheetah dashed across the screen, the camera zooming in as he approached the lone wildebeest drinking lazily from a Kenyan watering hole. Jane's expression remained unchanged as the predator struck his prey at lightning speed, its hind legs buckling quickly under the cheetah's firm grip.
"Jane!" Lisbon's voice suddenly came roaring through the door of his motel room. He jerked immediately at the sound of her all too familiar infuriated greeting as he lay on the bed, moaned when he heard her pound her fists against the wood before he had time to get to his feet.
"Open the damn door!" she yelled.
He rolled his eyes and muttered something about patience being a virtue as he took the three steps required in his sock clad feet, not attempting to button up his vest before he arrived at the door. He was met with Lisbon, fierce green eyes staring at him and instantly reminding him of the wild creature he'd just watched on television as she regarded him with the same look of murderous intent.
Well, perhaps not quite the same. He was pretty certain the aforementioned hunting leopard hadn't gone out for the evening and imbued more than a few shots of tequila before he went on his deadly hunt.
His lips curled into a smile as he watched her teeter slightly in three-inch black heels against his doorframe before righting herself again. She wore a knee length emerald green silk shirt dress with a thin black belt that circled her tiny waist. The first three buttons were undone, the usual modesty of hiding her impressive décolletage taking a rare but very welcome night off. Her cheeks bore a pretty rosy glow, their colouring assisted by both alcohol and fury, he determined.
He stepped backwards to allow her to enter, quirking an eyebrow. "Your leaving party over already? That boring, was it? Or did Rigsby perform his Tina Turner and, therefore, proceed to empty O'Malley's early?" he asked her smoothly.
She slammed the door behind her with her right hand.
"I do have a security deposit here, you know," he added politely. "Mind the wood, please."
She jabbed him in the chest with her index finger and began to shout, "You lousy-"
"Okay, can we take the volume down a notch, please," he interrupted with a long roll of his eyes. "Not a big place, Lisbon, no need to yell." He quickly sidestepped her next jab and went to the sink in the small kitchenette attached. Calmly, "So, water...or perhaps tea? Perhaps some chamomile, hm?" He added quietly out of earshot, "Or perhaps some Diazepam, Valium, a few horse tranquillizers..."
Reflexes impeded, she narrowed her eyes at the space he'd just vacated as if he'd just disappeared into thin air.
A bottle of water was pressed into her hand a moment later. "Drink this," he ordered. "You'll thank me in the morning," he continued before he returned to the tea kettle.
As her head began to swim she sat down on the edge of the bed, opening the bottle and taking a large gulp as she watched him make tea like she had a hundred times before as her dizziness wore off.
"I won't see you in the morning to thank you," she grumbled taking another long sip. "Will I?" she added, louder, victory in her tone. "With all the vacation days I'm owed today was the last day I'll ever have to see you in my entire life."
He stopped his preparation for a split second at her words before resuming again silently.
She added, unabashed, "Not that I've seen much of you lately, anyway. You've sulked in your damn attic or god knows where for most of the past fortnight since I told you I was leaving. Going with anyone else but me to crime scenes on the rare occasions you actually took part in solving cases lately."
He said nothing as he dipped his teabag then heard two small thuds in the vicinity of his bed. He poked his head out of his kitchenette to see her shoes lying on his carpet as she massaged the sole of one foot. Her face was screwed up in irritation as she kneaded the ball of her foot before she looked at her fingers and frowned. She smeared the small amount of blood she'd found from tip to tip, flummoxed.
"New shoes, huh?" he said, putting his cup down and walking into his bathroom.
A second later he was back, a box of band-aids in his hand along with a tube of antiseptic. He knelt down in front of her and she gasped as he took hold of her foot quickly and firmly. He glanced up at her with a soft smile before he nodded to the cut on her heel. "You never hear of breaking shoes in, woman?" he said as he opened the antiseptic tube.
He nodded to a box of tissues on his nightstand. "Clean your hands before you stain my bedspread."
She smiled as she frowned, blotting the drops of blood from her fingertips. "I thought I was the bossy one," she said.
He smiled up at her. "You are. But I'm not nearly as terrified of you when you're not quite compos mentis. Think I could dodge a punch from you in your current condition. Speaking of which, just how much tequila did you have tonight? Or was it that much can't you remember?"
"Just a couple," she maintained, swallowing a hiccup as she drank from the water bottle.
He laughed softly. "An even worse liar when you're drunk."
"I'm not drunk!"
"Uh-oh. Okay, this is going to sting a bit. Three, two..." He dabbed the wound and looked at her, expecting a moan of discomfort. She pursed her lips but that was all.
"Well, that was a disappointing reaction," he admitted with a small smile in her direction.
"We're not all cowards where a bit of pain is concerned," she retaliated.
"And that's something to be proud of? Why?" he argued, shaking his head. Then he surprised her, raising her ankle further gently and tilting his head at a ninety-degree angle. In one long breath, he blew on the spot he'd just applied the ointment.
Her breath caught in her throat immediately at the hot intimate sensation against her heel, her toes wiggling instinctively as they tingled. She opened her mouth but nothing came out - neither a pithy remark nor a moan of blissful content. She was grateful for the latter and cross with herself for the former that he'd rendered her speechless so easily.
When she noticed him smiling again as he blew on the cut once more, she looked away and crossed her arms across her chest, trying to still the frantic beat of her heart and the shiver that was trying to escape her spine.
"I'm mad at you," she pouted, at last, drawing a deep breath.
He placed a plaster carefully on her right heel. "You don't say. I'd never have guessed that from your entrance here this evening. You're a marvellous actress, I take it all back."
He set her right foot down and lifted her left one. "That one's fine," she said, pulling it from his grasp, attempting to gain back the control she'd just lost.
His fingers lingered on it, pulling it back into his hand forcibly. "I'll be done in a minute. Plenty of time for you still to be mad at me when I finish attending to this one. What on earth made you wear those death traps of shoes, anyway?"
As he gave her left foot the same attention as her right foot she relaxed more and was staring at his curls as she looked down at him, somewhat doe-eyed (or perhaps it was more cross-eyed), by the time he'd finished.
He stood up and coloured as her gaze followed him. "So, tea, now-" he started.
"Why didn't you come tonight?" she interjected. "Earlier in the office when the team were talking about taking me out to O'Malley's to celebrate my last day - you said you would."
"The truth? I didn't want to be bothered by the interrogation I'd have received from them if I'd said I never intended to go."
She huffed. "Wow. Thanks. Good to know where I stand in your list of priorities." She nodded to the television. "Obviously right below a night in watching defensive animals get torn apart."
He shrugged, attempted a weak joke with a small smile, "Busman's holiday considering what we do for a living, I know."
When he saw her glare continue he added a snarky comment of his own, "Sorry, what I do for a living now, I suppose I should say. You're on to greener pastures without all that bloody mess with Haffner now, aren't you?"
She retorted, "Careful, Jane, you almost sounded jealous there for a minute. Your mask's slipping."
They stared at each other defiantly for a long second. Then he said, "Are you really upset with me because I didn't come to your leaving party? Come on, Lisbon, don't be so childish. You didn't even want one yourself. As you would put it: 'you hate that kind of crap'."
"It doesn't matter what it was, Jane. It was the last time we all could have celebrated being a team together. And you're calling me childish, seriously?! I haven't been the one avoiding you for the past fortnight! Okay, so you didn't want to come tonight but you could have suggested something else for us to mark the occasion!"
He bit on the inside of his cheek and shrugged, saying nothing. Instead, he turned around and brought two cups of tea back a few minutes later, relieved the water bottle he'd handed her was now empty and that she appeared to be sobering up. Although the fact she was comfortably sitting on his bed with her feet up and her back to the headboard as she absently watched the wildlife programme he'd been viewing spoke of an ease in his domestic surroundings that a truly clear-headed Teresa Lisbon would not normally allow.
He winced inwardly, the scene before him too familiar to one he'd witnessed and been a part of in Vegas. He picked up the remote control and turned the television off, setting a cup of tea on the nightstand beside her as he sat on the edge of the bed with one of his own.
He did his best not to admire how nicely she filled out her simple dress, tried not to imagine his fingers opening every button and exploring what lay beneath. He'd had to exercise all his self-control into not openly admiring her shapely calves when he'd cleaned up the cuts on her heels. Still, he could pretty much map out every freckle and contour blindfolded.
She was watching him with a line between her eyes when he drew his gaze back to her after taking a long sip of tea. "You wanted to talk, obviously," he said, nodding to the remote control. "If you're going to shout at me some more we might as well have peace and quiet before you start up again."
"Maybe I don't want to shout at you anymore," she said simply, her eyes never leaving his. She shifted on the bed as she made herself cosier.
"Okay," he replied, licking his lips and absently wondering if she'd purposefully moved just so he'd catch a glimpse of milky thigh in the process. He turned his attention away from those thoughts and asked breezily, "So? You have a nice evening?"
She shrugged. "It was all right, I guess."
He nodded. "Got lots of compliments on your fine work and the required clichéd speech from Bertram he normally rolls out for such an occasion, did you?"
She smiled, "Yeah, something like that. He could barely contain his glee."
"I don't know about that. He's probably wondering who else he's going to find willing to put up with me."
Her expression softened. "You'll be okay, Jane. Cho and the others-"
"Yeah, of course," he interrupted, a short snap to the words.
She frowned, "Never mind me being mad at you, are you mad at me too?"
He relaxed his expression. Evenly, "Why? Do I seem mad?"
"I don't know. Maybe. Like I said, you've pretty much ignored me since I told you I was leaving."
He placed his cup on the ground beside him. "Hm," he said, "been busy with my list and so have you getting your exit process in place. That's all it is, Lisbon."
Unconvinced, "You are mad, aren't you?"
He puffed out a long breath and turned his head to face her. "Well, since we're on the subject you could have told me you were leaving-"
"I did-"
"No," he interrupted sharply. "You told the team. You told all of us together."
"So what?"
"It never occurred to you that I'd view that as strange? You don't see that you and I share..."
She pounced on his words quickly. "You and I share what, Jane? Huh, what, exactly? We spend our lives doing our best not to share."
"Well, you disregarded that practice weeks ago, didn't you? And now look where we've ended up."
"So, you're saying it's my fault-"
He got off the bed quickly. "I'm not saying anything. Look...doesn't matter. You-you were right. It was childish of me to be annoyed with you for not telling me separately."
He ran a hand through his hair. "Sorry. This has all...this has all thrown me for a loop, I guess. First...then you leaving...it's a lot of change. And I'm not good at change."
She blinked quickly. "You know I think that's the most honest you've ever been with me."
He shook his head. Exasperated, "You make it sound like I've lied to you every single day we've known each other, Lisbon."
She shrugged. "How would I know, Jane? How do I know when you tell me the truth and when you lie? You lie so easily I can never be sure."
Aggravated, "Okay, you want the truth from me? I'm not happy with you leaving the CBI. I've tried to be...hell, I should be, I know that...but...but I'm not. So, there it is. Happy now?"
"Gee, I think I figured that out for myself with how you've been acting. Why are you torn, though? Not happy because you might actually miss me or happy because you think it's safer for me to be out of Red John's crosshairs? Is that why you haven't said anything?"
"The two aren't mutually exclusive." He took a step towards the bed, his eyes dark. "I should want you to be as far away from me as possible. I should want that for you." He swallowed, "But I don't. I'm selfish and I can't. But neither can I ask you to stay if that's what you came to hear tonight. I won't ask that of you, Lisbon."
"Jane-"
He shook his head. "No. You're doing the right thing. Even if you're going to be bored out of your mind with Haffner. Better that than dead."
"You don't know that's going to happen!"
"That you'll be bored?" he replied wryly. "Call it an educated guess working with that buffoon on a daily basis."
"Now you really do sound like you're jealous."
"Oh? Are you sure that's not just wishful thinking on your part," he smirked.
She blushed, "Anyway, I wasn't talking about Haffner," she ventured. "Red John could have killed me a hundred times already, Jane. You don't know that's what his plan is for me!"
"Hm. Him asking for your head should have given you some indication as to his future intent, my dear."
She scrambled off the bed quickly to face him. "And what's happened since then? Huh? Nothing! He hasn't made any move to come after me-"
"That doesn't mean he won't in the future!" he snapped. "He's just biding his time...the longer he waits the more he knows I'll..." He clamped his mouth shut and breathed out, averting his eyes away from hers that were increasingly searching and inquisitive.
"What? The more you'll what, Jane?!"
All at once he turned and took hold of her shoulders roughly, "You know what, woman! Don't make me spell it out for you!"
"How the hell am I supposed to know what you're talking about?! I never know where the hell I stand with you, you jackass!"
He huffed loudly and, with a sudden outburst of frustration, propelled her backwards, nails biting into the silk of her dress. Her back hit the wall with a soft thud as they both breathed heavily. His eyes, startled by his abrupt actions as he so flagrantly lost his keenly guarded control, blinked wildly as they stared at each other. Fear and arousal hit them simultaneously as their bodies moulded together. His gaze, dark and menacing, went straight to her lips as he licked his own. His burgeoning hardness pressed against her stomach, penetrating the flimsy silk of her dress. He watched her pupils dilate, her entire being respond deliciously to his forming erection with a low grunt and a subtle gyration of her hips. He went to draw back and apologise for his outburst, his chest wedged so tightly against hers as they panted frantically. But she grabbed his opened vest before he could put distance between them. "The more you'll what?" she growled as she pulled him flush against her once more.
