Thank you to everyone who took the time to review, your words were very encouraging and made me all warm and fuzzy. In all seriousness, I'm glad you are enjoying. Just a couple of things, I have purposefully side stepped the whole wife and kid thing (for the time being) so for anyone who's wondering. It will figure in later in the story, but it's going to be a little different from the show (but not much). And alghough Patrick is a little more OOC than I would like, it just seems that given the time period, he would act a little different (but not much) ;) So, yeah, I'll shut up now and let you guys read.

Please review...good or bad, it still puts a big stupid, Jane-ish grin on my face.

Patrick Jane kissed Katie Langley's hand and gave her his most charming grin as he escorted her to the door. Missy Langley was an attractive woman in her mid thirties who had come to Jane to find out if her husband was cheating on her. Much to her dismay, Jane had confirmed her suspicions. She had come to him when one of her friends, a regular client and true believer, had referred her. In fact, most of Jane's clients were women. Usually, bored, rich housewives with nothing better to do. Jane was empathetic to their problems and had no reservations about handing out compliments. It was even a usual occurrence for the women to offer him other compensation beyond the regular monetary fee for his services. As a result, he had quickly earned a reputation as a letch. He didn't really mind all that much, but if the truth be known there was only a small handful of clients with whom he had gotten romantically involved, and an even smaller percentage of those were actually just sexual relationships.

Katie dabbed her eyes once more with her handkerchief and smiled back at him. "Thank you, so much Mr. Jane."

"Patrick." He said in almost a whisper.

She blushed like a school girl. "Patrick."

She giggled as he offered her his arm and escorted her outside to her waiting car. Her driver jumped out and hurried to help his employer into the Rolls Royce. As he closed her door, she rolled down the window. "Thank you." She waved as the car pulled out into traffic.

He treated her to one of his finest grins. "Always a pleasure, my dear." He brought two fingers to his lips and blew her a kiss dramatically. When she was out of sight, he sighed heavily and retrieved a cigarette out of his vest pocket. He blew the first puff out slowly and shook his head. It was not unknown to him what most people thought of his profession. When he had come to Sacramento only five years ago, the townspeople had nearly run him out of town screaming something about the devil and witchcraft. It had blown over quickly when Prohibition gave them something more important to think about. He had taken the opportunity to settle in to the city and by the time Prohibition had been repealed, he had become a staple of the community.

Still, there were the folks who accused him of being a fake, and of course they were right. Patrick's logic was that if people were willing to give him money to make them feel better, then he had no more to be ashamed of than the physicians who overcharge for their services. After all, he was simply looking out for the psychological welfare of his clients.

"Mr. Jane!" A small boy of twelve came barreling down the sidewalk nearly knocking over an elderly lady with her shopping bags. "Sorry, ma'am." He stopped briefly to tip his paper boy's hat, before hurrying to where Jane stood. "Mr. Jane!"

"What's up, Mouse?" Jane smiled at the kid, whose real name happened to be Robert Malloy.

"Something's happened downtown. Another explosion."

Jane raised an eyebrow. "Really."

Mouse shrugged. "The police just got there. Over on Maple." He pointed in the general direction.

Jane nodded silently, before reaching into his pocket and pulling out a coin. "Thanks kid." He pressed the money into Mouse's hand and nodded. "Don't spend it all in one place." Mouse grinned at him and took off down the street. Jane had met mouse three years earlier when the kid had tried to pick his pocket. He had taken pity on the boy and they even became friends. Now Mouse earned his keep by running errands for Jane including keeping him apprised of the goings on around the city.

Glancing at his pocket watch, Jane smiled to himself. He still had time before his next appointment. As he put his watch back in his vest pocket, his fingers brushed the cold piece of metal that rested there. He fingered the ring thoughtfully for a moment before shaking his head and turning back to the business at hand. He hurried into his shop, shrugged into his jacket and hid his blond curls under his suede fedora, then put a sign in the door that he was closed. After locking the door, he walked quickly in the direction of Maple Street.

Patrick Jane had an insatiable sweet tooth for crime scenes. While reading and figuring out bored housewives made him a good living, a good crime scene was the ultimate puzzle for him. Who did it? What was their motive? How did they pull it off? Was it business or personal? So many questions that needed to be answered. Jane had often wondered why he had gone into his chosen profession rather that joining the police force, but he knew the answer. Police work in itself was fascinating to him. It was all the rules and regulations that he had a hard time with.

When he reached Maple, there was still a throng of people gathered. Heathens, he thought, always anxious to see a tragedy. It occurred to him that human nature dictated that if something bad happened, people had to stop and look out of morbid curiosity. Still, he found himself a spot on the outer edge of the crowd and watched.

Lisbon watched anxiously as the remaining flames were doused. They had managed to keep the crowd back far enough for the work crews to get in and put out the fire. There wasn't a lot left of the small café. Most of it had gone up in flames, including any evidence and most of the victims' remains. She sighed loudly. This had been the third major bombing in that year, and they were never able to get any clues from the sites. It was frustrating as hell.

"Anything?" She asked Rigsby and Cho as they appeared out of what was left of the building.

"Nothing, Boss." Rigsby voiced as Cho simply shook his head.

"Damn." Lisbon said under her breath. "This is really getting to be…" She stopped as she noticed someone over her team's shoulder skulking around the crime scene. The man was walking slowly around the perimeter of the building, his head down. Suddenly, he stooped to pick something up out of the ashes. Goddamn reporters, Lisbon cursed to herself as she marched to where the man was standing up.

"What the hell do you think you are doing?" She chastised her hands on her hips.

The man lifted his head to reveal two bright blue eyes smiling at her. "Good day, Agent Lisbon."

"Jane!" She said through clenched teeth. "What are you doing here?"

He ignored her glare and continued examining the burnt out building. "Oh, you know me, I like a good puzzle."

She crossed her arms. "There is no puzzle without any pieces, Jane."

"Au contraire," He grinned at her at her sudden defensive posture. "Those are the best kinds."

To his surprise, Lisbon walked right up to him until they stood toe to toe, and looked him straight in the eye. "Look, Jane, if you don't get your ass out of my crime scene, I'll have you arrested for interfering with an investigation."

Jane faltered for only a second at the unexpected confrontation, but quickly recovered. "Okay, Agent Lisbon." He put his hands up in surrender. "I'm going." He had only taken a few steps before he turned back to her. "By the way, Lisbon, I found this," He tossed something at her.

She snatched it out of the air and fingered the object. It was a matchbook. "I don't smoke."

"It was on top of that pile of ash, but wasn't burned up in the fire." He shook his head. "Interesting." With that, he turned and walked away.

As he made his way back towards his shop, he thought about the still new Head Agent of the Special Crimes Unit and smiled. She was a spit-fire for sure and wasn't backing down from anybody. It mattered very little to Jane that she chose to dress like a man and have a man's career. If she could handle the job, then more power to her. As for himself, he was fairly certain that she could kick his ass, and while he had good fun in driving her crazy, he would never really want to piss her off. He did find it very interesting that her own team members, and everyone else for that matter, were apparently oblivious to what was obvious to Jane.

At the crime scene, Rigsby and Cho walked up to Lisbon only after Jane was well on his way. Nobody got under the boss's skin like Patrick Jane, and getting caught in the crossfire was never worth it. "What did he want this time?" Lisbon examined the match book turning it over in her hand. She opened it up and saw that it had a telephone number scrawled on the inside cover.

"Nothing, as usual." Lisbon spat, as she pocketed the matchbook. "Let's get back." She turned and stomped off.

Cho and Rigsby followed a few steps behind. "You think Jane found something?" Rigsby asked Cho quietly.

He shrugged. "It's possible. But you know the Boss, he hates Jane."

Rigsby nodded knowingly. It was a well known fact that Lisbon hated Jane, although they never really knew why. Jane had the uncanny ability of showing up unexpectedly at crime scenes and often was able to find evidence that anyone else would have simply overlooked. Cho had once said that he thought there was some sort unspoken competition between Jane and their boss; mostly coming from Lisbon.

Carlo Santos exited the black car and scanned his desolate surroundings. He hurried along the sidewalk that led to the three story house as fast as his stubby little legs would carry him. Even though the sun was not even at its peak sweat poured down his fat neck and when he reached the protection of the porch he pulled out a handkerchief and mopped his brow.

The front door opened and pretty, busty blond stuck her head out. She scowled at the sweaty little man and quickly stepped back inside. He could hear her talking to someone in the hallway. Not a minute later, Carlos backed up as a large burly man knocked the screen open with a bang, and held the door while a smaller, more genteel looking man moved walked out.

"Mr. Harmon," Carlos wiped his face again.

Daniel Harmon sat in a rocking chair and lit his cigar. He narrowed his eyes at Carlos. "Well?"

"The whole place was burned to the ground." He chuckled. "I gotta tell ya, Mr. Harmon, whoever is making your artillery these days is doing a bang up job." He laughed at his own quip, but was quickly silenced when Harmon leveled his gaze at him, clearly not amused. Nervously, he fumbled in his pocket and fished out a cigarette. He started patting down his pockets before giving a sheepish shrug. "I, uh, seem to have lost my matches. Do you mind?"

Harmon silently handed Santos his lighter and watched as he lit his cigarette. "What about the Special Crimes Unit?"

"I was hanging around there all morning, they don't got nothin'."

A wicked grin spread across his face. "Good. Now maybe when we offer the other businesses in the area our protective services, they'll accept."

Lisbon sighed loudly as she sunk down in her office chair, her feet on her desk. It had been almost lunchtime when they finally got back to the office. After sending out for sandwiches to shut Rigsby up about his wining stomach, she had spent most of the afternoon on finishing up some paperwork from their last case while Cho and Rigsby interviewed some potential witnesses to the explosion. By the time the last sheet of paper had her signature, it was past six. She glanced out the window and saw the brilliant orange and gold tones that signified dusk.

"Hey Boss," Cho stuck his head in the door.

"Did you forget something, Cho?" She knew it was petty, but she had a crazy pet peeve about knocking before coming in.

Cho sighed inwardly. "Sorry, Sir."

"Never mind," she shook her head. "What is it?"

"We're done with the last witness."

Lisbon sat up, rubbing the back of her neck. "Did you get anything?"

He shook his head. "Nope. Nobody saw anything. I also talked to the owner's wife, Mrs. James, she says she didn't know of any problems he was having."

"That's not surprising. Most men don't tell their wives about bad business."

Cho raised an eyebrow. "You think this was business related."

She stacked the finished papers on her desk. "Seems to be. If it was personal, it would have a more personal touch."

"So what now?" He watched her expectantly.

Lisbon glanced at the clock on her wall and suddenly felt very tired. She sighed audibly. "Let's call it a day. There's nothing else we can do that can't wait til tomorrow."

He nodded and started out the door then suddenly turned back to her. "Don't worry, Boss. We'll get these guys."

She simply nodded. "Who's worried?"

With a slight grin, Cho disappeared into the bullpen, closing the door behind him. Lisbon dropped her head into her hands. She wished she was as confident as she sounded. The truth was that they were no closer to finding the bombers now than they were six months ago. She slammed her hand on the desk and stood up quickly.

"I need a drink." She said to the empty office. With a quick straightening of her desk, she was soon on her way down the flight of stairs to the outside world.

SO, that's it for. For everyone who's worried, our darling red head, Grace, will be making an entrance soon. And it will be one hell of an entrance. So please be patient.

Please review....tell me what you like, what you don't, and definitly give me suggestions...i love collaboration.