A/N: Wow, thank you for all the reviews on the first chapter. Was lucky enough to find some time to write today, so here's what's happening 200 miles further north. Hope you like it :)

There was no colour left in the world. Just endless greyish nothingness, wherever he looked. Well, actually, he would see shades of black, blue, brown - not to mention blonde, if he turned around, but that was not really advisable while doing 80 miles per hour. He'd also see a great mess of papers, maps, photographs, at least three empty paper-cups and a suspiciously high number of empty chocolate-bar-wrappers. So for the added reason of keeping his inner peace, Cho kept his eyes fixed on the road, which was a darker shade of nothingness, but still seemingly endless. And a lot less messy.

They had passed the last car half an hour ago.
It had been a silver-grey mini-van.

Fitting, Cho had thought with slight amusement.

Behind him, Jane shuffled around restlessly. Cho heard the startled rustling of paper. Then a protesting crunching sound, as something was stuffed somewhere it clearly didn't want to be. Apparently Jane was done scanning reports and maps and was now busying himself with spreading the printouts of crime-scene photographs across the spacious back-seat of the SUV.

Cho added "red" to the list of colours he would see if he turned around now.

"This is no good", Jane mumbled. Cho had stopped listening to the constant stream of conversation from the back-seat 107 miles ago, but now tuned back in, sensing that the last four words were actually related to the case.

"What isn't?"

"The photos. Something's not right, something's missing. Cho, do we have any showing the whole scene? And the surrounding area?"

"Everything we've got is in the back-seat with you", Cho said. Jane huffed, then there was another shuffling sound, clearly the result of Jane leaning down to check if something had fallen off the seat. Then the sound of hands sliding searchingly over fabric. Then another frustrated huff.

"He should have thought about providing some", Jane said, a clearly audible frown in his tone. After three more sentences, all containing the name Marcus Pike, Cho zoned out of the conversation again, before he could feel emotionally compromised by the topic. Why did people always assume he wanted to know about their unsuccessful and clumsy attempts at romance? Or their existent or non-existent love-lives?

Though he had to admit that in this case, he was at least a little intrigued how it would play out in the end. Not to mention more than a little worried. Lisbon was, after all, his friend. And so - even though it was a frightening thought - was Jane. But the passive annoyance at the latter's current obsession with the subject outweighed the worry right now.

"You are not really listening to me, are you?" Jane suddenly said and Cho cast a quick glance in the mirror to see him straighten up in mild bewilderment.

"No."

"I might have said something important", Jane pointed out indignantly.

"You didn't."

"How can you tell if you weren't listening?"

"Experience."

"Experience?"

Cho gave him a look in the mirror. Then explained.

"Rigsby."

Jane made an irritated noise. "You are seriously comparing me to Rigsby?"

Cho gave the question some serious thought, then said:

"Yes."

Jane leaned forward, hands gripping the head-rest of the passenger seat.

"First you don't listen to me and then you compare me to Rigsby. What have I ever done to you, my dear friend, to deserve such harsh treatment?"

Now Cho did turn his head to look at him. "You really want me to answer that?"

Jane rolled his eyes and let himself drop back into the seat with a defeated sigh. Cho gave the tiniest of amused snorts, eyes returning to the road.

"This really feels like old times", he said.

"What, you insulting me?" Jane mumbled from somewhere behind him. "Yes, I do have very fond memories of that", he added with sarcasm.

"So do I", Cho agreed.

Jane leaned forward again, ignoring the last remark. "So tell me, in what way am I even remotely comparable to Rigsby? What striking similarities do we possess? Did he ever solve a case from the back-seat of a car?"

"No. But neither have you so far", Cho pointed out, then added: "But I had to listen to him babbling on like a jealous, love-sick teenager for hours every time Van Pelt looked at anything even remotely male."

"I am not jealous. How can you think that? Grace is a dear friend and if you recall, I played an important part in their wedding, so I repeat my question: How do I compare to Rigsby?", Jane asked, voice rising with something that sounded close to righteous anger.

Cho kept his eyes on the road.

"So, you weren't moaning and bitching about Lisbon's boyfriend for the last hour and a half?"

"Ha! How could you tell if you weren't listening?"

Cho didn't answer, just gave another snort, this time deliberately loud enough for Jane to notice. He heard Jane lean back in his seat again, contemplating something. Then, in a suddenly light and conversational tone he heard him say:

"So what do you think of him, then?"

Cho flashed him a serious glance in the mirror.

"I am not discussing Lisbon's love life with you, Jane."

"I am not asking you to, Cho" Jane replied, drawing out the words, then added with an innocent smile that was actually audible: "I just want to know your opinion on a fellow agent who somehow seems to have rather mysteriously joined our team."

"Nothing mysterious about it", Cho said, adding in his head.

Nothing permanent either.

"Ha!"

Jane's sudden outcry made Cho grip the steering-wheel a little tighter. It was, Jane thought, noticing the tension in the other man's muscles, Cho's equivalent of a flinch. He also thought, he was lucky Cho was driving, anyone else had probably steered them into the next ditch. Then again, if anyone else was driving they probably wouldn't have had this conversation.

Jane's mind snapped back to the thought that had preceded his outburst. Slowly he moved his body to the edge of the seat again, leaning forward, until his face was close to the back of Cho's head. Then he whispered.

"There is something you are not telling me, Special Agent Cho, isn't there?"

Cho, seemingly unfazed by his close proximity, just shrugged.

"That surprises you? There are a lot of things I am not telling you, Jane."

"Deniability?"

"No. Self-preservation."

"Ouch."

Jane beat his hand against his chest. "Once again, I am hurt, my friend."

He watched Cho tilting his head, as if contemplating this, then shaking it.

"No, you are not. You are just nosy."

Jane laughed. Leave it to Cho to be blunt. And precise. He loved conversations like that. He had missed them. Lisbon hadn't been a particularly good sport these past few weeks when it came to little conversational duels. Most of the time she had cheated and not won by skill of wit, but by brute force, slapping him on the arm or kicking his shins under the table.

Which he had deserved.

Every. Single. Time.

"Do I have any reason to be nosy?", Jane asked, letting himself once again settle back into the surprisingly comfortable seat and crossing his arms behind his head. He closed his eyes for a second, a wave of fatigue suddenly settling into his bones and muscles. He biofeedbacked them away with adjusting his breathing-pattern accordingly. They still had to compare and cross-reference as much information as possible on the two other crime-scenes before they reached their destination. Well, he had. Cho's task, obviously, was to stay awake so they would actually get there. He blinked. Cho had fallen suspiciously quiet. Not that "quiet" was unusual for Cho, but Jane had learned to differentiate the different modes of silence surrounding his friend. This one, he noticed, was "passive calmness", usually applied when Cho didn't want to talk about something.

So there was something to be nosy about after all. Interesting.

"So?", Jane asked.

"So what?"

"Marcus Pike. Thoughts?"

"He's cool."

"Cool? What kind of answer is that? Come on, Cho, give me something to work with."

Cho shook his head. "Jane, I'll say it again, I will not discuss Lisbon's love life with you and that includes voicing any opinion on and/or gossiping about her partner."

"I'm her partner" Jane said indignantly and this time he didn't have to fake it. It cut through him like a knife. He may not be what he wanted to be in her life, but at least he was still that. Her partner.

"Fine." Cho sighed. "Her boyfriend then."

Jane realised that hearing this particular term in connection with Pike wasn't less painful either. It was accurate though.

Unfortunately there was nothing he could do about it for now. It wasn't for lack of trying, though.

He had tried. Hard.

Until she had put a stop to it.

Looking back, he couldn't really blame her. After all, he'd been a childish, annoyed, jealous and manipulative pain in the neck for weeks. During the "conversation" (he tried not to call it by its real name during daytime hours) she had made it clear that she was in a relationship now and flirting - even if it was "just him" - her words - was out of the question. So apparently was tricking her into spending time with him or pick-pocketing, messing with or irking her boyfriend. And of course, reading her boyfriend and telling her about his - rather negative - findings. That was on top of her list. Of course in the weeks leading up the introduction of these rules he'd done all of the above - and more - in abundance. The fear of losing her to another man had made him pull out all the stops all at once without thinking, auto-piloting his way through the sudden jumble of fear, jealousy and annoyance at suddenly being confronted with an unexpected rival. Which, of course, meant he'd done all the wrong things, tried every trick in the book to get her away from the annoyingly handsome and irritatingly charming Marcus Pike. In the end all he'd achieved with this course of action was that Lisbon was nervous and jumpy as a grasshopper-mouse every time her two "men" were in the same room together and constantly annoyed with him up to the point where she threatened to cause grievous bodily harm on an almost daily basis. When her genuine distress had finally registered with him through the haze of jealousy and panic that surrounded him, he knew he had done the one thing, he had sworn never to do again.

Hurt her.

So he told her that he was sorry and promised that he'd stop messing and that he was glad, she was happy. She deserved to be happy. She had been relieved and had hugged him fiercely for a moment, but still felt the need to clarify afterwards what constituted as "messing" in her book. He'd had no choice but to accept it. For now at least.

Shaking the uneasy feeling that had started to replace the fatigue under his skin, he took up the conversation again, hoping to replace thinking about his own faults with finding out more about the faults of apparently flawless, handsome, emotionally uncompromised, straight as an arrow, law-abiding, ambitious Marcus Pike. If only to make him feel better.

"Come on, Cho, help a guy out here!" he tried again.

"Jane. For the last time. I will not talk about Pike and Lisbon with you."

Jane leaned forward and put his hand on Cho's shoulder in an apologetic gesture. "I totally understand, Cho. This puts you in a difficult position and I apologise for putting you there by asking to talk about the private affairs of a colleague."

He was rewarded with a rare sight: Cho turned to him in genuine surprise.

"Thanks, man. Appreciate that."

Jane grinned, the hand that had rested on Cho's shoulder now patting it lightly.

"I mean it, you don't have to say anything. Just nod or blink, if you think I'm right."

Cho turned his head and gave him an exasperated look.

"Or glare at me. That'll work, too", Jane said with a serious nod.

"Jane…"

"Seriously, though. Don't you think she deserves better? I mean, he is a little… boring"

"He's a good catch."

Jane rolled his eyes. "Oh please, how so?"

"He's a good agent. Ambitious. Smart. Reliable. He's going to rise through the ranks in no time, he… Do you really want me to go on?"

"I thought you didn't want to discuss Lisbon's love life with me." Jane remarked casually, deliberately letting a little annoyance at the repeated praise of the man seep through his words.

"I don't."

"Well, then stop it."

"You started all of this, Jane. Don't be a jerk. You are not seriously annoyed with me now?"

"No, I'm not. I just think it is unprofessional to discuss the private affairs of team-members without them being present" Jane replied with feigned dignity and a smugness he didn't really feel, distracted by something Cho had said. Though he didn't really get what it was yet.

When he did, a few minutes of silence and about 10 miles later, his head jerked up in alarm.

"Cho?"

"Hm?"

"The FBI is looking for someone to head up the New York office, are they not? Do you know if they already found someone for the job?"

He watched Cho's hands grip the steering-wheel tighter.

That was all the answer he needed.

But right now, he had no idea what to do with it. Because every possible scenario he came up with as a result of that answer ended with the same thing.

A broken heart.

Either his. Or Lisbon's.