Posted right now because Famous4it sent me a wonderful message.
Thanks to all the readers and the reviewers! And I hope it's obvious I don't own them…
Chapter Two: The Past, RevisitedJane eyed the familiar woman in front of him. Who was she?
His gaze flitted over to Lisbon, tied spread eagle on the bed. The vulnerable position didn't jive with his mental image of her. Lisbon was someone who took care of things. Larger than life. On top of everything. Capable. Not tied to a bed, staining the dingy sheets red with blood from her head wound.
He peered closer. Well, at least the red looked crusty and dried. Not fresh. That was good. He tried to feel optimistic. Her eyes were still tightly shut, blocking out the light from the two naked light bulbs hanging above them. The stranger's voice drew his attention once more.
"Better with light, isn't it? I see your friend's up, Mr. Jane." The older woman smiled at him and a memory tickled the edge of his consciousness.
Mr. Jane.
It was just there. Just out of reach. He definitely knew her. He glanced through the open door behind her, but there was no one. Just an empty white hallway. Cleaner than this room, for sure. But the man from before was no where to be seen.
Jane wasn't stupid. Far from it, actually. These two hadn't bothered to disguise their identities. They obviously weren't scared of getting caught. And, clearly, it was a sign that he and Lisbon weren't mean to make it out of this alive.
The woman's words had caused Lisbon to open her eyes and glare up at the one intruding in the room. Jane would almost laugh at her feistiness if the situation weren't so dire.
"Indeed she is," he responded. Better to play along for now. "Though I can't imagine she's comfortable like that."
The woman's eyes flitted over to the senior agent before returning to Jane. "No, I'm sure she's not, but I can't be too careful yet. Maybe later, once you realize the rules, we can give you both a little more freedom."
She stepped closer and reached a hand out to push a lock of his hair from his forehead. Her touch was almost tender, as were her eyes. For a moment, Jane wondered if there was something sexual on her part, but no. It was not desire that motivated her hand. She was almost…motherly. The world disappeared for a moment as he traveled back to another time. To his other life. A meeting with a client.
"Paddy says you have to move on. Let him go and move on."
The woman in front of Patrick Jane sobbed a little. "But I can't."
He reached forward and grasped her hand gently. "Yes. You can. I can help."
Genevieve Shawt—Genny to those close to her—nodded, eyes red and watering. "Okay."
He didn't let the realization show on his face. Wouldn't do to tip his cards. He kept his face calm, impassive. "What do you need us for, Genny?"
Her clear blue eyes grew stormy for a moment. Jane knew that Lisbon had turned her own curious, green eyes to him, but he ignored her for the moment. He had to focus. He had to figure out what was going on. Genny put both hands on her hips. "Paddy, how dare you call me that?"
Jane was surprised at the about-face of her demeanor. She was no longer calm, but annoyed.
"You'll stay here and think about what you've done wrong."
She slammed out of the small room, leaving the bulbs glowing. Well, that was a plus. Lisbon's voice came next.
"Paddy?"
"Not a pet name for me, Lisbon. It was her son's name." He tilted his head, still staring at the door, trying to put the pieces of the puzzle together. "She was a client back before—well, before."
He turned his head back to her. She looked tired. He had to keep her awake.
Lisbon's expression showed him just how much she was struggling, but he decided to humor her. "Tell me what you remember about her, Jane."
He closed his eyes, taking himself back to sessions where he wore slick suits and had even slicker hair. "Her son had died and she came to me to contact him. I told her that her son needed her to get over his death, to move on, and was then helping her do so."
He smiled wryly as he reopened his eyes. "For a hefty fee, of course."
Lisbon hummed low in her throat and Jane tried not to show how worried he still was about her. She wasn't as verbal as usual and her silence wasn't her pulling away from him. He was pretty sure it was a symptom of her injury. "Talk to me, Lisbon. What are you thinking?"
She huffed out a breath. "You had a lot of clients, Jane. And I've had a lot of cases. It's going to take the team a very long time to go through all of those unless they get a solid lead. We'll have to hope they can find something."
Jane wished he wasn't tied to a chair. He wanted to go and check out her wound. Run his fingers through her hair. Take her away from here.
Again, his previous life as a pseudo psychic was hurting someone he cared about. It had taken his family. And now it had hurt Lisbon. It was all his fault. Lisbon's voice intruded on his thoughts.
"Jane, it's not your fault. People make choices and this woman chose to abduct us. Now, we either figure out a way to escape or we sit and wait for help to arrive. Or both."
Jane almost smiled at the normalcy. She sounded so…so…Lisbony.
Too bad he didn't know where to start with either of those choices.