Chapter Three: Am trying to introduce some Jisbon moments without rushing it and making it unbelievable. Hope you guys like it, i really appreciate your reviews so far.
Disclaimer: I still own nothing.
Teresa Lisbon couldn't sleep. Too many thoughts running around inside her head that she couldn't switch off. Her colleagues were sleeping soundly, lucky bastards, but not her; there was always something about sleeping in another person's house that prevented her from feeling one hundred percent comfortable.
She looked over at Van Pelt with whom she was sharing Cho's spare bedroom with; at least she was getting some much needed rest. Everything that had happened between Van Pelt and O'Laughlin only reinforced Lisbon's fear of getting close to somebody. Since she started to work for the police and the CBI she spent every day investigating paedophiles, murderers and downright evil people. This made it kind of difficult for her to see the good in others, and those she had come to care for were always snatched away; she thought of Bosco and quickly turned her thoughts back to her troublesome consultant before tears welled up in her eyes.
Her and Jane had always had a good working relationship; sure it was rocky at times, but over the seven years they had spent together they had developed their own way of doing things, their own rhythm as it were. This is why it was so hard for her to come to terms with what he had done. They had always argued about what would happen once he came face to face to Red John. She had stated on more than one occasion that she would not support his decision to end the life of the serial killer. He would have just assumed that this was because of her job as a law enforcement officer, and it partly was, but mostly it was due to the fact that if he committed a serious crime he would be taken away to prison and she would lose one of the few people who made her happy in this world.
Her constant tossing and turning was doing nothing to help send her to sleep, and not wanting to wake Van Pelt from her slumber she decided to get out of bed and attempt to clear her head. As she made her way through the living room she saw Rigsby sprawled out across the couch while still clutching a candy bar, typical Wayne. He was snoring so loudly it was a miracle he didn't wake the others.
She quietly tip-toed past him, put on her over-sized grey hoodie which was reserved for lazy days in front of the telly, grabbed her purse and headed outside to Cho's porch. The cool night breeze was refreshing and awoke all of Teresa's senses. She pulled out a packet of cigarettes, placed one in her mouth and hastily lit it.
She knew it was wrong to smoke; she had managed to quit years ago, but the insane pressure she was under meant that she had buckled and was forced to once again give into old habits. As she took a long, slow inhale of nicotine she felt warm and tingly inside; once she exhaled she closed her eyes and could literally feel all the tension and stress melting away. It was ridiculous that she had to use smoking as a way to calm herself down; the team and Jane would be so disappointed in her. Just at that moment she heard the door open behind her and she didn't need to turn and look in oder to know that Jane was now standing behind her.
'Nice pyjamas Lisbon,' he said as she turned to face him. He gestured towards her leopard print pyjama bottoms. Jane was, oddly, still dressed in a pristine, three-piece suit even though it was around 3 o clock in the morning. Lisbon began to wonder if he owned any other clothes.
'I'm ashamed,' he added, obviously referring to the cigarette she held in her hand, 'smoking kills Lisbon.'
'So does pointing a gun and shooting somebody Jane.' She quipped back almost instantaneously and with a hint of anger in her voice. 'And i happen to think that my form of stress relief is not so bad given the alternative.'
'Ouch, that one hurt.' He said, pretending to be hurt by her comments. He made his way to one of the two porch chairs available and signalled for Lisbon to join him. However she remained rooted to the ground and continued to puff away, all the while glaring at him. She couldn't even be bothered to explain why she was having difficulty dealing with what he had done. He knew all too well what she was feeling, after all, that was his area of expertise.
'So, how was prison this time around?' she asked with a slightly more upbeat tone to her voice. She had thought about him constantly, about how he was coping with being locked up for the second time; Jane in jail was an interesting concept.
'Good, actually. It appears that being arrested for murder gives you far more respect than simply being there for eaves dropping on a state agent.'
Lisbon couldn't help but laugh. The thought of Jane sat around a table and making small talk with large, hairy tattooed thugs would even get Cho giggling.
'There it is,' he chirped, 'It's nice to see you smile, Teresa.'
'Then stop doing things to make me frown.' She replied instantly and almost missing the fact that he had just addressed her in first name terms. He only ever addressed her as Lisbon; Teresa was saved for those very rare occasions when he was being serious and sincere.
She turned away from him to finish her cigarette and look out upon Cho's neighbourhood. His house was in a lovely neighbourhood, a quiet suburb where kids could learn to ride their bikes and play out until it got dark. Something tugged at her heart and she felt that yearning for a simple, happy life. Her childhood was full of uncertainty and fear and it was at times like this, when she was scared and alone, that she longed for a completely different life. Would she ever get married and have kids? Would she have that lovely house in the suburbs with that white picket fence and the neighbours you could rely on? That odd dream seemed further away than ever now. Anyway who would want to have children in such an evil world? She chose her path, too late to back out now.
As she stubbed out her cigarette she turned back towards Jane and sat in the chair next to him. She could feel his eyes fixed upon her face but she daren't meet his gaze. She was too tired, too confused for mind games or a deep conversation. Instead she stuck out her hand and felt him grasp it tightly, as if he would never let go. She then heard what she had never thought she would hear. Patrick spoke so softly that it could have easily gone unheard, but she heard it and it made all the difference.
'I'm sorry Teresa. I'm so sorry.'