"Shut up, Jane," Lisbon said to Jane sharply. She turned back to Agent Hotchner and smiled politely. "Agent Hotchner, I'm Agent Lisbon, this is Patrick Jane, we're with the California Bureau of Investigation," she introduced formally; "we're investigating a murder, and the man who lives at this residence - Todd Pearson - is a suspect."
"We know," said Agent Hotchner's partner in an odd tone of voice. "That's why we're here."
"You're investigating the murder of Cassie Fitzgerald?" Jane asked.
"Who?" Agent Hotchner's partner asked, confused.
"We're investigating the murder of a young woman named Cassandra Fitzgerald," Lisbon explained; "she went missing three days ago, then was found dead on the shore of Sacramento River early this morning. We believe Todd Pearson knew her well."
"We don't know anything about that," Agent Hotchner's partner said.
"Agent Lisbon, I'm Special Supervisory Agent Aaron Hotchner, this is Special Agent Derek Morgan," Agent Hotchner said, reciprocating the formalities; "we're investigating a series of murders that have taken place in the area over the past two weeks, and the man who lives here has ties to several of the victims."
"A series of murders?" Lisbon repeated.
"Yes, ma'am," Agent Morgan said; "our job is to catch serial killers."
Lisbon's eyes widened, and this did not escape Jane's notice.
"No, Lisbon," he said firmly.
Lisbon glanced at him, then quickly smiled at the two federal agents. "Will you gentlemen excuse us for a moment?" she asked. Without waiting for an answer, she retreated a few steps, then turned to face Jane.
"Lisbon, I know you might be tempted, but Red John is going to stay out of this," Jane said in a low voice.
"If they could help us-" Lisbon began.
"Red John is mine," Jane said firmly; "you of all people should understand that."
"I understand that Red John is too powerful to be brought down by the CBI," Lisbon argued. "We need all the help we can get-"
"You said you knew I'd catch him someday just a few minutes ago," Jane said; "are you telling me you didn't mean it?"
Lisbon blinked. "No," she said, "but it can't hurt-"
"Let's just focus on what we're doing right now," Jane said, "what do you say?"
Lisbon recognized her words from just minutes before, and she knew Jane wouldn't be swayed in his determination when it came to this matter.
"Is everything okay?" Agent Morgan called.
Lisbon gave Jane a quick glare that she knew he knew meant "I don't like it, but you're right, so okay" and quickly walked back over to the agents she had left. "Yes, everything's fine, I apologize," she said, smiling politely again.
"I'm curious," Jane said before anyone else could speak, walking up from behind Lisbon: "What are the odds that these two different cases we're investigating are related?"
"Well, we'd have to take a look at your case before we could determine that," Agent Hotchner replied. "From what we know now, it could just as easily be coincidence."
"Hmm," Jane mused. "So, either Todd Pearson here," he gestured at the house the two teams had parked in front of, "is involved in one of the two cases, he's involved in both cases, or he's involved in neither case and just happens to be in the wrong places at the wrong times."
"In short, yes," Agent Hotchner agreed.
"But in order to figure out which of those is the case, we'd need to collaborate our investigations and examine both cases together," Agent Morgan added.
"Well," Jane said, "in that case, I would suggest we do that before any of us actually talk to Todd Pearson - that way, we might better know how to approach him."
"Jane-" Lisbon began disapprovingly.
"That makes sense," Agent Hotchner said at the same time.
Lisbon blinked.
"What was your name again?" Agent Hotchner asked Jane. "Agent…?"
"Oh, not 'agent'," Jane said, smiling; "I'm Patrick Jane, I'm just a consultant."
"Mr. Jane," Agent Hotchner said, nodding; "collaborating would probably be a good idea…I'll have our boss call your boss."
"Uh, Lisbon here is my boss," Jane said, gesturing to Lisbon; "but I'm sure her boss would love to talk to yours."
"Alright," Agent Hotchner said. He turned to Lisbon. "We'll meet with your team in CBI Headquarters, does that sound good?"
"Uh, yes," Lisbon said, rather taken aback by how quickly things were happening (not to mention without her direction).
Hotch nodded at Jane. "We'll see you there," he said, and he and Agent Morgan got back in their SUV. Agent Morgan had already dialed a number on his cell phone. "Garcia," he said, but he was in the SUV and riding away before Jane or Lisbon could hear any more.
Lisbon stood where she was, stunned. Jane was already getting back in the car.
"Lisbon!" he called. "Let's go!"
Lisbon gave herself a little shake. "Right," she said, and she got back in the car with Jane.
On the way back to CBI HQ, Lisbon called Bertram to tell him what was going on. When she was done, she quickly gave Jane a very stern look.
"What?" he asked defensively before she could say anything.
"You know what I'm going to say," Lisbon said; "don't screw around with the feds. I would appreciate it if you could at least try not to make the CBI look bad while we're working with them."
"Meh, I'll think about it," Jane said noncommittally, more to get on Lisbon's nerves than out of true nonchalance.
Lisbon sighed, but she had nothing more to say. Please let this go smoothly, she prayed silently…
o~X~o
Hotch quickly called Rossi, then Chief Strauss, to let them know what had happened; Morgan called Garcia to let her know about the development, too. In short order, the BAU and their boss learned about the CBI case, and maneuvers were made to bring the two teams together. Garcia flew over from Quantico so that the CBI team would be able to get her help without having to go through BAU team members. This took a couple of hours, naturally, and the rest of the BAU reviewed what they had in the meantime before going over to CBI HQ.
"Our unsub does take young women, like Cassie Fitzgerald," Morgan said.
"But he doesn't keep them for more than a few hours before he strangles them," Hotch said.
"Well, maybe Cassie fought back," Rossi suggested. "He tries to abduct her somewhere along the riverside, she's more cautious than most, he becomes more forceful, things get out of hand, and she ends up in the river."
"Maybe," JJ said, "but we don't know whether Cassie drowned or was strangled, or died by some other means. We also don't know if she died more than a few hours after she first disappeared."
"We'll need to address that first, make sure she was actually murdered," Hotch said in agreement.
"Well, what are the odds of a man with ties to several victims of a series of murders also having ties to a young woman who died by accident?" Rossi asked.
"It may seem unlikely, but the odds are better than you might expect," Reid said; "the CBI is obligated to look into any suspicious death, even if there's no immediate proof of murder, if only to eliminate the possibility; based on what it sounds like the agents told Morgan and Hotch, they haven't eliminated that quite yet, and the odds of any given person having connections to any given dead person who lived in the same area aren't very low - Todd Pearson might just be an unfortunate victim of chance."
"In any case, we'll need the coroner's report on Cassie Fitzgerald before we draw any conclusions, including victimology," Hotch said.
The others agreed.
o~X~o
The CBI team was very nervous as they waited for the FBI team to join them - Lisbon, in particular, couldn't sit still, and was pacing by Jane's desk.
"Lisbon, will you relax?" Jane said exasperatedly from his place on his couch.
She looked at him. "These aren't just ordinary FBI agents," she said; "they're Special Agents - they're of a much higher level than anyone we've ever dealt with!"
"By which you mean they're bigger deals than anyone you've ever met before," Jane said. "Lisbon, relax! They're cops, just like you, and I'm sure your highly professional attitude will win them over without any trouble at all."
"Ha, ha," Lisbon muttered sarcastically.
Jane rolled his eyes.
Van Pelt was chewing her lip nervously. Abruptly, she said, "And we're sure these people really are Federal Agents? I mean…" She trailed off equally abruptly, remembering, as everyone else was, the last time they had worked with someone they had thought was a Federal Agent.
"Bertram spoke with their boss, Chief Strauss," Lisbon said; "they're exactly who they say they are, and they're a big deal." She looked at everyone and said firmly, "Under no circumstances are we to treat them with anything but deference and respect."
"Oh come on, Lisbon, they can't be that big a deal," Jane scoffed.
"Based on the way Bertram talked about them, I'd say they're a pretty big deal," Lisbon said, "and I don't want anyone to embarrass themselves in front of them."
"Because you're afraid we'll make you look bad?" Jane asked. "Come on, Lisbon, if they really are that white-collar, they'll recognize you for the exemplary agent you are and respect you."
"Jane, please," Lisbon half-begged, half-demanded. "You're the one I'm most worried about!"
"Lisbon, you worry too much," Jane told her.
Lisbon closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Then she opened her eyes again, looked at Jane, and said very sternly, "I am asking you to show the serious, professional side you showed while I was recovering from what Red John did to me. If you do not - if you start goofing off in front of one of the FBI's top teams - I will ask you to go home and not come back until you can be serious. Is that clear?"
"What do you mean, 'go home'?" Jane asked.
"You know exactly what I mean," Lisbon said.
Rigsby, Cho, and Van Pelt had no clue what she was talking about, but Jane understood - the smiley face that had been drawn over his bed in his wife's blood so many years ago, which he still kept, stood as a constant reminder of everything in his life that wasn't fun and games, everything that was dark and painful and very, very serious; if he needed to be more serious, he needed to look at it for a few minutes. That was Lisbon's idea, and Jane couldn't say she was wrong.
And then the federal team came in.
Introductions were made all around - Lisbon, Rigsby, Cho, Van Pelt, and Jane gave their names and positions (when relevant), and the FBI agents introduced themselves: There was Special Supervisory Agent Aaron Hotchner and Special Agent Derek Morgan, of course; Special Supervisory Agent David Rossi, a middle-aged man with a salt-and-pepper beard and mustache and rather piercing eyes; Doctor Spencer Reid, a very young-looking man with a boyish face and longish brown hair; a pretty blond woman, Special Agent Jennifer Jeroe, who answered to "JJ"; and the technical analyst, Penelope Garcia, a bespectacled, rather plump woman with curly hair and an almost childlike dress sense.
"So, uh, what kind of special agents are you?" Van Pelt asked, a bit nervously, as Garcia set up her computers on Jane's desk, per his offer. "I mean…"
"We're the Behavioral Analysis Unit," Agent Hotchner told Van Pelt; "we catch serial killers by profiling them, psychoanalyzing them based on their victims and patterns of behavior to try to get a better idea of who they are, what their next move might be, and how we can catch them."
"Oh," Van Pelt said with a slight, nervous smile. "That's…um…interesting…"
Jane, on the other hand, had turned around, and was staring at Agent Hotchner with wide eyes. "You're the BAU?" he exclaimed.
"You've heard of them?" Lisbon asked, surprised.
"You haven't?" Jane asked, equally surprised at her. "Lisbon, these people are the best at what they do, they catch dozens of serial killers every year! Even I respect them!"
"Jane…" Lisbon said warningly.
"It's unusual for someone to have heard of us ahead of time, especially someone not officially working with law enforcement," Agent Hotchner said thoughtfully; "how do you know us?"
"Oh, I look up serial killers in my spare time sometimes," Jane said as though talking about the weather; "you guys come up in relation to maybe a third of the stories I find. It's really very impressive." He grinned. "I never thought I'd have the honor of meeting you in person, though," he said.
"Jane," Lisbon said again, more sternly.
"What?" he asked defensively. "Lisbon, I'm serious-"
"Jane, go home," Lisbon ordered.
"Oh, come on, Lisbon-"
"Go home, now," Lisbon commanded sternly, glaring at him.
He looked at her for a moment, then sighed and walked out of the room without further protest.
The BAU watched him go.
"What does 'go home' mean?" Reid asked Lisbon.
"Oh, nothing," she said quickly; "just, go home. Don't mind him, he's not really part of the CBI."
Reid's brow furrowed, as though he was perplexed about something. Noticing this, Lisbon asked, "Is something the matter?"
"Well, it's just that, for most people, home is a sanctuary - a place of relaxation and comfort," Reid said; "the way you commanded Mr. Jane to go home, and the way he protested, suggests that in his case the opposite is true…which is interesting."
Rigsby, Cho, Van Pelt, and Lisbon stared at Reid, wide-eyed and, in the case of Van Pelt, slack-jawed. He sounded just like Jane! Not taking her eyes off Reid or changing her expression, Lisbon reached into her pocket and quickly called Jane on speed dial on her cell phone.
"Jane?" she said faintly into the phone. "You're off the hook. Get back in here." She hung up.
Jane stepped around the corner less than a moment later, smiling.
Lisbon looked at him. "You weren't really going, were you?" she asked.
He shrugged. "I figured I'd give it a few minutes at least," he said. He turned to the BAU. "Don't mind her, she gets very nervous in the presence of high-level professionals such as yourselves," he told them. "She's an exemplary agent, just…a bit of a stick in the mud sometimes."
"Jane!" Lisbon exclaimed.
But Agent Morgan chuckled. "Sounds like our Hotch," he commented.
Agent Hotchner's permanently serious expression lightened just enough to imply that he might smile a little if he wasn't so focused on his duties.
"I'm curious, Mr. Jane," he said as Jane sat back down on his couch. "You say you're a consultant for the CBI; what exactly is it that you do?"
"Uh…" Jane thought for a minute, tapping the side of his couch with his hand. At last, he looked at Lisbon. "Lisbon, may I-?"
"No," she said firmly.
"Oh come on, please?" Jane pleaded. "It would really be a lot easier to show them than tell them-"
"No, Jane," Lisbon said, glaring at him.
"What is it he's asking to do?" Agent Morgan asked.
"Let him do it, whatever it is," Rossi said; "I'm sure a demonstration would be more explanatory than an explanation."
Lisbon looked at the BAU, then back at Jane, her reluctance to let Jane do his thing in front of the high-level FBI agents warring with her drive to respect the wishes of the high-level FBI agents.
"…Fine," she finally relented, rolling her eyes. "One. Make it quick."
"Oh, where would the fun in that be?" Jane asked, standing up. He looked at each individual member of the BAU, shifting his attention between them, for a minute.
"Jane," Lisbon said pointedly.
"I'm sorry, I can't make up my mind, they're all so interesting!" Jane said defensively.
"Well pick one and get it over with," Lisbon ordered him.
"Okay…" he said under his breath. He focused his attention on Reid. "You," he said. "Spencer, right? Stand up, please."
"Me?" Reid asked, surprised.
"Please," Jane said, nodding.
Reid glanced at his team nervously.
"No need to be nervous," Jane said, "I won't even touch you. I just need you to stand up, and look me in the eye."
Nervously, Reid stood. Jane stepped closer and met his gaze intensely. There was silence for a minute; some of the people watching actually held their breath.
"What's your last name?" Jane finally asked.
"Uh, Reid," Reid said confusedly.
"Spell it," Jane said.
"R-e-i-d," Reid said without hesitation.
"Huh," Jane said, smiling. "Interesting."
"What's so interesting about that?" Reid asked, confused.
"Well, nothing, really," Jane said, "it's just that you didn't hesitate before answering me, not even for a moment. You see, there's a game that most young children play, have for generations - you ask a person what their name is, then say 'Spell it'; naturally assuming that by 'it' you mean the person's name, they'll start to do so, until you tell them, 'no, spell it', and this goes on and on, because the correct answer, no matter what the person's name is, is 'i-t' - spell 'it'. Virtually everyone experiences that trick at least once during childhood, but the fact that you didn't hesitate suggests that you never did, which confirms what I already suspected about you: you had no childhood."
"And he's off," Lisbon muttered as Jane started talking more quickly.
"You were a boy genius, a child prodigy," he said to Reid; "you skipped several grades, graduating…before you were even a teenager? Yes, just barely - you were twelve years old when you graduated high school. You have an eidetic memory and an extremely high IQ, and you absorb information like a sponge absorbs water. Unfortunately, and as usually follows such things, you're very socially awkward, especially around girls, and you suffered from a great deal of bullying throughout school due to your young age.
"You grew up in Las Vegas, that's obvious. Your father didn't appreciate your brain; he wanted a son, a boy, a kid who would play sports and make friends rather than read books. Your mother was supportive of you and nurtured your gifts as well as she could, but she…wasn't quite well…yes, she suffered from a mental illness - schizophrenia, in fact. Your father left your life entirely when you were very young, and your mother, though she did her best, only noticed your existence about half the time due to her ailment, so you had no help, no one you could truly count on, for several years during your childhood - I'm very sorry, that's a terrible situation to be in, especially as a kid. In any case, you made it through, and as soon as you were old enough, you had your mother locked in a mental institution - a decision you still have mixed feelings, some of which being guilt, about."
"How did you-?" Reid exclaimed.
"I'm not done," Jane said. "Because you're so intelligent and knowledgeable, you know that schizophrenia can be passed on genetically, and secretly, your deepest fear is that you will suffer from the same problems as your mother; you also secretly wonder if you had your mother locked away for her own good or because you didn't want to be reminded of that fear every day. You love statistics, they're your specialty, and the main reason you take such comfort in statistics is because you also know that, statistically, each day that passes by that you don't suffer from schizophrenia makes it less likely that you ever will."
"How did you-?!" Reid exclaimed, even more shocked.
"I'm not done. Another scar you carry from your childhood involved a…murder? Yes…yes, the murder of another child. You suppressed the memory, but it subconsciously pushed you into law enforcement, which is how you ended up in the BAU. Eventually, the memory resurfaced, and as a Federal Agent you actually managed to solve the whole mystery and close the case - you're very lucky, very rarely do people with that kind of history manage to get closure like that.
"On the other hand, the BAU is the first place you've ever felt at home - your teammates respect your intelligence and cleverness, and though they do poke fun at you at times for your age, it's all in good fun between friends, the first true friends you've ever had, especially Agent Morgan over there. You…also found a parent figure on the team, a father figure, a man who understood and respected you and for whom you had nothing but respect yourself, especially…in chess - you and he used to play, and despite everything, you never beat him. He isn't in the BAU anymore, though…yes, he left several years ago - vanished, you have no idea where he is now. The teammates here are still like close family to you, though, the only family you've ever really had, which is why you'll most likely never leave the BAU before you retire or possibly die, despite the many unpleasant experiences you've had doing this job - you've been injured several times, even targeted by someone you were chasing, and more than once at that…You've actually died doing this job - yes, you died, then were resuscitated before any brain damage happened…by the person who killed you? Wow. You've really been through it…and that's not even the craziest or scariest situation you've ever been in! Wow.
"Also, there's someone in this state you want to see, someone you haven't seen or spoken to in a very long time…Not your mother, she's in Nevada, but…an ex-girlfriend, maybe? No no, would-be girlfriend, if your job didn't take up all of your time."
"Can you guess her name?" Agent Morgan spoke up.
"Excuse me?" Jane asked, surprised from his monologue and turning to him.
Morgan smirked and reached into his pocket. "I will give you…" he said, taking out his wallet, opening it, and taking out a bill, "…twenty dollars, right now, if you can guess her name."
Ooh, Lisbon thought but didn't say; the ultimate challenge. God, I hope Jane can't do it…
"Okay," Jane said slowly. He turned back to Reid. "Spencer, do me a favor," he told him: "Look me directly in the eye, and think of her name."
Reid blinked but obliged.
"It's okay…" Jane said softly. "Don't shout…I can hear you…" He looked into Reid's eyes deeply, intently, searching with such intensity that even some of the onlookers caught their breath.
Finally, Jane spoke.
"Whatever it is, it makes you think of a flower," he said.
Morgan smirked, clearly thinking Jane was way off.
"It's not the name of a flower, but it makes you think of one," Jane went on. "Something like…lily - no, lilac…Aha!" He snapped his fingers and grinned. "Lila," he declared, pointing at Reid for emphasis.
"Oh, pay up!" JJ cried to Morgan, grinning. "Pay up!"
"Last name too, double or nothing," Morgan said, unruffled.
"Okay," Jane said, turning back to Reid; "Spencer, again, same thing: Look me in the eye and think of her last name."
"And no thinking out loud this time," Morgan added.
Jane glanced at him, then turned back to Reid and resumed his piercing stare.
"You think her last name suits her better than her first…" Jane began after a moment.
"Hey hey hey, no thinking out loud!" Morgan repeated.
"Sorry," Jane said, contrite.
Minutes passed; even Reid started to shift uncomfortably under Jane's gaze.
"Alright," Morgan finally said, "I'm going to count down from ten-"
"Don't count down from ten," Jane said sharply, pointing a finger at Morgan without shifting his head or gaze even slightly.
"Why not?" Morgan demanded.
"Doesn't matter," Jane said, still sharply, still pointing. "Count to ten, count down from any other number, count to any other number, but don't count down from ten."
"Uh, okay," Morgan said, "I'm going to count down from three. Okay?"
"Uh-huh," Jane said, dropping his hand, still looking intently into Reid's eyes.
"And when I say 'zero', you guess the name," Morgan said.
Jane said nothing.
"Three," Morgan said. "Two. One. Zero."
"Uh…" Jane said noncommittally.
"Hey! Guess the name!" Morgan pressed.
Jane turned his head sideways, not shifting his gaze. "I'm going to go out on a limb here," he said: "…Archer?"
"Oh, pay up!" JJ exclaimed again, joined this time by Garcia, and even Hotch raised his eyebrows in surprise.
"How did you do that?" Morgan asked, baffled.
Jane smiled and shrugged as he took Morgan's money. "Well, I could tell that, to Spencer at least, her last name suited her a lot better than her first name," he said; "that is, something implying strength, unlike something reminiscent of a flower." He turned back to Reid. "Also, the more you thought about it, the more I noticed you thought of something admirable, fantastical even, like an ancient Greek goddess…I'm guessing, Artemis."
Reid blinked. "Yeah…" he said slowly.
Jane smiled. "Archery, the noble sport," he said; "quite possibly the first symbol of female strength. You must think very highly of her," he commented.
"Wait a minute," Rigsby said suddenly.
Everyone turned to him, surprised.
"Your girlfriend is Lila Archer?" he asked Reid, his eyebrows raised, as though he knew the name and was very surprised to hear that an agent could be dating her.
"Uh, she's not my girlfriend…" Reid said awkwardly. "I haven't even spoken to her in nine years, she probably…doesn't even remember me…"
"You know her?" Lisbon asked.
"Yeah, of her," Rigsby said; "she's a big up-and-coming movie star in Hollywood. She caught a big break nine years ago, got a lot of publicity when she was at the center of some big stalker thing…" He trailed off, realizing what he was saying.
"And that's how you met her," Jane said, smiling at Reid. "No, wait," he said quickly, correcting himself before Reid could do it for him, "you met her before she had any known connection to the stalker thing by pure chance, then found out later that she was being stalked…at about the same time she did."
Reid smiled awkwardly. "I met her at a, uh, an art show, a guy I graduated from high school with invited me and I was in the area because we were teaching the local police force about profiling," he said. "He introduced me to her…as a movie star…"
"Which made you feel especially pressured, when you're already socially awkward," Jane picked up, "besides which I'm sure she's very pretty. Naturally, you used your defense mechanism of hiding behind your intellect, using big words, talking about technical things most people don't really care about…You expected her to just mark you off as a dork and walk away - as most women, even of lower social circles, normally would - but she…she stuck with you, tried to follow what you were talking about, maybe even…made a joke about it? Yes." Jane smiled. "It's impressive that someone who had so much going for her wasn't just a shallow snob - it's nice to know that there are such people," he commented.
"Uh, yeah," Reid said, smiling embarrassedly.
Jane smiled back. "And that's why you started actually liking her, as opposed to just being intimidated by her looks and social status," he said. "She…later told you that she liked you because…people in Hollywood are…manipulative - always looking out for themselves, thinking of their own gain, generally lying to that end; but you, well, you couldn't pretend to be someone you're not even if you tried - in fact, you'd probably do a worse job at it if you did try."
Some of the BAU team chuckled; Reid blushed and stammered incoherently.
"So when the stalker thing, whatever it was, happened, and she was in trouble, she was, I'm sure, very glad to have a familiar, trustworthy face part of the team trying to protect her," Jane went on. "And…you, in particular, were assigned to protect her personally." He grinned. "I'm sure you were more than happy to take on that responsibility."
"Uh, well, actually…" Reid said.
"Oh," Jane said, "no; something bad happened and you were ordered not to tell her…someone close to her died - was killed by the stalker."
"Her manager," Reid mumbled.
"She was mad when she found out, I'm sure," Jane said, "maybe even…excessively so, because she thought she could trust you, unlike most people she crossed paths with."
"Yeah…" Reid mumbled.
Jane smiled. "But I'm sure she forgave you when you saved her life."
Reid looked up again, his eyes wide.
"Yep," Jane said, "you took out the stalker, saved her life, all by yourself."
"Not all by myself…" he said embarrassedly.
"No, don't sell yourself short," Jane said, "you were there by yourself, the stalker had a gun aimed at Lila, and you saved her before any backup could arrive, all on your own."
Reid stammered.
"Did you kiss her?" Jane asked.
Reid's face flushed, his lips clamped shut, and his eyes bugged like a deer in the headlights.
Jane grinned. "Oh, you did," he said gleefully.
"She - I - I was…supposed to protect her!" Reid said protestingly.
"So you kept her close," Jane teased.
Reid gave a laugh in spite of himself. "That's what she said, actually," he said. Then, realizing what he was saying, he quickly, awkwardly added, "Er, she kissed me."
"You kissed her back," Jane said.
"Uh…" Reid glanced at his superiors nervously.
"Reid," Hotchner said.
Reid looked at him nervously.
Amazingly, Hotchner gave another almost-half-smile. "It's okay," he said reassuringly.
Reid nodded, half-timidly.
"But you haven't spoken to her since you left her at the close of the case," Jane said. "You were afraid - you're still afraid - that she'd move on, forget about the nerd who was only in her life for a few days, and besides, your overall awkwardness makes initiating any form of contact difficult. You half-hoped to hear her call you for a while, but that hope faded fast when she didn't." He tilted his head. "For what it's worth, I think it's pretty safe to assume she remembers you," he told Reid. "When you save someone's life, that's not…something they're likely to forget."
"I…uh…" Reid stammered into silence.
Jane looked at him for a little bit longer, then said, "Alright, I think that's it. You can sit down now, Spencer, thank you for being such a good sport."
Reid backed up, looking as though he was in a daze, and sat back down. Jane grinned at the whole BAU.
"And that," he said, sitting down on his couch again, "is what I do for the CBI."
"So, what, you're psychic?" JJ asked.
Jane laughed. "No, of course not," he said, "there's no such thing as psychics; I just pay attention. I used to make a living as a psychic, but I was a fraud, as all psychics are."
"You knew my life story just by looking in my eyes," Reid said, his tone suggesting shock.
Jane smiled. "You know, they say the eyes are the windows to the soul," he said. He shrugged. "I don't know about that, but there is a lot to see in a person's eyes. I must confess, though, half of what I said, I guessed based on the reactions you gave me - not just your eyes, but your overall expression and posture as well."
"So, you could, like, tell what any of us is thinking, just by looking at us?" Garcia asked.
Jane smiled. "Well, it's not just looking, it's paying attention to what there is to see," he said, "but…more or less."
"Can you tell what I'm thinking right now?" Garcia asked coyly.
Jane chuckled. "Right now, you're thinking 'Oh god, why did I ask him that, if he really can tell what I'm thinking I might die of embarrassment,'" he said without hesitation. "And yes, I do know what you were thinking before that, but for the sake of your dignity, I think I'll keep it to myself. I will say this, though: Remember that you do have a boyfriend back home."
Garcia blushed and ducked behind her computers; some of her teammates, especially Morgan, chuckled.
"You may not be psychic, but I think there might be a word for what you are," Reid said: "a mentalist."
"A what?" Rigsby asked.
"Mentalist: A person who uses mental acuity, hypnosis, and/or suggestion," Reid recited; "also, a master manipulator of thoughts and behavior."
"That's Jane," Cho said.
"To a T," Lisbon added dryly.
Jane, meanwhile, gave a tremendous grin. "So there's a word for me!" he said delightedly. His smile faltered, and he amended, "Well, that's kind of bittersweet - I mean, on the one hand, there's a word for me, and on the other hand…well…there's a word for me."
"What's bad about that?" Rigsby asked, confused.
"It means there have been enough people like that for a word for it to exist," Lisbon said, her tone still very dry. She looked at Jane. "You done now?"
"Yes, I'm done," Jane said, and he gestured to the BAU with a flourish. "They're all yours, Lisbon."
"Actually, I have one more question," Hotchner said.
Lisbon tried not to cringe visibly.
"Psychics make a lot more money than police force consultants," Hotchner said; "why did you change careers?"
Lisbon couldn't completely suppress a gasp. She had been expecting something about Jane's unprofessionalism; this was something else entirely. Likewise, Jane's face fell, and Rigsby, Cho, and Van Pelt glanced at each other.
There was silence for a minute.
"There's a…long story, behind that," Jane said at last, forcing himself to crack another smile. "We should probably focus on catching killers right now…maybe I'll tell you after."
Lisbon's eyes widened, and she looked at Jane questioningly. He didn't acknowledge her, instead diving right into the murder cases, taking her and the rest of the team - and the BAU - with him.