A big thank you to all my reviewers and followers for sticking with me thus far.

Hopefully I'll manage to make this a chapter with something to keep you wanting more. As I'm going off to La Belle France for ten days there will be a two week gap til the next update, but if CBS can do it so can I!

Enjoy …..hopefully!

"Hey," she greeted him.

It was so good to be able to see his face at last. The ugly mask that had been delivering oxygen and had thrust an albeit necessary barrier between them before was now replaced by an altogether more subtle and less threatening transparent plastic tube which gently supplied Jane with the extra help he needed.

"It's good to see you looking a little better," she said, sliding into the chair beside his bed and giving his hand an affectionate squeeze.

"I was worse?"

A faintly surprised look replaced the weak smile that was struggling to stay for Lisbon's sake, before Jane's face fell slowly to a look of disappointment and his hand shrunk away slightly from her touch.

He looked away and paused for a few moments, eventually reconnecting with a searching look in his eyes.

"Where were you Lisbon?" he said quietly, somewhere between accusing and desperate.

Lisbon was somewhat shocked and it surprised her that she immediately felt a pang of guilt.

For what? I couldn't have done anymore, even if I'd been here you would never have known…

"I'm here now, aren't I ?" she replied rather tersely, withdrawing her hand quickly, embarrassed at what she perceived to be rejection. That mix of guilt and rejection made her unafraid to ask the questions that had to be asked, in spite of the inappropriate timing, so she just came straight to the point.

"Jane, we need to talk about what happened. If you're up to it," she continued, giving him no choice, not waiting for his reaction, "What were you doing at that house Jane? What made you go there?"

Jane sighed almost imperceptibly.

"There was a message. A text. On my phone," he said with a disinterested tone that made her regret steering the conversation this way so early.

Of course he was not ready.

His eyes now held nothing but detachment.

You cow! You haven't even asked him how he feels…

But she ploughed on.

"Who from Jane?"

"Do you really have to ask Lisbon," he said sharply, turning his head away and closing his eyes.

You know who I mean…I shouldn't have to say it…I'm too tired…

"Jane, there was no message on your phone. VanPelt found it in the bushes. No text. No voice mail. No calls. Nothing." She sounded cold but it was only fear.

You bitch! Leave him alone…

His head snapped back again and grimacing, he blinked rapidly as if to clear his vision, small beads of perspiration forming on his brow with the effort of thinking and moving and remembering.

He wished she would just stop, but now he needed to tell her, no use hiding it.

"There was... there was a text," he tried to shout, but produced only a weak croaky growl.

Lisbon felt a wave of shame for pushing him and so said nothing.

"It was Red John," he added tiredly and closing his eyes, turned away from her again.

Lisbon noticed his hands clenching; evidence of the pain he wouldn't allow his face to show her.

"OK Jane, don't worry about it now. We'll talk about it later," she backtracked quickly, noticing the warning increase in noise emitted by the machines around the bed.

She sat quietly for a few minutes, listening to the rhythm of Jane's monitors settle back down and watching the jerky rise and fall of his chest as he began to calm. She really could have handled that interrogation better, she berated herself. Why did she have to turn it into an interrogation? She wondered why after all these years she was letting him get to her in more and more irrational ways. Then she told herself she was just being silly. Just a reaction to the worry of so nearly losing him.

After a bit, the tension dissolved from his face somewhat, he turned back to face her once again and slowly reached out a hand to touch hers.

"Lisbon, I'd give anything for a cup of tea," he whispered.

Suddenly she felt forgiven.

She smiled at Jane's amazing ability to turn from darkness into light at the flick of a switch. She thanked god for that switch. It was what had kept him going through all the dark days. At least as far as the rest of the world was concerned. For him …even she could only hope. Who really knew what was going on inside that handsome head, behind that beguiling smile when the switch was thrown to light.

"Jane, I'm not so sure tea's such a good idea. That nurse just told me you couldn't keep water down a few minutes ago. Maybe just try another sip of water first. Before you try tea."

"Meh! What do nurses know !" he smiled the pretty please, puppy dog eyes smile, but only a half one.

"OK then," she promised him, "I'll see what I can do."

As she rose from her seat, the same nurse came rushing into the room. Blonde and bubbly and young.

" I'm so sorry Miss Lisbon. We had another emergency. Dr Brownloe will be in to check Mr Jane over in two minutes. Is there anything I can get you?"

"Oh, Lisbon, this Cindy. I think she's an angel, at least I thought so when I first saw her."

Jane had immediately recognised her voice and turned slightly to greet her with his eyes. He had recovered a little and was now in flirt mode, maybe only firing on two cylinders and very short on gas, but to see an iota of the real Jane charm offensive warmed Lisbon's heart.

"Cindy, you'll let me have a cup of tea won't you?" he crooned. "I promise I'll try to keep it inside and even if I don't I wont complain."

Lisbon caught Cindy's eye before she could answer and quickly rose to lead her back to the door.

"Back in a minute Jane," she assured him.

Then, safely out of earshot and the view of his prying eyes she put the nurse wise to her consultant's eccentric addiction.

"Cindy, I know tea's probably not a good idea right now, but his tea habit is like a comfort blanket, it helps him through the bad times".

Cindy looked a little doubtful, but Lisbon had already decided that Jane was going to have his tea, so she was determined.

"I know one thing that will make him very happy. Do you have a china tea cup?"

"Well it's not normal to serve patients drinks in non disposable cups, and I really wouldn't advise tea at all ... ," Cindy glanced back over her shoulder at the dozing Svengali with his secret smile, "... but as it's for Mr Jane … I have a nice mug in my locker."

She averted her eyes briefly and her cheeks reddened a bit, then she added warmly, "You go back in and sit with him and I'll be back in two ticks."

Lisbon had to allow herself a wry smile at the thought that her consultant had charmed his 'angel' within barely an hour of consciousness,

... 'as it's for Mr Jane' ... Really! ... the spell that man could cast… and don't count yourself as immune, Theresa Lisbon!

Lisbon had hardly resumed her seat at Jane's side when the door opened again and in came the habitually flustered Dr Brownloe; all clipboards and swinging stethoscope.

The more she saw of this man the more he reminded her of Minelli and consequently the more she liked him.

"Ahhhhh, Miss Lisbon. Glad to see you're here," he strode over and shook her hand with the warmth of an old friend, then pivoted to address Jane.

"I'm sorry not to have been here when you woke Mr Jane. You know how it is."

He cast an experienced eye over the charts hooked on the end of the bed and briefly checked the array of displays on the machines before directing his attention again to his patient.

"How are we feeling? Do you have much pain at the moment?"

Jane gave the man a withering look.

... typical doctor speak, patronise the poor helpless patient, ... 'how are we feeling?' How the hell do you think I'm feeling...!

...I feel like crap!

Instead he said, "Not too bad, apart from the bongos in my head, the way people keep moving around in front of my eyes when I try talk to them, the other people standing on my chest and the throbbing in my legs. I'm fine. Never better."

...Gosh ... that was a long speech, ... regretting that, ... need to rest, ... am I rambling?

"Well let's have a look, shall we." Dr Brownloe raised the head end of the bed a little more. "Then we can get you something for the pain."

The doctor took a small flashlight from his pocket and made Jane follow the beam as it flashed from one side to the other and back again.

Jane found it a little confusing but he did his level best to comply, although it made him feel sick again.

"Hmmm, still a little sluggish, but nothing to worry about. Now just lean forward for me and we'll listen to your chest. Miss Lisbon will you just support Mr Jane from your side, please. That's it."

It was horrible, Jane felt as if his chest was being crushed and could swear a pygmy tribe was attacking his right side with their nasty little spears.

"Take a deep breath for me if you can."

He tried his best.

I can't. Not deep anyway.

"Now cough."

Jane coughed. In fact he'd been coughing off and on since he'd woken and it was making him miserable. He didn't seem able to do it properly. But he tried again and it exhausted him. He sank back onto the pillows and gave Lisbon a wan smile. She took his hand again and he accepted it gratefully this time.

"Good," said the doctor at last and made his way to the foot of the bed.

Jane had not even thought about his legs, he just knew they hurt. He had not even noticed the frame that held the cover away from them. Dr Brownloe slowly drew back the cover and Jane peered down to see two bulky white logs and two sets of perky pink toes.

"Oooooh toes! Are they mine?" he mumbled absently.

"They certainly are Mr Jane. And I must say I'm very pleased with the colour. Could you try to wiggle them for me?"

Jane obliged. It felt very odd, sort of detached and it caused an unpleasant pulse of pain that rippled down his legs and into his feet and took ages to subside to it's previous almost bearable level.

"Has Miss Lisbon talked to you about your injuries," the doctor asked as he pulled a chair up to sit next to Lisbon.

She shook her head and answered for him, "There hasn't been an appropriate time yet. We haven't really had much time to talk and I thought you could explain better…"

In truth she didn't particularly relish the thought of that conversation. You could never tell how Jane was going to react, whether he would take it all in his stride and brush it off with a wave of the hand and a 'Meh, a few weeks off my feet and I'll be dancing again' or whether he would sink into one of his self pitying depressions and throw his toys out of the pram when anyone came near him.

"OK then. I'll keep it brief. No need for details." In any case, the doctor thought, Jane was looking very weary and probably wouldn't be able to take in too much technical information.

He was right. Jane had had enough, so he just listened and said nothing but a quiet "Thanks."

Lisbon found herself daydreaming, wondering where the lovely 'angel' Cindy had got to with that cup of tea, when she suddenly realised she too should be listening to what Dr Brownloe had to say if she were to help Jane in his recovery. She had already resigned herself to the fact that there was no one else to take on that role. And then she had told herself that she was being cruel and untruthful. She wanted to help him. How could she not.

How can you not?

She tore her gaze away from Jane who had closed his eyes and whose face she noted was beginning to take on an even more grey hue and she sternly erased the bizarrely dreamy look from her own eyes.

"… so these are only temporary casts to immobilize your legs until some of the swelling goes down. Then we can give you some much neater new ones and if everything else progresses well we can send you home. I'm pleased with your progress generally, but as I explained to you, you must try to keep on coughing to get rid of all that rubbish in your chest. It will hurt, but I promise you'll soon feel much better."

Consultation over, Dr Brownloe scribbled something on Jane's chart and hung it back in it's place. He smiled his goodbyes and left with a wave of his hand.

"See you in the morning Mr Jane, Miss Lisbon."

Cindy had been waiting patiently outside, and swept into the room before the door could swing shut behind the departing doctor. She proudly displayed a large pink china mug, decorated with multicoloured flowers and butterflies.

"I do hope you don't mind pink Mr Jane. It's the only one I have."

"Oh, no Cindy. That's terrific. He wont mind, will you Jane ? Honestly he'd drink tea out of a bucket, but he just appreciates fine china."

Lisbon answered for him again, unsure if he was still awake and debating what sort of trouble she would be in if he had dozed off and she had failed to notify him of the tea's arrival.

She need not have worried however, for the mere mention of the golden nectar immediately stirred the senses of the rather fed up tea addict. He was feeling rougher than he had since he had woken, but the thought of the warmly comforting liquid was so inviting that he found some renewed energy and began to struggle to find a comfortable position for tea drinking.

"Uhh, some help here Lisbon," he grunted before she had time to offer her help.

Together the two women propped Jane up and watched as he took the mug and enclosed it lovingly in both hands. He lifted it shakily and slowly to his lips as if performing some sacred ritual. He looked down into the vessel and blew gently over the surface then he closed his eyes and took a small sip. Cindy watched enraptured as he gradually took several more slow sips before lowering the cup to rest in his lap and letting his head fall back to the pillow. A soft relaxed smile grew and spread around his face and he let out a long slow breath.

"Thanks ladies" he said. "That was delicious."

But it was only the calm before the storm.

Within seconds of Lisbon retrieving the still half full mug from Jane's grasp for fear that it would spill, there was a plaintive moan and a wriggle. She saw a pained grimace and a sweaty grey mist envelope his face and soon spotted the ominous clenching of stomach muscles in turmoil.

"Tea coming up Lisbon!" he groaned.

Before she could pass the cup to the waiting Cindy and replace it with the bowl he had christened earlier, the front of his hospital gown was drenched in warm brown fluid and Jane was heaving desperately. Vomiting was soon overtaken by wracking coughs which seemed to come from the depths of his body and the bowl was filled with a mixture of thick strings of green and black mucus and sicked up tea.

Lisbon felt helpless. All she could do was support him in sitting forward, hold the bowl and rub his back sympathetically and wait. She felt useless and lonely. Even though Cindy was there.

Eventually the storm was over and they quickly undid the ties that fastened the gown behind his back, then they lowered him gently down and removed the soiled garment. Cindy quickly removed the oxygen tubing, blocked as it was by mucus, replacing it with the mask while she went to find a clean replacement.

Lisbon pulled the cover up protectively around Jane's bare shoulders, partly because he was trembling violently and his skin felt cold, but mostly so that she would not be forced to look at the mass of black and purple bruises that covered most of his upper body.

His breathing was coming in short laboured gasps and his pulse was racing, making the machines panic in unison with his distress and bringing a flurry of doctors and nurses into the room.

She sat quietly holding Jane's coldly clammy hand and watched his face as it told her the story of his torture. She patiently allowed the professionals to do their job; checking, monitoring, injecting and listening to his chest until at last they were satisfied and the machines had returned to something near their usual monotonous beeping.

Then Cindy fetched a bowl of warm water and some soft towels and together the two women bathed the shivering man and Cindy washed his face.

Lisbon felt the warmth gradually begin to return to his hand as the oxygen began to stabilize in Jane's body, his blood began to flow more smoothly, the shivering stopped and his face began to relax.

How do you think it's going?

Too slow? Not enough action? Not enough humour ( on it's way I promise!)?

Let me know in a review. Feedback is the writers lifeblood to improvement... all comments gratefully recieved.