Author's Notes: Thank you Yaba/Yana as always.

Thanks to the following who took the time to leave a review: mwalter1 (Yah, poor Jane was pretty much shot down before he could try to explain, but I hope you found it something that could have happened with Lisbon's character.), Country2776, ThranduilsDaughter (LOL! Yes, he is Jane and prone to doing stupid things, or genius things that appear stupid… :-P), Charmed 225 (Thanks for the support!), yaba (I'm glad you thought the last chapter was a nice set up for the rest of the story. You have the unique advantage of knowing where the story is going…), Hikaru Ceres (Thank you for your compliments. I think I meant for people to sympathize with both of them, but for sure realize Lisbon's mistake along with her. Jane just needed some more time.)

Please read and review! I read each and every one, sometimes there's a question or comment in there that helps me with the story.

Chapter 4

Teresa sat staring at the wall for over an hour. She had oscillated between going after Patrick and letting him cool off, but ultimately decided to stay home. She had started crying after some of the shock wore off, but had forced herself to stop. Tears never did anything, she knew that from personal experience. She had done it again. Something good was happening in her personal life and she had to sabotage it. It was a defense mechanism. Though maybe she had been right; after all, Jane had left a hole in her wall. Who knows what he may do to her had they stayed in a relationship?

Deep down she knew that wasn't true, Patrick would never bodily harm her, or anyone else… except Red John. He had calmly told her over a year ago how he would enjoy slowly bleeding the murderer. Instead of focusing on the fact that he didn't cheerfully tell her he was still planning to kill Red John himself like he had that time in her office in what seemed like a lifetime ago, rather than seeing his hesitance as a big step in the right direction, she focused on the fact that he didn't say anything at all. He didn't say he would drop his revenge.

She had noticed the blood on the wall, on the edge of the hole. She wondered if he had broken any bones, wondered where he went, but was not brave enough to look for him, or even to try and call him. This is what she wanted. She wanted him to leave and she achieved that. She could feel the pressure in her eyes as tears dared to threaten her. No, she would not cry! Crying didn't solve anything, crying doesn't stop a drunk father from hitting you and it certainly wouldn't reverse what had happened earlier.

She needed to move on.

The CBI senior agent had, however, used all her reserve strength in telling a man she had come to love to leave her. It didn't take but a moment for her to crumple up in her chair with tears coursing down her face as she tried to stop herself from shaking with the sobs that caught at her throat.

At least she had never told him.

***

Teresa spent Sunday lying in bed. She would have spent the night on the couch, but had forced herself to go upstairs. Staying in the living room would remind her of what she had lost, from the hole in the wall to the couch that she had slept on Friday night with… that man.

She had fallen asleep sometime when the birds had started chirping, just before sunrise. She lay awake now, just staring at her bedroom ceiling. She hadn't felt like eating even when her stomach had protested, but it had stopped hours ago, had she not already been in a daze, she would have been. The petite brunette reserved this day for pity, because come hell or high water, she would be in at work Monday morning on time as usual. It wouldn't matter if she felt like crap, like she no longer had a heart, crime would still be waiting for her to solve. It's happened before; she survived and continued to work. If only it didn't hurt so much every time. This felt worse than her previous break ups. Previous break ups had been with men who weren't quite right with her in the first place, men she had subconsciously chosen knowing their relationship would fail.

So that the twisted part of herself could say "I knew it wouldn't work, there are no men right for me". This time was different, this time she didn't mean to get into a relationship. He had coerced her against her better judgment. It was against regulations. It was against regulations. Somehow that didn't cheer her up.

On Monday she would go to work and face Jane like an adult. They would be professional and pretend none of this ever happened. He was so good at hiding his feelings after all, he had been a conman, and she was a detective, a senior agent, hardened and jaded after working in law enforcement for almost two decades.

***

Monday morning Teresa Lisbon managed to drag herself out of bed, shower, put her hair up into a ponytail, and choked down half a bagel she didn't feel like eating. It wouldn't do for her to collapse at the office and cause a commotion. She had to spend some extra time on her make up trying to hide the bags under her eyes and eye drops to dissipate the lingering redness.

Lisbon got to the office just in time. Striding through the building, she braced herself to see Jane on his couch. She walked into the bullpen, making a beeline for her office, glancing out of the corner of her eye only to find that Jane was not at his couch. Grace was the only one from the team who was present; Cho would arrive exactly on time and Rigsby… usually on time with Cho, but sometimes a minute late.

Lisbon tried not to let Jane's absence bother her. He had his own time schedule. Sometimes he was late as he was buying coffee or breakfast donuts and/or muffins for the team, or at least that would be his excuse. Most times he was already at the office, she knew those were the days he slept over at the CBI.

A quick nod to Van Pelt, who had greeted her, and she made it to the office, closing the door and drawing the blinds. She believed she may have seen a hint of concern cross Grace's face. Did the young agent pick up on her inner turmoil already? No, maybe she imagined it.

It was about an hour later after having first arrived at the office that she ventured out in search of coffee. Someone had started a pot. Jane was on his couch, arms crossed and eyes closed. She wondered when he got there, but waved it off. Cho and Rigsby greeted her from their desks, each having been checking their e-mail much as she had been.

Lisbon arrived at the break room, grabbing her coffee mug from the drying rack by the sink and poured herself some coffee, pulling creamer out of the fridge, pausing and eyeing the yogurt drinks Rigsby had yet to get to this week. No, just coffee, she had that bagel earlier so her stomach should be fine and having been a caffeine addict for years she generally didn't get stomach aches drinking it on an empty stomach in any case. She wondered if she and Grace were still on for Wednesday night yoga (barring a late night case). She'll have to see if she was up for it in the next couple days. It was a great stress reliever.

Once back inside her office, door closed, she remembered that Jane would usually bring her first coffee on Mondays. She tried to keep her mind on other things, but she had already checked her e-mail, nothing much, her paperwork was all in order. She'd usually just hang out in the bullpen with her team until they got another case, but she didn't really feel like socializing, especially with Jane just there, on his couch. No, screw it, she just had to get over it. With that in mind, the brunette decided to go talk with Van Pelt, like she would on a typical day.

Lisbon stepped out of her office, coffee mug in hand, and walked over to the younger woman's desk.

"Hey Grace, anything new?"

The junior agent looked up from her computer monitor and smiled, "Not really, I went and saw a movie over the weekend though."

"Oh yeah? What was it?" Lisbon asked, being pulled into a natural flow of conversation. Her mind was taken off of herself, focusing elsewhere. She miscalculated though, as conversing meant a give and take between the people involved and that meant…

"How was your weekend?" asked Van Pelt, innocently curious, unknowingly reminding Lisbon why she had debated leaving her office.

"Lisbon, my office," called Minelli.

'Thank God for small favors,' she thought as she gave the red-haired agent an apologetic smile and left.