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I do not own The Mentalist, and I am only playing with these characters for fun. No copyright infringement is intended. Thanks, Mr. Heller.
AN: Thanks to those who have stayed with this story. I appreciate your responses very much - they make the writing process much more fun and the feedback is invaluable. This chapter is mostly transition, but necessary to set up the "important stuff" in the next chapter. Thanks for bearing with me. The title is taken from a song off of The Goat Rodeo Sessions album. If you don't know what that is, you might want to check youtube. Fine music.
Two days after the team "rescued" Jane
ABBOTT
"I think that about does it," Abbott said. He looked around the conference room table where Fischer and four other of his FBI colleagues sat. They had just wrapped up a meeting regarding former FBI agent Durbin. Their investigation revealed that Durbin was a new "recruit" of the Blake Association at the time Jane had exposed its existence two and a half years ago. The corrupt organization had just made a DUI arrest coupled with a solicitation charge magically disappear for him, and he was a few days short of getting the tattoo of a full fledged member. For that reason, he was not caught in the clean up operation that Abbott ran.
Durbin figured he'd dodged not one, but two bullets, and had kept his nose clean since then. However, when Kirkland aka Gary Smith called him for information about Jane's return to the US, Durbin feared it might be a reincarnation of the association. He'd been scared not to comply with Kirkland's request. He maintained under lie detector interrogation that he didn't know exactly what Kirkland wanted with Jane, other than to scare him. Even so, he was headed toward serious prison time. Abbott was satisfied that justice would be served.
Seated to Abbott's right, Agent Simmons closed the folder in front of him and inquired, "So, how is Jane?"
"He's being moved out of the ICU today. I think Agent Lisbon is over there checking on him," Abbott replied with an amused smile. "It was touch and go with his kidneys because of all the tissue damage – like a crush injury, apparently. Now they're saying he'll walk away from this with no permanent injuries. A collapsed lung, a broken arm, lots of bruises. But nothing that won't completely heal."
"So you can still retain his services?" Faraday observed with a wry smile.
"If he is willing and able." Abbott nodded his head.
"This doesn't void his contract," Fischer noted.
"I'll admit, I was skeptical, Dennis," Faraday said from the end of the conference table. "But your psychic has turned out to be not only a crack asset, but one tenacious son of a bitch."
"Yes, he has. It surprised me as well," Abbott conceded.
Simmons, who was sitting in for Evidence and Response, put it more colorfully. "Beaten within an inch of his life with no cavalry in sight, your man Jane takes out the bad guy with a piece of plastic? That's Braveheart territory, man."
A chuckle went around the table.
Simmons continued. "So this Lisbon- exCBI agent - that Jane requested turned out to be a tough cookie as well?"
"Yes, she has." Fischer acknowledged.
Abbott shook his head in disbelief and smiled. "We get to the scene – too late, I might add, and Jane is lying there half dead, barely conscious and out of it, but he's flailing at the EMT who's trying to splint his arm. Lisbon tells him to hold still, and he moves again, and then…" he snorted his astonishment, "…then she yells at the poor bastard and tells him she's going to kick his ass if he doesn't hold still."
The room erupted in laughter. With that story, they rose to disperse, and Faraday paused to shake Abbott's hand. "Good work. I'm glad your guy's going to be okay. You took a risk adding those two, and looks like you found a gold mine. By the way, the talk over at HAZMAT is that Rawlings may be the man promoted to fill Durbin's position."
"Really?" Abbott tilted his head in surprise. He was pleased. Up to this point, Rawlings had been left holding the short stick in this affair, and he seemed like a decent agent.
Soon everyone had filed out of the conference room, all of them headed back to their respective departments, and Abbott took out his phone to give Lisbon a call.
"Sir?"
"Lisbon, how's Jane doing?"
"They just moved him to a regular room. He's still pretty much out of it. Drugs I guess."
"The doctors are satisfied with his progress?"
"Seems so," she affirmed. "I'll know he's better when the nurses start threatening to throw him out."
"I see," he smiled. He was happy for her to represent the FBI's interests while Jane was laid up. No doubt Jane would prefer Lisbon's demonstrations of concern rather than his own. Besides, he hated going to hospitals. He considered them nothing more than germ factories. "Well, stay as long as necessary," he told her. "It's quiet here today. Knock on wood."
"Thank you, sir."
Abbott was still somewhat puzzled regarding these two. Despite the rampant rumors that many CBI employees had related, from all factual accounts, they had never shared more than a partner/friend relationship at any point. Given Jane's confession to Rawlings, Abbott wondered if that status would change. It would be interesting to watch. Of that, he was very sure.
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One week later
LISBON
She saw his blonde head emerge from the door of the hospital as she pulled her car into the pickup lane. A nurse's aide pushed his wheelchair toward the curb, and Lisbon got out to open the passenger door. From the look on the aide's face, she couldn't wait to get rid of her charge. The entire staff of Five South probably felt the same way.
The aide locked the wheelchair and Lisbon offered her arm to a still tottery Jane. The fact that he accepted her help told her he'd probably been released earlier than was advisable, most likely out of pure desperation on the part of the staff. Suffice to say, he had not been a model patient for the last three days.
The first three or four days out of ICU he had been uncharacteristically passive and obedient. She had worried about him. During more recent days, he had been a petulant, uncooperative son of a bitch. In other words, he was better. She had been in to see him as often as possible, but their conversations had never moved past the superficial issues at hand. To be fair, a hospital room was hardly the best place for a heart to heart discussion. So far, there'd been no hint of the intentions he had confessed to Rawlings in the Airstream.
She had to keep reminding herself that Jane had no knowledge that Rawlings had shared the details of their conversation prior to his abduction. While Jane had professed his feelings and his plans to court Lisbon to Rawlings, he didn't know she knew that. It put her in an interesting position. She probably should tell Jane what she knew – not that that wouldn't be an awkward conversation – but on the other hand, she found she liked being the omniscient one for a change. She had decided she would play this one by ear.
Jane had brought Rawlings up only once so far. While still in the ICU, he had asked if Rawlings was okay, and if he had given them the clues. Once she told him Rawlings was fine and had delivered the message, Jane didn't ask anything else. For all he knew, she and Phil were still dating. She felt it would seem weird if she just announced out of the blue to Jane that she was no longer dating Rawlings, so she said nothing. Hopefully, it would come out soon enough.
Lisbon glanced over at Jane as they drove down the interstate on the way to his trailer park. He looked frail and pasty, and he rode with his casted arm resting on the center console. It was good to see him up and dressed though. She never wanted to see him in a hospital gown again.
"Are you sure you're going to be okay in that thing by yourself?" she asked.
"Yes, I'll be much better there than in that horrible place," he motioned backward, referring to the hospital. "They're sending a nurse by every day to annoy me," he reminded her.
"Poor woman has no idea what she's in for," Lisbon grinned. "Or man. It could be a male nurse."
Jane turned to her, returning her smile. "Maybe you could offer some advice?"
"You were perfectly behaved there for a few days, Jane. I was worried about you. Then – boom - you were back to your old cantankerous ways. Why the quick turn around?"
"Well...um…" he stammered. "They took my catheter out. One can hardly upset one's caretakers when they have such a…convincing hold on you."
Ah. She should have put that one together. He'd had a urinary catheter for a few days because he had so much swelling "down there." She supposed that a tube up one's privates might make you meek and compliant. She stifled a smile. "That part's all okay now though, right?"
He looked out the window. Surely Jane wasn't embarrassed, or was he? "There's no permanent damage," he assured her.
"Good to hear it," she said without a trace of innuendo. She wasn't lying.
He changed the subject quickly. "The Airstream is actually a very efficient space, and I won't have any trouble seeing to myself there. If you would be kind enough to pick up a few things at the grocery, I'll be set."
"Sure," she agreed. "Make me a list. There's a little notepad in the side pocket over there with a pen in the spiral."
Jane found the pad and began adding items as he thought of them. "So how is Abbott?" he asked, moving the conversation along. Their exchange continued along the same lines as it had for the last week - practical, light, and comfortable – never getting anywhere near the heavier issues that loomed. Soon she was pulling into the trailer park and down the gravel drive to his spot near the river.
Jane stopped in front of his Airstream and took a great, grateful gulp of fresh air. He was appreciative when she steadied him by his good arm, as he ascended the three steps into his lair. Once inside, he made his way straight to the bed and gingerly eased himself onto the mattress. After he was stretched out and comfortable, he let out an enormous sigh. "It's good to be home," he said, yawning. "I need a nap."
"I'll go get your groceries."
"Thank you, Lisbon," he said sincerely. "For all you help."
When she returned with the groceries, he was sound asleep. She put the cold items in the refrigerator and sat the rest neatly out on the counter. Jane never stirred, so she folded the other half of the Irish tweed quilt over him, and left a note. I'll be back tomorrow. Call me if you need anything. Then she silently slipped out, and headed back to work.
One day later
Lisbon knocked on the door of the Airstream, and Jane responded promptly. "Come in, Lisbon."
She entered to see him sitting at his little table, sipping a cup of tea, with a half eaten sandwich on the plate in front of him.
"Hungry?" He chirped. "Cup of tea?"
"How did you know it was me, and not the nurse?" she asked.
"Seven knocks. That's Lisbon. Besides, the nurse isn't due for another hour or two."
"I don't always do seven knocks. Do I?" Her face contorted, trying to think back, but she let it go when she got a closer look at her partner. "Hey, you look better!" She swore his color had improved overnight.
"Thank you, m'dear. It's amazing how restful it is to be in one's own space." He motioned for her to sit. "Thank you for the groceries as well. I must have been tired yesterday, to have slept through all that."
"No problem. I believe I will have a cup of…" Just then Lisbon's phone buzzed. It was Fischer. They had a new case – a big one. They might be out of town for days, she said, so pack well.
"A case? Out of town, I suspect." Jane said as she hung up the phone.
"Yup. A human trafficking case over in El Paso. The plane leaves in three hours."
"Don't worry about me, Lisbon, I'll be fine."
"I hate to leave you like this. We might be gone for several days."
"The nurse will be by. I'm already much better than I was yesterday. I'll be fine." He paused and gave her a soft smile. "But thanks for the worry. Best go on, before Fischer has some sort of apoplexy because you're not at the airport an hour early."
If he was disappointed, he covered it well, and she rose to leave. "I'll call you," she promised.
"I will look forward to it."
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The case in El Paso was a nightmare. Every time they thought they had it figured out, things took a twist or turn that sent them back to square one. People were getting killed left and right, and they couldn't seem to get a handle on why. They were working with two more teams, but none of them was making any headway. The footwork on this one was never ending – there were literally hundreds of interviews to be conducted. After eleven days, she was tired, cranky, and ready to leave, but there was no end in sight.
She and Jane spoke every evening. He had improved rapidly, by his own evaluation, and the nurse's visits had been discontinued after a few days. By the second week he was driving again, but professed to spending most of his days sitting outside, listening to the rush of the flowing river, and reading.
One evening he was so excited about seeing a migrating bird of some sort that he went on about it for ten minutes. She now knew the entire life cycle of the scarlet tanager, a bird she hadn't even know existed before. Still, it was good to hear Jane sound so enthused and energetic, and it was a pleasant enough diversion during long evenings in an El Paso hotel room.
As the case wore on, Jane finally asked one evening if she thought he could help. She laughed at first, but he insisted. "Send me some information," he encouraged her. "What could it hurt?"
"How? You don't even have internet out there, do you?"
"Yes, I do. High speed, I'll have you know. And a government issue laptop. That's not all, either. I now have cable TV. ESPN. I can watch any game I want," he boasted. "In high definition."
Like that mattered to Jane, she scoffed to herself, and then it dawned on her. Most of her dates with Phil had been centered around sporting events. Why, Patrick Jane…
"Send me some files, Lisbon. Please?"
She remained skeptical, but given their lack of progress, she said "what the hell" and forwarded him some pictures and case files. He must have studied them all night, because the next day, he called and asked a very astute question about a picture on a secretary's desk. It ended up being a clue that broke the case wide open.
She would have to deal with his smugness when she returned, but she was happy nevertheless, because by Friday, the entire team was on a plane back to Austin.
Friday morning
JANE
Cho called him right before they got on the plane in El Paso, just as Jane had requested. They would land in Austin in about and hour and a half – noonish - and go straight to headquarters for a debriefing. Jane spruced himself up and put the tickets in his billfold. His face was back to normal, and other than the cast on his arm, he showed no obvious signs of his ordeal. He would be waiting for her when she got out of the meeting. It was time to give Captain America a run for his money.
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About 12:30, he arrived at the FBI building and made his way up to his couch. He laid down, crossing his casted arm over his chest, and pretended to doze. Jane hoped to avoid the rest of the team if possible, but he knew Lisbon would come back to her desk before she left for lunch. His plan worked like a charm. He opened one eye every few minutes to check on things, and before long he spied the team filing out of the meeting room down toward the cantina. Soon he heard Lisbon's distinctive footsteps approach.
"Jane!" she exclaimed when she saw him. His eyes snapped open to her expression of unmistakable delight, which warmed him to his core. Her face soon clouded, however, and he sat up to greet her.
"Lisbon, you're back. How was your flight?"
"I'm back? What are you doing here?" she asked, and then added, "You aren't supposed to be back at work until late next week."
"Never fear, I'm not here to work - not that you all couldn't use the help..." he explained. "I know it's last minute, and you must be tired, but I was wondering if you would consider driving up to Denton with me this evening."
"What? Why would I do that?" she sputtered. "Jane, I just got in. I haven't even been to my place. It's what - a four hour drive to Denton?"
He fished his wallet from his back pocket, produced two tickets, and began waving them back and forth dramatically.
"What are those?"
He didn't answer, so she walked over and snatched them from his hand. When she saw what they were, she let out a little shriek. "Oh my God! Houston Person tickets? Tonight? Live? Oh my God, he's my favorite saxophone player. Jane!"
"It should be good. Small venue – only holds two hundred. We can make it, but we will have to leave by three, in case we run into traffic around Dallas. You can sleep on the way. I'll drive, as I've done little but sleep for the last three weeks. I've booked us places to stay up there this evening. Tomorrow, if you want, we can poke around at the Arts and Jazz Festival up in Denton."
"I wouldn't miss this for the world. I'll touch base with Fischer, but I'm sure I can head on out. How did you know we'd be back in time?"
"I didn't. I've had these tickets for a month." He let that fact settle for a moment. "Why do you think I was so anxious to help you solve that case? I didn't want to tell you about them in case you were still in El Paso," he explained, " and we couldn't go."
"You're right. It would have killed me to know about it and then not be able to go."
"So. How about you go home and I'll pick you up about three?"
"Deal," she agreed.
"I have some things to get ready as well," he said and rose to leave. That was a lie. He had everything already packed, but he wanted to get out before the team got back. He would have to deal with their comments about his recent ordeal sometime, but he didn't want it to be today.
"Jane," she called after him, and he turned back around to look at her. "Thank you," she added, grinning madly. He had made her happy, he realized with a great deal of satisfaction. Hopefully this was the first time of many.
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Thanks for reading folks. I'm thinking you know what's next…
