A/N: I suppose apologies are necessary! Apologies for the hiatus, I intend to continue writing this fic, but have been incredibly busy. Thanks to all of you who have stuck with me, I have another chapter written already and will post it within the next few days after I write #10.

Disclaimer: The Mentalist is the sole property of CBS and their affiliates. I do not claim any ownership of its material, cast, plot, etc. This is solely intended for entertainment. No copyright infringement intended. Patrick is only mine in my dreams...till the alarm goes off.

Part 8

The Team had begrudgingly re-assembled in their respective seats at their table and had commenced eating while Lisbon had secured Jane in the SUV. She walked in without a backwards glance, drawing near to the table she took a moment to scan each of her colleague's faces. First was Rigsby, who had assumed a possessive sort of pose over his steak, his elbows were on the table and he was hunkered down over the plain, white porcelain plate, his knife violently gesturing in the air as he spoke. His fork had pinned down a hunk of flesh, spearing it straight through before he spun it round and popped it in his mouth simultaneously turning to look at Cho who was replying. Cho was staring at his plate with an expression of disgust. Lisbon cast her eyes towards the burger arranged amongst the fries, it seemed well assembled, its juices dripping over the lettuce and tomato protruding from the confines of the bun, she couldn't help but lick her upper lip and swallow heavily. Cho continued to stare vacantly and talk to the fries with little display of emotion. Lisbon finally chanced a glance at Van Pelt, her heart almost immediately sinking. Grace had pushed back her seat, folded her arms across her chest, and was staring disdainfully at each of the guys in turn as they spoke. Her nostrils were flaring with each intake of breath, and her eyes were narrowed threateningly on Cho. The remains of her cob salad were askew on the plate, obviously picked through. The little dressing cup had been drained of its contents and was cast aside, lying on its side in the middle of the table, Lisbon imagined the little circles it must have made as it rolled on its edge round and round before settling.

Before she knew it she was standing alongside her seat, staring down at the bowl of clam chowder and oyster crackers that the waitress had left. Little tendrils of steam curled upward, inviting her to sit, and so she did, cautiously eyeing the rest of the team as she did so, noting that their eyes were now trained on her. She sighed heavily and proceeded to pick up her spoon, delicately balancing it between thumb and forefinger, before dipping it into the contents of her bowl and weaving it back and forth, stirring its contents trans-fixedly. She finally lifted the spoon, poised to take a bite when her pocket suddenly vibrated. She extricated the small, silver device from her pocket and flipped it open to read a text that had come through. It was from Jane, "I'll see you at the hotel, text you my new room number when I know it -Jane." "Dammit." Lisbon uttered softly, pocketing her phone again before diving into her soup with a new found vengeance. She avoided the questioning stares of the rest of the team as she shoved down a few spoonfuls resentfully.

…...

Jane had managed to sit in the confines of the SUV for a grand eighteen minutes before growing restless, the sound of the rain driving on the windshield was agitating him in his otherwise silent prison. When tapping his index finger on the armrest of the door had failed to abate his thoughts he began glancing back towards the diner every three and a half minutes, give or take, his anxiety building with each passing minute. He finally decided his best option was to find a way to escape the SUV, preferably without alerting Lisbon, then message her so as to avoid her wrath. So he crawled across the center console, slid beneath the steering column and sought out the mechanism that would trigger the alarm. It was easy enough to recognize, and he carefully pulled the cable apart from its counterpart, noting that the little indicator light to the left of the dash had ceased its blink. With that he righted himself from his awkward position, now sitting in the driver's seat, he hit the unlock button on the door console and stepped out of the vehicle into the still driving rain. He locked the vehicle behind him once more before striding out towards the hotel. When he was three blocks away and safetly tucked under the eaves of a small bistro he withdrew his phone from his inner left pocket and sent a text to Lisbon. The little display confirmed that the message was sent, and with that he strode out back into the rain, his feet dutifully carrying him towards the hotel once more. He kept his head bent low, his eyes focused on the concrete before him, an air of non-chalance trailing him as he passed the occasional passerby, calling no attention unto himself as he walked solemnly along.

…...

When most everyone had finished their meal, or had it boxed by the waitress, Lisbon finally perked her head up, commanding the attention of her subordinates, she swallowed heavily, dipping her chin momentarily before finally speaking in an authoritative tone. "I just want you all the understand something, what Jane has done is done. There is no changing the past. Now, with that said you all can choose to forgive him or not, whichever you decide is your own business but I am going to say something that I hope you all consider before passing judgment on him, or I. Jane is a good man. He may have made mistakes in the past, but haven't we all? Timothy Carter was far from innocent, that poor girl was-" She looked over at Van Pelt who quickly dropped her gaze guiltily. "So to suggest that Jane murdered someone in cold blood wouldn't be entirely accurate. He didn't know it at the time but then again, he was also led to believe that that man had murdered his wife and child. And really, how would Timothy Carter have known to be at the mall if he didn't have some connection to Red John, how would he have known what to say to Jane?" She closed her eyes a moment, recalling those words that Jane had spoken to her alone, the way in which he said they smelled, the honesty in the man's voice, how could he have perceived him not to be Red John? She was smart to have spoken first, she knew it. The rest of the team seemed to have paused to think before any of them spoke, giving Lisbon the upper hand.

Rigsby glanced at Van Pelt, who inclined her head to look at Cho. "I don't know what to say... Sure, we've all made mistakes, but Jane just carries on like he's privileged or something. He doesn't bother to consider anyone else when he lies and manipulates people. He manipulated us, all of us, and now we get to suffer the consequences, not him. It doesn't matter that Timothy Carter was innocent or not, what matters is that he used us, all of us, to achieve his goals, and look what that got us. And on top of that, he offers no sort of apology. Now he expects us to just carry on with our lives and work and for things to just revert back to what they were, like nothing happened." She trailed off softly, her eyes softening as if recalling something. They glossed with a sheen of unshed tears a few moments later, and her body slackened as she heaved a heavy, defeated sigh.

Rigsby watched Van Pelt intently as she spoke, his hand lying atop her's reassuringly, rubbing small circles with thumb across the back of it. When she finished speaking he paused, hesitant to react any further to her distress, he withdrew his hand, settling it formally on his knee which had begun to bounce heedless of his attempts to still it. He withdrew his gaze from Van Pelt with an upright jerk, as if caught off guard, to look at Lisbon.

"I think that in the long run I can forgive Jane. But not if he continues to behave the way he has been. There is no excuse for what he has done to the Team, lying to us whenever it's more convenient for him to do so.. which in reality is more often than not," He looked down at his plate, staring vacantly at the oily trails of steak residue "That's not how a team works, we're honest for a reason. I can't forgive what he's done to Grace, or you Boss, and I'll leave it at that. If he's going to work with us from here on out he has to accept responsibility for what he's done, and make amends, in whatever way Jane knows how." The corner of his mouth twitched as he plucked his fork up from the table, drawing little zig zags in the bloodied juices and seasonings, all the while staring at his motions. He dropped the fork with a sense of finality, pinching his lips together in a half frown before leaning back in his seat folding his arms cross his chest.

Cho looked at Rigsby with his typical expressionless glance before shifting his stare to Lisbon. He met her eyes and held them before speaking in his typical indifferent tone.

"I don't care. Jane has made his decision, he's reiterated it time and time again. How can any of you expect anything different of him. I will not willingly allow myself to be manipulated into anything to do with that man from here on out, because I know the result. I'll have myself transferred to another department if that's what it takes."

Lisbon looked aghast at Cho. "You can't say that Cho. He's saved your ass before and you know it. He may not be a saint but he sure as hell isn't as bad as you're insinuating."

Cho smirked "Oh, for a minute there I thought you were going to say "He closes cases." That seems to be your go to excuse when it comes to him. Easy, rehearsed, an easy justification for whatever the circumstance."

Lisbon swallowed heavily, her throat thick from emotion, before opening her mouth to counter, thankfully the waitress showed up to give her reprieve, lying down tickets before each of them.

"Give them here, its on work's tab." Lisbon uttered, making a couple "give me" type gestures with her hand, her eyes trained on her own ticket as she waited for them to hand over their receipts. When she had them all she handed them back to the waitress with a singular silver credit card. The moment she got to contemplate her next approach,whilst starring at her own receipt, prepared her for the verbal assault that followed the departure of the waitress, though she was surprised when it was Grace who spoke.

"I just don't understand Boss. One moment you're mad as hell at him, the next you're telling us to give him a chance, to forgive him. Have you even bothered to think of what he's done to you? Don't tell me you haven't, I know you have, and yet you insist that he's good man." She swallowed, concern bled through her austere expression, her eyes softening to look back at her friend, her boss, there was no hiding the poignancy within her eyes.

Lisbon turned her eyes down and to the side penitently, inclining her head as she did so. It was then that the waitress stepped up alongside her and set down the receipt, credit card, and a ball point pen. Lisbon mechanically filled out the little spaces on the receipt for tip and total, then signed it elegantly. She eased back her chair and was just rising from it when her phone began to ring. Flustered and struggling to retrieve the device from her pocket, it vibrated three times and emanated a rather irritating ring before she managed to extract it and flip it open.

"Lisbon," she uttered breathily.

"Lisbon it's Wayne Wright. How are doing this evening."

"Fine Sir, fine. What's up?" She uttered tentatively.

"Listen, I understand that you guys are working the Darcy case and I have some unfortunate information. You see, when Agent Darcy last visited the CBI she was less than convinced with Jane's story and requested the entire Red John case file." He paused as if to gauge Lisbon's reaction. "I signed those files over to her Agent Lisbon." He stated affirmatively with little intonation otherwise.

"Ok Sir, I understand. However there were no case files cataloged into evidence that I am aware of, I will double check that when we get back to the hotel." She struggled to maintain her composure, opting to tap the tip of the pen against the table, accelerating the rhythm in sync with her heart rate as she listened.

"Oh, I'm sorry to have interrupted your dinner Agent, I'll be expecting your phone call later this evening then. Enjoy your meal Agent Lisbon, talk to you later." A hint of a smile bled through with his inflection as he replied.

"Alright, thank you Sir." She reciprocated before hitting the little "end" button on her phone.

"Shit." She said, sighing heavily through clenched teeth. The Team was starring at her, awaiting answers.

"He has his entire case file. All of our notes. Everything. Darcy had it and now it's gone." She admitted, crumpling with defeat before them, it was as if all the fight drained out of her on the spot. She palmed her forehead a moment, withdrawing her hand with a swipe, she picked herself up and strode towards the door swiftly, pocketing the little peppermint confection the waitress had left and extracting the SUV's keys.