Chapter 8—Night Two

Van Pelt looked up nervously when Gemma, Jane and Lisbon returned to the kitchen. Whatever had made the dark haired woman and blond consultant so angry with each other seemed to have vanished as if it never existed. Gemma flashed a slightly guilty look at the red-head before stooping to help clean up the broken glass.

"You didn't have to clean that up," Gemma said contritely.

"It's no problem," Grace replied.

"No, it is," Gemma replied, gently prying the dustpan from Van Pelt's hand and taking over. "I tend to be destructive when I get angry. But I've never expected anyone else to clean up my messes."

Grace glanced at Lisbon, who gave her a slight nod. The red haired woman reluctantly stood up.

"What happened, anyway?" Van Pelt asked. She saw Jane glance at Lisbon's curious expression, and then away.

"I gave Sparky here an unpleasant surprise," Jane said with a slight grin, irrepressible as always. "She overreacted."

"And Janey should have known better," Gemma chimed in with an arch look as she shook the broken juice glass into the garbage, and started to wipe the drying juice from the cabinet. "But it's over now."

"Just like that?" Lisbon asked incredulously. The blue eyed man and dark eyed woman exchanged an amused look, remembering a very different woman asking that exact same question in this kitchen long ago, in a much different life. It had taken Jane's wife a lot longer to understand their complicated style of communication.

"Yes," they said together, then laughed. Grace smiled uncertainly, and Lisbon just rolled her eyes.

"Alright," Lisbon said, deciding enough was enough. "When does our bait arrive?"

"That's what I came earlier to tell everyone," Van Pelt said, brushing her loosely tied hair flat. She was still in her morning running gear. Her black running shirt hugged her generous curves, and her dark shin length pants rode low enough to flash the pale skin of her abdomen as she moved. Gemma ironically thought that it was probably a good thing Rigsby was trapped in the garage at the moment.

"Grosser's called, they said they would come at 11 am," Van Pelt finished.

Lisbon glanced at her watch, and was surprised to see that it was only now approaching 9 am.

Gemma nodded, the morning drama forgotten."Perfect, I do love an early delivery time," she said with a mischievous smile. "Grace, when they arrive, you will answer the door and direct them to the living room. Just put our lovely purchases wherever you think they might look good. Feel free to dither about it, too."

"Dither?" Jane asked with a smile. He leaned near Lisbon's ear to softly speak. "Not a word used often enough." Lisbon suppressed a smile, and the soft shiver his golden voice triggered.

"What do you mean?" Grace asked in slight confusion.

"Be indecisive, fussy about where you want them," Gemma explained. "The personal assistant like you is expected to practically read my mind about where I want things. I won't even be here at first. I'll just wander in once the real work is done. There's an easel in my car we can mount the painting on. I don't want the horrid thing on the wall. Creepy," Gemma shuddered dramatically with a little grin.

"Okay, let's make sure everything is ready," Lisbon said, eyeing Van Pelt's running gear and suggesting with a look that the tall woman change. "Triple check everything. I will go check on Rigsby and Cho. Those external cameras need to be secured as well."

A few brief hours later, a crew of six people pulled up to the Malibu home. Grace played her role to perfection, despite her nerves. Two of the workmen were more than happy to let the beautiful agent fuss over the perfect placement of the silk screen and painting. Eventually, Gemma entered the living room and calmly took over. Her dark eyes flickered over the workers, but she was all proper smiles and thanks as they filed out the door an hour later.

When the last man had left, Gemma leaned her back against the door and smiled directly into one of the hidden cameras hidden in the track lighting.

"Did you see it?" she asked the invisible camera, her grin getting wider. Grace put her leather portfolio filled with fake paperwork and lists on the table, and watched Gemma almost giggle as she closed the front door.

"See what?" Van Pelt asked, easing out of her high stiletto heels with a relieved sigh.

"The delivery crew," Gemma said triumphantly as Jane and Lisbon entered. Jane had the self satisfied smile of a man who had figured out a great puzzle.

"The delivery crew," Jane echoed in delight. "They are how our thief is casing the houses! It's brilliant!"

"The delivery crew," Grace said thoughtfully. "You have to let the delivery crew in your house when they drop off whatever art they are moving."

"A pair of sharp eyes, and you can see basically everything you need to know right there in front of you!" Gemma added gleefully.

Lisbon turned to Grace. "If you are done being secretary to the stars, could you run a background on Mr. Li's moving services. Start with those guys who just left."

"Right boss," Van Pelt said promptly, and hurried away.

By nightfall, the CBI agents had established the names and locations of the delivery crew. A few had criminal records, three including burglary. Lisbon had been for arresting the entire crew immediately, but Jane pointed out they still didn't know which, if any of them, was their elusive thief. Locking them all up could spook their real target. So they compromised, and Lisbon called Minelli to arrange discrete surveillance of the work crew. All in all, the CBI team decided Night Two had been well spent.

Tonight, the moon was again nearly full. The usual oppressive silence of the house had eased into a comfortable quiet, like the house was waiting for something again. Grace and Lisbon were talking softly to Rigsby in the living room, Cho trapped in the garage surveillance van for a few minutes more before it was Rigsby's 6 hour shift. They had left Gemma and Jane alone in the kitchen.

"I like her," Gemma said suddenly. Jane looked at her questioningly, nursing his tea. "Lisbon. I like her."

Jane could only give a cheerful grin in response. "What brought this on?"

Gemma looked at Jane a moment, debating whether or not to say anything. Finally, she decided she had too, for everyone's sake.

"She's strong," she said, almond eyes deep and serious. "Stronger than almost anyone I've ever met. I love you, Janey, but I don't always understand you anymore. And she does."

"And?" Jane asked, putting down his teacup.

"Show her," Gemma said softly. "I'm never going up those stairs again. Ever. But you can't stay alone up there anymore. Someone needs to be able to follow you up there. And this time, it can't be me."

"No," Jane tried to leave, but Gemma caught his arm in a firm grip, holding him in place even though he refused to look at her.

"Yes," Gemma said firmly but gently. "I'm sorry I can't accept what you have done up there. A part of me wishes I could, but I can't. Every time you go up to that bedroom, I'm terrified you won't come back out again. And you need someone to bring you back. She can."

Jane stared ahead, refusing to meet her eyes. Gemma sighed, and let him go. Jane faded into the shadows of his old living room once the others had left. After a while, Gemma headed toward the back of the house, and Jane suspected she was going to see Cho. Grace slipped into the shower, and then to bed. Lisbon made a few more phone calls, double and triple checking on her stakeout crews, before coming back into the living room.

At some point, she had changed into a pair of loose sweatpants and small tee shirt with faded print. Not her usual sleepwear, Jane was willing to bet, but more functional considering she was on the job. Lisbon jumped a little when she saw Jane sitting in a darkened corner.

"Jane, you startled me," Lisbon said, her voice taking a hint of irritation. Jane didn't speak, just looked at her for a minute. "What's wrong?"

Jane shook his head, and gave a brittle, rueful smile. He stood up, and nearly walked past the petite woman before he stopped. He looked down to the floor, chewing on the inside of his lower lip, blue eyes haunted. Finally, he took his house keys from his pocket and stared at them in his palm. Lisbon was quiet, waiting, knowing Jane was thinking hard, wondering where this unusually raw moment would lead him.

Jane took Lisbon's hand, and turned the palm up. He rubbed his thumb along her palm, sending a small thrill through Lisbon she couldn't explain. Then he set the keys in her hand and closed her fingers over them.

"I trust you, Lisbon," Jane said quietly, then walked toward the deck. "You wanted to know."

Lisbon felt her mouth drop open, and could only stare at Jane's back as he leaned over the deck's edge, the night breeze playing with his golden curls. She turned toward the stairs, and after a moment of thought, walked up. She unlocked the first door, just to the right.

The door swung open to a mostly empty room. The carpet held the deep indentations of missing furniture. The walls were painted with faded butterflies and flowers, paled by the moonlight. In one far corner was a small chair, just big enough for a little girl, with a ragged brown bear on it. The bear listed to one side, forlornly waiting for a mistress who would never come. Lisbon felt her heart break, and silently closed and locked the door again.

With a ragged breath, Lisbon turned to the second door. Not sure she wanted to see, she turned the lock. The door opened, and Lisbon caught her breath.

Staring back at her was a familiar, taunting face. The crimson color had long since dried to brown, but the mocking image still stared at her. Again, Lisbon noted signs of missing furniture in the carpet, the faded spots on the blank walls. A simple mattress with a thin blanket rested under that hateful symbol. Lisbon found herself walking into the center of that empty space, and looked around. She noted Jane's overnight bag in the master bath just off to the side, before her gaze was pulled inevitably back to the wall.

She felt more than heard Jane pass behind her as he crossed to the large bay windows on the other side of the room. When she turned, the blond man was gazing out to the endless ocean, his arms crossed as he held himself. She walked up to him, and when he finally looked at her his mask was gone. All that remained was his fatigue, his self-loathing and the burning anger that was as much for himself as the maker of that horrid face on the wall.

Lisbon stared at Jane with no trace of pity or judgment. He felt himself almost start to cry at the empathy in her fig green eyes, and had to close his eyes before he lost control. Lisbon tilted her head to one side, and suddenly couldn't resist brushing a stray lock of hair from his brow. She had to rise up on her toes to reach, and was so close to his face when he opened his eyes again. Their eyes locked, and the moment stretched.

Jane leaned a little closer, and Lisbon reacted by turning slightly to the side. Her lips met the outside corner of his, and Jane pressed his cheek into the kiss she left. He hands unclenched, almost reaching out but not quite able to complete the motion. When Lisbon leaned back, her expression was one of patient understanding. She took his suddenly nerveless hands and pressed the keys into them, closing his fingers over the cool metal.

Then she walked away, closing the door softly behind her.