-A/N I apologise for...well, them.-
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Jealous Guy
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The young officer at the scene gives a worried smile, mutters something incoherent, and then bolts.
"I don't understand it." Lisbon huffs. "I can be talking to someone, and then they just back off. Am I that scary?"
"It's not you, Boss..." Van Pelt stops, rabbit in headlights.
"Oh?"
Van Pelt swallows, looks away and speaks fast.
"It's just...most of the guys in the building already think, and then any other guy that comes near you, and, well, he usually starts glaring, and believe me, that's actually quite scary, even if he doesn't have a gun..."
"What?"
Van Pelt can't believe she hasn't noticed. He is almost as lacking in subtlety as Rigsby, and that's saying something. (The guy from Payroll won't set foot on their floor any more.)
"Jane." Ventures a nervous smile. "Ever since I've worked here, he's always been a bit...territorial about you."
"At least he hasn't tried peeing in the corner of my office yet." Lisbon mutters. Van Pelt snorts, horrified laughter. "Most guys already think, huh?"
"'Fraid so, Boss."
"Damn." Face-palm, torn between anger and amusement. "I'm going to beat the crap out of him."
"He might like that." Van Pelt says, before she can stop herself. Lisbon groans.
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"Dragging me into your office – that's how rumours get started, Lisbon."
"You're not being helpful."
"I'm not acting any differently to usual."
"That's what isn't very helpful." Part of her badly wants to laugh. The rest of her is mad at him. "Did you really have to...intimidate that officer?"
"Yes." He's completely unabashed. "He was leering at you. And that's my job."
"Oh, for..." Chucks the stress-ball at him. He snatches it out of the air, turn of his wrist, and she resists the impulse to chuck anything else at him. He's sure to be able to juggle. "Be serious."
"I am."
"So am I."
"I'm sitting over here, and not touching." He actually sits down on his hands. "See? Best behaviour." A very wicked grin. "You could cuff me again, if you're really worried."
"Like that works." Shakes herself. "Stop playing the fool, Jane. The case."
"Someone has been calling the house for the last week, whenever she was out."
"How did you...oh, the housekeeper."
"Señora Lopez was very helpful."
"She wouldn't speak to us." Frowns. "She doesn't speak English."
"Well, I don't have a badge. And puedo hablar Español. With a shocking Texas accent, true, but it's better than the High School vocabulary Rigsby was using."
"You do have your uses. I'll get Van Pelt to trace the calls..."
"...and then, after work, we can go out for dinner." States it, his eyes hopeful.
(…..A long two days haunting the offices, whilst she took time off with her brother. He'd tried to be good about it, had tried not to resent the fact that the serious criminal elements of California appeared to be taking time off as well...His phone had startled him, familiar tone that made his heart race.
"...knew he'd be on speed-dial. Patrick? My sister loooooves yooou....argh!"
Crash. Pause. Muffled laughter. Lisbon's voice, breathless.
"Jane...oh, stop moping on your couch, I'm back tomorrow...argh, Sean, you bas..." Click.
He'd laid back and laughed.....)
Bosco gives a perfunctory tap, opens the door. He's not best pleased to find Jane sitting in her office. (She's not best pleased that he didn't wait for a response.) They both turn enquiring faces towards him.
"Am I interrupting?"
"Yes." says Jane.
"No." Lisbon frowns at him. Small struggle of wills in their gaze. "We have a lead on our case, and Jane was just getting on it."
She doesn't want the pair of them squaring up in her office. Needs to assert control.
The blond man gets out of his chair with leisurely insolence.
"I wouldn't dream of disobeying my supervising agent."
"Jane..." He pauses at the door, and she tilts her chin, with a slight smile. "Yes."
This obscure exchange obviously conveys something. He gives her a sudden wide grin, nods and ducks out of the office. Turns her gaze to Bosco, and he only realizes the warmth that has been in it when he sees it die away.
"And what can I help you with?"
"Just a little revision on the Renfrew case. I'm trying to work out what this police report about an intruder was all about..."
It doesn't take long to explain, but he's appalled all over again at the sheer unpredictability of the man. And his ability to drag other people (Teresa) into his mess.
"I never thought you'd be happy working with such unconventional methods." Tries to inject a little humour. "What else does he do, dowse for suspects?"
"He hasn't tried that, yet." She's not going to let him denigrate. "He's extremely good at reading body language, Sam. I wouldn't advise lying to him." Tilts her head at his sceptical expression. "For example...are you thinking of running for office?"
Bosco remembers that jolt of shock from the first meeting. He'd assumed someone had been loose-lipped.
"I'd...considered it, but with the divorce..." Head snaps up. "No, someone must have told him."
"I'd only just finished briefing the team on your arrival." she says. Eyes turn stormy. "I'd only just found out myself."
Wincingly aware that his initial approach to her had seemed to encroach on her professionalism, now seeks to redeem himself.
"If this particular case is...re-opening, it will be a Serial matter, Teresa. I didn't make the policy, either."
"But you marched in here and basically conducted an all-out attack on Jane."
"I felt that his personal interest made him overly involved."
"He found his family in bits. I would say that makes him very involved." Calms herself. "We're extremely lucky that he decided to continue working with us."
Lucky?
"Why have you been stuck with him for so long, anyway?"
"We work well together." She shrugs. "I've never requested his transfer. And neither has he."
Catches him by surprise - he'd assumed that she had had no choice.
"I think we need to establish a few rules here." Her tone makes it clear that this is not a discussion. "You might be Lead Agent on any case that pertains to Red John, but until we know that a case does, it's a Serious Crimes case, and that makes it mine. My team, my decisions. My discretion as to whether I take the advice of my consultant." She can't set it out any more clearly than that. "I know you don't like his methods – hell, there are times when I don't like his methods - but he does have useful insights. Would you be prepared to trust my judgement?"
She watches him, quizzical.
This is a reversal. For years, she had been the junior. Followed his lead. She has had five years in which to learn and grow, but in his mind, she is still the green agent he was grooming for greatness.
Is he prepared to accept her as an equal?
Frustration and confusion in him.
"I...just..." Stands up. "Fine. We try it your way. But I'm not convinced that he's any use in the field."
"I am." (Shotgun blast, smell of cordite...) "I'm his supervising agent, he's my...problem." Her mouth curves, and he remembers that strange sense of humour he never quite understood.
He pauses at the door.
"Maybe...we should have dinner, sometime? Catch up."
She stares at him, honestly shocked. Realizes, with something akin to amused horror, that Jane was absolutely right.
"I don't think that's a good idea, Sam."
"Are you seeing someone?"
She can imagine his reaction if she tells him the truth. And that is so far from funny, that it lends a chill to her voice and eyes.
"That's absolutely none of your business." Takes a breath, softens her tone. "What we had..." (A grubby little affair, and doesn't that make you cringe, now?) "...it was over a long time ago." Finds a smile. "We are both very different people now."
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Jane is leaving the kitchen area, cup in one hand, tossing a stress ball with the other. Then, with no apparent effort or aim, he fires the thing down the corridor and back into Lisbon's office. There is a muffled yelp, a laugh and then the door shuts firmly.
"Her fielding skills are dreadful." Jane takes a mouthful of tea, eyes Bosco over the cup. "Yes?"
"I think we got off on the wrong foot..."
"Oh, no. We both know that you think I'm an irresponsible, reckless glory-seeker." Jane gives him a sunny smile, but his eyes are flint. "I'm not in it for the glory."
Bosco is slightly startled by the cool unfriendliness of that gaze. He'd been expecting to have to rebuff the man, had set out his approach accordingly. Had not expected Teresa to be so partisan. Or for there to be such a very strong intelligence facing him.
The record had led him to expect a slick, neurotic charlatan. This man reminds him instead rather too strongly of certain people he has met in the past; usually after arresting them. Dangerous and charming. The charm is not so much in evidence at this moment, but the edge of danger is, taut shoulders and hard eyes. A couple of weeks ago, this man had shot someone, without hesitation. Now Bosco can believe it.
Then Jane relaxes, which is even more alarming, mask of amiability bone-deep.
"You'll appreciate that I'm a little unsettled. It's been a rough couple of weeks. Luckily, with the support of Agent Lisbon and the team, I'm getting through it." Tilts his head. "She feels that we should be able to work together."
"I have reservations about that..."
"Oh, so do I. Luckily, we're not required to actually like each other." That light smile is unnerving. "Which is a good thing, because I certainly don't like you. But I'm sure that doesn't bother you, since you are so unconcerned by my approval."
Bosco wrestles down his temper. Long practice at facing cool and clever men with smart mouths.
"I don't like you, either. And yes, I do think you are reckless and arrogant. But my concern is that you don't hamper my investigation with your antics."
"Well, as far as I can see, it doesn't become your investigation unless we know that Red John is actively involved. And my 'antics' are none of your concern, either. I'm not an agent, I don't report to you. I work with the CBI. It's a subtle distinction." Something moves behind those eyes. "And rest assured, Agent Bosco, when...we...find Red John, hampering your investigation will be the last thing on my mind."
He smiles, then, wide and bright, and turns towards the bull-pen and his couch.
"Oh, by the way," Speaks quietly over his shoulder. "She won't ever come back to you. She's got her own life, her own career, and however much it burns you, you aren't part of it any longer."
God, how the hell?...
He needs coffee.
There are two guys already in the rest area. One is a big, lanky man with a long, mean face, all battered bone. The other man is short, a sloppy dresser with Slavic cheekbones and slicked back fair hair.
"...so he says I'll have to see if she'll let me borrow him..." Taller man shuffles to one side to let Bosco get to the coffee machine. "The Perros have a bit of a thing about mystic crap, we'll see if he can't put a scare up 'em with that weird shit he does."
They both stare at him.
"So...you just had a run-in with Jane?" Man offers a hand. "I'm Sibley."
"Chenkov. What'd he do? Tell you the colour of your underwear?"
Bosco forces a smile with the handshakes.
"Senior Agent Sam Bosco."
Sibley stares at him, then gives a raucous laugh.
"Oh, man...so you're the guy?"
"I'm sorry?"
"Shit, man, you really went and blew that big time. Chenkov, our man here is the one tried to get the Mindfreak bounced."
"Fuck, no." Chenkov grins, which is very nasty even without the mouthful of gum. "First rule of Fight Club..."
"Do Not Threaten any of 'Mother' Teresa's babies..."
"But 'specially not that one."
Bosco feels a lurch of horrid uncertainty as they snigger to each other.
"Are you suggesting that they..." He doesn't even know how to frame it.
"Got a 'thing'?" Sibley shrugs. "I mean, hell, nobody knows for sure..."
"Guess what we're sayin' is, if he likes havin' his balls busted..."
"... she's just the gal to do it."
They punch fists. Chenkov shakes his head.
"Seriously – you don't ever mess with Lisbon. She's one righteous tough-ass agent. Nobody else wanted the hassle of babysitting that basket-case full-time, and whatever they got works, y'know?"
Sibley takes a slurp of coffee.
"Crap, I just hope you haven't pissed her off too badly. I really wanted him for this." Dumps his empty mug into the sink, and heaves his long body upright. "C'mon, Chenk, you be my human shield."
"Oh, thanks." Runs a hand back over his hair, simpers. "I just ain't the right kinda blond..."
Sibley gives another dirty snigger, gives Bosco a smirk.
"Look, they got a capture rate makes the rest of us look stupid, so unless she rides him topless round the bull-pen..."
"...for which we could sell freakin' tickets..."
"...everyone's gonna turn a blind eye. What's the big deal anyhow?"
And they stroll off, leaving a very shocked man staring into space, and wondering where it all went so very wrong.
He can't take this to Minelli, remembers the man's words from before -
... "The man is a nightmare. But she's never seen fit to put a personal complaint over my desk about him, and I trust her judgement."
But now he wonders, with a gnawing in him that might be fear, might be jealousy, if there is more than idle work-place gossip here. If he can truly trust her judgement, or if she is being dragged under the spell of someone very dangerous. He's never thought her to be a stupid woman, but in his mind, she is still the young detective he sponsored, still the young woman who caused him to kick over the traces of an already fractured marriage. Now he sees all that strength and beauty and ambition, grown away from him. Falling under the influence of a man one step away from the type of creature he hunts.
No, this isn't jealousy. This is concern. Just...concern for a colleague.
What could he possibly have to be jealous about, after all?