Chapter 9 - The stars come falling down on me tonight

A/N: Thanks again to the indefatigable Hayseed Socrates who had to edit this monster of a chapter. This chapter concludes my first attempt at a case fic arc and parts of it were a real bear to write! Hopefully it works OK and people are reasonably satisfied with the reveal and conclusion. The crime is solved the story continues...

Jane involuntarily backed away until he was brought up short by the chain link fence. "Uh, hi Roger. I'm Patrick Jane with the Canberra Bureau of Investigation. "

The man stiffened in response to Jane's greeting. "How did you know my name?"

Despite the gravity of the situation, the consultant grinned. "Well, I wasn't completely sure until you just confirmed it, but your name IS Roger, isn't it." It wasn't phrased as a question.

Taking advantage of the other man's surprise, Jane made a dash for safety. Unfortunately his pants pocket snagged on a loose end of wire and he was yanked backwards as if on the end of a spring. The next second a fist landed just below his right ear and he fell dazed to the ground. As he lay gasping in shock Roger grasped the collar of his shirt and dragged him inside the compound and towards one of the huts. As he battled nausea a part of Patrick still found time to marvel at the clarity of the stars above, their light drenching the sky. He drank in the sight, wondering as he did if it was the last thing of beauty he would ever see.

Inside the hut he was roughly shoved into a folding chair. A neon lamp shed pale light in a small portion of the empty detention barrack. Jane's hands were bound behind him with what felt like bungee cord. It was surprisingly effective. Roger now stood a few metres back from him, knife held negligently in his right hand. "I'm sorry about that," he apologised. "I don't normally succumb to violence but you caught me by surprise."

Seeing that further mistreatment was not immediately in the offing, Jane took a few seconds to gather his wits. "I'm glad to hear it. I'd much rather speak with a civilised man than suffer a knife in the guts. What's going on here Roger? How have you gone from an altruist to a murderer?"

His captor didn't immediately respond, just stared at Jane and tapped the bloody knife absentmindedly against his thigh. "How did you know my name and who else knows where we are?"

Jane forced himself to project confidence in his next words. "When I found a dead priest with the letter 'A' carved on his body along with a woman and daughter called Heather and Pearl Prynn, well, the student of literature in me immediately started to wonder if a Roger Chillingworth was on the scene. You carved the scarlet letter into the man's head! Not exactly subtle."

Roger's tapping stopped mid stroke in surprise at Jane's revelation. Jane took the opportunity to keep talking. "You do have my sympathy. Who the hell names their kid after a literary villain? Was it a self-fulfilling prophesy that made you embrace the name?"

Roger's expression turned to thunder and Jane hastily changed the topic. "Ah, in answer to your other question, my colleagues know where I am and will be here shortly. Your best bet is to surrender peacefully before things get even worse for you. Either that or hop on that trail bike of yours and see if you can outrun the inevitable road blocks."

Roger looked down at the man who oozed confidence despite his position of submission. He considered his words, then remembered how the self-same man had been cowering in abject terror only minutes before. "You know," he began conversationally, "I don't even know your name…"

"It's Patrick."

"…Patrick, and yet I can already sense you're a real smartarse. I'll bet you'd love nothing more than to see me piss off, chief, but I figure you're either full of bullshit or will make a useful hostage if they come after me."

Jane shrugged helplessly in response to Rodger's words while his mind worked furiously. Hopefully Lisbon had read his text and was already on the way over to take him to task for his late night foolishness. His best bet was to be conciliatory and keep the man talking. He dropped his head in submission. "OK, you're the one in charge here Roger. Looks like no-one is going anywhere. "

His captor visibly relaxed. "That's right. Give a man some time to think." He pulled up another chair and sat down facing Jane. A second later he jumped up again and began pacing the room, getting more and more upset. Jane watched him carefully, debating the risks of leaving him to it or diverting him from his escalating agitation. The man was unstable and Jane was suddenly fearful of what he might do if he worked himself up sufficiently.

"Tell me what happened seven years ago," he said gently. "I don't think you're normally a violent man."

Chillingworth stopped pacing and turned to look at Jane. "That's right, I'm not, but what business is that of yours?"

The consultant sighed. "Well none, really, but you strike me as a man of principles who got a little lost along the way…"

Roger sat down again. "I was a man of principles. I was completing my post grad studies in Adelaide when the whole detention centre mess started to get some press. I knew that something was happening there but the government was covering it up as usual. I decided it was time to stop being a bystander. Heather was my girlfriend…" Roger's face flickered at her mention. Jane picked up several emotions, obsession, love and hate being the strongest of them.

"You and Heather were meant to be together…" Jane probed.

His captor straightened in his chair. "That's right. Did my name predispose me to being drawn to her? Do I blame my parent obsession with the book? I don't know. I met her and I learned her name and I knew she was meant to be mine, and she was!" His voice dropped. "She was. Heather believed in me, in my work. When I told her to take a break from her studies and get a job at the detention centre she did. I drove up whenever I could, pretended to be a tourist. Everything was going perfectly to plan but then she started having second thoughts."

Jane nodded. "It's normal to bond with the people you are working with. The longer she was with her co-workers, the more conflicted she would have felt."

Rodger's face tightened. "Her 'co-workers' were willing conspirators in a massive abuse of human rights! Did you ever pay attention to what was happening there? Or did you just bury your head in the sand like the rest of the sheep?"

Jane regarded the man sadly. "It's funny, you know. Only yesterday I was having a similar conversation with my colleague. Some terrible things happened here, you can just feel it in the air. Believe me, when it comes to having this place shut down, I'm with you one hundred percent. No child should ever see the inside of a place like this."

"Damn right," Roger agreed. "The wolves were amongst the lambs in this place and the guards didn't care. Things were so bad a bunch of detainees sewed their lips together in protest…"

Jane shuddered in horror. "I read about it, Jane said softly. "Some of them were children." He exhaled heavily. "I read about it and then I chose not to read about it." I'm… I'm not proud of that. The lip sewing… That was so horrific it got international coverage…"

Roger straightened with pride. "…All thanks to me and Heather finally blowing the whistle. She didn't want too but I made her. Of course even that wasn't enough to get the place shut down so I and few others went up there and assisted with a mass breakout." Roger's face warmed at the memory. "It was awesome. To see the gates open, the guards getting their due, people running to freedom…"

"…But it didn't turn out so well," Jane interjected.

Roger's slumped in his chair. "There was no-where to run to. Woomera was flooded with military and the rest was desert with over 80ks to Roxby Downs. They arrested me within hours of the escape. The bastards treated me like I was the criminal! Once the System got its hands on me I was never given a fair hearing. They sentenced me to 10 years on account some guards were badly injured."

A moment of silence stretched between them. Jane took the opportunity to listen intently for any sign the team was approaching but he heard nothing. He needed to buy more time. "I admire what you did, Roger. I wish I was the sort of man who had the current to take righteous action. So tell me straight. How did you go from being a humanitarian to a murderer?"

Lisbon was in the middle of updating Cho and Rigsby on the details of Grace's background check when Jane's text arrived. She ignored it and continued with her brief.

"…so until six months ago Schaefer was a prison guard at Mobilong prison in the low security division. Nothing exceptional about his service there and in the personnel files it says he resigned for personal reasons. He was working here in Woomera within a month of tendering his resignation."

Cho frowned. "What's his connection with Kroos? Could this be a random killing?"

Lisbon pressed a hand to the small of her back and rolled her shoulders. "Patrick is convinced the killings are connected and also linked to Heather Prynn. When I tried to corner him on it he got all cryptic. He did say you and I should go through Heather's background and that something would jump out… "

"He just loves laying out the trail of bread crumbs, doesn't he," Cho groused.

Rigsby stifled a chuckle behind his fist then creased his brow on thought. "Hey boss, maybe the connection is one of the prisoners at Mobilong?"

Lisbon flashed a pleased smile at her subordinate. "Grace has already downloaded the list.
She's on her way over to give us a hardcopy."

"I don't get it," Cho interjected. "If he wasn't guessing, what link did Jane expect to jump out?"

His boss sighed in frustration. "God knows. What sort of name would you associate with Heather Prynn, her daughter Pearl and a dead priest…" Her voice trailed off as she and Cho exchanged a meaningful glance. "Kimball, you don't think…"

Cho was shaking his head in disbelief. "That's a crazy theory even for Patrick. I didn't make the connection until you said them all in the one sentence."

Wayne was looking back and forwards from Cho to Lisbon as if he was courtside at a tennis match. "What are you talking about?"

Teresa took pity on Rigsby. "Cho and I think that Patrick thinks that the identity of the killer is linked to the Scarlett Letter." On seeing the lack of comprehension on his face she elaborated. "It's a film…"

"…Book!" Cho interjected in undisguised horror at Lisbon's philistinism.

Lisbon stifled a grin but pressed on "…and book called The Scarlet Letter. It's set a couple of hundred years ago in a deeply religious community in America where a married woman commits adultery with a priest and falls pregnant with a child who she names Pearl."

Wayne continued to look puzzled. "How is this helping us find a killer?"

Cho took over. "In the book, Hester Prynne's husband returns after a long absence to exact a fearful revenge on the minister who committed adultery with his wife. I can't remember his name but if we Google the story we'll find who Jane suspects to be the killer."

A chime reminded Lisbon she hadn't opened her text. She fumbled it out of her pants pocket and read Jane's message. She looked up at her team. "Guys, Jane has gone off to the detention centre to find Roger Chillingworth."

Cho stopped fiddling with his smartphone. "That's the name, but what are the odds he'll find something?"

"If it was anyone else, I'd say none, but this is Patrick we're talking about," said Lisbon darkly. "Also he says someone cut a hole in the fence at the back of the centre."

At this point they were joined by Grace, who was carrying a sheaf of printouts. "Hi team, what's news?" Cho and Lisbon exchanged a look.

Jane winced in pain as his temple began to throb, a delayed effect from the blow he'd taken, though an irreverent part of him also wondered if it was a partial reaction to the self-pitying monologue he was about to endure.

Roger had made himself comfortable in his chair again, though he still held the knife loosely in his right hand. "I loved Heather, truly. It's like we were fated to be together. I had every intention of marrying her after the detention centre crisis was over. " Roger laughed bitterly. "I should have known, right? With our names I should have seen it coming, but I didn't. Like I said before, Heather felt loyalty to the animals she worked with. She didn't want to blow the whistle, didn't want to cost people their jobs.

Rather than accepting that what she was doing served a higher purpose she went running off to the 'good reverend' Kroos who was only too willing to lend a sympathetic ear to a hot little piece only half his age. It wouldn't surprise me if the randy old goat was rooting her in his church." His voice rose in volume, "that dirty old goat was banging her in the church while I devoting my every energy into the plight of those refugees who our country treated worse than vermin!" Roger leapt from his chair in an excess of emotion, causing it to crash into a wall. Jane jerked back in terror and involuntary moan wrenched from his throat.

The reaction served to calm Roger a little and for a brief second there was a flash of guilt in his eye. "Sorry mate, didn't mean to scare you. It's just the thought of how that bitch betrayed me that sets me off."

Jane fought to recover his composure. "She did blow the whistle, though. She did what you asked."

Roger sighed. "Yeah she did, but then she told me we were through. That Kroos supported her through her dilemma and that she'd grown to have feelings for him. Feelings for some half crazed miner who probably jerked off into his bible each night! I was so angry when she told me I could barely see. I might have hit her, I dunno. I put her out of my mind because I had the breakout to stage and then soon after I was arrested and that was it. Ten years in the slammer, out in seven if I was a good boy."

Jane gazed keenly into Roger's face, trying to read every micro expression. "Seven years is a long time to carry a grudge. Why did you come back, what were you hoping to achieve?"

His captor sniffed. "I achieved exactly what I set out to do."

"No you didn't," said Jane softly. "Regardless of your anger, I don't see you as a natural born killer. You knew that there was nothing for you here… Why did you do it?"

The killer slowly smoothed his left hand down his pants, as if to wipe it clean. He nodded reluctantly. "You're right, I didn't mean for it to happen that way. I wanted to drag it out. Like in the novel. I wanted to torment that priest with his guilt."

"What went wrong?"

"I went over there just planning on making his acquaintance. Be friendly and gain his trust before I slowly started to twist the knife into his conscience. The bastard gave me nothing. The more I pushed the more he deflected any blame that might come his way. Eventually I lost it and as his back was turned on me mid sermon I just pulled out my knife and plunged it into his shoulder. " Roger smiled a twisted smile. "You have no idea how good it felt to stick that knife home, to get bloody revenge for what was taken from me.

Have you ever done that Patrick? Have you ever wanted to get even so badly it made your body shake?

I stuck that knife home and that bastard turned around and came at me like a madman. I just kept sticking him and sticking him until he went down, that sanctimonious bastard."

The air left Jane's body without him even noticing. It's as if he'd been there himself, sticking the knife home. "How did you feel afterwards?" he whispered.

Rogers shoulders slumped. "Once the adrenalin wore off I felt sick. I didn't really believe I was capable of killing until I actually did it." His face hardened. "I also felt cheated. He was meant to suffer like I did, all those years in prison knowing my woman was in the arms of that fraud. It was all over for him in under a minute and he went down fighting to the end. I wanted him guilt wracked and miserable, begging for death."

Jane stared at his captor, trying to come to terms with his visceral reaction to the story. With an effort he forced himself to continue engaging with Roger. "What about Derek Schaefer? To me that didn't feel like revenge. I'm guessing… Money?"

"Money," Roger sneered. "That's all Schaefer cared about. He was a warden at Mobilong where I did my time. I got him on board with talk of money. Filled him up with stories about how rich 'Crazy Willy' was, and that if he helped me I'd give him the opals.

It was easy to get him to quit his job and come here, act as a spy for me. Made sure that when I got here I had everything scoped out. Where she lived, what she did, Her routines. All without me having to give myself away. "

Jane tried to shift his weight subtly as Roger talked, trying to find a comfortable position with his hands tied behind his back and sitting in a cheap uncomfortable chair. "So what went wrong with Schaefer?"

"Money," said Roger wryly. When Derek heard that Kroos was dead he was immediately worried about what would happen to his cut. Then someone, you? Made a fuss about having found the opals in Kroos' safe. He demanded I help him get the opals or he would rat me out. I organised to meet him earlier tonight, told him I had a plan for getting him what he wanted."

He looked at Jane with an expression that was part haunted, part vicious. "This time I went with the intent to kill. It went a lot easier. I guess it's true the first time is always the hardest. "

A chill went right through Jane as he felt himself squarely in the sights of his captor. "I really hope you don't plan on killing me," he said honestly. "At this point I don't see how it can help you and despite everything you've said, I don't think you enjoy the act."

Roger sighed and smoothed a hand down his tired face. The simple act seemed to drain all the anger and resolve from his body. He looked at Jane with haunted eyes. "What do you suggest I do? Patrick? I've had my vengeance and Heather still isn't mine. She never will be. How did I get from being a humanitarian fighting for other's freedom to a multiple murderer in hiding? Why am I in this situation? Why did Heather have to betray me?

A small noise from outside caught Jane's attention. He quickly focussed back on his captor. He needed to buy just a little more time. "Lack of empathy," he said with great certainty."

Roger stared at him, puzzled. "What?"

Jane repeated his judgement. "I said lack of empathy. You were motivated by high ideals but they were more abstract than practical. Intellectually you felt the great injustice done to the detainees but were you to have lived among them you would have been filled with disgust.

Likewise with Heather you were drawn by the literary symmetry or near symmetry of your names but when Heather needed you to see things from her point of view you had no patience for it. You were so uncaring you managed to push her into the arms of Kroos, whom if I'm any judge, was only capable of showing empathy thanks to his religious training."

Roger leapt from his chair and stalked over to Jane. "Lack of empathy? What sort of bullshit armchair psychology is that? You don't know the first thing about me." He punctuated each word with a wave of the knife that passed disconcertingly close to Jane's torso.

Sweat beaded on Jane's forehead but he forced himself to marshal his full powers of cold reading. "What do I know about you? Your parents were born out of state but moved here because of their jobs. They were academics. You were an only child. They devoted a lot of time to your upbringing, were always available to you but they were cold. Even as a small child they treated you like an adult.

At school you didn't have a lot of friends but the ones you had were close due to a shared passion such as footy-cards or music. All of your friendships ended after a bad falling out due to a disagreement on the thing that was the foundation of your friendship. Footy-cards, music, etc. etc."

As Jane spoke he saw that Rigsby enter the room, followed closely by Lisbon and Cho. He forced his body to not respond in any way and locked eyes with his subject all the better to keep him distracted though it was clear his words alone were hitting home.

Keeping his voice steady, Jane continued his read. "You did well at school, your parents and the tutors they hired saw to that and you went to University. Not attending was not an option ever discussed or entertained. Uni life was something of a revelation for you. The drinking, partying and general disrespect for authority. It made you feel alive and you fell in with the most extreme activist groups. Initially to meet girls but also because you found the sense of rebellion intoxicating.

You didn't have much luck with the girls in that set so you set your sites on the quiet types. You also settled on a passion for civil justice and switched you major to something like the political sciences. You met Hester, sorry Heather when you'd been a post graduate for a number of years. She brought out the best in you and your passion excited her because she had no strong beliefs herself. If you take the time to reflect you'll see how you replicated your upbringing in your relationship with Heather. Her as the child and you as the parent.

With the added benefit of sex, of course," said Jane with a smirk as Rigsby expertly seized Chillingworth's knife arm and tackled him to the ground. Shouting at Roger to drop his knife, Cho and Lisbon quickly advanced, firearms cleared but kept pointed safely away. Taken completely by surprise and disoriented by his fall and the noise, Roger immediately complied and was efficiently cuffed and searched.

Lisbon moved over to Jane, concern marked deeply in her face. "Was there anyone else?" He shook his head. "Are you hurt?" She asked in a softer voice. Jane just smiled and shook his head again. His partner visibly relaxed. "OK then. Kimball let the RAAF MPs know they can drop the road block, we have apprehended the suspect. Ask them if there's anywhere secure he can be held overnight".

Roger turned his head and stared at Jane in shock. "You knew they were coming?"

Jane's relieved expression turned cocky. "I wasn't 100% sure but I was hopeful. You definitely had me scared, I don't think I've seen a more beautiful site than Wayne coming through the door." He aimed a cheeky smile at his boss. "Sorry Teresa, but he came through first."

Lisbon snorted in amusement. "Just for that I ought to leave you tied up in that chair. At least I'll know where you are."

Her consultant's face turned plaintive. "Well that's no way to treat the hero of the hour. Besides, how can I board the first flight out of here as per orders?"

His partner was about to come back with another quip when she noticed blood trickling down the side of his temple. "You're hurt!" Said Lisbon accusingly as she leaned closer to tenderly inspect the wound.

"Meh," said Jane dismissively as Rigsby straightened up by pushed roughly off Roger's prone body and then worked to free Jane of his bonds. "He dazed me for a second but I'm completely fine." He stood up and then nearly fell down as a severe case of pins and needles assailed his legs. Rigsby steadied him. "I might just have a little rest against this wall. You all carry on and, uh, process the killer."

The next two hours were exceedingly busy for the team as they organised the incarceration of Chillingworth and took an uncooperative Jane to see Dr. Kreuzer who diagnosed a mild concussion and a day's bed rest for the consultant. Jane protested that he was perfectly fine and grew insistent that he be allowed to fly out in the morning. Lisbon resisted the powerful temptation to call his bluff and insisted that she had no choice but to keep him for an extra day as it was now an OH&S issue.

Rigsby was pressed into service again, having to take Jane back to his apartment to ensure he went to bed. The rest of team also turned in, exhausted after a long day. Later that morning would be soon enough for writing up reports and officially handing over Roger into the custody of the Federal Police. They would escort him to Adelaide to stand trial before the Crown.

Lisbon literally fell into bed after a perfunctory shower. The case was solved, Jane and the rest of the team were safe, lesser worries could wait until after she caught up on some sleep.

It was late in the morning and team was gathered together for a celebratory breakfast at the Eldo. Lisbon was trying to enjoy a second cup of sub-standard coffee, Cho was reading a day old newspaper while Van Pelt and Rigsby were talking quietly. Jane appeared to be asleep in his chair, a half full cup of tea before him.

Wayne nudged Grace. "This place is starting to creep me out. It's like we see the same faces over and over again in slightly different situations. That woman there was cleaning my room this morning and that guy was an attendant at the gym."

"I know!" Grace agreed. But at the same time it feels familiar, like I've seen it before in a movie."

"It's like The Truman Show," said Cho without looking up from his paper. Lisbon grinned but remained silent. The morning's quiet was shattered by the sound of an exited little girl running into the dining hall. Jane snapped awake as Pearl pleaded with her mother to be allowed to have Coco Pops for breakfast.

He stood up and gave a tiny wave to his colleagues before moving off to join mother and daughter. Lisbon watched surreptitiously as Jane knelt down to talk with Pearl. After a few minutes entertaining the girl he stood up and spoke conspiratorially with Heather for a few moments. He then clasped her hand in both of his and turned to re-join the team. It was only because Lisbon knew her consultant so well that she saw Heather follow Jane with her eyes for a few seconds before looking down at her handbag in surprise.

"What was all that about?" She asked her consultant.

"Oh nothing, just saying my goodbyes," said Jane breezily.

Lisbon quirked a half smile. "Let me guess, you tried to warn her off having relationships with controlling men."

Jane smiled in genuine appreciation. "You know me too well, my dear Teresa. It looks like I've lost the capacity to surprise you." At his words Lisbon cut him a suspicious sidewise glance but Jane's charming smile never wavered. There was no way he was telling her he'd given Heather the combination to Kroos' safe.

Later that day the team recorded a formal confession from Chillingworth while Lisbon updated their case file and reported in to Bertram. The head of the CBI expressed pleasure at the rapidity with which they'd closed the case. Lisbon thanked her lucky stars that no complaints had made their way to Bertram's ears. She also congratulated herself on her foresight in keeping Jane quarantined from the military personnel who would have been far less tolerant of his antics.

After that she went for a long run, despite the heat. Jane had managed to circumvent his banishment, though at least it was in a way that didn't directly undermine her authority. Nevertheless she felt no closer to finding a way forward that would be acceptable to both of them.

He had gone off as usual and kept some information to himself. The only redeeming aspect of the previous night had been his text message filling her in on his plans. She shuddered as she recalled seeing him helpless before the unstable killer. Jane's first case since his return could so easily have been his last.

In the mid-afternoon the Federal Police arrived having driven up from Adelaide. Cho handed Chillingworth over into their custody, while Lisbon handed over their case notes and briefed them on the events of the previous two days. With that their official involvement in the case was over. Cho headed over to the military base to catch up with RAAF acquaintances he'd made on some joint exercises form his army days. Lisbon had already given Van Pelt and Rigsby the afternoon off to visit a nearby opal mine.

Lisbon spent the remainder of the afternoon wandering through Woomera village and purchasing a few amusing postcards to send to her brothers. As she wrote she looked forward to her annual visit to Melbourne where she caught up with all of them.

Jane had gone unsighted for the day. On the available evidence it appeared he'd obeyed Lisbon's demand that he rest up from his injury. Lisbon resisted the urge to check up on him, not wanting to risk anther difficult conversation on his behaviour and their working future.

A problem ignored was not a problem solved, however. As Lisbon made her way back to her apartment after a solitary meal at the Eldo, she saw Jane sitting outside the apartment adjoining hers. He was gazing up at the sky but quickly turned his attention to her at the sound of her footsteps.

"Ah Teresa, just the person I was hoping to see. Grab your car keys, I have something I want to show you." He got up and went into his apartment and quickly emerged with a large carry bag. Lisbon was still trying to work out what Jane was up to as he breezed past her towards the ute as if her coming was a foregone conclusion.

Lisbon frowned at his presumptuousness and took out the keys to her flat. She was still mad at him and damned if she was just going to follow him around on some half arsed whim. She threw her bag on the kitchenette table and poured herself a glass of water from the pitcher in the fridge. Resolutely not peering out her window she went into the bathroom and splashed some water on her face. She had showered after her run but it didn't take long to feel sticky in the heat and dust of Woomera.

Subconsciously her hands began fixing her hair and when she realised this she gave a frustrated huff. She was just delaying the inevitable and wherever Jane wanted to take her would surly give them a chance to go through the ground rules contingent for his continued association with the team.

She strode to her front door and looked out onto the street. Jane was leaning casually against the passenger side of the ute, seemingly without a care in the world as he waited in the dark. "I'll be 10 minutes," she called, slamming her front door behind her.

Jane smiled as he heard her stomp to her bathroom and then shortly later the hiss of water from the shower. He settled himself more comfortably against the car and smiled in anticipation of what he had in mind. A glance at the sky confirmed this one going to be one of his better ideas.

Exactly 15 minutes later Lisbon emerged from her apartment. Jane nodded in appreciation at the quick turnaround time. Lisbon was not the kind of woman to keep someone needlessly waiting for her to finish primping and preening. Lisbon glanced at the driver's side of the ute and Jane nodded imperceptibly. Both got in without saying a word.

Lisbon buckled herself in and then quirked and eyebrow at Jane. He grinned and nodded in the direction of the main road. As they left the outskirts of Woomera, Lisbon raised another questioning eyebrow. Enjoying the game immensely, Jane had to stifle a quick burst of appreciative laughter. Thinking quickly, he pointed at his wrist and then flashed five fingers three times in succession.

A smile dimpled Lisbon's cheek as she settled herself more comfortably in her seat and accelerated them to 100kph along the desolate, dusty road. A companionable silence settled on the cabin as both watched the featureless road through the utility's headlights. The very slight undertone of competition merely added spice to the atmosphere. Despite their differences, both were often surprised by how much fun they could have together without even having to try.

After the allotted time had passed Jane lightly touched Lisbon's shoulder and with a nod of his head indicated pulling over to the slide of the road. Lisbon had already anticipated the directive and was slowing the car. With a crunch of rocks they came to a stop and Lisbon ratcheted up the handbrake. She released her belt, crossed her arms across her chest and angled herself to face Jane in the faintly illuminated cabin.

Her friend nodded in concession and finally broke the silence. "Before we do anything else, I want to say thank you."

Lisbon's expression lightened. "Oh? What exactly for?"

Jane's demeanour turned from serious to cheeky. "I'm sure you can think of lots of reasons I should be thanking you. Take your top one."

"Well, thanks," she said drily. "Mind explaining why we're out here in the middle of no-where? "

Jane picked up the bag at his feet and got out of the car. "C'mon, I want to show you something."

Teresa laughed nervously. "This had better not be the local make-out spot…"

Jane responded with a smile that had a hint of nervousness to it. "Please. We're a long time out of high school." He scanned the ground as he walked and after a dozen paces seemed to find what he was looking for. The air was warm and a breeze ruffled his unruly hair. Working quickly he kicked a few rocks aside and then pulled a thick picnic blanket from his bag and placed it onto the ground. With a slight groan he got himself into a reclining position on his back, propped up on one elbow. He gestured for Lisbon to join him.

She hesitated for a second, assessing the situation. What exactly was Jane playing at? If she didn't know Jane better she'd assume this was some sort of attempt at seduction. Jane looked at her challengingly while patting the blanket next to him. Lisbon shook her head. He knew exactly what she was thinking. Bastard.

With poor grace Lisbon joined her consultant on the blanket, careful to keep a respectable distance between them. Jane smiled indulgently. He would never get tired of riling her up. "There, that isn't so bad," he said. "Now I want you to close your eyes and lie back." Suiting actions to words he lay down and shut his eyes. Lisbon stared at the man next to her in growing puzzlement. This couldn't be what she thought it was, but if not then what on earth was it about?

Without even opening his eyes Jane spoke. "C'mon Teresa, I promise not to cop a feel."

Lisbon restrained the impulse to whap him in the chest. "That's disgusting. O.K fine." She lay down and glanced sideways at her peacefully reclining companion and then closed her eyes.

Jane shifted to move clear of a rock that was digging into his arm. "Ok. Now just relax. Keep your eyes closed and use your other senses to tune into your surroundings."

Almost as if a switch had flicked in Lisbon's mind she stopped questioning everything and went with the flow. She shifted into a more comfortable position and forced herself to truly listen. The desert was eerily quiet. Apart from the wind blowing she could hear the faint pings of the engine cooling. The air smelt dusty but clean, with just a hint of the soap she'd used earlier. It was surprisingly restful to disconnect from the world of people, noise and technology. She felt herself being to relax.

Almost as if sensing the moment Jane spoke. "Excellent. Now, on the count of three I want you to open your eyes and look at the sky. One, two, three…" Lisbon opened her eyes and gasped. The cloudless night sky was literally dripping with stars, it was as if their light was pouring directly into her brain. Free from the pollution of man-made illumination the stars jumped out with a vividness she'd never experienced. An endless field of diamonds lay arrayed before her on a cloth of deepest sable.

Lisbon's mouth was open in a silent 'O'. Finally she managed to whisper "Oh my God…" Jane smiled across at Lisbon before crossing his arms behind his head to get into a more comfortable viewing position. Lisbon did the same. It was the only sound either of them made for some minutes.

Jane eventually broke the silence. "It's amazing, isn't it. When Roger was dragging me along the ground of the detention centre I could see up into the sky and was struck with how beautiful it was and how much I didn't want to die. When I listened to him talking about his need for vengeance it put certain things in perspective for me. When I thanked you just before there was something specific I had in mind..."

Jane paused while trying to find the right words. Lisbon, for once, was patient. Jane fixed his gaze on her in that intense way which made her forget the rest of the world existed. "I wanted to thank-you for stopping me from killing… Red John."

Lisbon's face trembled with suppressed emotion as she remembered that day. "I didn't really stop you," she managed to get out.

Jane smiled knowingly. "Yes you did. You did it slowly, gradually just by being the person you are, for giving me hope and a purpose in life. You did it so slowly I didn't even realise it. I was going to kill him right up to the second you called my name." Jane's face turned serious. "It took me some time to work through how I felt about you causing me to lose my resolution to kill. Finally, today, I was glad. So thank you."

Lisbon turned away and wiped at the corner of her eye. She stared sightlessly at the horizon and then sniffed. "I'm really glad you didn't go through with it, Patrick. Really, really glad."

Jane sighed in relief and then turned his attention back to the stars. "Ok then." A comfortable silence stretched out between them.

"My father used to do a bit of star gazing," Lisbon began hesitantly. "Before… things went bad. He taught me the constellations. Just the obvious ones, like the Southern Cross, Andromeda, Pegasus and the like. I gotta say, though, this looks a lot more impressive than what we saw out of a backyard in Croydon."

Jane nodded. "I memorised all the constellations associated with astrology, kind of a basic requirement for the psychic trade but I never saw the beauty in it until now. It stirs the soul, doesn't it. "

Lisbon turned to look at Jane. "It does. Patrick, you know we're going to have to talk about how we are going to work together going forward."

Jane sighed. "I know. I did send you that text."

Lisbon chuckled wryly. "It's a process, isn't it."

Jane nodded enthusiastically. "That's right. Don't give up on me yet. But let's not discuss work right now." He reached into the bag next to him and pulled out two bottles of chilled beer, beaded with condensation. He passed one to Lisbon who took it appreciatively. Jane took a pull on his bottle, the amber nectar was marvellously refreshing in the hot night air. He resumed his theme as Lisbon put her bottle to her lips. "Yes, this night is too magnificent for work. Let us instead fill it with laughter and poetry."

Lisbon nearly spat out a mouthful of beer. "Poetry! You might have that covered but I didn't spend my time at the academy learning iambic pentameters and the like."

"Oh well played, Teresa," said Jane, highly amused at her sharpness. "However, I think you know a lot more poetry than you think."

His partner shook her head. "No, really I don't."

"Yes you do. Songs can be seen as poetry set to music."

Lisbon grinned. "Oh really? Tell that to Paul Lekakis." On seeing Jane's confused expression she took on a more serious tone and with dramatic hand gestures declaimed: "Boom. Boom. Boom. Let's go back to my room."

Jane's mouth opened and shut silently for a few seconds before he could muster a response. "I lay tapestry of the universe before your admiring gaze and this is how you repay me! You truly have the soul of a cop… Ooof!" He cried out as Lisbon dug a retaliatory elbow into his ribs. They glared at each other with mock anger before bursting out in laughter.

"Shut up and drink your beer," said Lisbon affectionately." For the first time since the start of the case she allowed herself to feel optimistic about Janes future with the CBI. Despite Jane nearly getting himself killed they had solved the case in record time. Additionally, she had made it clear to him that crossing the line was unacceptable.

She took in the celestial majesty of the sky above. Now here she was drinking a cold beer while star gazing with her best friend. This was surely something worth fighting for.