A/N: So we're coming near the end of this one too. Just after I finished Army of Me as well, dammit. There's just one chapter and epilogue left to upload now.

Thank you to: shadow (thank you so much! But this is all pre-written as it was for Summer Secret Santa. I just didn't want to upload it all in one go and overwhelm people.), Frogster, Jisbon4ever, autumnftw and dogeatdog (thanks! I hope you enjoy this chapter as much as the last) for reviewing part eight. And to Divinia Serit for betaing. It's much appreciated.

x tromana

Part Nine

He'd spent all night thinking and the only plausible, or at least workable, plan he could think of was to be completely up front with her. Anything else, any hint of subordination would make her throw up her defenses and would mean they landed up progressing backwards rather than forwards. Part of Jane wished he could have more subtlety in the plan, but he there was nothing else he could do. At least meeting her in her own home would mean she felt safe and secure. Lisbon would be able to rage and scream and shout without fear of embarrassment and that was the main thing. Of course, she was unlikely to believe him at first either, but he hoped he would be able to persuade her to let him hypnotize her. Lisbon had let him put her in a light trance once before, so she was likely to be more receptive to the idea now, wasn't she?

Still, when he was standing on her doorstep, he found himself shaking a little and that his palms were sweaty. Automatically, he wiped them on his pants before knocking. It took a couple of attempts before she answered, but that didn't surprise him. Lisbon was probably wondering who the hell was calling at such an unsociable hour. She certainly wouldn't be expecting him of all people, who she was due to see two hours later at work. When the door finally open, she didn't seem too disconcerted and instead, just welcomed him into her home. He needed tea, or at least something to occupy his hands with. Immediately, headed straight to her kitchen and switched on the kettle. Stifling a yawn, he pulled out two cups, keeping his hands busy and remaining in total silence. He still wasn't sure whether or not bringing it up today was such a good idea. But if he didn't, then maybe Cho would beat him to it - he couldn't trust the Asian agent and his conscience. This was information she would find hard to swallow regardless of who it came from. She merely smiled when he handed over a steaming cup of his favorite blend and Jane began to feel a little guilty. Lisbon was clearly in a very good mood and he was about to ruin it, with little choice about it either way.

This was just about as difficult as he anticipated. The silence that enveloped them was suffocating and he hated the way that he just couldn't be at ease with her, couldn't talk and bicker and tease as he normally would. If only things could still be as easy as that. Ever since his latest meeting with Pierre, he knew that it was never going to be quite the same again. Heck, he couldn't quite look at her like he used to. Would she feel the same if he murdered Red John? Jane sighed. There was no point in thinking about that, it wasn't the most important issue right now. Obviously sensing the silence, Lisbon broke it, bringing up Bosco. Jane wanted desperately to let out a hollow laugh. She was assuming that he wanted information from the Red John case and for her to get it for him. It was almost sweet, in a way, just how naïve she was. Given the opportunity, Jane would pay good money for things to be that simple though.

"What were things like, between you and Tommy?" he asked tentatively, hoping that she would actually tell the truth instead of a version clearly embellished by rose-tinted glasses.

"Alright," she replied with a shrug and he almost wanted to breathe a sigh of relief. Lisbon was making no attempt to try to deceive him. "Until he joined the gang."

"That hurt, right?"

"Of course it did," she snapped.

As expected, Lisbon immediately threw up barriers the moment he mentioned the wedge that had been present between her and her brother. Clearly, she felt guilty for not forgiving him for joining the gang, though Jane knew full well that she never would have done so until he either left or died. She was expecting some wondrous Cho-like change in the man and from the bits and pieces he knew about Thomas Lisbon, Jane doubted that would have ever happened. Their rift was one that simply would not have healed what with how stubborn both sides were. It was clear that Lisbon loved her brother; she just couldn't condone his actions while he was carrying out the activities he did and therefore shunned him instead. He had a feeling it was a similar kind of reaction his mother had when she'd found out that his father had begun to teach him how to not only read people, but to fleece money out of the careless, foolish and just plain desperate.

Again, it wasn't as subtle as it could have been, but he had a feeling she would just try and distance herself further if he didn't bring it up soon. He had to mention that missing memory there and then. Lisbon's body completely stiffened as she stood and moved over to her kitchen, to place the half empty mug in her sink. The action was superfluous, merely an excuse to get away from him without resorting to kicking him out of her home. She looked a little troubled, almost as if she hated herself for simply not being able to remember one small thing.

It went from bad to worse when Lisbon realized he was essentially accusing her of murder. Immediately, she crossed her arms, holding onto her forearms tightly and shook slightly. He hadn't even brought up Pierre's revelation yet, it just didn't seem like the right time. Instead, he suggested hypnosis and automatically closed the gap between them. Gently he reached for her left shoulder, to just brush his fingers against it and offer that little bit of comfort she clearly needed.

Instead, she turned on her heels and her fist connected with his nose.

He'd always known she could pack a punch and that she'd spent years training, building up her upper body strength. Jane never envied the suspects she punched or floored in the line of duty and had often found it amusing, seeing them pinned to the ground by a woman half their size or reeling from the blow of her right fist.

Not this time, though. This time it merely hurt.

000

It was a lovely morning.

A lovely, perfectly normal morning.

The sun was just peeking from behind her curtains, basking her in warm light, though not too bright to cause her any discomfort. She had slept well, better than she had for a very long while and was looking forward to a good, hard day's work. Okay, so the case wasn't quite yet closed, but what with Jane having done some 'investigative' work on his own last night, she felt like they were close to making that all-important break. And then, it would only be a matter of time until they made an arrest and closed the damn thing.

Then, she would feel more comfortable telling her brothers that their sibling was dead because she would know who the bastard who was responsible for it was and could tell them too.

Lisbon stretched, relishing in the feel of certain muscles moving for the first time that day. Briefly, she glanced at her alarm clock; she had plenty of time to get ready for work. As she stood, she decided that all in all, it was likely to be a good day - nothing should be able to bring her down. Not even mystery gunshot wounds or confusing bullet casings. Sooner or later, she'd be able to work out where they came from, it was merely a matter of time. Instead, she just pushed it to the back of her mind. There was little point in worrying about it now when she had far more important things to focus on. Like her upcoming meeting with Minelli. Shortly after her bath last night, the director had called her, demanding that she dropped by his office first thing in the morning. His tone had been rather short - something else which was disconcerting - but she vowed not to let it trouble her. Lisbon had had enough woes to last a lifetime and there was no point in adding to them if she could at all help it. Besides, it was probably just a minor quibble; something that would take merely seconds to sort out. She'd probably forgotten to sign a CR2 form or something. Yes, that was more than likely to be it.

She had only just finished changing into her work clothes when she heard an incessant tapping at her front door. Frowning, Lisbon headed downstairs as quickly as possible. Visitors rarely dropped by before (or after) work, partially because she was usually so busy. She supposed it could be the deliveryman, but she wasn't expecting any parcels. The mystery person knocked again, more determinedly, clearly impatient and Lisbon eventually answered the door. When she saw it was Jane trying to knock her door down, she wasn't entirely bothered, mainly because she was in such a good mood. Jane followed her inside, remaining uncharacteristically mute and headed straight towards her kitchen and kettle. As well as she felt, he looked completely exhausted and tired. He didn't say anything to her until he had made them both a cup of tea and they were settled on their couch, both sipping at the hot liquids.

"Jane, we don't have time for this, we've got work," she muttered, realizing time was quickly slipping away. "I've got a meeting with Minelli at…"

"This is more important."

"What is?"

Lisbon watched warily as Jane placed the tea back down and suddenly, everything didn't feel as great as it did just half an hour ago. She stared at him and it didn't take her long to realize that he, Patrick Jane, was actually nervous. That was something that happened so rarely that it made her feel a little nervous too - he was only ever concerned if there was a justifiable reason to be so. She shook her head, quickly deciding there was no reason to feed off of his emotions. He was probably overreacting about something. Maybe Bosco wasn't telling him something about the Red John case and wanted to use her and her links to the man to try and coerce it out of him? That would explain the early morning visit, before she even had a chance to see Bosco.

"If you want me to talk to Bosco about…"

"This isn't about Bosco."

"What?"

He immediately followed up by asking about her brother and Lisbon knew she should have expected that. Jane didn't do anything without ulterior motives. She didn't like it when Jane started needling her for unnecessary information though. She'd honestly thought that he'd learned the meaning of the word 'boundaries' and it always saddened her whenever she found that he failed to meet her expectations. It was frustrating as well; she'd thought that since he'd started working with her team (with her) that he'd learned to become a better person. Also, that he'd given up on his thankless quest to kill Red John. The disappointment that things hadn't changed never really got any easier.

"You never answered me," he started lightly and Lisbon automatically knew the sentence could only end badly. "Do you really remember what happened on the night your brother died?"

She stood and quickly strode over to her kitchen. Though it made little difference and Lisbon knew he could quite easily follow her, it felt better to put the distance between them. Like the barrier of air could protect her from his insistent barrage of questions.

"You don't, do you?"

She shook her head.

"I think, that maybe…"

"I'm responsible?" she hissed, anger flashing in her eyes. "That's why you're here, isn't it? Cornering me somewhere I supposedly feel safe and secure rather than at work?"

And yet, she knew he was talking sense, but he wasn't. How could he be? She wasn't a murderer. She didn't kill people and certainly not her own brother. But he was right, it all slotted together so neatly, like a jigsaw puzzle

Missing one piece.

Her memory.

It scared her, not remembering stuff.

She'd seen it before, in her father.

Taken every step feasibly possible to avoid turning into him.

Obviously, fate was playing a cruel game and whatever happened, she was doomed to be like him. What was it they said? That the apple never fell far from the tree?

Her Dad hadn't just been a drunk after her Mom's death.

He'd gone completely mad.

Was that what was happening to her now? Minus the alcohol abuse?

Was she just wearing a façade, one that only Patrick Jane could see through?

She shook her head. That was absolute nonsense. She was fine.

She. Was. Fine.

"Maybe if we just put you in a light trance, then…"

There was a crack as her fist came into contact with his nose. Milliseconds later, blood was pouring down his face and he threw his head back, pinching the bridge of his nose, clearly in attempt to stem the flow.

Obviously not such a lovely morning anymore.

TBC…