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Chapter Ten
January 6-7, 2003
Jane was thankful to be returning back to Sacramento, even more so now that he had had an argument with Angela the night before. It was not an uncommon thing for Angela to decide to nag him about changing his profession to do something a bit more honourable, as they were most likely going to get caught rather soon due to keeping this up for way too long. Of course, he had told her, they had nothing to worry about. She was worrying over nothing. So, instead of flying this time, he had decided to drive the long distance in the mere hours of the morning. He felt bad about not being there to greet Charlotte in the morning, but he figured that Angela would have no problem explaining his absence.
Sighing to himself, he clutched the steering wheel tighter and continued towards Sacramento. He'd be there in two more hours, tops, and he couldn't wait to wait around there for three or so days by the poolside. Yes, he had told Angela that the CBI had called him and needed him. It was false, and he was sure she didn't believe him anyway, but that was all right. She sometimes didn't believe him even if there was an actual case.
And then there was Lisbon. The very nature of their relationship was different in comparison to his others. And as he hadn't seen her for almost a month, (the CBI called him twice, he told them he had pneumonia) he doubted that she hadn't forgotten about how they had parted last time, as it wasn't on the best of terms. So, a nice vacation away from both his wife and Lisbon seemed ideal at the moment.
Two hours later, he arrived in Sacramento. It was too early for him to check into any type of hotel, so he went off to find some good eggs for breakfast and wait.
In the mere hours of the morning, Lisbon didn't like to be awakened by her phone. Especially if Martin was on the other end these days. Lately he had been upset about not being able to get Jane to come on the last two cases of which they needed his assistance. He had pneumonia, apparently. Lisbon thought that was a bunch of crap, especially because she had seen him on television later that night, perfectly healthy.
Well, she'd rather be fast asleep in bed than be here, at a crime scene, scribbling in her notepad. In a state park, a young woman was found shot to death. The woman, no more than twenty-five, had three shots in a perfect triangle formation right over her heart. Whoever had done this was practiced with firearms and found this murder to be personal.
She watched as the coroner leaned over the deceased woman, taking fingerprints and samples from underneath her fingernails. When the coroner was done, he smoothed down the dead girl's blonde hair and started to stand up, sealing away the samples. The coroner, Dr. McArthur, gave Lisbon a weak smile before he started to head back to his van, firing off orders as to what has to be done with the body.
At the coroner's departure, Lisbon took a deep breath and turned around to take in the sight. It was busy and morning traffic was just beginning to rush in. And of course, curious pedestrians had to stop and gawk at the dead body and all the police.
"Lisbon!" she heard Martin shout. "Control the civilians, please!"
With a nod and a "Yes sir," Lisbon was on her way to control keep the pedestrians from either taking shortcuts through the state park or to stop them from taking pictures with their "fancy" digital cameras. Either way, she had to be stuck with the boring work.
Wasn't the new rookie supposed to do this sort of stuff?
On his way from the diner to the hotel, Jane ran into a familiar face. Well, an old client, that is. An inebriated old client to be more specific, and Jane wasn't surprised that Toby Mulvie was drunk. That was one of the main reasons why Toby even saw him – to help him cope with the loss of his wife, Callie, and keep him from drinking his days away.
Callie Mulvie had died of breast cancer about seventeen years ago, leaving behind her husband (already an alcoholic man) and daughter. Toby, unable to cope and a former soldier, resorted back to drinking away his sorrows and taking out all his pained emotions on his young daughter, Sasha.
One of the main reasons why Jane even started letting a man like Toby see him was because of Sasha. The girl, young at that time, was a gem. She always had a positive attitude despite her father's violent alcoholism and the untimely death of her mother and found it easy, to an extent, to cope with the pain. Sasha Mulvie also had a passion for baking blueberry muffins, and Jane loved to eat them as much as she loved making them.
The second reason was because Toby had a large sum of money in his bank account due to his mother and wife's deaths. He almost cleaned out Toby Mulvie's bank account during that time, but he hoped there were no hard feelings. After all, he "connected" the Mulvie's to the late Callie.
Out of the pure goodness of his heart (and about forty dollars), Jane sat in the sitting room of the Mulvie house. And Jane did not like what he saw. The house, stale and musky, was littered with bottles of whiskey and tequila. There were a couple of broken shot glasses lying haphazardly around the floor combined with wrappings from fast food chain restaurants. There was also a large amount of dirty laundry lying around.
"'orry 'bout the mess, 'Trick," Toby slurred. "'Sha 'zually 'as it cleaned up a'bit."
Hiccup
Jane smiled. "No problem, Toby. How have you been?" He really didn't care about the man, but he was also wondering if he could get some money out of him before he left him.
"'m fine. A l'il tired ta be 'on-est."
Hiccup
The place also smelled like alcohol. And a lot of it.
"'Sha's kid gives me a head…" he trailed off for a few seconds before remembering what he ought to say. "Ache."
Jane raised an eyebrow. "Sasha has a kid?"
Toby nodded clumsily. "Yesh. Ann-oying l'il bitch, tha kid."
"Toby…"
Even though Jane really didn't give a damn about Toby Mulvie, he did about Sasha. He had assumed that Sasha lived elsewhere and visited occasionally, as she was nowhere to be seen. And now that Sasha apparently had a baby, it made him even more worried.
"Toby, where is the kid? Where is the baby?"
Toby rolled his eyes and reached for a half-empty bottle of whiskey. "I dunno. Good rid-dance."
Leaning back into a moth-eaten sofa, Jane thought for a couple of moments. Something was not right, and he had a bad feeling about this whole situation.
She hated crowd-control duty. Not only did it bring the worst out in her, but also it greatly annoyed her. And because it happened on a Monday morning this time around, she knew this week was to be doomed.
Taking a few moments to get a breather, Lisbon leaned up against a skinny tree and closed her eyes. Crossing her arms over her chest and still clutching onto her notepad, Lisbon let her mind begin to drift towards the future. And all her thoughts led up to her shaking Minelli's hand and accepting the position as senior agent.
At the thought of becoming senior agent one day, her lips quirked up in a smile and her mood increased only slightly. While she was in the middle of taking in a breath, she heard a noise from a bush behind her. Pausing and cracking open one eye, she scanned her surroundings. Everything was the same as it had been just moments ago, so she saw no harm in reclosing her eyes. But as her eyelids were about to meet, she heard the rustling noise again followed by a whimper.
This time, her eyes snapped open completely and she whirled around in search of the source of the noise. Peering into the bush behind her, she faintly saw pink fabric. Quickly, Lisbon got on her hands and knees and parted the branches of the bush, ignoring the small scratch over her knuckles.
At the sight of a baby girl, dressed in pink with a little white bow on her head, Lisbon stopped. The girl looked scared, and at the sight of Lisbon began to whimper. Lisbon raised an eyebrow and began reaching for the girl, who started to pull away.
"Shh, you're all right," Lisbon cooed. "I've got you."
Grasping onto the little girl, she hoisted her out of the bush. Standing up, Lisbon looked around for a medic. When she spotted one, she looked down at the little girl's face before waving the medic over.
"Where did the baby come from?" the medic asked upon arrival.
Lisbon shrugged her shoulders and set the child down on the grass. "She was in the bushes."
The medic nodded and began looking at the girl. When he titled the baby's head to the side, that's when Lisbon saw it. On the side of the girl's head, there was a purple bruise. At the sound of her gasp and her gesture towards the mark, the medic turned the girl around and saw the bruise. Frowning, he gingerly felt around the mark, presumably looking for skull fractures.
"LISBON!"
Her head shot up at the sound of her name. Looking over her shoulder, she saw Martin coming towards her. And he didn't look happy.
Turning her body completely towards Martin, Lisbon braced her hands on her hips. "Yes sir?"
"The new rookie, Agent Cho, is starting today. I would like you to be back at the – is that a baby?"
Lisbon kept on nodding and looked down at the little girl lying on the grass, her onsie gone and sitting only in, from what Lisbon could tell, a soiled diaper. "Uh, yeah. I found her in the bushes."
Martin took a step back, waved his hand back and forth due to the smell, and looked up at Lisbon. "Do you think she's the murder victim's?"
Once again, Lisbon shrugged her shoulders. "It's possible."
"Change of plans, then. Wait here with the baby until social services comes around. I'm going to go tell Simmons to go back to headquarters."
Lisbon nodded. "Yes sir."
But then she realized why she was to look after the baby, or the most probable reason. And it was because she's female.
When Toby passed out after a superfluous amount of drinking, Jane had gotten up from the moth-bitten sofa and began to snoop around the house. By the time he had turned a corner, he already didn't like what he saw. There were more broken bottoms littered around in the hallway than in the sitting room, and next to one of them was a baby book.
Leaning down, Jane carefully picked up the small, thick baby book and held it in his hands. It reeked of alcohol, for one thing, and appeared as if it were waterlogged. Overall, it didn't look like it should even be in an alcoholic's lair. Turning it over, Jane caught a familiar title – a book he had read to Charlotte oh so many times when she was a baby.
Carefully, he tried to open the book, but accidentally split it open completely. Half of the book fell to the floor, lying against the alcoholic debris. The very sight seemed to have sucked any sort of happiness from Jane.
He ought to call the CBI.
With a sigh, he set the second half of the book down on the floor along with the first and stood up. Reaching into one of his pockets, he pulled out his cell phone and flipped it open. Without saying another word, he dialed Simmons' number and waited. The man picked up rather quickly, out of breath too, and Jane just wordlessly told him the address to the Mulvie house, hoping that Simmons would be smart enough to come over.
When he flipped the phone closed, he heard the sound of a bottle crunching underneath a boot. Whirling around, he saw Toby Mulvie standing behind him, a bottle, this one almost full, in hand.
"'Ya took ma money, you bastard!"
Jane raised his arms up in front of him and took a step back. "Toby, listen to me…"
"'YA TOOK MA MONEY!"
At the sound of the raised voice, Jane cringed. He took another step back to put even more distance between him and the still inebriated man. "Toby…"
"NO!"
"Toby, please listen to me. You don't want to do this."
Toby didn't say anything else. The drunk man extended his hand in an attempt to grab onto Jane. When Jane moved away from him, barely keeping his jacket out of the man's grasp, he stumbled over a full bottle on the floor. Fumbling to try and regain his step, he felt Toby grasp onto the back of his jacket. Eyes widening in alarm and heart pounding in his chest, Jane wiggled his way out of his jacket and took off down the hallway once more. If he could get into the bedrooms, lock it, and then go through a window, everything would be all right.
"C'OME BACK 'ERE, 'TRICK!" Toby roared from behind him.
He didn't stop to look back., but he knew that Toby wasn't far behind him. Even a few steps behind him, he could hear the drunken man's clumsy footsteps clamoring around and stepping upon the empty bottles.
"'TRICK!"
Jane only stopped to grasp onto the doorknob and push it open, even though it was just for a second. In his hurried state to open the door, Jane lost his balance and stumbled towards the bed in the middle of the room.
Eyes widening in shock and fear, he turned around to see Toby burling through the door, eyes now bloodshot and livid. Scrambling once more, Jane raced for the window, and just as he was about to reach it, he felt the back of his shirt collar be grabbed. Twisting his body around and trying to swing a feeble punch in the drunken man's direction, he was met with a fist in return.
His head snapped back when Toby's fist connected with his jaw. On instinct, Jane reached up and felt the pained area and looked at Toby for a moment, only to find that the drunken man's knee came up and connected with Jane's lower abdomen. Doubling over in pain, Jane knew immediately that he was not in a good position. With a furious sound, Toby's foot came in contact with the side of Jane's head, knocking him into an unconscious state.
It was just after noon when Lisbon was able to sit down for lunch. For the majority of the morning, Martin had had her on baby duty. And having to dote on a small child really worked up her appetite. Especially because her meager breakfast hardly filled her up all those hours ago.
Just as she was about to take a bite out of her ham and cheese sandwich, Simmons entered the kitchenette area. He looked perturbed as he stared down at his cell phone. Lisbon took a bite out of her sandwich, seeing nothing out of the ordinary. Simmons usually had trouble with modern-day technology.
"Someone called me today."
Lisbon nodded in response, her mouth still full of her sandwich. "It sounded a lot like Jane, too."
At the mention of the bane's existence, Lisbon slowed down her chewing. Jane normally didn't call Simmons; it was either her or Martin. Shrugging, she finished chewing and wrote it off that Jane couldn't possibly have called. Especially since he was back in Malibu with his family.
"Well, whoever it was, they left an address."
Glancing over at Simmons briefly, Lisbon shrugged her shoulders once more at the older agent. In return, he shrugged his own shoulders and started towards the refrigerator for his lunch when the new rookie, Cho, walked in. He had arrived around ten in the morning, as per Martin's request. Lisbon almost scoffed at his somewhat tardy arrival. (Martin had her at a crime scene before seven in the morning on her first day.)
"Who left an address?" Cho asked.
Martin looked over at the rookie. "I don't know. He sounded a lot like our consultant."
Cho didn't say anything; he just went towards the coffee pot as if he were on a mission. "It probably was," he said flatly.
Simmons quirked his eyebrow. "But our consultant lives in Malibu."
Cho poured himself a cup of coffee. "From what I've heard about Patrick Jane is that he tends to move around a lot without telling his supervising agents." He took a sip of his coffee.
"Jane always has reasons as to what he does, I think," Simmons countered. "There really isn't anything for him here in Sacramento. He's usually in San Francisco, Los Angeles, or in the general Burbank area."
"That's if he decides not to work a case with us," Lisbon mumbled right before she took another bite from her sandwich.
"Who works a case with us?"
Everyone in the room stopped and turned to see Martin and Minelli walking into the kitchenette. No doubt the duo was either trying to get themselves fresh cups of coffee or their own lunches. Either way, their arrival was most unexpected at this moment.
"Jane, sir," Simmons replied.
"What about him?"
"Well, he usually works the cases he wants, you know?"
Sighing and walking over to the refrigerator to pull out his lunch, Minelli nodded. "Yes, Jane does come and go as he pleases. But he's good at what he does."
Martin didn't say anything; he just went over to the coffee maker and poured himself a hearty cup of joe. He knew better than to argue with what Minelli thought about the SCU. Especially when it came to everyone's favourite consultant, Jane.
Clearing his throat, Simmons perked up. "Well, someone called me on my phone and left a message…"
Minelli merely raised his eyebrow, as if almost to tell Simmons that phones were supposed to receive calls these days. "And the guy on the other end sounded an awful lot like Jane, you see. He left a message too."
Without waiting for Minelli to answer him, Simmons pulled out his silver Nokia and flipped it open, searching through a couple of things before a familiar voice filled the small space of the kitchenette. There was no denying that the other man on the end was none other than Patrick Jane. He sounded preoccupied and almost bothered, something that was quite rare for the wily man.
When the message ended, the voice still lingering in the air by the time the automated voice filled the room. Lisbon felt a small sense of dread begin to bubble up in her stomach, as if something wasn't right. She set her sandwich down and looked over at Minelli for answers and then to Martin.
Furrowing his brow, Minelli set his lunch down at the counter and looked over at Martin. "Your consultant is in Sacramento and something doesn't feel right."
Martin nodded, taking in what his superior was telling him. "I want at least two of your people to go check out that address, Martin."
"Lisbon, Cho, you heard him. Check out the address."
Cho tipped his head slightly and walked towards the bullpen. Taking one last glance at her superior, Lisbon stuffed the remainder of her sandwich into her mouth, balled up the brown paper bag, and followed Cho to the bullpen. There she picked up her firearm and secured her holster.
Within moments later, she was driving towards the mysterious address alongside Kimball Cho.
His heard hurt and everything was fuzzy. Well, actually, saying that his heard hurt was putting things lightly. His head felt like someone had hit him with a metal baseball bat. He would know, as his brother-in-law, Danny, did it to him right before he and Angela ran off together.
Groaning and trying to sit up, Jane rubbed the side of his head, grimacing at the nice lump he felt beneath his fingers. Wincing when he felt a certain sensitive point, he tried harder to move into a sitting position, but found it difficult to move once he realized that his ribs were protesting any form of movement involving the torso.
"Bastard cracked something," he muttered under his breath as he grit his teeth and fought through the pain to sit up.
His breath heavy with exertion, he leaned back against the bed in the middle of the room, which he had been laying next to. Closing his eyes and trying to regain some form of breath, he clumsily reached into his jacket pocket and shakily removed his little cell phone. Holding it in his hand for a second, he flipped it open with his thumb and ran it over the glowing numbers.
There was no questioning it; he had to call someone that would be able to help him. He knew he had called Simmons earlier, but he didn't have enough faith that Simmons would have been able to press a few buttons here and there and actually get the message. He should have called Lisbon first and then Simmons second. If he had done that, he probably would not be in this mess.
Inhaling deeper once more, he opened his eyes and glided his thumb over the lit up numbers to make the call. Shakily, he held the phone up to his ear and waited. He was delighted to hear the phone ringing on the other end, but when Lisbon didn't answer, the pit in his stomach grew.
The house belonged to one Toby Mulvie, a widower and war veteran. He lived with his daughter, Sasha. There was also a record of a domestic violence suit filed, but revoked later on. And even though it had been revoked, it still worried Lisbon to some extent that Jane may be in some sort of trouble. Regardless of what he had said to her the last time she saw him.
Cho's cell phone rang when they were about halfway there. It was Simmons calling them. They were both perplexed that he was calling them, as they had just hung less than ten minutes earlier. He was calling to tell them that Toby's daughter, Sasha, was the woman they had found earlier that morning.
Dread had managed its way into her stomach once more and she sped up the car just a little bit. Not only was Toby Mulvie their top suspect, but also a (not so innocent) civilian was in danger if Toby turned out to be their man.
When they arrived and pulled up to the curb, the hunch within her intensified. She looked over at Cho and titled her head to the side. "Call for backup."
Cho nodded at her and picked up the radio. As he was doing that, she stepped out of the SUV and headed across the half-dead yard towards the front door. She jumped a little when she heard Cho close the car door behind him, but faced forward once more and reached for her gun as she rang the doorbell.
After twenty seconds of no answer, Lisbon rung the doorbell once more. She only waited ten more seconds before she began to manually knock on the wooden door. Leaning in closer to see if she could possibly hear anything on the other side, she continued to knock with her entire fist this time.
"Mr. Mulvie, this is the CBI! Open up!"
There was still no answer. Without giving Toby Mulvie another chance, she looked at Cho, gestured for the door, and he wordlessly backed up a bit, ran towards the door, and kicked it off its hinges.
Briefly looking at the door, barely hanging on to its frame, Lisbon admired Cho for a second. Not many rookies were capable of knocking down doors, but Cho apparently was an exception.
Gesturing with her shoulder how to move it, Lisbon pulled her gun from its holster and stepped into the house. She was immediately hit by a musky and stale scent of a house that had been neglected over a period of years. Followed by the smell, she saw all the bottles littering the floor. And haphazardly on the floor, next two several empty bottles and slightly on top of them, was a gun.
Changing her grip on her gun, she gestured for Cho to head down one part of the house while she went down the other. Nodding in affirmation, Cho set off towards the left side while Lisbon veered right.
Every time her foot hit a bottle lying on the floor, the pit in her stomach grew larger and larger. About a quarter of a way into the hallway was when she felt the sickness begin to rise in her stomach. No doubt Toby Mulvie was an alcoholic and she immediately sympathized with Sasha and her baby. Especially since her own father had been one to drink away his horrors.
Once she reached the end of the hallway, she softly reached out and grasped onto the knob. Turning it to the right and pushing it open, she watched as the door revealed its contents. An unmade bed was in the center, followed by dirty clothes and garbage. This part of the house also smelled of stale urine.
Grimacing, she took another step in and tried to look around where the door was, only for her eyes to land on a man propped up against the bed. A man with a large lump on the side of his head sat on the floor, eyes closed, and breathing raggedly.
The man also happened to be Patrick Jane.
Quickly holstering her gun, Lisbon took a couple of large steps until she kneeled down next to the consultant. Taking his face in her hands to better examine the large lump and nice bruising on his head, she felt a sense of relief when he jolted awake.
"Teresa?"
He stared up at her, thankfulness obviously evident in his eyes. In return, she furrowed her brow and pulled her hands away from him to step back a bit. "What are you doing here?"
At her louder tone, he winced. "I wanted to get away from Angela," Jane said weakly.
Lisbon stared at him indecorously. "You mean to say that you drove five hours just to get away from your wife?"
In normal circumstances, Jane most likely would have nodded his affirmation. Instead, he weakly smiled at her and mumbled a quick "yes."
"But why would you come…here?"
Jane raised one shoulder and quickly dropped it back down. "I ran into an old client."
"Toby Mulvie?"
"Yes. An old client of mine."
"Ah, is that why he bashed your head in?" she joked.
As Jane opened his mouth to answer her, he stopped when he saw the towering silhouette of Toby Mulvie behind her. For a drunken man that left an exorbitant amount of empty bottles around, he sure could get around quietly.
"Teresa…"
In the shadows, he saw Toby begin to raise his hand. Then he heard the slight creak of a floorboard underneath Toby's feet.
"Wha—."
Lisbon wasn't able to finish her sentence when they heard the click of a gun. Without thinking or worrying about his injuries, he grabbed onto Lisbon's upper arms and pulled her closer to his body. Taking one last fleeting glance at the silhouette, Jane pushed his lower body into Lisbon's and moved them to the side just as the gun went off and a bullet lodged into the bed.
She gasped and moved away from Jane, taking a moment to glance down at his pained body as she reached for her holstered gun. Between the drunken man clambering into the room, Jane's heavy breathing, and her thundering heart, Lisbon found it hard to concentrate on getting her gun into her hands.
Toby was in full view, the gun held level to her chest as she still kneeled on the ground. The gun clicked and Lisbon pulled out her gun, but knew she wouldn't have time to ready it and fire.
"TERESA!"
She heard three earth-shattering gunshots followed by a heavy body dropping to the floor. Her heart stopped and her breath hitched in her throat at the sight of Toby Mulvie's blood staining the floor, his eyes still open in death.
Seconds later, Cho entered the room, his smoking gun lowering at the sight of Lisbon. "You guys okay?"
Lisbon nodded and looked over at Jane, who stared back at her. "Thanks, Cho."
Cho didn't say anything as he began to holster his weapon and kicked away Toby's gun. As he left the room, he took one last glance at Lisbon as she took a step back and kneeled down beside the injured consultant.
She was still in shock; Lisbon began asking Jane a few basic questions. ("Can you stand up?" "On a one to ten scale, how bad is the pain?" "Do you think you may be concussed?") It wasn't until she heard the familiar sirens of emergency vehicles until it dawned on her that Patrick Jane had saved her life.
It was several hours later when she arrived back at her apartment, and she was greatly thankful for the ability to sink into a hot bath. As she was still a bit jumpy from the day's events, time to soak in the hot water was welcomed whole-heartedly. Afterwards, she drained the tub, put on an oversized T-shirt and sweats, and headed over towards the kitchen to see her choices for dinner. As usual, there was only some milk and dangerous looking takeout food.
Grimacing, she closed the refrigerator and decided that she would order a pizza. Just as she was about to reach for the phone, she heard a knock on the door. Before she answered the door, she knew who it was. There was only one person in the world that would come knocking on her door at a time like this.
Looking into the peephole and seeing his distorted face, she sighed loudly. "Jane, go back to Malibu."
"But Teresa, I brought mu shu pork!"
Cursing the man and her growling stomach, she opened the door. He stood there, arms at his sides along with a plastic "THANK-YOU!" bag that was so stereotypical of takeout chains.
Glancing down at the bag, she made a grab for it, but he pulled it out of her reach. "Uh uh uh, Teresa, if you want it, I must eat with you."
She narrowed her eyes. "Why?" She knew why.
"Because I don't want to eat alone and I'm sure you're quite tired of it."
"I'm used to it."
"You shouldn't be," he said softly.
Her eyes opened a bit wider and he took that moment to move into her apartment. She was about to kick him out of the apartment when the delicious smell of the mu shu pork assaulted her senses. God, she was too hungry to tell him to get out of her apartment. Screw calling the pizza man, she'd have the takeout.
She watched Jane set the bag on the counter and begin to pull out the separate plastic containers and silverware. At this time, she glanced over him. He had two butterfly plasters on the side of his head, holding together a small cut that she hadn't seen. The bruising had intensified over the last few hours, but the swelling of the lump had gone down some. No doubt he'd been icing it.
Suddenly, glancing at the injuries that Jane had received earlier today made Lisbon recall the memories of her father when she was stuck in a drunken stupor, and she instantly felt sorry for Toby. He had had no chance to explain himself, even though they ruled that he had killed his own daughter. Still, Toby should have still had a chance…
Absentmindedly, she reached up and rubbed the side of her cheek, remembering how her father had hit her there more than once. Closer towards her nose, her fingertips found the barely noticeable scar that she usually kept concealed with minor foundation. For some reason, that one scar had stayed after all these years…
"Teresa?"
She snapped out of it when he said her name. Blinking a couple of times and hoping she didn't have a glazed expression on her face, she reached in and grasped onto the container of the mu shu pork.
When she sat down on her couch, a thought entered her head. Toby Mulvie didn't appear to be a man of any sort of wealth, unlike Jane's other clients. That either meant that Jane sucked that family dry of any source of funds or they lost a large sum of money and he had to stop "helping" them.
"How was Toby Mulvie a client of yours, Jane?" she asked as she forked a piece of pork.
Jane exhaled the breath he had been keeping in. "The Mulvie's were clients of mine after Callie, Toby's wife and Sasha's mother, died. I was the bridge between this world and where Callie was."
She figured that was the case, but at the mention of Callie Mulvie, Lisbon couldn't help but momentarily set her food on her lap and look down. "Toby was an alcoholic before he had met Callie, but she made him want to get better. And when she died, he became that drunk man he died as."
"How did he afford it?"
Jane glanced down at his own food. "I felt bad for his daughter. I gave them a discount."
Lisbon felt her lip tremble for a second and felt some tears beginning to well up in her eyes. Closing her eyes, she had to command herself not to cry before Patrick Jane. Out of all the people in the world, he was not to see her cry.
Without another word, she stabbed another piece of pork and placed it in her mouth. They finished their meal in silence, Jane occasionally looking over at Lisbon when she refused to look back over at him. She knew he was doing this, but was grateful that he had refrained from saying anything to her.
When they were finished, he held out his hand for her garbage. Briefly looking up at him, she handed the empty plastic container over into his hands. He drew his lips into a thin line and walked over to the bin and threw away the containers.
"Thank you," she said.
She heard him sigh. "I thought you were to be hungry and I wanted company while I ate."
Closing her eyes, she breathed in and knew he heard the slight sniffle of her nose. "No, I was thanking you for saving my life today."
"You're welcome." He seemed uncomfortable at her thanks.
She gave him a slight nod and started to walk towards the kitchen area. "Would you like a cup of coffee or tea?"
"Tea, please."
She nodded and started opening the cupboards in search for any tea she was sure she had stocked up somewhere. At the back of the second cupboard, she found a slightly dusty box of peppermint tea.
"All I have is peppermint. Is that all right?"
Lisbon waited for a couple of seconds before she turned. "Jane?"
He was right behind her, his eyes smoky as they looked into hers. Under his intense gaze, she instantly felt much smaller than she usually did around him. Tenderly, he reached up and brushed his fingertips down her cheek, briefly stopping by the small, thin scar. His darker eyes looked curious at the blemish, but he continued his fingers down her jaw to the column of her neck.
His pupils dilated.
"Jane…"
He didn't let her finish. His lips softly brushed over hers before he applied more pressure to the kiss. Leaning into it a bit more, Jane placed a hand on her waist, his thumb right under her breast. He squeezed that area lightly and she inhaled. His lips pressed against hers even more firmly than before and his entire body pressed her into the counter. The hand at her waist drifted down to the hem of her shirt and slowly started to lift it up.
Carefully, he ran his warm hands down the entire length of her belly. With one finger, he swirled it around her navel, reveling in the sharp little gasp she made. Pulling her even closer, he reached up with one hand and tangled it in her hair, pulling her much closer so there would be no space between them.
Lisbon lost the ability to think. Her head was practically swimming about in a vast ocean of lust when his mouth left hers and began to trail down the side of her neck. He nipped the sensitive skin and rolled his hips against hers, eliciting another sharp gasp from her lips. She felt him begin to turn her body around and slowly move towards the bedroom.
"Why don't we take this to bed?" he whispered against the shell of her ear, his breath causing her to shiver.
Without saying anything, she nodded. And with each step she took towards the bedroom, she felt her heart pound against her chest. This was wrong, so wrong, it told her with every step. Closing her eyes and turning around to face Jane, she willed what tiny bit of self-control she still had to speak out.
"Jane, we shouldn't—."
Lisbon was unable to finish her sentence when Jane's hands gripped her upper arms and lips were placed over hers. In surprise, she felt her eyes widen before they closed. He pushed her down on the bed and moved her to the middle. When her smaller hands gripped onto his shirt, he leaned down and kissed her again.
At three in the morning, Jane awakened in an unfamiliar bed. But when the familiar feeling of a soft, naked body and the familiar scent of soap and cinnamon flooded his senses, he felt his body automatically relax. Tucked within his arms was none other than Teresa Lisbon.
Smiling sheepishly at the sight of the petite woman in his arms, he reached down to pull some of her hair away from her face and leaned down to press a chaste kiss to her forehead. His lips lingered there for a second and he took the time to inhale her scent once more.
She was out. After their second round, she had fallen fast asleep in his arms. Thirty minutes after that, he woke her up from her slumber for round three. Since then, she had been using his arm as a pillow.
It wasn't an uncommon thing for him to have sex multiple times with the same woman during the same night, but it was an uncommon thing to share her bed for the night. When he had initially awakened, he felt instantly nervous about having fallen asleep tangled with the little firecracker. He also felt extremely comfortable being next to her at the same time.
Realizing that he really ought to leave and head back to Malibu, he slowly started to untangle himself from Lisbon. When he got his arms away from her and began to roll away, he heard her mumble something incoherently.
"Patrick?"
He turned to her. "Shh, Teresa. I'll be back."
Blinking her sleepy eyes at him, she nodded and let her head rest on the pillow this time. Immediately after it hit, she fell back asleep. With a sigh, Jane pulled on his clothes and started towards the door when he came to the conclusion that he couldn't just leave her here without giving her some sort of heart felt note.
Finding a pad with lined paper, he tore off a piece and picked up a ballpoint pen he found close to the laundry basket. Quickly, he wrote down three words and set the note on her pillow close to her hand. One more time, he leaned down and kissed her on the forehead before he left the room.
"I was wrong," the note read.
After seventeen and a half pages and nearly 7,000 words, this chapter is finally finished. It was hard to write it, too! Happy Easter!
