A/N: So, um guys, it was at about this chapter that I realized something, I don't actually write that much straight-up romance. And there's a reason for that. So, bear with me a bit in this chapter would you?
Also, to all the Elliot fans, I'm sorry, but he's a shmuck in the original story and he's a shmuck in this. He should count his blessings that I don't have him get hit by a bus.
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Chapter 12
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When Lisbon left Hightower's office she felt much calmer. For all that she wasn't all that fond of her boss on a personal level, there was no denying that Hightower knew what she was doing professionally. Having her boss firmly in their corner made Lisbon that much more comfortable about the whole situation. Now they just needed to find some proof.
Lisbon wandered into the bullpen to see how the team was getting along. When she was there she found herself pleasantly surprised. Rigsby and Van Pelt were deep in conversation at their desks, she assumed about the case, while Cho seemed to have disappeared. But in the far corner of the room she saw Jane scribbling away at one of the desks over something or other, and just behind him stood Harry Cornish who was alternating between looking out the window and supervising Jane.
"Harry!" she greeted the other man in pleasure.
"Agent Lisbon," he replied, just as pleased. "I was hoping you'd emerge from your meeting before I had to leave," he said. "I hope it went well."
"Very well," she confirmed, with a significant look at Rigsby and Van Pelt, hoping they'd realize that meant that Hightower was on board. Both of them nodded, and got back to work.
Confident that her message had been received Lisbon walked over to talk to Harry. "How are you?" she asked.
"I'm good," he confirmed. "In town a couple of days to order supplies for the store and things like that. Needed to get my truck back from that one," he added gesturing towards Jane, who was still scribbling furiously.
Lisbon laughed, "And what exactly is 'that one' doing?" she asked Harry curiously.
"When he stayed with me for a couple of days he got a good look at the boat I was building. Before he left he demanded that I build him one of his own," Harry explained. "He's apparently writing out a set of instructions and drawing a schematic, God help me."
Lisbon laughed. "Are you telling me there's something Patrick Jane isn't naturally gifted at?" she asked.
Harry grinned, "It's not commonly known Agent," he said as he leaned in conspiratorially, "But Patrick Jane couldn't hammer a nail in straight if his life depended on it, let alone draw a working blueprint. We're going out together afterwards to look at supplies, at which time it will undoubtedly be my unhappy job to explain to him that I can't make his boat to his exact specifications, unless he wants it to end up at the bottom of the San Francisco bay on its first voyage."
Lisbon laughed. "Then why let him make a drawing at all?"
Harry shrugged. "He insisted and I didn't see the point in talking him out of it. Besides, at least it'll give me a general idea of what he wants."
"That's true," Lisbon agreed. Then she paused. "How are you?" she asked him seriously. When he looked confused by her tone she explained, "I haven't seen you since, well since..."
"Since that night at Clara's house," he finished for her.
"Yeah," she confirmed. "I wanted to thank you," she added. "For what you did, for getting the blankets, and showing us the back route, and calling the paramedics, and of course the local doctor. It really was a big help."
"Of course," he told her waving off her compliments. "Don't even mention it. I was just happy I could be any help at all. I rather suspect you and Agent Cho did most of the hard work." When Lisbon just waved him off he continued, "I'm told that the Sheriff will make a full recovery?"
"Yes," Lisbon agreed. "She was lucky."
"So it would seem," Harry murmured.
"Have you spoken to Clara?" Lisbon asked. "I hope she's alright. I mean with all that happened, first in the office, then at her house. I can't even imagine how she must be feeling."
"At the moment I think she's grieving," Harry told her. "And of course she feels betrayed."
"Yeah," Lisbon said softly. "I can understand that. She worked in the same office as Jenkins all those years after all."
"Exactly," Harry agreed. "She's feeling vulnerable. Doesn't know who she can trust."
"I guess all breaches of trust are pretty devastating, even if sometimes they're necessary," Lisbon told him softly
Her comment seemed to surprise Harry. "Do you really think a breach of trust could ever be necessary, or even justifiable?" he asked her as he moved closer towards the window so their conversation would be more private.
"Of course," Lisbon told him in surprise. She glanced around the room to make sure no one was paying any attention, but Van Pelt and Rigsby were both focussed on their computer screens and Jane seemed intent on his diagram. She took a step closer to the window as well, and lowered her voice. "I'm certainly not advocating it," she explained to Harry. "And in most cases it's obviously reprehensible and hurtful. But not in all situations. I can think of a few times, some from my own life, where it absolutely was justifiable to break a trust, and absolutely necessary."
"Interesting," said Harry. "I won't ask you for specifics of course, I assume whatever it is was intensely private. But your comments seem to support something I've long thought was true, but never really been able to prove. I'd like your opinion on it as a woman."
"Of course," Lisbon told him, not noticing that Jane's pencil slowed down.
Harry turned towards her. "I've long thought that men might be more straightforward than woman as it were. Men are either black or white. For example, I can't think of any scenario where I think I'd be justified in breaking someone's trust, which isn't to say that I haven't done it of course, I'm not trying to give you that impression. Women I think, see the world in shades of grey. They see all the possibilities, and the subtleties involved. With men, it tends to be one thing or another."
"That may be true," she agreed. "Though I'm not sure I'm the best person to ask," she added. "I spend my days surrounded by criminals, all of whom lie about anything and everything."
"Oh," Harry exclaimed. "I'm not trying to argue that one sex is more trustworthy than the other. I'm sure both have a roughly equal propensity to lie, what I'm wondering about is a woman's attitude towards a lie."
Lisbon paused. "I see. Well, I can't speak for my entire gender, but like I said, there are circumstances where I believe trust should be broken. For example, would you break a promise to someone you cared about to save their life?" she asked. "Even if they hated you for it?"
Harry paused, "I'm not sure that'd ever be necessary."
"But if it was?" she pressed.
He watched her very closely for a moment. "You've done it, haven't you?" he said finally.
"I didn't say that," she told him.
"You didn't have to," he murmured. When she flushed he continued, "I'm sorry; I said I wouldn't pry," he told her.
"It's alright," she told him. "It was a while ago."
"You're sure it was necessary?" he asked her.
"Absolutely," she replied firmly.
He scanned her face again, but seemed to accept that. "And were you forgiven?" he asked softly.
Lisbon paused, "In some ways yes" she told him. "But I'm not sure if I'll ever be completely forgiven."
Their conversation was momentarily disrupted by Jane slamming his knee into a desk drawer. He cursed quietly, before apologizing and going back to scribbling furiously on his boat.
Harry turned back to Lisbon, clearly intent on finishing the conversation. "But you have no regrets," he checked, though he was fairly certain of the answer.
"No, no regrets," she told him quietly. "I'd rather know that my friend is alive even if he's not my friend anymore, then dead and assured of my faithfulness."
Harry paused. After a moment's careful consideration he replied. "You're an extraordinary woman Teresa Lisbon," he told her. "And whoever your friend is, he's an idiot for not realizing what you've done for him."
"He's not an idiot," Lisbon told him with a shake of her head. "The trust I broke was an important one. But thank you."
Harry grinned. "You make me wish Sacramento was a little closer to the beach," he told her. "I think I'd like to get to know you better. You strike me as a woman worth knowing," he told her playfully.
Lisbon grinned back, understanding perfectly why he and Jane got along so well. "And what would Clara think of that?" she asked him saucily, as she too moved past the seriousness of their conversation to something lighter.
Harry gave an exaggerated sigh. "You know, sometimes a man and a woman really are just good friends," he told her.
"And sometimes they're just two idiots deluding themselves," she shot back.
He laughed, "True. Too true Agent Lisbon," he told her. Then he called to Jane, "You just about ready Pat?" he asked.
"Just a few seconds," Jane told him, still scribbling furiously.
"I hope you don't mind Agent Lisbon," Harry said to her. "But with your permission I'd like to steal your consultant for a few hours. I'll need him to explain his diagram and to try and explain what he'd like with his boat. Hopefully between the two of us, we can come to a compromise that will actually be seaworthy."
Lisbon grinned, "No, that's fine," she told him. "At the moment we're waiting for information to be sent to us, or for people to get back to us. We don't need Jane for that."
"Then I'll just take him with me so that he's not always getting underfoot," he told her as Jane stood up. "Ready now Pat?" he asked.
"Yeah," Jane told him. "You go, I'll meet you by the elevator."
"Okay," Harry agreed. "Agent Lisbon, as always, a pleasure."
"Likewise," she told him. She turned and watched Jane gather up all of his papers. To her surprise he finished by placing a single origami frog on the corner of the desk. He sent her a significant look. Then he abruptly left the room without saying a word to anybody.
Lisbon watched him go in amusement before wandering over to the desk to grab the frog, catching it just as it jumped off the edge. She knew it was for her. Origami had been one of Jane's favourite methods of apologizing for years now. She wondered what this one was for.
She picked it up with a smile. Though not always effective at obtaining her forgiveness the frogs were certainly cute. Suddenly she noticed that the one in her hand appeared to be different. It was covered in writing. Glancing around surreptitiously, she slowly unfolded it. "Lisbon," it said at the top. "You'll want to read this in your office. Trust me."
Lisbon frowned briefly. What could the letter possibly say that he thought she should read it in private? Oh well, she thought to herself. Why not?
Curiosity well and truly piqued Lisbon tried not to walk too quickly to her office so as not to arouse the suspicion of either Rigsby or Van Pelt. Once she was safely inside she shut the door behind her and sat down on her couch to read her letter.
Dear Teresa,
I've known for a while that I owe you an apology. But I've never seemed to be able to spit one out. I know it may surprise you - you've seen me blurt out almost anything to almost anyone probably more times than you probably care to remember - but I've never been very good at explanations when they're personal. And this is very personal. So I thought I'd give writing it down a try.
When I first came back to the CBI I told myself it was just because of the case, that the case was interesting, and that I wasn't going to let you stop me from working on it. I think I also wanted to shove in your face that I could be around you, really let you know how little your betrayal had affected me. I know you won't hate me for that, though you probably should. In fact, you probably knew I'd act that way before I did.
But besides all that, I wanted to show you that you still were absolutely not forgiven for Red John. That I still didn't agree with you. I wanted to let you know that I still thought it was all your fault. I need to be absolutely clear here; I was an idiot. You have no idea how many times that point has been driven home to me these last few days. I've lost count myself. After what happened to Lou, well, I was forced to recognize how really good you are at your job, how much I need someone like you around. I couldn't help comparing what it was like to work with the both of you, and you came out on top in every single comparison I could think of. You really are extraordinary Teresa. When you took charge at the crime scene... And then you didn't even threaten to shoot me afterwards (which I also know I deserved).
Recognizing your abilities forced to think about you, about what you'd done, and about Red John. And each time I do I can only come to one conclusion: that you were absolutely right to do what you did. I'm not going to try and tell you that it didn't hurt, that I wasn't angry, or even that I agree with the decision completely. From my own perspective at the time (and you know roughly what that was, so I won't repeat it), what you did was a betrayal, and your decision crushed me. But you were right to make it. I've always been stupid about Red John. You know that. But you saved my life, and you probably saved your own. You definitely saved the lives of any potential future victims.
At this point there was a large line across the paper where Jane's pen had slipped.
Oh, don't say that you think I haven't forgiven you for it! (Yes, I'm eavesdropping in on your conversation. Don't scowl at me Teresa; does it honestly surprise you?) Don't you know? But then how could you... I tried at the hospital but... Oh I'm an idiot. I know I said that once already, but trust me, it bears repeating. Lisbon, listen to me very carefully, and if you believe nothing else in this entire letter please believe this. I have forgiven you, utterly and completely. I think I forgave you long ago, without even realizing. I was angry and petty, but secretly I missed you. We'd been so close after all...
And besides that, you always managed to make me feel better. You were there. You always saved me, no matter what trouble I got myself into. In fact, I seriously think that the only reason I made it through the last year alive was that any time I found myself about to do something unbelievably stupid I heard a voice in my head telling me not to. And now I suspect that voice was yours, and I really don't want to lose it.
I know I've done this all wrong, and backwards, and just generally horribly, but I'm trying to tell you that I want to come back to the CBI, to your team. I want to see if we can work together again. I think that's the real reason I came back for the case. Subconsciously I missed you, but my subconscious, being well aware of how stubborn and prideful my conscious mind could be, had to trick me into it. Sometimes I suspect that you'd get along with my subconscious mind quite well. But I'm getting off topic. If you'll let me I want to come back to work with you, and only you. It's no fun working with anybody else, though I spent a year trying to convince myself that it was.
These past couple days I got to spend some time with you again, real time, after I'd managed to stop being angry. And it all came back, the time we spent together, our friendship. Without the anger, the loss of you hit me like an ache. I tried to pretend that everything was just like old times, that I was still a member of your team, that we'd go on like we were indefinitely. That things were like they used to be. But today I realized that they weren't. That everyone was expecting me to leave the CBI any day now, without any intention of coming back. But I don't want to leave. I miss everything, having people near me who care, the team, but mostly I just miss you, and I want you in my life. Always.
I've always trusted you, I have. I was angry for a while, but even when I was angry I knew I could trust you to take care of me. I just made the mistake of thinking that all law enforcement professionals were created equal. I know you probably can't trust me anymore, and I know I've probably broken your trust more times than you care to remember, but all I'm asking for is the chance to try and win you back.
We've always worked well together. The only real sticking point between us was Red John, but that's gone now. Thanks to you. My lovely Lisbon... I know that I'm only alive because of you. And I can't thank you enough for it. And now I want to spend the rest of my life with you, since it's because of you that I have it.
I understand if I'm too late. If too much time has passed. But I had to try; I'm not quite ready to give up the possibility of you. And if you think you could still trust me, if you think you could forgive me, even after all I've put you through... Well, you should come and find me. Or actually, since I'm going out, I'll come and find you. Because you were right that day at the hospital, I know where you are. You won't even have to say anything if you don't want to. After all, I've always been able to read your face, though maybe not as well as I've claimed. But I know I'll be able to tell this at a glance.
Just, just think about it. Please.
Love
Patrick
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By the time Lisbon finished her letter her hands were quite literally shaking. She let the letter drop onto her lap and leaned back against the couch. Jane hadn't been kidding when he'd said she should read it in her office. If she looked anything like what she felt. She... she... She needed to walk. She jumped up from the couch, intending to pace around her office, thankful that the blinds were closed. She made it as far as the door when she realized that her hands weren't the only things shaking. Quickly making her way back to the couch she collapsed back down again in relief.
He couldn't possibly mean what she thought he meant. He, he just couldn't. Could he?
She grabbed the letter again desperately. She'd always been irritatingly attracted to her irritating consultant. But with the spectre of Red John looming, she'd always known the attraction was practically suicidal so she'd squashed it. Towards the end of their working relationship Lisbon admitted that she may have entertained a few brief thoughts of what if? But Jane's reaction to the Red John debacle had destroyed those little illusions pretty quickly.
But... but, oh...
Lisbon skimmed the letter a third time. How could he possibly think that she didn't want him to come back? Sure she'd never actually said that she did, but, but... she wasn't that self-sacrificing. She couldn't have borne the rejection if she'd asked and he'd said no and left again. And he was the one that had been so angry. How was she supposed to know that he'd changed his mind so completely? Yes, he was irresponsible some of the time, and sometimes she admittedly could quite happily have killed him, but he was her consultant, always had been. He was her Jane. And unless she was very much mistaken he wanted her to be his Lisbon.
Oh god...
Would she take him back? He had the nerve to even ask that? The idiot.
She bolted to her feet. She needed to find him. Right now. Before he spent any more time stupidly thinking he wasn't welcome, that she hadn't missed him. She folded the letter carefully and stuck it in her back pocket, nowhere near ready to part with it. She'd made it halfway across the room, uncaring that her hands were still shaking, when there was a knock on the door. She may have even said, "Come in," she really wasn't all that sure.
Van Pelt opened the door. "Boss, no luck yet getting Elliot's ID number, but Hightower called me and said she had an idea. I was looking through a couple of databases and I may have a couple of leads, and... Good Lord Lisbon! What's wrong?" Van Pelt asked suddenly. She'd been so intent on giving her report that she hadn't actually taken a good look at her boss. When she did finally notice Lisbon's appearance, Van Pelt saw a woman quite different than the one she was used to. For a start, Lisbon was literally shaking. For another she was white as a sheet and her brain appeared to be working overtime to maintain what little composure she had left.
Van Pelt slowly took her boss's hands – Geez they were like ice, the rookie thought to herself - and led her boss back to the couch. "Lisbon, what is it?" she asked softly. "Is something wrong? Can I do anything?"
Lisbon forced herself to focus on her subordinate. She gave her a shaky smile, and Van Pelt was relieved to see some colour come back into her cheeks. "No, I'm fine," Lisbon insisted. "I promise Grace, I'm fine."
"Are you sure," Van Pelt double checked. "You really don't look well. Do you need me to call a doctor?"
"NO!" Lisbon insisted. "No," she added more calmly. "Sorry, I just... I can't explain right now. But I'm fine. I just need to..."
"You don't need to do anything," Van Pelt informed her. "You are going to go home."
"What?" Lisbon asked surprised. "No, I..."
"I'm not kidding Lisbon," Van Pelt told her. "Don't make me get Hightower's opinion. You were white as a ghost when I walked in here and you're still shaking a bit. We don't need you here this afternoon. It'll be all hurry up and wait here for a while, you know that. And you've been running yourself ragged. And we both know this case got personal in more ways than one. You haven't taken any time off since the day Lou was shot and you need to. We can hold the fort here, I promise. You deserve an afternoon off. You work so hard all the time that no one'll bat an eye, and if you're worried I can tell people you have an appointment. If something comes up we'll call you, I promise."
"Okay," Lisbon agreed finally. Grace was right about one thing, she couldn't just sit around the office with nothing but paperwork to distract her. She'd go crazy in no time. "Maybe you're right, I should just take the afternoon off, maybe grab a nap. I'll see you tomorrow."
Van Pelt did a double take. She hadn't expected it to be anywhere near that easy to actually convince her boss to go home. If Grace had needed any more proof that something was going on that was it. "I'm driving you home," she told Lisbon firmly.
"What?" Lisbon asked. "No! Grace, I'm fine. I can drive myself, I promise, I'm fine."
"Lisbon your hands are still shaking," Van Pelt told her softly. "You really shouldn't drive. You're distracted. If you don't want to tell me what's going on that's fine. But I am taking you home, and that's final."
Lisbon looked at her subordinate and saw certainty. She sighed, "When'd you get to be so stubborn?" she asked.
"Picked it up from my boss," Van Pelt shot back immediately.
Lisbon grinned softly. "Okay, just let me get my stuff. I'll meet you by the elevator."
"Alright," Van Pelt agreed. "But if you're not there in two minutes, I'm coming back and dragging you out myself."
"I could fire you, you know," Lisbon told her.
"But you won't," Van Pelt replied easily.
"Out," Lisbon ordered.
"Two minutes," Van Pelt reminded her.
But two the younger agent's utter shock, Lisbon met her by the elevator less than a minute later. She seemed fine overall, though the woman kept fidgeting with her pockets. Still, Van Pelt knew better than to mention it.
They rode the elevator in silence when Lisbon suddenly spoke, "Van Pelt?" she asked.
"Yes?" the agent replied.
"I need you to promise me that if Jane comes back you'll tell him that I decided to take the afternoon off to rest, but that I need to speak to him," Lisbon told her. "That's very important. He's not to leave before I speak to him."
"Lisbon, I don't think he's planning on rushing off for parts unknown tonight," Van Pelt tried to tell her.
"Still," Lisbon insisted. "I need you to promise me. I need to talk to him; I need to tell him..."
"Here, you can tell him yourself," Van Pelt said with a laugh as they rounded the corner of the building into the parking lot and ran into the consultant himself.
"Jane," Lisbon said in surprise.
"Hi," he said softly as he tried to take in everything about her all at once. She looked lost, and confused, and desperate, and... hopeful? He couldn't be sure, but her eyes were also pleading with him, to what? To understand? To stay? He hoped so.
Lisbon still hadn't replied to his greeting. She couldn't, but her eyes never left his face and she prayed his crazy powers were working.
"Jane," Van Pelt said to him, when it became clear Lisbon wasn't about to speak. "Lisbon isn't feeling well and I was going to drive her home." She noticed that got his attention; he frowned before glancing back at the face of the woman beside her, who was still being strangely docile. "Anyway," Van Pelt continued, "I was going to drive her home, but I was wondering if you'd mind doing it. I'm kind of waiting for a call upstairs."
That got Lisbon's attention. "You're waiting for a call?" she practically shouted. "I told you I could drive myself home. If you're waiting for something you need to stay, it could be important. Maybe I should..."
But Van Pelt interrupted her. "YOU are going HOME," she insisted. "And you're NOT driving yourself." She turned to Jane, "Jane a little help here," she asked desperately.
The consultant grinned, his full smile, the one that tended to leave women breathless. But luckily the one Van Pelt was now immune to. "I'd be happy to take the boss home," he told her.
"Thanks," Van Pelt said gratefully, knowing that if Jane thought Lisbon was feeling even slightly under the weather there was no way he'd let her drive. Plus the new arrangement meant that Van Pelt wouldn't have to practically wrestle Lisbon, who was apparently reviving somewhat, into a vehicle. Jane'd figure out a way to do it though. He'd always been able to convince Lisbon to do things no one else could.
"I'll see you guys later then," she told them both, practically fleeing back into the building before Lisbon had a chance to object.
She did glance back once when she reached the door of the building, just in time to see Jane slip an arm around Lisbon's waist and lead her to his car.
xxxxx
TBC
Okay, so, this is probably the most romantic thing I've ever written for this pair, so be gentle.
Besides, it's the letter. It's the adaptation of Wentworth's letter. I dunno, this almost felt like sacrilege to me. I can't even really explain. But I couldn't just cut it, because again, it's the letter. So I hope it's okay. Also, no, I'm not sure how Jane fit all that on one piece of paper. He double-sided it and wrote damn small, okay?
