Chapter 25 - Reflection

The case closed successfully the following morning, Lisbon drove her team back to Sacramento, Rigsby asleep in the back of the SUV with his headphones in his ears, Cho reading and Van Pelt sitting quietly beside her going through paperwork.

It could have been a normal day like many others but, after Ryan had left the night before and she'd shed more than a few tears before she'd fallen asleep – she was slightly ashamed to admit there was a new lightness she felt as she drove home, relieved to have extricated herself from the confines of a relationship she'd not been happy in for some time. It had been a painful extraction but she knew more than ever she'd done the right thing in the cold light of day. She hoped he wouldn't bear her too much animosity for too long but, for now, she understood he needed to despise her for a good long while.

"Any further news from Forensics on Laura Cole's crime scene?" Van Pelt asked her, interrupting her thoughts.

Partridge's news had rippled through the CBI grapevine like quicksilver - a possible lead in the Red John case produced excitement that was hard to contain.

"No. Nothing yet. Let's not get carried away, Van Pelt. Could turn out to be nothing."

"Jane, thanks for popping by," Minelli said as he nodded to the chair opposite him at the other side of his desk.

"Your call didn't sound like I had much choice in the matter, Virgil," Jane smiled as he sat down.

"Yes. Indeed," Minelli harrumphed, fixing him with an eager gaze. "Lisbon called in to see me before she went to San Jose."

Jane nodded slowly, waiting for him to continue. His eyebrows quirked when he didn't immediately.

Minelli looked to his closed door before he pinned him with grimly determined eyes. "She told me she'd informed you about what's been going on," he said quietly.

"Yes."

"You understand how important it is to keep the circle small on this for now?"

Gravely, "I do. Wise. At this juncture."

Minelli breathed out slowly and nodded. His hands went to the packet of cigarettes he kept on his desk then let go of them again. "Used to be able to smoke in the offices around here. Now they have me going outside like a damn dog that needs to pee when the only lungs I'm infecting are my own."

Jane tilted his head to the side with a smirk. "Well, mine too, if you're thinking of lighting up in here. And your need to inhale toxic fumes is just as desperate as that dog you're talking about. By the way, how is yours?"

Minelli shot him a look of contempt. "Don't talk to me about that mutt."

Jane laughed softly. "You can't fool me, Virgil. I'd bet $100 that you have a new chew toy in your desk for him right now."

Minelli glanced at the drawer briefly. "That's neither here nor there," he said, clearing his throat. "Anyway, we're not here to discuss my dog or my smoking-"

Jane leant forward. "You know, I can help you with that. Quitting smoking, I mean. It really is a filthy habit, Virgil. Not nearly as glamorous as it used to be like in the old movies you like to watch. And, let's face it, you're no Cary Grant. You need all the help you can get if you're planning on getting hitched again anytime soon."

As Minelli stared at him in outrage, Jane continued to talk, his voice calmer and lower as he spoke, looking deep into Minelli's eyes. "Now, the next time you decide to light up-"

"Quit that!" Minelli said, shaking his head away from Jane's gaze. "I've heard about your hypnosis crap, don't think I haven't. Smoking is one of the few pleasures I have left in life, Jane, let me keep it, for god's sake."

Jane eyed the cigarettes again. "Fine. As long as you don't inflict that ominous pleasure on me too, thank you very much." He ruefully reflected that he shouldn't have asked permission and that he should merely have hypnotised his boss into not smelling like an ashtray without his knowledge. Another time.

"Fair enough," Minelli nodded. "So, back to why I called you in here, what are your thoughts?" he asked, pushing back into the leather of his chair.

"Hard to say yet," Jane replied, serious again. "Teresa – Lisbon – our conversation got cut short before she told me everything."

"Yes, she said. I said I'd leave it to her to explain the rest. She should be back in a couple of hours, allow you two the chance to catch up again."

Seeing a change in Jane's expression at the news Lisbon would be back in Sacramento shortly Minelli narrowed his eyes at him. "She trusts you. That's...that's not easy for her, you know."

"Nor for you," Jane remarked drily.

A chuckle. "No. Anyhow, glad to see you two are getting on better again. Keep it that way, all right? I don't need the hassle of that particular mess getting in the way of this Red John conspiracy now you're onboard."

"Understood," Jane smiled. He was unsure if this was Minelli's way of asking what his intentions were towards Lisbon or warning him off any such intentions.

Changing the subject, Jane asked, "Do you think Haffner's involved?"

"Do you?"

Amused, "You really are a wily old coot, Virgil. Being sent to work there wasn't just a decision plucked out of the air. You wanted me to get a good read off the man – admit it."

"Hey, less of the old," responded Minelli. "It was you who asked for a transfer, I'll remind you."

"Yes. But your decision to send me to Haffner."

Minelli smiled. "What are your thoughts on him?"

Jane pondered for a few moments, his index finger rubbing along his upper lip. "Unsure. He's quite the pompous ass. Hard to know if that's all an act or for real. Although, if it's for real...then I don't believe he's Red John. Although it doesn't discount him from knowing who he is or working for him."

Minelli tilted forward again, interested.

Jane continued, "Haffner isn't one to shine his light under a bushel, is he?"

"You're one to talk," Minelli mumbled under his breath. He waved his hand at Jane to go on.

"Well, the way I see it – Red John isn't like that. Not in his everyday life. His persona...well, that's an entirely different matter, of course – there he's a showman, that's where he feels at ease to show off who he really is.

"But in everyday life, I'd bet he veers as far away from showing that side to his nature as he can. For two reasons."

Jane tapped one index finger against the other. "One - he can't have the possibility of someone imagining he's Red John, not even for an instant – so subconsciously he'll want to act the opposite of Red John – harmless, ineffectual, even."

He tapped his middle finger. "And two – because he gets off on it, this secret identity of his, fooling all those around him with what's probably a very affable exterior. It's all part of what makes him feel superior to everyone else."

Minelli blinked quickly. "That's...well, that's clever thinking."

Jane beamed a smile back. "Yes, I know. Why are you so interested in Haffner?"

"He has friends at the FBI. And as much as I hate the Feebs sooner or later I'm going to have to bring this to them. Thought he may prove a necessary conduit between agencies. I have some other people I'm looking at too but Haffner could prove useful."

"If he's not crooked. All right, I'll keep looking into him, now I know what I'm looking for."

"Discreetly, mind you." Minelli waved a firm finger at him to emphasise the point.

"Discretion is my middle name," Jane replied smoothly with a smile.

"Dear god, I wish that were true," the other man retorted with a long sigh. "But if Lisbon trusts you then I trust her judgement about you. She just better be right."

Jane continued, "I'm honoured if also a tad offended. By the way, I think you're right, too."

Confused, "About what?"

"You believe Red John works in Law Enforcement. Or adjacent to it – same ballpark, certainly. Lisbon thinks it too although she didn't get around to mentioning that to me just yet."

"How-how do you know we believe that?"

"It's quite obvious. Like you said before about trust. You cops don't trust people easily. You see so much betrayal in your line of work every day it's understandable. But the people you do trust...normally, that is...well, it's other cops - people who see what you see. You're not good at building longstanding relationships outside of work as few others can understand the pressures of your jobs. And if Red John has friends in Law Enforcement then it stands to reason that he's a cop too. Or damn close to being one."

Jane leant back in his chair again. He smiled with assurance as he saw Minelli lost for words. "Now, aren't you glad you and Lisbon brought me into this now?"

Jane tapped twice on Lisbon's open office door and stuck his head in. "Hey, heard you were back," he said cheerfully.

She looked over from the filing cabinet she was standing beside and smiled back. "And I heard you impressed Minelli. That's not easy to do, believe me." She closed it with a shove of her arm.

He shrugged and pretended to act embarrassed. "Aw, it was nothing, really," he grinned.

She came a step closer. "Not what I heard."

He spoke quietly, "He filled you in, I take it?"

She nodded and closed the door beside her, brushing against his arm. "He did."

She added sincerely, turning around until they were face to face, "It's impressive. Seriously, Patrick."

He frowned, looking down at the front of his pants. "Why, thank you, my dear," he beamed.

She rolled her eyes. "I was trying to give you a compliment," she said, crossing her arms and taking a step back.

"And I was accepting it from you graciously," he laughed.

"Just when I think you're a grown up at long last," she said with another eye roll, her dimples showing as she smiled.

"Meh, where's the fun in that? There's enough doom and gloom in the world as it is."

She shook her head as she sat at her desk. He shuffled in beside her, leaning on the corner nearest to her. "Heard you closed your case, is that the reason for this good mood of yours?"

She raised an offended eyebrow. "Are you suggesting I'm usually grumpy?"

"Uhm...so...case closed, huh?" he said again, beaming a charming smile at her and blatantly ignoring her response.

"Yeah," she nodded. "Still have to file the paperwork, though," she shrugged, picking up a pen.

"Such a waste of time," he muttered loudly.

"Don't start about all that again," she said with a smile, her head down. "I don't have time to listen to it."

"I'll be on my way when we agree on when our next secret assignation is going to be. Minelli suggested the sooner the better. I agree. The lab tests will be back anytime, would be nice to have the full story of what we're dealing with and how far you've got before then."

"Yeah, you're right. I was going to call you to arrange it. How about tonight? You free? Her smile wavered slightly. "I mean...if you have other plans we can reschedule-"

"Tonight's great," he said. "You want to come to mine? I can make us something to eat."

A wrinkle appeared between her eyes as she considered the invitation.

"Teresa, it's just dinner while we talk. I swear I'm not going to put the moves on you-"

"No. I mean – yes. I mean...yes, tonight's good for me too. Dinner too, if you're offering. It'd be...it'd be nice."

"Not sure how nice it'll be to discuss a serial killer while we dine but we'll make the best of it," he said with a chuckle, moving off her desk. "I'll see you around seven?"

"Sure," she replied. "See you then."

"Hey!" He greeted her with a smile when he opened the door. "Come on in, dinner's almost ready," he added, "just throw your jacket anywhere, I'm at a crucial point in timing this correctly."

As he rushed back to the kitchen she threw her jacket on the couch and watched him concentrate at the stove. The smells of tomato and basil wafted in her direction. "Smells delicious. You shouldn't have gone to any trouble, though, Patrick."

"If it was any trouble I wouldn't have," he replied, turning his head quickly with a smile and a wink. As he was stirring something in a pot he nodded to a bottle of red wine on the counter. "Would you mind opening the wine, the corkscrew is in the top drawer. It's a travesty to have this lamb without a good glass of Brunello to accompany it."

"If you say so," she said under her breath. After she opened it she found herself staring at him as he continued cooking, adjusting and readjusting the sauce and adding herbs as he went.

"Where'd you learn to cook? And learn about what wine goes with what? In the carnival a bad hot dog was the best you had to offer me," she asked him with a smile.

He chuckled. "Took a few classes. Helped me in my...previous career line."

"How so?"

"Cooking classes are a great way to meet women who are rich and bored. Ripe for the picking. Only the most expensive and exclusive courses, naturally, make sure the people you're attracting are worth the effort and initial expense. Once there, just throw out a few breadcrumbs of interest and you have the birds flocking around you wanting to know – and pay for - more. Literally. Plus it helped me to become more refined and learn about that stuff – made me appear more on the level than what I actually was, helped smooth out the edges from where I started, made me look semi-respectable. Now...well, now I just enjoy cooking. It's relaxing." He glanced at her. "Especially when I have someone to experiment on," he grinned.

"Gee, thanks," she laughed. After she laughed he saw her withdraw again almost immediately, compose herself into someone more closed off again.

"Everything okay?" he nodded with a frown. "You seem conflicted about something."

She bit her bottom lip briefly and took a deep breath. "Yeah...I'm...hell, I might as well just say it. I broke up with Ryan."

Jane stared back at her for a second too long. The sound of his pot of sauce bubbling brought him back to the present. He removed it and turned off the gas. "When?" he probed.

"Last night."

"I thought you were on a case and you wanted to wait-"

"I was. And I did. But then he came to see me. Surprised me. He wanted to..." She broke off and looked away momentarily, "well, it doesn't matter what he wanted. The point is I ended it. I couldn't...I couldn't go on with what was rapidly becoming more and more of a charade any longer."

He nodded slowly. "You did the right thing," he said softly. "He didn't take it well, I'm guessing."

"No. But I don't blame him for that. I hurt him. Badly."

"Better now than hurt him more years down the line."

"Yeah...yeah, I know. It's just hard."

"Of course. So, you feel conflicted because you know you did the right thing but feel bad for the pain you caused. It's entirely normal to feel that way."

"Mmm." She picked up the glass of wine beside her and took a sip as he went back to cooking. "Wine's good," she said, filling in the awkward silence that had suddenly descended on them.

"Glad you like it," he answered, staring into his pot of sauce. "Actually, this sauce could do with a dash of it." He glanced quickly at the bottle just out of his reach. "Would you mind...?"

"Of course." She picked up the bottle and handed it to him. As their fingers touched their eyes met. "Thank you," he said softly, taking the bottle from her and adding some to the sauce.

"Patrick," she said quietly a tense moment later.

"Hmm?"

"I think I made a mistake."

"With Ryan? No, you didn't."

"Not with him."

He stopped stirring the sauce immediately and turned to her slowly. "Yes, you did," he told her unwaveringly.

"Elise...?" she asked, her breathing erratic as she was drawn into his gaze, increasingly searing and hot.

"It's over."

"When?" she frowned.

"Yesterday."

"Why?"

"You know why," he stated calmly. He turned the gas off again without looking away from her.

"I-I don't even know if this is a good idea right now..." she started, though her body was contradicting her statement as she moved closer to him.

He fixed a lock of her hair behind her ear tenderly. Then, surprising her, he bent down and kissed the spot just below it with the barest of touches. She shivered. He kissed her again, a whisper of a kiss. "Your reaction tells me something entirely different," he said quietly, kissing her just lower, another breath of a kiss.

As her eyes fluttered closed and she melted against his chest, instinctively exposing more of her neck for him to continue he stood up straight again and took a step back. She blinked open her eyes and saw him reach for the glass of wine she'd been sipping. He drank enough to wet his lips and eyed her confidently.

"I'm not going to seduce you, Teresa. Although..." he smiled, more of a smirk than a smile, "although I imagine I could without much effort right now."

When he saw the beginnings of a glare he shook his head, "Let me finish before you slap me again. I don't want to be some kind of rebound fling for you, some one night stand that you'll tell me was a mistake come morning when that brain of yours starts worrying about Red John and a thousand other excuses why you're afraid of this becoming real between us."

His voice dipped lower, more unsure, "You're not the only one who's afraid. You're not the only one who can be hurt."

Her anger evaporated quickly as she looked into his eyes, earnest and truthful. "So then maybe we shouldn't...give in to this, whatever this is. If we both have too much to lose."

"I doubt that's going to be possible for much longer. To just stop feeling what we feel for each other. We're already on this road. We may have taken a detour for a decade but when our paths crossed again this was always going to happen. We both know it, Teresa."

"You don't believe in fate."

"No. But I believe in us. I always have. You just need to believe in us too. Can you? Are you ready for that?"

She smiled faintly at him. "I-I think I want to be ready. With you, that is. Even with all the reasons running around my head why this is probably a terrible idea and the fact I've just broken up with my boyfriend. I-I want you. And...I guess it's that simple when it comes down to it."

He chuckled softly. "Well, it's not exactly a declaration of undying worship but it'll do for now. If you do need more time, though-"

She took a step towards him again and kissed him softly. "Maybe we've wasted enough. And you're right, sometimes you just have to take a leap of faith."

She kissed him again, less chaste, more charged. "And you have to know that the last thing you could ever be for me is some kind of rebound fling, Patrick." Slowly they deepened it, the taste of wine on their lips. As they broke off, her cheeks the colour of cherries, she smiled. "Mind if we skip dinner?"

He smiled back at her, his hands resting on the small of her back. "I did put a lot of effort into it." He pecked her lips. "But it might taste better if it marinates for a while longer."

She smiled and kissed him again. This time it was more raw, more full of hunger. He matched her fervour as he grabbed her ass and brought her closer as his mouth lingered on hers. "Is there something about this kitchen that makes you hot for me?" he asked, breaking the kiss with a laugh.

She looked around them, chuckling. "I don't know. Guess there must be."

As he went to kiss her again he broke off again just as quickly. "Hang on, where's your phone?"

"Huh?"

"Your cell, where is it?"

She glanced at her jacket on the couch. "In my jacket, why, for heaven's sake?" she laughed.

He took her hand and led her to it. Rifling through her jacket he found it. "Et voila!" Grinning, he pressed a button on it quickly and threw it back towards the couch. "Because I'm not having that damn thing ring and spoil this for us again. So I switched it off."

He gathered her back in his arms and kissed her as she giggled at his impetuousness. "What if work calls?-"

"Whoever's dead will still be dead come morning," he said, nuzzling her neck again.

"That's a terrible-"

His hands gracefully untucked her shirt from her jeans and she stopped talking as his fingers, hot and certain, wove their way around her back. "What were you about to say?" he grinned, kissing her.

"Doesn't matter," she moaned, as her lips found his again.

"Bedroom?" he groaned against her mouth.

"Bedroom," she confirmed breathlessly.