In the end, the talk resolved nothing. They both went to bed tense and unhappy. They passed the night on their respective sides of the bed, each painfully careful not to touch the other.
The following morning they moved around each other gingerly. It was so unlike them Lisbon felt like she was sharing a house with a stranger.
Escaping to the office was a relief. Lisbon looked forward to having a few moments to collect herself after the difficult interactions with Jane when she got to her desk, but she didn't make it that far. Albers and Nightingale assailed her before she could sit down, clapping her on the shoulder and congratulating her on her article. The rest of the staff (excepting Givens, of course) gave her much the same treatment, demanding that she tell them the story of how she'd landed such a big scoop. By the time she managed to extricate herself, over half an hour had passed since she'd arrived at the office.
She sat down at her computer, opened her email, and blinked. Then looked at the phone and blinked twice more. She'd received over a thousand emails and two dozen phone messages before nine-thirty am.
"Looks like the article is a hit," Heather commented, her voice unusually close.
Lisbon turned her head to find Heather peering over her shoulder at the list of unread messages. "Nosy," she said affectionately.
"I'm in the newspaper business," Heather said, straightening with assumed dignity. "It's my job to be nosy."
"Uh-huh," Lisbon said, smirking.
"You're one to talk," Heather said, unrepentant. "Didn't you crack this story by eavesdropping?"
"Hey, don't go giving away all my trade secrets," Lisbon said.
"Hennessy said your article got more hits this morning than the total for whole paper gotten in the last two months," Heather informed her. "And that's just from the last few hours. I bet this is going to give us a boost in subscribers, too."
"You think so?" Lisbon said, pleased.
"I sure hope so," Heather said. "I'm planning to ride your coattails to success here, so it's certainly the outcome I'm hoping for. You're going to be able to hold this over Givens for years. I'm hoping to profit by associated leverage."
Lisbon's smile faded. "Right," she said without enthusiasm. She wasn't going to be here to hold this over Givens for years. She was going to be gone from here in a matter of months, if not sooner. She looked at Heather unhappily. She would really miss her when she went back to her old life.
Heather looked at her oddly. "What?"
"Have you ever been to California?" Lisbon blurted out suddenly.
Heather frowned. "California? Sure. Got some cousins in L.A. That place gives me the creeps, though. Everyone's so wrapped up in their tans they can't fit anything of substance in their brains."
"Not all of California's like that," Lisbon protested. "Northern California's nice."
Heather raised an eyebrow. "Why are we talking about California?"
Lisbon cut her eyes away. "No reason."
Heather's eyes narrowed. "Did you find something for the next part of your series that requires a road trip to the Golden State? Because I would so be down for that."
"Nothing like that," Lisbon muttered, cursing herself for bringing up the subject in the first place.
"Maybe you and Patrick should go there," Heather suggested.
Lisbon jerked her head up. "Why would we do that?" she said sharply. For one wild moment, she wondered if Red John could have sent this smart, kind young woman to befriend her as one of his twisted gifts.
"It could be good for you guys to get away for a while," Heather said, oblivious to Lisbon's brief sojourn into paranoia. "Sort out some of your issues."
Lisbon hid her sigh of relief. "I don't think geography is going to solve this one," she said sadly.
Heather leaned against Lisbon's desk and lowered her voice. "Have you talked to him?"
Lisbon hesitated. "I'm—I'm back at the house."
Heather brightened. "Really? That's great." Looking at Lisbon's face, she stopped. "Isn't it?" she said uncertainly.
Lisbon bit her lip. "I don't know," she admitted. "We talked last night, but it didn't really solve anything."
"You guys are gonna work it out," Heather said confidently. "I know it. You're the real thing. True love, and all that."
Lisbon looked at her, exasperated. "How do you know? You haven't even met Patrick."
"Just—the look you get in your eyes when you talk about him," Heather said, gesturing at her vaguely.
Lisbon blushed. "Oh." God, was she really that transparent?
Something told her she'd be better off not thinking too deeply about the answer to that.
Xxx
Lisbon spent most of the rest of the day at the police station. Her diligence was rewarded when O'Hara quietly slipped her in to speak to the bureau chief, who told her gravely that Thorpe had confessed to the murder of Dorothy Ramseth and had accepted a plea deal.
Pleased that Dorothy Ramseth would receive justice, Lisbon went back to the office and wrote.
Her phone buzzed, interrupting her concentration. A text from Jane.
Should I expect you home for dinner? Trying to recreate those raspberry green chile corn muffins to go along with the fajitas I'm planning.
Lisbon bit her lip. She glanced at her computer, then looked back at her phone. She did want to work things out with Jane, if it was possible. Or at least get to a place where being in the same room with him wasn't like lying on a bed of broken glass.
Yes, she wrote. Wrapping something up now. 7 ok?
I look forward to it, Jane wrote simply.
Xxx
She got home an hour later, unaccountably nervous. She dumped her stuff by the door, then went into the kitchen, where she found Jane standing over the stove, his sleeves rolled up as he sautéed a batch of green peppers and onions. "Hey," she said awkwardly.
"Hey," he said, his face lighting up at the sight of her.
No one ever looked as happy to see her as Jane did, she thought with a pang. She looked at his shirt sleeves. Also, it was deeply unfair of him to look that good and be cooking at the same time.
She cleared her throat. "How was work?"
"Fine," Jane said, glancing over at her. "I've been helping out with the end of year school play. It's pretty fun."
Lisbon smiled slightly, thinking of the woodland fairy tale space Jane had created in his classroom. "Are you helping with set design?"
"Among other things," he agreed.
"Is George making a cameo in this particular performance?" she asked, referring to the papier-mâché dragon.
He smiled. "Not this one. But he may be about to acquire an elephant cousin."
"I bet that will be pretty impressive."
"Speaking of impressive—I read your article this morning," he said, flipping the peppers and onions onto a plate. He met her eyes. "It was wonderful."
Lisbon ducked her head. "Thanks."
"I'm proud of you," he said softly.
"Thank you," Lisbon said again, mesmerized by the look in his eyes. She cleared her throat again. "I've got another one coming out tomorrow. Thorpe confessed to killing Dorothy Ramseth."
Jane shook his head. "I guess you can take the Lisbon out of the bureau of investigation, but you can't take the investigator out of Lisbon."
She grinned despite herself. "Hush." God, it felt so good to smile at him again.
Jane set down the fajitas and took a step closer to her. "Listen, Teresa, about that talk—can we try it again? Because I have some things I want to say—"
The doorbell rang.
Lisbon looked towards the front hall in consternation. "Are you expecting someone?"
"No," Jane said, shooting a disgruntled look in the direction of the hallway. "Are you?"
"No."
"I'll get it," Jane grumbled, and went to answer the door. Lisbon followed, her curiosity piqued.
It was Montrose.
"Big news," Montrose announced after Jane had shut the door behind her. "They've set a date for the trial."
"When is it?" Lisbon asked, a strange surge of anticipation and dread swirling together in her stomach at the thought. They would get to go home. But also—they would have to leave this place that had become a different kind of home. She realized with dismay that despite all the crap between her and Jane at the moment, there was a part of her that wasn't so sure she wanted to go back to her old life. The one where two killers were trying to kill her and Jane didn't sleep beside her every night.
"Four weeks from now," Montrose said. "U.S. District Court in Los Angeles."
"Why L.A.?" Jane asked, frowning.
Montrose shrugged. "Some lawyerly reason about some of Scalzi's interstate trafficking charges. Hell if I know."
"What's the plan for trial prep?" Lisbon asked, her mind immediately going to the practicalities involved in giving her testimony. Would they have to leave Salt Lake in only a couple of weeks? Her heart sank. What if she and Jane hadn't resolved anything by then? What if he took this opportunity while she was being interrogated by a thousand lawyers to quietly slip away and resume his quest for Red John?
"Don't know yet," Montrose said. "You probably won't be called on to testify right at the beginning of the trial, though, so I don't see us pulling you out of here until after it's started, at least."
Lisbon let out a tiny breath of relief. "Okay."
Montrose pulled out a fistful of letters from her bag. "Oh, also, I have mail for you." She started to hand the stack to Lisbon. Lisbon reached out for it greedily, but Montrose stopped before completing the handoff and pulled the top one out of the stack. "This one's for you," she said, handing it to Jane.
Jane brightened. "Really? Let me guess, it's from Cho. I always knew he'd crack first, the old softie," he said, chuckling as he accepted the letter.
He opened the letter and scanned the contents, his expression darkening as he read.
"Patrick?" Lisbon said, worried by the expression on his face. "What is it?"
Jane's face was a dark mask. He folded it in half and thrust the letter towards her. "See for yourself."
Lisbon accepted it hesitantly. As he passed it to her, a small wallet sized photograph slipped out of the single folded sheet of paper and fell to the floor. Lisbon bent to pick it up, and then she saw what had caused Jane to react the way he had.
It was a photograph of Lorelei, head and shoulders. Her left eye was purpled and swollen, her lower lip split.
The letter was simple. You could stop this, lover. You could make him stop hurting me. Why won't you protect me?
"What is it?" Montrose asked in alarm, catching sight of their faces.
"A letter from Patrick's—ex, I guess you would call her," Lisbon said, grimacing.
"She's not my ex," Jane said sharply.
Lisbon rolled her eyes. "I hardly think the semantics are important at this point, do you?"
Jane glowered. "I happen to think they are important—"
Lisbon handed the letter back to Montrose. "You'll need to get that to Agent Cho," she told her. "Could be important for the Red John case."
Jane frowned. "How'd you get that letter in the first place?"
Montrose blinked. "It was forwarded from the CBI, just like the others. Picked up from your office mailbox."
Jane's shoulders dropped as he exhaled. "That's good. It doesn't completely rule out the possibility that he knows where we are, or who Montrose and Soren are, but if he knew exactly where we were, I think he'd be more likely to send it directly to Montrose. To rub it into our faces."
Lisbon was inclined to agree. "What do you think it means?"
"Obvious, isn't it? It's hardly subtle." Jane's jaw tightened. "He's trying to use Lorelei to get me to go back to California. Or at least betray my hand by trying to intervene from afar. He thinks I'll feel responsible for her safety because I slept with her in Vegas."
Montrose looked askance at him at this revelation but didn't comment.
Lisbon privately thought Red John was probably pretty close to the mark in this particular case. "Why now, though?"
"It's just as I said before," he said, meeting her eyes. "He wanted to let us get closer. Then once I had more to lose, he would act to take everything away from me again."
Lisbon swallowed but didn't lower her gaze. "Oh."
"So he must have found out about the trial date," Montrose offered. "The timing is too coincidental otherwise, isn't it?"
Jane looked at her as though faintly surprised to see she was there at all, let alone that she had come to the table with a theory about Red John. "Yes. I think you're right about that."
"So now that the trial is imminent, he wants to provoke you into coming out into the open?" Lisbon said, frowning.
Jane looked back at her. "More specifically, he wants me to manipulate me into doing something stupid so he can come after you. He knows I'll be hyped up over the threat of Scalzi during the trial. Probably thinks he can capitalize on that to get me to make a mistake that leaves you exposed."
"Jesus," Montrose said, exhaling through her teeth. She looked at Lisbon. "We're gonna have to triple your protection at the trial."
"Great," Lisbon said without enthusiasm. She looked at Jane, knowing that he was thinking the same thing as she was. If Red John was determined to come after her, she was fairly certain an army of federal agents wouldn't be enough to stop him.
Xxx
After Montrose left, Jane balled his hands into fists and exhaled deeply. "I need to think," he said shortly.
"Okay," Lisbon said cautiously. There was no attic for him to retreat to here, though. "When should I expect you back?"
He looked at her as though she were crazy. "I'm not leaving," he said. "I just—need to think."
"Fine," Lisbon said, annoyed that he was behaving as though she were completely irrational for assuming he'd go haring off on his own, after everything that had come before. "Do what you need to do."
His jaw tightened. "I'll talk to you after," he said stiffly.
Lisbon jerked her head upward in acknowledgment and turned on her heel, frustrated.
Accordingly, Jane shut himself in the office and Lisbon ate fajitas alone.
Several hours later, she lay in bed, staring at the ceiling and thinking about Lorelei. She'd need to talk to Cho about increasing the security around her, if Red John could get to her so easily within the prison walls. He'd obviously sent a proxy to do the actual dirty work, but the end result was the same.
No, she reminded herself. She'd have to ask Montrose to pass a message to Cho. They would have to be extra careful about communication protocols, under the circumstances.
She thought some more about Lorelei, and Jane's expression when he'd seen that letter. Jealousy warred with sympathy for Jane, being so crudely assaulted at his weakest point. Namely, his ability to protect those he cared about. Just exactly to what degree Lorelei fell into that category, Lisbon had never been completely clear. Jane insisted their relationship had been entirely transactional, but Lisbon had never been wholly convinced of that. God, it was so annoying being jealous.
The bedroom door opened and Jane entered. "Hey," he said wearily. He gestured to the bed. "May I?"
Lisbon turned back the covers for him in silent invitation.
Jane got into bed and stared at the ceiling.
"Did you have anything to eat?" Lisbon asked softly.
Jane grimaced. "Not hungry."
"The fajitas were good," Lisbon said tentatively. "Want me to warm up a plate for you?"
"Leave it, please," Jane said, sounding as though it were a great effort to keep his voice even.
Fine, she thought, annoyed all over again. If he was going to be like that, she wouldn't bother with further olive branches. She wordlessly turned over onto her side with her back to him so he would know she had no intention of bothering him further on the subject.
Jane sighed. "I'm sorry." He exhaled deeply again. "I'm a little out of sorts."
Lisbon turned back over and studied him. "Did you figure anything out during your thinking time?"
"Not a thing," Jane said, defeated. "I've been over every angle, and I haven't thought of a single useful idea to get out in front of him on this one."
"I'm sorry," Lisbon said with real sympathy.
Jane put his hand over his eyes. "What if he comes after you during the trial?" he said, his voice betraying the slightest tremor.
Lisbon bit her lip. "Wouldn't it make more sense for him to wait until after?" she said. "You heard Montrose. He's going to have a lot of security to contend with for the duration of the trial. It'd be much easier for him to wait for that whole circus to be over and then pick me off once we're back in Sacramento and Scalzi's safely out of the way."
Jane let out a hollow laugh. "What a comforting scenario. Thanks for that."
She tentatively reached out and placed a hand on his wrist. "What about Lorelei?"
Jane stiffened beneath her fingers. "What about her?"
"Any ideas how we can keep her safe? I'll ask Montrose to pass the word along to Cho to increase the security around her, but I don't think it will be enough, do you?"
"No," Jane said gloomily. "She's obviously complicit in whatever they're doing to her. I don't see how we can stop it."
She hesitated, then slid her hand down his wrist and slipped her hand into his. "I'm sorry this is happening to you."
Jane glanced down at their joined hands in surprise and then looked over at her, incredulous. "Happening to me?"
She shrugged against her pillow. "You said it yourself. He's arranged all of this to provoke you. Hitting you where he knows it will hurt you the most."
"He hasn't even gotten in the vicinity of where it will hurt me the most," Jane said savagely. He pulled his hand away from her and scowled at the ceiling. Then forced himself to take two calming breaths. "I admit it seems clear he's gearing up to do just that," he said darkly.
She laid her hand on his shoulder. "Patrick—"
He recoiled from her touch. "Please don't," he said harshly.
"Don't what?" Lisbon said, hurt. "I was just—"
He gestured between the two of them. "I don't want you to reach out to me out of pity, or whatever this is supposed to be. You're mad at me. I'd prefer that you just—stay mad at me. This has nothing to do with the other."
"Of course it does," Lisbon said, annoyed. She punched him in the arm. "And did it ever occur to you that I'm reaching out to you because I care about you, despite whatever other crap is between us? That when you're hurt, it hurts me, and I want us to comfort each other, even when I'm still so mad at you I could strangle you with my bare hands?"
Jane stared at her, wide-eyed. "Uh—not really, no."
"Well, I do," Lisbon huffed.
A pause. "If that's the case," Jane said cautiously. "I suppose I wouldn't be entirely opposed to what you're proposing."
"Idiot," she muttered. But she shifted closer to him and put her head on his chest anyway, grumbling into his shirt under her breath.
After a moment, she became aware that Jane's chest was shaking slightly beneath her cheek. She lifted her head, concerned that he might have started weeping, only to find that he was fighting back laughter.
"What now?" she demanded.
"Nothing," he said, trying to keep his face from betraying a smile. "I was just thinking."
She glared at him. "Thinking what?"
"Just that, well—I've heard of angry sex. But I've never heard of angry cuddling before," he said, losing the battle against laughter and shaking his head with a chuckle.
She punched him lightly in the ribs. "Shut up. I'll give you angry cuddling," she said, and took his face in her hands. She kissed him, biting his lower lip a little harder than she might have done under other circumstances.
Jane groaned. "Is that supposed to be some kind of punishment? Because let me tell you, you have really got the wrong end of the stick on that one—"
She silenced him with another kiss.
When she released him, she expected him to tease her some more, but instead, he kissed her back fiercely. Then he pulled her closer to him, shaking with emotion this time. "I'm not going to let him get you, Teresa," he whispered into her ear, his voice choked. "I swear I'm not."
Lisbon tucked her head under his chin and wrapped her arm around his waist. "I know, Patrick," she said softly. "I know you won't."
"I don't suppose this means I'm forgiven for the other thing," Jane said, stroking the ends of her hair.
Lisbon snuggled closer to him. "Nope." But she felt better than she had in days. Judging by Jane's soft sigh and the way his arms tightened around her, he must have felt much the same way.