Chapter 21

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The quote elaborates about the part of the episode where these insights start.

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Season 2 Episode 11

"High school. Best years of your life, eh…", says Jane while surveying the reunion scene.

Yes, like Lisbon I am also quite eager to brush the kiss of assault into oblivion. If she's afraid that I will bring it up, needn't worry though I would like to tease her at least once because I feel she has been extra tight in her attempts to reign me in. I mean 'no guessing games' is a little too harsh…

I have a feeling she used to be lighter though quite the same in her own teenage years. Hopefully she will soak in all this 'reunion' energy and feel a spring in her step.

"I mean it was surprising enough that Selby was even coming. Now this..", Wila Brock says.

"Why the surprise…?", Lisbon asks.

"Well, he wasn't at the fifth or the tenth…", says Wila as if the investigators should know the reason for this as well.

"Because…?", asks Lisbon.

"Because he was expelled and never graduated.", states Wila.

This Brock woman, she really loved high school, huh… Eager to help, one might say, too eager almost. She thinks high school is such a good reflection of the society in general, uses a lot of hand gestures in a restrained manner like she has to tone down her confidence here. It sort of irritates Lisbon but I find it fascinating enough. She's definitely restricting her glee? Triumph? Some delirious emotion that makes her pupils dilate when she talks about Selby's 'incident'. She thinks she's good but I can spot a Black Widow from a mile off…

"Umm, is there anything else you can tell us about him?", asks Jane.

I direct most of my attention to Brock. There's a slight tremor in her arm -not anything from nerves, but the opposite. I want this woman to talk just bit more because I'm close to the nerve she's hiding. I don't let the vile nature of the 'prank' affect me yet as Lisbon has. I need to bait Wila. But then the buffoon beside her cuts in when I need almost nothing from him. And the chance is lost…

"What's your problem?", asks Lisbon.

"Uh, nothing. It's just a room full of people lying to each other. Everyone here is trying to show how much they have changed when the mere effort screams that they haven't.", grimaces Jane.

Lisbon, the saintly Lisbon, always wanting to believe in efforts, in people. But sometimes the truth is evident if only you remove your lenses. I proceed to unravel her shallow hypotheses and she as always, instead of admitting defeat, combats with gracious logic that almost allows me to influence it. When I imagine Lisbon as a teenaged girl in high school, it's the easiest, smoothest thing in the world, doesn't even need much derivation, she's there complete, headstrong nature just underneath a veneer of integrity and virtue- a very unusual girl for her age and not just because of her unusual circumstances or family life. The only thing that escapes me is the instrument she might have gone for, everything else is confirmed with her denials about my construction. After I have told her to locate the prank's victim, Derek Logan, and admitted a secret that many people would shame me for, Lisbon acknowledges and files it away and I am grateful for her friendship. It's a shame we wouldn't have ever met in high school so I file away her youthful profile rather affectionately. It's never going to see the light of day, another secret in the well, the only one I might allow myself to remove and flip over sometimes…

"This thing is a golden treasury of mullets.", strolls in Jane.

Lisbon says sternly, " A brawl? You started a brawl, come on…"

Some spinning is required, some humour to unburden Lisbon's grumpy mood, though I understand I've made today a bit stressful needlessly because the situation snowballed rather quickly. But I'm of the opinion that it's healthy of the mind to get the toxins out and whatever way it came about, maybe Redmond will be bette r for it... No matter, I have plans and when all is well, she will smile.

"Mr. Jane, this is a weekend of celebration. Your presence is making a few people uncomfortable.", says Wila.

"Should I go away? Should I leave Selby and Jana unavenged because of some low comfort levels? Is that what you're saying?", Jane pricks.

Ah Wila, Wila, think you can take me on, you have another thing coming… The regional tv personality will go to any length for saving an image. And the Cordova buffoon may wallow in anxiety for all I care. Gabe Nyland had been an interesting suspect but now that he's cleared, there's definitive work to be done. The bullying incident disturbs my thought process whenever I try to examine the facts in the case. It has a vicious streak that sits uncomfortable, good motive for Logan though it consumed the kid… If I want to catch the killer, this event needs to unravel first. Who better than the principal to guide me through? He seems honest and wanting to be anywhere in the world but here. Poor guy, asleep when there's all this entertainment afoot…

"It's easy. You build a memory palace.", states Jane.

Rigsby doesn't know I'm giving away a big trade secret. He has been rather petulant about Van Pelt's assignment on this case and he needs to sort it out thus this engaging role that I have developed for him (plus he's the only one that might pass off as Logan in the present- I can already imagine the collective surprise!). I bluff a threat to tell on him about their 'secret' relationship to Lisbon when he becomes too hesitant. My plans are always fun and barring some, I have always steered everyone in the correct direction. I don't see what the uncertainty's all about…

"I have immortal longings in me. Remember that quote?", asks Jane.

'Give me my robe. Put on my crown. I have Immortal longings in me.' To be precise and Shakespearean. Though this is something Cleopatra says as she prepares to join Antony in death, Wila Brock has plucked it out for herself in the literal sense of the sentence. She refuses to believe that high school is but a minuscule part of life and that most people make themselves successful or popular, even find happiness in reality out of the small cesspool. She has continued to cling on to this idea of self, refusing to look in the mirror. Unfortunately society rewards functioning sociopaths rather comfortably to it's own detriment I have found. I spin a nice web for her and she is caught unawares. If only she hadn't kept the trophy of a photograph… but then the inherent instinct is not to be denied. I look at Lisbon. Yes, but to be an adult and glance in a mirror, is to deny instinct…

"I promised him you'd give Monday off." Scrambles Jane.

"Not happening." Lisbon draws a line.

"Well, that puts me in an awkward position. I, I, I held up my end of the bargain." Stutters Jane.

"Oh god, I used to love this song" says Lisbon distractedly.

The sweat bead at my temple itches. How come I can't conjure my usual amount of casual lies? Anyway, I try to smooth it over by asking her to dance on the song which thankfully came just at the right moment… Throwing Rigsby under the bus had never been my intention, the thought is distasteful enough, though I did enjoy his reaction to my knowledge. I'm still debating whether deflecting her was the right move or not, can't friends share a dance? I decide they can. Cherone sings 'more than words is all you have to do to make it real' and I am afraid. My pleasure comes at a razor thin edge, the fall, the abyss, the well tingles at my spine, this feeling of her in my arms. I fight with my self a little. In an effort to steer not just the dance but the feelings that are more than words, I desperately ask, "Timpani?" She says it's not the one and I settle in relief.

The fight will be put off for another day. I must file this two-sided treasure away but I do need to enjoy this moment. So my feet move to her favourite song.