Surprise! I bet you thought you'd seen the last of me. :)

A few updates for those of you who care: still working on the novel. Also still working on TM fics when I need a distraction from the novel, but as you see I still write slow as molasses so it all trickles in bit by bit. Hope you enjoy this latest installment of Reflections. Since there's only one left to go now, I can now say with confidence that I think I can definitely finish this series before the year 2050.

xxx

Jane beat a hasty retreat after speaking with Mr. and Mrs. Prentiss. He hated being thanked by the victim's family members. If he could have actually saved their son from being killed, then maybe their thanks would actually be warranted. But saving people was outside his wheelhouse—that was more Lisbon's thing. All he could do was make sure the guilty parties were punished. He did find catching killers satisfying, after a fashion, but being thanked for it was intolerable. Listening to the Prentisses thank him for solving their son's murder was like being thanked for painting the mailbox after their house had burnt down.

Since he didn't feel like spending any more time talking to grieving parents or teenage psychopaths that night, he followed the trail that headed into the woods. Lisbon would no doubt be tied up with dealing with the distressed parents of the crumbling organization of Bright Arch after arresting not only one of the campers, but also the head of the camp, so he had some time. He might as well take advantage of the opportunity.

It was a beautiful night. Cool and crisp but not too cold to enjoy an evening stroll. Starlight winked at him through the trees as he made his way through the forest by the light of the gibbous moon. After about fifteen minutes, he came across a lovely little stream banked by a patch of daisies, so he found a convenient log and sat down to admire his surroundings.

He was in the middle of creating another daisy chain when Lisbon found him.

"There you are," she said, her tone of exasperation endearing in its familiarity. "Really? I didn't think even you would disappear on me out here in the woods in the middle of the night."

Jane looked up at her and smiled, delighted to have been discovered so unexpectedly. "How'd you find me?"

"I asked Orrin. He said he saw you heading this way." She shoved her hands in the pockets of her leather jacket and jerked her head back towards the path she'd followed to find him. "Come on, let's go. The others have already left."

He patted the log beside him. "Sit."

Her eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Why?"

"Because it's a beautiful night, and this is a lovely spot."

"Jane, it's late," she protested. "We still have to drive all the way back to Sacramento."

He patted the log again. "Just for a few minutes."

She heaved a heavy sigh and sat down next to him.

They sat in silence for a moment. Jane was enjoying the sounds of the forest with Lisbon by his side. Lisbon, on the other hand, only lasted a moment before turning to him and saying, "You don't find it creepy being out in the woods at night?"

"Not at all," he said. "It's peaceful." He grinned at her. "Why? Scared of ghosts?"

"No," she said scornfully. "I just don't want to deal with any more murderous teenagers pretending to be dead lumberjacks." She sat back and stretched her legs out in front of her, her hands still shoved into her jacket pockets as she looked up at the sky. "It is pretty out here, I guess," she admitted reluctantly.

"I'm impressed, Lisbon. You're demonstrating unusual patience tonight," he remarked. "Taking time to enjoy nature, not hustling me along like you usually do."

She shot him a glance, annoyed. "I just said it was pretty."

"Yes, and nothing calamitous has happened because you stopped charging from place to place and are taking the time to enjoy a peaceful moment, has it?" He continued before she could protest. "I'm just saying, giving in to my whim to spend time in the forest is unusual for you. Anything in particular prompting this uncharacteristic indulgence?"

She shrugged. "You did good work today."

"Really?" he said, pleased. Compliments from Lisbon were rare. He knew she valued his skills, but she was usually too busy yelling at him to bother with much positive reinforcement. Besides, she seemed to think it her personal responsibility to deflate his ego whenever possible, and she must think doling out compliments left and right would undermine this effort. He could understand why. Even this mildly delivered commendation was enough to cause his chest to puff up with pride.

"You stopped McClain from kidnapping Cassie, exposed him as a child rapist, and got Elliott to confess to killing Justin. Not a bad day's work."

"Plus I got to learn all about the tale of Zachariah and tell a ghost story. Don't forget that."

Lisbon rolled her eyes. "Yes, very impressive. You scared the crap out of a fifteen year old. Congratulations."

"Yeah, well, as you said. He's a psychopath. He deserved it."

She shook her head. "Only you would think of using a ghost story on a dark night in the woods to trap a killer. One of these days, some murderer is actually going to kill you, and then where will you be?"

"Dead and buried and no longer your problem," Jane pointed out.

"Yeah, right," Lisbon said. "Like your ego would let a little thing like being dead keep you out of the limelight. You'd probably decide to haunt me." She looked over at him in exasperation. "You'd be the most annoying ghost ever."

He grinned. "Boo."

"Very funny."

"Haunting you would be fun. I could follow you home to your apartment and amuse myself by scaring away your boyfriends."

She hit him on the shoulder. "Ass."

"Guess you'll just have to keep me alive if you want to save yourself from such a fate," he remarked.

"S'pose so," she said with a mock sigh. "At least now the threat of a punch in the nose from an angry suspect has an outside chance of curbing the worst of your behavior. If you were dead you'd be even more unmanageable than you are now."

"Lisbon," he said, wounded. "Are you implying that I'm at all manageable now? Take that back this instant."

A wry smile pulled at the corners of her mouth. "That might be a bit of an overstatement."

"All right," he said, satisfied.

She bumped her shoulder against his. "Van Pelt said you hightailed it out of there pretty quick after you talked to the Prentisses. Any particular reason?"

"They wanted to thank me," he said with a shudder.

"So?"

"It just seems like a strange thing to be thanked for," he said. "Sorry your son is dead, but at least we caught the kid who was manipulating a crew of teenagers into terrorizing anyone in the vicinity of this cultish camp you sent your child to attend?"

"Finding the killer gives closure to the families of the victims," she said. She looked at him searchingly. "Are you telling me that you of all people don't understand that? Isn't that what your hunt for Red John is all about?"

Jane brushed this aside. "That's different." Red John was a reason to get out of bed in the morning. Once he was gone— well, that was a different story. He didn't know what came after that. If closure came, that would be nice, of course. But he wasn't holding his breath. He tried not to think about after very much. He couldn't even imagine it. All he could see when he tried was a blank, gray screen.

But it was a beautiful night and he didn't want to think about that right now. He just wanted to sit by Lisbon and feel her sleeve brush against his and smell her soft scent mixed with the delicate breeze rustling through the trees.

He shook himself out of his gloomy thoughts and focused on holding up his end of the conversation. "I guess I get tired of it, sometimes," he said finally.

She looked at him, her gaze questioning. "Tired of what?"

"Being too late to make a difference. It just gets kind of depressing after a while, running around chasing killers but never, you know, managing to keep people alive in the first place."

She gave him a strange look. "Jane, what on earth do you think it is we're doing here? In your addled mind, what is the point of chasing all these murderers in the first place?"

"To mete out justice to the guilty?"

"You think that's why I signed up to be a cop?" Lisbon said. "We do this protect people, Jane."

He shook his head. "It's different for you. You actually save people's lives. But my part of the job is just to come in after the carnage and point at the culprit. That's not saving anyone. It's just making sure the right guy goes to jail."

"Are you kidding?" Lisbon said, incredulous. "Jane, you save people all the time."

He tilted his head. "What do you mean?"

"Jane, every time you catch a killer, you stop him from hurting anyone else."

"Meh," he said, dismissive. "Hypotheticals don't count."

"Of course they do," she said severely. "And even if they didn't, what about this case?"

"What about it?" he said, perplexed. Wasn't that exactly what they were talking about? How he couldn't save Justin?

She nudged him with her arm. "You saved Cassie."

"Oh." He pondered this. "I suppose I did."

She nodded, satisfied. "So your storytelling notwithstanding, you did good on this case."

"Don't even pretend you didn't like my storytelling, Lisbon. I know you were impressed by my Zachariah story. Want me to tell you another ghost story?"

"No, thanks," Lisbon said dryly. "I've had enough ghost stories to last me a while."

Jane pondered this for a moment. "Upon consideration, you're quite right. Maybe a more cheerful story is called for." He produced the crown of daisies he'd woven earlier and set it gently on her head. "Perhaps a story about a strong and brave forest queen."

Lisbon's lips parted softly in surprise, her eyes wide and startled as she looked up at him from underneath her crown. Seeing the circlet of flowers nestled in her dark hair, Jane reflected that she looked every bit the part of an elven queen. Those forest green eyes and moonlight pale skin. He could just imagine her leading troops to battle on a noble steed. She would inspire love and loyalty in her people. They would follow her wise leadership, her fearless courage, and her kind heart.

Lisbon cut her eyes away and stood up hastily. "We should get back," she said briskly.

"Very well," Jane said. He noticed she hadn't removed the crown from her head, though, and took heart. He looked at her beseechingly and held out his hand. "Help me up?"

Lisbon rolled her eyes but took his hand and hauled him to his feet.

"You could use a few more fairy tales in your life," Jane informed her, pretending to trip on a rock so he could justify holding on to her hand for a fleeting second longer.

"You can tell me one on the way back," Lisbon said, taking a firmer grip on his hand and pulling him back towards the path. "Tell me, does this story have a clever but annoying court jester?"

"As a matter of fact, it does," Jane said. And he began telling her the story as he followed her up the path in the moonlight, still wearing her white crown.