Summary:
It isn't Abbott but a complete stranger who visits Lisbon in Washington, asking questions about Jane's whereabouts. Investigations concerning his interest in Jane raise more worries than answers.
A/N:
My first inspiration to write this came from Jane mentioning his 'native style' in his letter to Lisbon and that maybe she would get to see it one day. This fic kinda developed from there - into something a bit bigger. I love 'My Blue Heaven', this is just an idea I had, and I decided to follow my muse.
I follow a lot of the events of 'My Blue Heaven' in this, changing things up on my way. Call it lazy, but I definitely had fun writing it - btw, Agent Fischer kinda just got forgotten. This is pretty much an AU to that particular episode, but it also goes a bit further. Expect fluff, a bit of angst and some hurt/comfort, this fic has it all, lmao.
5 out of approx. 8/9 chapters of this fic are already finished, but since I'm still working on the rest while currently preparing for uni exams I'm gonna stick to max. 2 chapters a week, though you better expect a weekly update schedule.
Some elements of the first chapter were inspired by the songs 'Old Again' by ZIAN and 'Wrecked' by Imagine Dragons (Yes, it's those artists again, don't ask me why, idk).
Thanks for checking this out, I hope you enjoy the journey!
Also: Thanks a lot for the comments on my last fanfic - every one of them is a gift :D
Chapter 1 - One More Rainy Day
You being absent is the one thing that's made this new chapter strange and sad.
-x-
Lisbon hung her jacket and holster on the rack in her office, went around her desk to set her gun down into the drawer and sat down. After taking off the clip-on tie, she dropped it into the drawer with her gun, already opening the upper buttons on her uniform. Within one and a half years the procedure had become routine, something she did without much thought at all.
She sighed silently. Eighteen months now she had spent with drunk drivers, searching for stolen vehicles and the accompanying paperwork. So much paperwork. There were times when she thought she'd turned into a real pencil-pusher, barely ever getting to leave her office. She'd been glad to go and do something else, talking to those kids this morning. But it still wasn't what she was looking for.
It wasn't anything that actually needed her. Her team wasn't with her. Jane wasn't there. She missed her days with the CBI, but she did her best not to dwell on it. Things had happened, and she had to move on like everyone else already had.
In fact, she had moved on too. In a way. It was a good job that she had now. Helping the community. Solid work. She was just about to tend to the file that had been waiting for her on her desk, when Henry knocked on her door.
Placing the file back on the desk, Lisbon looked up at him standing in the open door. "Hey, Henry, what's up?" As used to his insecure character as she was by now, he still seemed a bit overly nervous to her.
"There's a man here who wants to speak with you.". He paused before continuing with a lowered voice: "He says he's with the FBI."
Lisbon raised her brows. "FBI?" They'd finally left her alone since the trial, giving up the hope she would make a mistake and lead them to Jane. What did they want now?
"That's what he said," Henry answered tentatively, "he doesn't look much like FBI to me though."
"He doesn't…? Oh, never mind. Send him in." The sooner she dealt with them the sooner they'd leave her alone again. When Henry nodded and left her office, Lisbon waited, but nobody entered. A moment later her phone rang.
Lisbon picked up using the speakerphone function. "Yes?"
"Do you want me to let him in now?" Henry asked.
"Yes."
At the moment he entered her office, Lisbon knew what Henry had meant saying the man didn't look like FBI. She didn't need all those years watching Jane reading people to know Henry's instinct had been right. The man closing her office door behind him had the right posture - straight and speaking of a job with authority - but no respectable agent would wear a suit this obviously worn out, sun bleached and with the seams starting to come loose. Nevertheless, he was here now, so she might as well hear why.
"You must be Chief Lisbon." he said, opening the lower button on his jacket before he sat down in the chair in front of her desk.
"That's me, yes." Mustering the man more closely, Lisbon figured that the suit was misleading. It wasn't the clothing of someone who didn't care much about his appearance. The man before her was too well groomed for that, his short brown hair slightly graying but combed and not a hint of a stubble.
"I'm Francis Adler," he offered.
"I see." Lisbon paused, then added: "You're not FBI."
He smiled at that. "No, I'm not."
"Hmm." Interesting enough that he didn't even attempt to keep his masquerade up, but then again, it had come off before he'd entered her office.
Nodding to himself, Adler let his gaze wander through the room. "Nice office you've got here." His voice was casual, but Lisbon was surprised to hear a hint of bitterness as well.
"How can I help you?" she asked dryly, drawing his attention back to her.
He had put a hand on her desk, tapping the surface with his fingers while looking straight at her, mustering her. Finally, he said: "I heard you worked quite a long time with a man called Patrick Jane. You two were with the CBI, am I right?"
"He was a consultant." So this was about Jane after all. Lisbon mustered the man more closely, wondering whether she'd ever seen him before, if she knew about any connection to Jane, but she couldn't recall so. The man didn't look like a carny person either, not enough glamour for a performer, too much authoritative attitude for your ordinary tilt-a-whirl operator.
"Right." Adler quietly clucked his tongue. "He um, … seems to have vanished after all that uproar in the media about the CBI's director being the serial killer Red John. I heard he is wanted for murder."
Lisbon refrained from correcting him about Bertram's role in the whole game, simply waiting for the other to continue.
"I also was told you two were quite close back then." True. Back then.
"That was a long time ago." She was internally debating on telling Adler to leave, but her police instinct, and admittedly a sense of nosiness, demanded her to find out more about him - why he was inquiring about her old consultant.
"There's a possibility he told you where he went."
"He didn't."
Adler raised his brows at her, once again tapping the wooden surface of her desk with his fingers, coming close to the cowrie shell Jane had sent her with one of his letters. He was playing the same game as her, waiting for the silence to make her speak and offer any kind of information he could use.
Directing her eyes back at the man's face, Lisbon added coldly: "I don't know where Jane is, and frankly, I don't care." It had been two years. She had a new job. She'd moved on. Or at least she was about to, she had been trying to do so for two years, and one day she would manage to. She didn't need Patrick Jane.
"What do you want from him?" she asked, when the silence in her office threatened to go on forever. She was losing her patience.
Adler stopped tapping the desk with his fingers, his eyes briefly darting at the cowrie and Lisbon wondered if there was a hint of a smile on his lips, but it was gone too soon to be certain. "Can you send him a message?" he asked.
"No."
"Then I don't know why you should mind." With that, Adler got up from his chair, casually buttoned his jacket, the action speaking of routine, and went for the door. He'd already opened it, when he turned around and added: "Thank you for your time, Chief Lisbon." Then he left.
Lisbon was on her feet as soon as she heard the door to the little police station close behind him, walking into the front room to look out the window, hoping to catch a look at Adler, when he got into his car. Henry was already standing at the window, but seeing Lisbon, he shook his head and turned away, muttering: "He's gone."
She nodded, grinding her teeth and casting a look at the little parking lot anyway. Gravel, and on the other side of the bumpy road pine trees, all gray and blurred by a constant drizzle. The police station was set on the outskirts of the small town, though thinking about it, Lisbon would consider almost every place as on the outskirt of this town. There wasn't much that could be called a town at all, just a few buildings sitting closer together, seamlessly merging into the surrounding communities.
She frowned at the rain. Within the last week the temperatures had fallen rapidly. Any day now there'd be the first snow.
"Um… You've worked with FBI agents before, right?" It was Henry, pulling her from her thoughts. Lisbon turned away from the window.
"When someone tells you they're FBI, you ask to see their badge." she instructed him bluntly.
"Yes, ma'am. I'm sorry." He looked downcast and Lisbon repressed a sigh. She didn't need to reprimand him further, he would beat himself up about it more than enough, and it wasn't fair to use him as a punchbag for her frustration.
"Did you happen to see his license plate?" she asked instead.
Henry shook his head. "No." But his glum expression vanished when his eyes lit up, and he added: "But the cameras should've caught him."
In a second he was at the desk with the surveillance cameras, Lisbon close on his heels, watching as he wound the tape back to when Adler stepped out of his car.
-x-
The thought of Patrick Jane followed Lisbon everywhere she went the next days, like a shadow in her mind. This afternoon she'd found herself staring at the cowrie shell on her desk for what had to have been the better part of an hour. After that she'd hidden the shell in one of her desk drawers, only to put it back on the desk before she left her office. She liked that shell, it reminded her of the sun and warm days at the beach, making her hope that wherever Jane was, he was happy. Healing.
Stopping in the doorway, Lisbon looked back at it sitting in its designated place on her desk. She swallowed. There had been something in the way Adler had smiled when he'd noticed her gazing at it during their conversation that didn't feel good. Truthfully, nothing about that conversation had felt good.
It was odd, a complete stranger asking her questions about Jane's whereabouts two years after he'd run from the FBI. A search for the license plate on Adler's car had only led to the rental place at a national airport close to Seattle.
Stepping out of the little police station, she pulled her jacket closer around her against the cold humidity. Already there was sleet collecting in her hair and on her arms. Hurriedly she went to her car. Today was Saturday. Grace and Rigsby were coming for dinner.
Lisbon tried to chase the thought of Jane out of her mind on her way to her small condo and after that when she took a shower and changed. It didn't work. She was still feeling glum while driving to the restaurant she'd chosen for them. It caused her to feel like a bad host, with her mind drifting away all throughout dinner and later when they were enjoying wine together sitting on the two couches in her living room next to the fire place. She kept wondering about Jane's whereabouts herself, and why a stranger was looking for him now, this long after he'd run from the FBI.
She did her best to keep up the conversation though, nodding, asking questions. Her friends were doing good, busy with their kids and the company, but thriving. It made her smile. When Grace asked her how things were going for her, she resorted to the old 'it's nice and quiet'. What else was she supposed to say? That she was lonely? People didn't want to hear those things - well, her friends would certainly listen, be sympathetic and even understand her, but what would that change? She didn't need to bother them. And anyway, her life was good, wasn't it? She had a job, food, enough money to be able to put some aside even. There were people who had it way worse - she'd been through worse. She wouldn't complain.
Grace's cell phone started ringing, and she fished it out of her pocket, casting a look at it. "It's the babysitter. Excuse me." she mumbled and stood to take a few steps away and answer the call. "Hello?"
Shifting to sit in her place, Rigsby leaned forward and lowered his voice, saying apologetically: "Maddy's got a slight fever."
"Ahh."
"Grace worries. I try and tell her it's nothing, but first baby, you know?"
"Sure." She paused briefly, before she added: "Can I ask you something, Wayne?"
He took a sip from his wine. "Mm."
"Do you ever miss the CBI?" She tried herself at a smile, hoping to hide her true feelings.
"Hmm. Sure. Sometimes. I mean, Grace and I are so busy, I don't really have much time to think about it. Things are so hectic." He cast a look over his shoulder at Grace.
That meant 'no'. Of course not. Why should he? Grace and him had moved on, started their own company and were living a good life with their family. Lisbon decided to go with it. "Hmm. I used to miss it, but not anymore. Yeah. Everything here's good." she added, underlining her words with a gesture of her hand, "You know, it's just - it's good."
"That's great, boss."
"I am not your boss anymore." She chuckled. It had been two years.
Ending her call, Grace returned to the couch Rigsby was sitting on. "She says her fever's up to 102.7."
"Oh. I'm sorry." He got up immediately, adding: "We're out of here."
Grace gave her an apologetic look. "I'm so sorry."
"No, it's fine." Lisbon protested calmly, setting her glass on the table and rising from the couch herself. "But I'll walk you to your car."
Outside, Rigsby was already starting the car's engine, when Grace turned around, standing in the opened passenger door. "I'm really sorry. We should do this again."
"Oh, don't worry, it's fine. Look after your child." Lisbon added with a soft smile, the crisp night air making her shiver without a jacket. But when Grace sat down on the passenger seat, Lisbon grabbed the handle of the door, holding it open. "I'm sorry, Grace, but could you do me a favor? Could you look up a man called Francis Adler?"
Grace furrowed her brows, irritated. "Sure, boss. Who's that?"
"That's what I'd like to know. Everything you can find about him." She paused and looked away at the shadows of the night for a moment before she said: "He met me at my office a few days ago. Asking questions about Jane."
"Jane?"
Lisbon scrunched her face. "That's all I know. It was odd. But you should go, take care of Maddie." She took her hand from the door handle.
"Francis Adler?" Rigsby repeated, as Grace was taking out a notebook. Good old police habits.
"Yes."
"Got it." Grace went to close the door, but stopped short, adding: "Hey, Teresa, take care."
Lisbon smiled, waving as they left her parking lot. They were good friends to her, she'd missed them. She hadn't seen them for far too long. She'd barely met new people in Washington. First, when she'd moved here, people she'd encountered through her work had made attempts at getting to know her and by now she felt like she knew the entire life of the barista she used to head to when the work was quiet. Granted, it was often quiet, so she went to get a good coffee almost every second day and the barista was chatty. Lisbon would've preferred to get her coffee in silence and leave. But the town was small and everybody seemed to know each other's and their family's life history. Lisbon missed Sacramento. Where one just ignored each other's existence, except for the habitual exchange of courtesies.
Yet at some point people had stopped inviting her or talking to her when they met her at the bar, not counting the one or two drunks hitting on her. Once or twice she'd even considered more or less actively looking for a partner herself, something easy without commitment. Then there'd been a one-night stand that had left her feeling hollow, so she'd given up on the whole idea.
Seeing her friends thrive was wonderful, but at the same time it showed her all the things she didn't have. The fulfilling career somehow weighing less than their family, their kids. And of course they had each other. They'd shown her photos of Ben and Maddie being the cutest kids one could imagine. Lisbon loved seeing them and listening to the stories of the proud parents, but at the same time they made her heart pang with loneliness, even when she wasn't sure if she wanted kids herself.
Once there had been a person in her life she might've felt safe enough to talk to about those feelings. He would've known and simply started the conversation for her in this charming direct way that he sometimes had, giving her a chance to talk about how she felt while skipping at least that part. But he wasn't with her anymore. The closest friend she'd ever had had left her two years ago.
Sighing, Lisbon got back into the house, pretty much straight heading for her living room shelf to take out the box with the letters Jane had sent her. Placing it on the low coffee table, she took the lid off, and looked for one of her favorite ones. Every new one was wonderful, making her feel close to him again and showing he still thought about her. Most of the letters she already knew by heart. But there were some that stood out, almost letting her hear his voice. With her wine glass in her right hand she settled back on her couch, smiling as she began to read, a familiar warmth spreading in her chest.
-x-
It was drizzling when Lisbon stepped out of her car the following day, the water dripping off the rim of her baseball cap and running down her raincoat. She was lucky it wasn't windy, and the rain wasn't blowing into her face. Sighing, she locked the car and got on her way along the path up a few wooden steps following a little incline to the viewpoint.
She didn't exactly know what brought her here. Her thoughts had kept ruminating all during her Sunday cleaning routine and finished with her tasks, she had not wasted much time before grabbing a coat and getting into her car. And the road had somehow just let her to the coast. It felt ages ago, that she'd been at the coast, she didn't live far away from it, only a little over an hour, but somehow she had never made it out here. Probably because the ocean and its waves washing onto the shore reminded her too much of him. Patrick Jane loved the ocean - and that was likely why Lisbon was standing here now. At a viewpoint overlooking a coastline in Washington State.
The view was likely stunning in sunny weather, Lisbon mused, but to her there was only gray in gray. Gray waves blurred behind a gray veil of rain, crushing onto a gray shore of rocks of all sizes.
She swallowed, remembering the last time she'd looked out across the ocean from an elevated point of view. It had been right after Abbott had let her team leave the unfurnished CBI building - not without telling them not to miss the trial that awaited them. Lisbon hadn't cared much. She'd known what would come and had resigned herself to her fate while the hours stretched as they had been waiting on any sign of what was going on. Learning that Jane had escaped his arrest had been equally foreseeable as that they would all have to face a trial themselves. The true relieving message had been that he had survived his encounter with Red John.
It was good she'd gotten back her phone, the message Jane had left somewhat managing to calm her nerves, but she'd still driven all the way to that spot at the Malibu beach. She hadn't been able to help herself, it had just felt like she needed to be there. Maybe she'd hoped he would come back there himself? He hadn't. Lisbon had stayed there till it got dark, but Jane had never shown up. It was probably good, that way he'd had a head start to the FBI.
But Lisbon had had to realize that her best friend had left her right at the moment when the world around her had fallen apart. And right now, thinking of him as much as she had during the last week, his absence felt just as hurtful as it had back then.
What he'd done - running away - it had been the right decision, and rationally Lisbon knew so. But deep inside her, her heart was screaming at the memory, the realization that she wouldn't see him again. Probably never. That he was truly gone.
The arrival of the first letter had finally been able to soothe some of that pain, quell the fire into a little flame - there to constantly carry around with her. The grief at the loss of him. Her partner. Her best friend. Leaving her, surrounded by people every day, but still alone. Getting a new job had helped too, it gave her something to do with the time she had even though it was much slower and less stimulating than what she was used to. She'd made a habit of burying herself in work whenever she'd felt bad, maybe not the healthiest way to go about it, but it did help somewhat, but this job just didn't offer that kind of stress relieve.
She would give much, if not everything, to hear Jane's voice again, see his smug smile and the teasing look in his eyes. She might never tell him so, but she missed his shenanigans. The letters brought her some of him back. Letting her be part of his life, however small that part was. But they showed he was still thinking of her, showed he cared.
She knew she needed to finally move on. One day. But it was hard. Harder even when she had reason to be worried about him.
Lisbon only noticed she was shivering with the cold rain creeping in at the edges of her coat, when her phone ringed. Cold fingers clasping around the phone in her pocket she took it out and glanced at it. Grace. She frowned. She hadn't expected her to call so soon.
"Lisbon," she answered when she picked up the call.
"Hi, boss, you got a moment?" Her friend's voice sounded serious, causing a cold shiver to run down Lisbon's back.
"Sure. But I'm not your boss, Grace."
Lisbon could hear her flinch. "I know, habit. Sorry."
"How's Maddie?", she asked, turning away from the ocean view and starting to make her way back to her car. There was no sense in standing at a place like this and musing about how much her life had changed. She would drive back home, have a nice warm bath and start tomorrow in a better mood. The wooden steps down the incline were slippery from the rain and Lisbon had to take every step carefully while listening to Grace.
"Oh, a bit better, thank you. She's still febrile, and coughing now, but the linctus is helping. Wayne is with her. Hey, I'm so sorry we had to leave early yesterday." For a moment her old friend's voice had brightened a bit, but the tone was serious again, when she added: "Listen, you better sit down."
"Ok." Lisbon had almost reached her car, but the comment made her stop in her tracks, waiting for Grace to continue.
"Are you?"
She sighed. "One minute." Walking the remaining distance to her car, she unlocked it and got onto the driver seat. "I'm sitting."
"Good. Well, I just did some research about this Adler guy you asked about."
"Mhm."
"Turns out he worked for the FBI in California, but about two years ago he lost his job. Fired. Never got a new job with law enforcement afterwards, even though it seems he applied a couple times, so I started digging deeper. And that's where it got interesting: The names of his co-workers at the FBI were ringing some bells. One of those was Reede Smith, but listen, he worked closely with a bunch of the Blake Association. Never was proven to belong to them himself, so they let him go, but…" Grace took a deep breath. "Boss, it seems Adler worked for Red John's people."
-x-
Returning home, Lisbon found herself staring at her living room coffee table with all the letters Jane had ever send her opened and placed upon it. Little colorful sticky notes showed where he had given hints to his location.
She'd done this before, but back then it had mostly been her trying to give herself a task to forget about her loneliness - now she needed the answer. Now it might mean her old friend's safety.