Author's Note: So I wanted the team to have a WTF moment when they realise Weller arrested Jane, because in my opinion, that was completely illegal on his part. He didn't know what had happened with Oscar or Mayfair at that point, and he was just basically throwing a tantrum because of one small memory Jane faked when she was under pressure by both Kurt and his father. The rest was his own assumptions crashing down around him, and he took it out on her. Anyway. mini-rant over. Enjoy the fic!

"Thanks for coming in here. I wanted to keep this between us for now." Weller took a seat at the head of the conference room table. The rest of his team settled down, their eyes all on him.

"What's going on?" Reade asked, and Kurt took a breath, preparing to get this over with.

"Wait, we're not gonna wait for Jane?" Zapata popped the tab on her soda can, frowning.

Just the sound of Jane's name made him flinch inwardly, but he steeled himself and shook his head. "That's what I wanted to talk to you about, amongst other things. Let me do this in the order that makes sense."

They waited, Reade and Zapata sharply attentive now that Jane's absence had been noted. Patterson, who'd still been in the building when he'd brought Jane in last night, gave him a sympathetic look that he couldn't bring himself to acknowledge.

"You all know my father died a couple of days ago. On his deathbed he confessed to the murder of Taylor Shaw."

"I thought Jane was Taylor Shaw." Reade sat forward, catching on.

Kurt shook his head, bitterness welling up inside him. "I found Taylor's body yesterday where he told me to look, up at the camping site we used to go to as kids. Her bones and rain boots and her favourite doll—" He bit down on the rest, knowing his voice would crack if he carried on.

"God, Weller, I'm so sorry," Zapata murmured.

"But didn't Jane have Taylor's DNA?" Reade asked.

"Someone must have switched Taylor's sample out for Jane's in the original case files. Twenty-five years ago, nothing was computerised, so they didn't even need to hack in." Patterson shook her head. "I should have thought of that possibility sooner."

"Not your fault." It was mine. They knew Taylor was important to me and they wanted to make sure I kept Jane close by. As if the tattoo of my name on her back wasn't enough of a reason for that.

"So whoever tattooed Jane also wanted you to believe she was Taylor," Zapata continued. "Does Jane know? That you found Taylor?"

Weller nodded. "She was somewhere else when I went to her place looking for her last night. She came home around one in the morning and I arrested her."

Patterson sighed. The other two stared at him like he'd grown an extra head.

"For what?" Reade asked blankly. "Not being Taylor Shaw?"

"But we were the ones who told her she was," Zapata said. "I don't get it. Why would you arrest her? You think she knows more than she's telling?"

"Full disclosure: I was drunk and pissed off last night. I wasn't thinking straight and I made a bad call. Jane pretended a while back that she remembered fishing with me and my father. I don't know how; must have been a lucky guess. But she lied, and I guess it was just one thing too much to cope with. If I could do it again, I would have listened to what she had to say and then made my decision about arresting her, but it's too late for that now."

"So we interrogate her, see if she knew she wasn't Taylor all along?" Reade was still struggling with the puzzle pieces. "You think she knows more than she's saying about Mayfair's disappearance, too?"

Patterson took over. "The CIA checked Jane out of holding last night. I tried to track them, but…they're the CIA. They know how to stay off the radar. Jane could be anywhere right now."

"I don't know what to think, here. Are we looking for Jane as a suspect in Mayfair's disappearance, as a victim we need to get back from the CIA before they make her vanish forever, or as a missing asset of the FBI?" Zapata got to her feet, ready to get to work.

"All of the above." Weller got up, too. "Don't tell anyone I found Taylor's body. Her mother's dead. Sarah and I know the truth. No one else needs to know my father really did kill him. I'll bury her somewhere else, somewhere nice, and that's all that's needed. Am I clear?"

Nods all round. He couldn't bear the sympathetic understanding radiating from them all right now, so he made for the door. "I'm going to talk to Pellington."

"Weller." Reade stopped him before he could complete his escape. "What did Jane say last night?"

"I wouldn't let her talk." The admission sapped some of the tension from Kurt's shoulders, and he rubbed a hand across his face to hide some of his shame. "She came in covered in soot and bruises, looked like she'd been in a fire and a fistfight, and wanted to tell me what had happened. I wouldn't let her. I told her about Taylor and I accused her of lying to us… to me. Then I arrested her and told her I'd listen to her side of things today. And now she's gone."

"She could have seen Mayfair," Zapata said, a tinge of accusation in her voice.

"You think I don't regret it now?" He turned on her, turned on all of them, knowing he was out of control but not caring. "You think that didn't already occur to me? I have no idea what our next move is, so why don't you get out there and find me somewhere to go?"

Both Zapata and Reade left without a word, their sullen demeanours confirming that they blamed him for his faulty judgment. Patterson lingered behind, putting her hand on Weller's arm.

"Hey."

"I'm sorry." She was the only one left in the room to apologise to.

"You got your heart broken, Weller. By your dad and by Jane. I know they both understand that; they're just worried about Jane and Mayfair."

"I have no excuse. I wasn't objective and now Jane is suffering for it. Even if she was holding out on us, she doesn't deserve to be treated like a terrorist by the CIA."

"So let's get back to finding a way to save her. You go to Pellington; I'll check with the fire service for reports of large blazes last night."

"Thanks, Patterson."

She gave him a small smile. "We'll get her back, and keep looking for Mayfair. Everything will work out."

Weller squeezed her shoulder and left the conference room, wishing he could believe it was true.