See previous chapters for warnings. All typos/wayward commas are my own.

Chapter 4

When Lisbon woke the next morning, Jane was sitting near their bedroom window, his feet propped up on a nearby bookcase and a sleeping Nora curled up in his arms. While she was certain he had slept through the night, he still looked pretty exhausted. She saw traces of the Jane of old, the man who had secreted away in the CBI attic to pore over case files and then a notebook of names, lingering at the corners of his eyes. The fear and worry that Jane lived with, that had melted away during their time in Austin was threatening to rear back up. But he had come so far, and together they were so strong. That he was sitting in their room, holding their daughter while Lisbon slept, was proof of just how strong. He wouldn't shut her out—and even if he tried, she'd barrel down the door. No lock could keep her out.

The threat the man Audrey called Teddy presented wasn't a new sort of threat. They'd encountered a wide range of criminal psychopathy during their time with the CBI and then with the FBI. But it was different now; they had a family. Both Jane and Lisbon knew how easy it was to fall victim to chance, to the villainous hand of others. Together they would keep their family safe, they would protect Nora and their safe haven in Pescadero. She wanted to watch Nora take her first steps in this house. She wanted Nora to draw on the walls with crayons and chase after the dog they'd inevitably get her. This lovely yellow house on a quiet little street was where she would grow old with Patrick Jane.

"You're thinking awfully loud back there, wife." Jane turned his head and cast an eye over his shoulder. Lisbon squinted against the ray of sun that cut through the blinds. "Care to share?"

"Oh, you know, just wondering where my coffee is." Lisbon followed his lead and kept the mood light. "And how long you've been sitting there."

"Well, noisy Nora woke at dawn and demanded, like a true Lisbon, to be fed. And then, again like a true Lisbon, fell promptly asleep after her belly was full." Jane looked down at his arms and ran a finger along the slope of the baby's nose, stopping when she opened her mouth in a tiny yawn.

"Oh, it's a rough life, keeping the Lisbon women fed and warm," she teased and he smiled faintly before looking up at her, his eyes full of love.

"Wouldn't have it any other way."

"In that case, how about you hand me the baby and go turn on the coffee pot." Lisbon brushed her hair back from her face before holding her arms out, expectantly.

Jane let out a surprised bark of laughter before standing.

"You're really milking this, huh?" Amusement was breaking through his melancholy.

"I'll take any opportunity for my husband to bring me coffee in bed."

"Hmm, I thought I was only turning the pot on. No one said anything about bringing any coffee, anywhere." He leaned down and placed a now awake Nora in her waiting arms. Before he could stand back up, Lisbon pulled him closer into a thorough kiss. Standing, he ran his tongue along his lower lip and grinned. "Well, when you put it like that, you make a very strong argument."

"I thought you'd agree."

Jane went down the hall to the kitchen while Lisbon let Nora stretch out on the bed. After the rough day they'd had yesterday, Lisbon was content to stay in bed for the next forty-eight hours. For a moment, she wondered if she could convince Jane to let the police handle the investigation into the vandalism at the tea shop.

"We both know that's unlikely, huh, little one?" Lisbon leaned closer to Nora who in return sighed her agreement. "You're a fast learner."

Lisbon could hear Jane rummaging around the kitchen, running water and grinding fresh coffee beans. Then abruptly, she heard something shatter. Tucking the baby against her shoulder, Lisbon made her way down the hall. Finding Jane pale and standing perfectly still sent a twinge of panic down her spine. Pieces of a shattered saucer and two slices of toast, butter side down, were at his feet.

"What?" Lisbon whispered, her voice tight. Nora squirmed in her arms and she forced herself to relax her hold. His eyes never meeting hers, Jane tilted his head to the small window above the kitchen sink.

There, pinned to the window screen, was another note. More poetry.

There will be time to murder and create,/ And time for all the works and days of hands.

This time, however, the lines of the poem were accompanied by a detailed sketch of a bird sitting atop a disembodied hand, palm turned up, fingers beginning to curl in a threatening grasp. There was something peculiar about the bird, something about the harsh lines of its eye seemed familiar. It looked like an Egyptian hieroglyph. It looked like the symbol from the Visualize center.

This was far more sinister than the half scrawled red smiley face on the previous note. Any idiot could type a few things into a search bar and make a connection. This was more personal. This took a bit more research. Or, she thought as her stomach sank, maybe it took no research at all.

Lisbon tightened her hold their daughter.

xXx

While the police came and took pictures and dusted the exterior of the window for prints, Jane disappeared into the garage, and then into their bedroom. By the time the police were packing up, he reappeared, fully buttoned up in a three-pieced suit. He stood near her elbow, flexing and unfurling his long fingers, one of his nervous tells. He made no move to take the baby from her arms. Lisbon hadn't put her down yet, and her muscles were growing stiff. Lisbon shifted on her feet, but again Jane made no move to take Nora. Instead, Lisbon placed the baby in the nearby play pen and moved to clean up the shattered saucer and toast.

"You want to talk about it?" From the corner of her eye she watched Jane. To a bystander, he no doubt seemed calm but alert. But Lisbon felt the frantic energy radiate off of him. She'd witnessed this countless times. He was retreating into himself. He had no warehouse attic to run to, but he was retreating just the same. That he hadn't taken Nora from her arms was the first clue. Wasn't it only hours ago that she'd mentally praised him? That he wouldn't shut her out again, never like that? Well, it made no difference. She wasn't going to let him slip back into old patterns.

"Hmm?" He stared at the kitchen window. The police had taken the note but Jane had an eidetic memory. He was likely remembering the angle of the note as the early morning breeze moved through the yard, the way the bird seemed poised to take flight right off of the paper, or the way the fingers seemed to twist…. What struck Lisbon most of all was the large unblinking eye, long dramatic lashes drawn out from the lids. The intent was clear. Visualize. It sent a chill through her body.

"Do you want to talk about that note?" It wasn't really a question. He turned to look at her and a chill once more moved through her body. This was feeling all too familiar and panic began to settle in. Things were different now—they were different now. Weren't they? They had a yellow little house with a white picket fence. They had a baby, a rooms littered with all the accessories that came with a baby. Jane had a tea shop, she had a consulting gig… They were different. They had slain the greatest beast they'd ever encountered, so why did this all feel so dangerously familiar?

Lisbon wasn't sure she could watch him turn in on himself once more. Couldn't watch him turn away from her.

Just as Nora began to fuss from her play pen, there was a knock at the front door. Jane moved to answer the door, but Lisbon stopped him, her hand pressed against his chest. He took a step back, meeting her eyes for the first time since she'd kissed him in their bed and sent him off to fetch her coffee. He looked haunted. Lisbon pressed forward.

"Watch her." Her tone left no room for argument and he gave a quick nod. Then, standing on tip toes, Lisbon looked out the small window of the thick door, the faceted glass giving the man on her front porch three faces. Falling back onto her heels she cast a glance over to Jane. He didn't look up at her. No doubt he'd guessed who was at their door. Instead he watched Nora, or rather he watched the empty space next to Nora.

Lisbon turned the deadbolt and flung open the door. She wasn't necessarily unhappy to see their guest, but she knew better than to assume it was a casual coincidence.

"Hey, boss," Kimball Cho greeted, standing on her porch with his perfect posture and ever-stoic expression. "Heard you could use some backup."

xXx