A/N: Perfectly Imperfect.
A musical case in the world of country music. A bit of fluff that I wish we could've seen, (how dare they make it happen with Pike and not Jane). The mystery envelope from the end of last season makes its reappearance and Cho manages to surprise everyone.
Neither of them are well-adjusted individuals, or ones used to being in a relationship. They're far from perfect. I wanted to highlight relatable irrationalities and that they're mature enough adults to be able to work them through, especially with a foundation of years of friendship and partnership underneath them.
In canon, they did this through Jane pressuring Lisbon to leave the FBI. Considering her work is such an integral part of her life, I found this an odd push. And how quickly he was ready to up and leave, it just didn't seem right. Furthermore, it was all about Jane - Lisbon always the understanding saint, never a serious issue (apart from being fed up with his shit).
Pulled parallels from the start of 7x01 and the last scene of 7x09
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Weekends were far more interesting and worthwhile when life wasn't purely about work. A normal weekend for Lisbon in the past was spent reviewing closed case files, further delving into all details of any open cases, or reading the latest articles in criminology. And that was if they weren't called into a case. Weekdays and weekends would commonly blend into each other without differentiation, as crime didn't pay much pardon to what day of the week it was. There were parts of her in the past that preferred a busy weekend full of work to ones where she was forced to fill her days with the unfamiliarity of leisure and confront her workaholic-fuelled loneliness.
But they'd managed to enjoy a rare weekend off so far. Slumming around the house in their daggy loungewear, Jane looking unfairly exceptional in a baggy grey pair of trackpants and a plain white t-shirt, not bothering to shave that day. Somehow looking more attractive unkempt than when he made the effort to look civilised. The domesticity of it all made her heart swoon. She spent the better part of Saturday afternoon in her Bears' jersey lying on him on her couch, bowl of popcorn by her side as she watched her comfort movies. Jane lazily turning the pages of whatever philosophy novel he was currently enveloped in, drawing lazy circles on her skin with his finger or stroking her hair occasionally, as she used him for a pillow.
And the intimacy was something else altogether. From a virtual nun-like chastity for the practical part of a decade, Jane certainly seemed determined to make up for wasted time. From the nervous undertones and self-consciousness from their first encounter, he seemed to grow in confidence and skill every time they made love. The way he worshipped every inch of her body and could tell exactly what she liked. Just when she thought it couldn't possibly get any better, he'd find a way to prove her wrong. It was simply mind-blowing the things that man could make her feel.
Waking up with limbs comfortably intertwined was a heart-warming novelty. Exchanging soft Eskimo kisses as they toyed the line between asleep and awake, feeling like their canoodling bliss was more satisfying than anything their dreaming brains could make up. It was something she'd never done with previous partners, although they be few and far in-between. She liked her space. But with Jane, it was different. Which was something she found herself thinking quite regularly. It was like she even subconsciously searched him out in her sleep, always clawing to be as close to him as humanly possible.
A warm Sunday morning, she brushed and fluffed her hair as she waited for Jane's return from a morning walk for coffee.
It wasn't long until a tapping on the door brought a smile to her face.
She opened her door with intrepid enthusiasm and a bright "Hey!"
"Hey yourself," he replied, rebounding her bright enthusiasm. "It's such a nice morning. Let's sit out here"
They sipped their morning coffees as they basked in the morning rays sitting on the edge of her front porch. Jane enjoying the warmth angling toward the sky with his eyes closed.
"Should probably start thinking about getting you a key to this place, hey?" she said, biting her bottom lip and playing with the cross around her neck thoughtfully, "you're here that much."
He seemed to hesitate for a split second, which made the insecure side of her cringe subtly, awkwardly baring her teeth.
"Yeah, that certainly would make things easier," he smiled, his reaction melting her anxiety a touch. "That's a big step, Lisbon"
She linked arms with him, nodded her head and smiled. The contentedness she felt in this relationship was nice and oddly disarming. He made her heart flutter, her face smile with delight, the mere presence of him made her feel better about her life. It had been a good weekend, a real good weekend.
"It's a beautiful day," Jane started, "Shall we make the most of it?"
"What do you have in mind?"
"There's a festival down by the river at Shoal Beach, we could have a poke around?"
"Yeah, that sounds like fun"
Not too long after, they found themselves walking the edge of the Colorado River, holding hands, Lisbon's alabaster dress that Jane had bought her flapping in the wind. The smell of deep fried sweetness danced upon their nostrils harmonising with the mellow notes of country music and the hum of excited voices. They stopped at various stalls examining their wares, making small talk and enjoying the sunshine.
"Crap. Is that Abbott and his wife?" Lisbon remarked quickly dragging Jane by the hand she was holding behind a stack of haybales.
"What..?" asked Jane in confusion.
"Abbott and his wife are just over there"
"Yes, I heard that. But why are we hiding, Lisbon? Are you embarrassed to be seen with me?"
"Jane, you know"
"I know what?" he asked, facing her and noticing the fear and worry on her face.
"…Really?" he asked.
"Yes, just not yet," she spluttered clumsily.
"We could just be here as friends, you know? We have been friends for a while. Good friends I'd like to think"
"Yes, I know, I know. I just don't want anyone getting the wrong idea."
"And what might that idea be and what is so wrong about it, Lisbon?"
"Jane, please," she pleaded, a bit more panicked.
Jane sighed. He felt dejected. Whilst he wanted to be patient and understanding of Lisbon's desires for privacy or whatever insecure whims she might be feeling, it was all so frustrating all the same.
"Ok, come on then, let's go" he said, guiding her with a hand on her back.
They snuck out through the back side of the bales and the stalls and fled back to the car.
"So how long must we keep this apparent illicit affair a secret?" Jane asked
"I'm sorry," Lisbon pained sympathetically. "Thank you for understanding."
Jane sighed "Anything for you my love", he said half-heartedly
She reached over and grasped his hand lovingly, "Not forever. I promise." A wave of guilt replacing her panic.
He kissed the back of her hand. "I'll drop you home and head back to my motel. I just have some things I need to get done before work tomorrow," he said with a forced half-smile.
"Oh… okay," Lisbon said, slightly surprised. "Yes, me too."
They drove back in an unsure silence, their hands still gently clasped on the center console, feeling unusually out of sync for the first time in their short-lived relationship.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
The familiar buzz of the blackberry punctuated both their Sunday afternoons. New case files for the morning. Local PD was handing over a murder case of a body found in a roadside ditch along the highway between Austin and Houston. Corvin Daly, a 20-year-old from rural Arkansas. Attended an online college studying business with promising grades, an avid bassist. Online articles showing he had recently joined a touring country band, Highway Stallions, who were currently in Texas. All family still in Arkansas, parents and younger brother living and running an active beet farm. The band and the four other members he traveled with, seemingly his new family. Lisbon flicked through the information conscientiously, flicking back and forth to further examine images, reading each piece of information astutely to the final full stop.
Meanwhile, Jane skittered around his lonely motel room, not taking the same perspicacious interest in the case files as Lisbon did, scanning the memo summary and deciding the rest could wait until tomorrow. As the night turned late, he wondered if he should call Lisbon or simply go around to her place. It had been a while since they had spent a night apart and it felt somewhat odd not being in her presence. She confused him, in the space of a morning she had both proposed giving him a key to her house and shoved them away at the thought of being seen together in a romantic light.
He picked up his phone in hesitation, but put it back down again after a moment of thought. She was the one pushing back a bit, he didn't want to be too suffocating. Furthermore, phones worked two ways, and his hadn't given a peep since the case files came through. He lay down on his lumpy mattress, that he had nearly forgotten about, to try and get some sleep. He reassured himself, he only had another week or so here and he'd be bunking with her until the airstream arrived. And distance does make the heart grow fonder after all.
Lisbon lay in her cold bed, phone in hand. How did a Sunday with such a positive start end up with her all alone? She was torn. She didn't know whether to call him. She was worried that she pushed him away too hard today and she was being unreasonable over the covertness of their relationship. She just wasn't ready, her talk with Abbott after Jane's first case back ringing fresh in her mind. She was so adamant that there was nothing going on between her and Jane, that admitting it now to her boss seemed like a hard pill to swallow. Which she was more than aware was a juvenile and unfair attitude on her behalf.
The phone in her hand remained silent. She wondered about calling him, but she also didn't want to seem too clingy. She remembered the night from last week where she called him at ridiculous o'clock and he came over. She didn't want to make a habit of that, being the needy, emotionally inept one. If he wanted to be here, he'd call, she convinced herself. She sighed and tried to get some sleep arguing with herself about how much she missed him.
But as she twisted and turned, sleep would not become her. Her thoughts drifted to the mysterious blue envelope she had sitting on a shelf of her bookcase. The one that had been slipped under Jane's motel room door while they were in Sacramento not too long ago. The one that Jane had entrusted her with, refusing to open it almost in an acknowledgement of his own addictive personality. The one she was at liberty to open, if she was curious enough and saw fit.
She twisted it at the corners and flipped it over in her fingers. Their visit to Visualize had been odd. Although that described most visits to the cult-like facility, their latest visit seemed to outdo itself on the oddness scale. Taunted cruelly on the anniversary of his family's death after poking for answers, then this mystery envelope randomly appears.
She knew it would be better to let sleeping dogs lie. But she was beginning to be empathetic with Jane – insomnia allowed the mind to explore places beyond logic and reason.
She bit her lip softly. A tiny peek wouldn't hurt. She needn't even tell Jane about it.
She cautiously peeled the back of the envelope free, being careful not to damage it, and slid the note out.
And in the blink of an eye, it happened. A plume of what seemed like powder exploded straight into her face, invading her eyes, nose and mouth in an instant. She gasped and coughed, her vision distorted, her eyes stinging. What was it? Anthrax? Some kind of poison? She panicked. It had gotten her real good, whatever kind of biological attack this was, she was in a lot of trouble. This was not going to end well.
Jane had enemies a plenty. A whole network of corrupt law enforcement bitter from disbandment and consequence. Criminals, cops and lawyers he'd burned along the way. It would make perfect sense for something slipped under his door to be a covert malicious attack.
It was stinging her eyes so badly, she frantically open and shut them rapidly, trying to blink them out and not risking her hands pushing whatever it was further into her system. She coughed and spluttered, holding herself up with one hand on the bookcase, fighting for air as she could feel it all through her airways. This was it. This was how she was going to meet her demise. And only when she had just started something real and meaningful with Jane. Her mind jumping to the worst possible conclusion as she continued to panic.
Oh crap, Jane, she thought. He was not going to deal with this well. If anything happened to her, she didn't know how he'd cope. Blaming himself every step of the way, considering the envelope was meant for him. He would never fully recover from this.
She went fumbling for her phone, finally being able to see through her aggravated and watery eyes. She needed to get help, some kind of medical attention, although she knew that if this was a biological attack, there wasn't much anyone could do. But all she really wanted to do was call Jane. She finally found her Blackberry and used all her might to clear her eyes and focus on the buttons she needed to press.
As her sight homed in as she'd managed to blink most of it out, she got the first real good look at her hands upon the phone keys. They appeared to be a different colour. Many colours. With a real sparkle to them. She furrowed her brow and stomped over to her closest mirror. She didn't know how to react to the sight that affronted her. Top to tit, she was covered in glitter. Run-of-the-mill, children's variety, sparkly glitter. Confused, but coming to terms with the fact that she probably wasn't falling victim to biological warfare, she trudged over to where she had dropped the note to the floor milliseconds after she was assaulted.
A little glitter for breakfast and the whole day will sparkle
Curiosity killed the cat. Meow!
I knew you'd be just as interested! – U no hoo
"Jackass," she muttered under her breath. She flipped over the note and rechecked the envelope. Nothing. Just a stupid prank from Jane. All that glitter and panic, another one of his tricks.
There was no way she was telling him that she'd opened the letter and how she'd reacted to it. No way she'd give him that satisfaction.
She grunted. It would be easy to stay cranky at him if she wasn't quite so worried that her actions and insecurities from today had somewhat tarnished their budding relationship.
She sighed, wondering how the hell she was going to sleep now with the adrenalin coursing through her veins, and how the hell she was going to get all this glitter out of everything. She took one last look at herself in the mirror and laughed at the sight.
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The next morning consisted of briefings and delegations. Their primary suspect, a Moses Anderson, ex-member of the Highway Stallions, charged with assaulting Daly a matter of weeks prior. Charges were dropped, but Daly had still replaced Anderson within the band. Not his first violent felony, weapons charges and other colourful assault charges littering his record, as well as a 2-year stint in federal prison. Currently on probation, they gained a warrant to bring him in, knowing that he wasn't likely to come in quietly and likely that he was cranky, armed and dangerous.
Cho discussed the case with the team and the detailed plan therein. Lisbon found her concentration uncharacteristically dipping as she tried her hardest to get a read on Jane. She wasn't sure how annoyed or upset or anything he was from yesterday, or whether she was just overthinking things too much. It was times like this she wished she had Jane's little crazy psychic mind-reading tricks. Cho made the call to send Jane with Vega to interview the band members and manager, while himself and Lisbon would lead the team executing the hot warrant on Anderson.
"I'm taking the experience with me on this one" Cho explained "we're going in Kevlar too, taking all extra precautions"
While Lisbon understood Cho's logic and agreed with his sound judgement, she was a little disappointed inside that she would not be spending the day with Jane, especially since their distance last night. However, she was a professional, she reminded herself. They had a job to do.
She approached Jane just as they were ready to move out.
"Hey, are we good?" she asked a little apprehensively
"Yeah, we're good," he said with a loving smile. "I missed you last night," he whispered.
She smiled with relief and touched his elbow sympathetically. "I missed you too," she admitted.
"You opened the letter," he said with an evil grin.
She gave him a look. Honestly, some days, she was absolutely convinced he could read minds.
"No, I can't read minds," he smirked as he read her mind. "You still have glitter in your eyebrows, hairline above your ear, nail beds…" he started pointing out.
"You frigging glitter bombed me!"
"Yeah, sorry about that," he said with a chortle. "I just didn't want you opening, reading it, and not telling me. If you get to know, I get to know too."
"And you couldn't think of doing any other way than getting glitter over everything?"
"Glitter. It's the herpes of the craft world. Can never fully get rid of it."
"Ugh, gross. That's disgusting," she screwed her face up in horror.
"It was simply the easiest way to find out if you opened it, and by admission through your actions, as just as curious as this Visualize nonsense as I am," he reasoned
"I thought you weren't interested?"
"Only as interested as you are," he said with a cheeky smile. "The actual envelope is in your possession. At your place. And now we can open it together," his grin just getting bigger as he spoke.
She gave him a fed up look, but she couldn't help but admire the way he operated. And more so, she was relieved that they seemed okay, like things were normal between them.
"So, there is an actual envelope?" she questioned skeptically. "This just isn't your idea of a twisted practical joke?"
"No, of course not. There is an envelope," he confirmed. "And come on. If it was really me trying to pull a practical joke, it would be a lot better than a simple glitter-flinger in an envelope."
"Fake turd more your speed?"
"No, I'm more of a car keys in a puzzle box kind of guy."
"Well lucky I keep a hammer handy then"
He smiled at her, a faint gleam of worry in his eye.
"Rough trot this morning, hey?"
"Nothing worse than anything I've seen before"
"That's for sure," he agreed. "I wish I could give you a hug," he whispered a little quietly.
"Yeah, me too"
Their eyes locked in a longing, poignant stare, like their eye contact could compensate for the lack of physical contact. Something they'd proved to be quite the experts at over the years.
She thought for a moment. "Hell, I'm going out in Kevlar, I think a hug is justified," she said as she pulled him into a tight embrace. His scent, his warmth, the feel of his arms around her and his chest against hers… it was everything she was yearning for and had missed from that night before. Well almost everything. That reassuring contact easing her worrisome mind that all was still good and fine between them. She held him tight and relished the moment.
He smiled. "And you," she pointed her finger at him "You behave yourself out there today," she said as she turned to leave. She stopped awkwardly at Wylie in the doorway, casually sipping on a juice box, watching their exchange. She looked at him questioningly, and pulled him in for a tight hug, much to his surprise. She held him for moments longer than what would generally be accepted as a normal hug time between colleagues. Wylie looked over at Jane confused, patting her on the back with his one free hand while he focused on not spilling his juice box with the other. "What the," he mouthed at Jane silently.
Jane returned a look of bewilderment and masked amusement.
"Wish us luck," she said as she pulled away from him, her face burning, wondering if that was the right move to make her hug with Jane seem less suss.
"Uh good luck," Wylie obliged as she left the room.
"That was weird," Wylie approached Jane and said, after his first ever hug from Lisbon. "I never thought she was a hugger"
"Eh, your demeanour grows sentimental when you head out in full Kevlar," Jane justified.
"Right. Yeah, I suppose," Wylie agreed. "But just so you know, there's absolutely nothing going on between me and Lisbon"
"Now why would I think that?"
"I just didn't want you to get the wrong idea from that hug"
Jane looked at him with a raised eyebrow.
"She is a senior agent on this team and a very nice girl. Woman. Female. Lady person," he stuttered. "I haven't been putting the moves on your lady—"
"She's not my lady, I don't own her," Jane tried to correct, but Wylie just kept babbling over the top.
"She just hugged me, and I didn't stop it. Maybe I should have. But she just clamped in and didn't let go. She just held me. For like, so long. And I didn't want to push her away"
"—Wylie…"
"It was just so unexpected and I was unsure what to do. Like I didn't want to be rude to her or anything, but at the same time, I just, I don't know," he kept rambling, ignoring Jane's interruption.
"Wylie!" Jane tried again, a little more forcefully.
"Yeah?"
"Breathe"
"What?"
"Just breathe"
"Okay"
"It's all good," he chuckled. "You coming with Vega and me?" he asked "I have the feeling for your skills might come in handy"
"Yeah for sure" Wylie replied as his eyes lingered in Vega's direction and sparkled.
Jane caught the glance. "You ask her to that thing you have tickets for yet?"
Wylie's shoulders dropped. "I'm working toward it," he shortly replied and left the room before any follow up questions could be asked.
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They pulled into the front carpark of the fairgrounds behind a short-haired 50-something woman in a hot pink business suit climbing out of a shiny new Audi R8.
"You're the coppers, right?" she asked as they stepped out of the SUV. "Regina Phalange. Marketer, manager and agent for the Highway Stallions," she nodded toward the band on the stage, tuning and striking their instruments in the distance. "Such a terrible thing with poor Corvin. He was a real good kid, you know?" she said shaking each of their hands in turn.
"I'll show you where Corvin was staying." She led them past the stage set up and to a rear clearing where the vehicles were parked.
"Nothing too glamourous, they're always on the go," she explained as she nodded towards a beat up RV and a VW combi van.
"The VW was Corvin's, the rest of the crew travel in the RV. The bike is Lasso's."
"So you take care of the scheduling for the band?" Vega asked.
"Yes, all the admin. That's me."
"Could you send us through the band's last gigs over the last six weeks, financials, anything else relating to Corvin that might help with our investigation?" Vega asked, handing her a business card from her blazer pocket.
"I'm a little old school darl, only paper records. My office is back in Houston, I'll overnight you everything you need"
"Thanks, is there anything else you can tell us about the band? Any tiffs, arguments, anything noteworthy?"
"Well did you just want to know who did it? Who killed Corvin?"
"Yes. That would certainly save us all a lot of time," Jane said with a charismatic grin.
"Moses Anderson," Regina sourly spat the name out. "A man truly rotten to the core if I've ever seen one. He assaulted Corvin at a show we played at Little Rock, claimed he was trying to take his spot in the band, started a full out brawl. Got a few good head shots into some of the other patrons too. A big mean brute with a heck of a temper. He was out of the band after that, we can't take that kind of liability. And Corvin did end up taking his spot in the band."
Vega nodded as she jotted notes down. Jane playing with door handles to try and get into Corvin's van.
"He lives in Austin too, so coincidence, no, that he ends up dead here? I think not."
Jane managed to pry the rear door of the combi van open as Vega continued her line of questioning.
"Anything else Jane?" she finally asked.
He reappeared from the back of the combi van, packet of crisps in hand, thoughtfully crunching through his mouthful.
"Oh sweet!" Jane exclaimed with a hint of a mischievous mocking tone. "Is that one of the new Fit-Watches!" he asked pointing at Regina's wrist.
"Uh yeah, it's a Fit-Watch-Go"
"Exercise revolution! Is it any good?"
"I guess. Counts my steps, remind me to drink water"
"Can I have a look?' Jane asked grabbing her wrist somewhat aggressively before she could respond.
She stared back at him in bafflement.
"I really need to get one, I feel like I'm just not moving enough. You know some days at the office, I barely move from my couch, and water? Forget it! If it wasn't for tea, I'd barely drink a thing," he rambled. "Were you sleeping with Corvin?" he slid in at the end, as if it was nothing.
"Hang on. What? No! I'm old enough to be his mother"
"That's never stopped anyone. Did you kill him?"
"Excuse me!?"
"Well, it's a very straightforward question. Did you kill him? Yes or no?"
"No! That's preposterous."
"You used to be a musician in your time, yes? Must be difficult to take the back seat now, watch the younger ones take the scene as you drift into your twilight years."
Vega looked on, her mouth open like a fish, not sure how to reign Jane in in the absence of her senior team members.
"Let go of me!" she squawked indignantly, yanking her wrist away. "I find your demeanour to be very offensive. Are you always like this?"
"Yes," Wylie answered a little too quickly.
"That's okay. Many people do. Fit-Watch-Go, right? I'm totally going to buy one after work"
Regina flashed Jane one last dirty look before huffing off.
"What was that all about?" Vega asked.
"She's sketchy, that one," Jane answered before poking back through the van. "Flakey pulse."
He sat on the mattress thrust into the back and looked around thoughtfully. Here was everything in this young man's life. Photos stuck to the wall of his family and pets he'd left behind, snacks and wrappers that gave him sustenance. A stack of business books and a flashlight, studying to make a future for himself. Jane picked up the notebook at the top of the pile and bounced back onto the mattress, resting his head on the pillow as he began to flick through it.
Vega joined the assiduous observations, and pulled out her blue light to examine for any blood remnants.
"I think I've got some blood here," she said, running the light over the quilt cover near Jane's leather shoes. "Although it seems a bit light, maybe the killer tried to wash it?"
"Uh, young virile man in a band, out on the road… I don't think that's blood…" Wylie conjectured looking over Vega's shoulder.
"What is it then?" Vega asked, her eyes growing wide after a split second when the penny dropped and she could answer her own question. "Ewww, gross!"
Jane flew off the bed and out the van just as quickly, taking the notebook with him.
"I guess we'll get a forensic tech in. See if we can put anyone else in the van," Vega said, her face screwed up.
He examined the pages a few more times, and with a look of realisation, he checked that Vega was out of earshot and shook a finger at Wylie.
"Wylie, I've got a job for you"
"Like an actual job, or a don't tell Cho job?"
He flashed Wylie a grin and with a wink he explained what needed doing.
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Lisbon, Cho and four other agents approached the run-down home, garden overgrown, paint peeling from the aging sleepers that walled the domicile. The car they were looking for, parked in the drive, confirming that the man that they were looking for was likely to be home. The random heaps of discarded metal in the yard and the general disrepair hit the stereotypical profile for the home of an ex-con.
Everyone's focus centering around Cho, as he gave clear and concise orders, hand-motions accompanying his succinct words. Lisbon's heart pounded. This wasn't her first hot warrant, and it certainly wouldn't be her last, but each and every time there was something about it all that made her feel like she was entering a battlefield.
As much as she'd deny it, she enjoyed the thrill, the taste of adrenalin.
On Cho's signal, they infiltrated the house, moving swiftly from room to room, clearing each space like a well-oiled machine. Nothing, nothing and nothing again.
They approached the final door, exchanged glances, and breached.
Leading guns first, they found a 200-pound man sitting in the center on the floor of a barely furnished room. Shoulder length wild-hair, that didn't seem to stop down his bare back, seemingly not-so-bare with such a thick layer of back hair punctuated with random tattooed arts.
They called to him to turn around. He didn't move a muscle.
They tried again. A little louder and a little more commanding. Still, no movement.
Lisbon angled her head in a little closer, noticing the headphones buried in the mop of hair, and communicating it to Cho. He approached cautiously, gun raised, walking into the target's line of sight.
Or what should've been his line of sight if his eyes were open. Firmly shut, palms upon his cross-legged knees, it appeared that he was meditating. Off in his own little world. And completely stark naked.
With a poke of his toe, Cho finally gained his attention.
Anderson opened his eyes in surprise. "Namaste officers," he said ever so calmly, pulling the headphones off his ears. "How can I help you?"
They holstered their weapons, as Cho threw him a towel. "Cover up for starters," he requested, Lisbon also recoiling at the sight as she approached.
"I gotta go," Lisbon turned to Cho. "Jane needs me."
Cho gave her a quizzical stare as she shook her Blackberry to explain.
"You guys should have this handled without me, yeah?" she said giving Anderson one last disgusted look.
Cho concurred with a nod. "Go."
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
"Hot warrant go down okay?" Jane greeted her with a grin as she approached them at the victim's van, forensic guys swarming all over it.
"Piece of cake," she scoffed. "Where's Wylie?"
"He had something important to do, so he left"
"And took the car?"
Jane shrugged. "It was important"
"Okay…. so what do you need me here for?"
"We're about to interview the four other band members. Thought we could use your expertise"
"That's it? You two couldn't handle this?"
"I told him we could," Vega piped up stubbornly.
Jane shrugged with a cute smile.
"So you just absolutely needed me here?" she asked flatly with a hint of sarcasm.
"Of course. Everything's better when you're around. Come on, let's go talk to the band"
She tried to hide her smile as she rolled her eyes and allowed him to lead her by the elbow to the stage area where the band members were loitering.
"Agent Lisbon, my colleagues Agent Vega and Patrick Jane," Lisbon introduced them. "Just have some questions about Corvin Daly."
"It's just so sad, I can't believe he's gone," the sole female lamented, a certain allure in her subtle accent. Her strawberry blonde hair in two neat plaits framing her perfectly golden-ratioed face, delicate features, and giant brown doe-eyes. Her make-up so meticulous, she looked like a real life party doll.
"We're sorry for your loss," Lisbon volunteered. "And you are?"
"Esther, Esther Bruegger," she introduced herself. "I'm lead vocals. This is my older brother Kyle," she nodded at soft-faced gentleman who could've easily have passed as her younger brother, long brown side-fringe reminiscent of a younger Justin Bieber, and an intense motion and attitude as he polished his instrument.
"The two of us started the Stallions in grade school," she explained. "Then this is Tim, Tim Barnett," she rubbed the shoulder of the lanky, well-tattooed man standing closest to her. "Vocals with me and lead guitar."
"And isn't there one more?" Vega asked.
"Yeah. Lasso. Our drummer. He's in the john, he'll be back shortly."
Lisbon gave Vega a nod, and instruction she understood without words and left the room promptly.
"Lasso? Is that his real name? Surname?" Lisbon sought clarification.
"That's all we've known him as. Lasso. One name. Like Madonna"
"Okay, thanks. What can you tell us about the victim?"
"Corvin was so smart. He was a brilliant musician and such an entrepreneur. He's only been with us for a short time, but he managed to line up some future gigs, negotiates a better deal with host venues for us. He had some real vision to take the band to the next level."
"Did he have any enemies that you know of?"
"Apart from Moses, not really. We didn't stay in the one place that long to be able to make enemies."
"I get that," Jane chimed in. "Always on the move, I've lived a bit of that life myself," he explained, thinking of his carnie days. "But I still managed to make my fair share of enemies, I can tell you that much," he said with a cocky grin.
Lisbon rolled her eyes. This didn't surprise her even a bit.
"And you had a sexual relationship with the victim?" Jane continued, talking directly to Esther.
"Yes, yes I did," she admitted without missing a beat. Jane more interested in the others' reactions that her answer to the question.
"And you recoiled at that?" he turned to Tim, the other vocalist. "So you resented that relationship. Is Ms Bruegger an ex-lover you're not over, or an unrequited love?"
"I didn't resent the relationship," he denied.
"Nonsense. So which is it?"
"Neither," he insisted, looking to Esther for advice.
"I have a casual, uh, sexual relationship as you put it, with Tim also," she elaborated.
"Right. So sleeping with you, was that just an added perk of being in the band, or…?"
Esther guffawed and looked at Jane with deliberation. "I'm a woman. I enjoy sex. We're all consenting adults," her eyes piercing with determination.
"Or do you feel threatened by a strong female enigma taking what she wants?" she continued.
"Oh not at all. I love a good, uh, strong female enigma," his gaze faded to Lisbon bringing a smirking blush to her cheeks. "But interesting that you jump to that conclusion."
"What are your thoughts on this, Kyle," Jane swiftly turning to her older brother.
"It doesn't bother me," he said unconvincingly.
"Yet the four of you sleep in the RV together? That's gotta sting, hearing your sister get plowed night in and night out," Jane looked at him curiously. "Or were you getting in on that action too?"
Kyle stood up abruptly, his hand clenched into a fist.
"Kyle, it's fine. Leave it," Esther warned.
"Ooh, temper temper," Jane admonished, with a warning finger waggle.
"He's my brother. Of course, he's protective of me. And no, incest is not my speed," Esther answered coolly. "I also fail to see how any of this is relevant to what happened to Corvin?"
"Where were you Saturday night between the hours of 1am and 4am?"
"We played the opening to the show, had a few drinks. By that time, we were all together in the RV"
"And no one left during that time?"
"Yes, no-one left. We were all together. The four of us."
"But you had to have slept, right? Is it possible that someone could have snuck out and snuck back in?"
"Yeah, actually Lasso went on a bike ride around that time? I remember hearing the bike start," Tim volunteered.
Esther shot him a warning glance.
"Uh… yeah. Actually, I think that was last night. Not Saturday. Must have got my days confused."
"We were all together. No one left," Esther reiterated. "We're close. The band is everything to us. Sure, Corvin was new, but he was one of us. We protect him like one of us. You can't think that we had anything to do with his death."
"'One of us', you make it all sound so familial and loyal and all that bull. But Moses? You seemed happy enough to drop him quick smart."
"Moses was a talented musician, but had a real dark energy about him," Esther explained. "To be honest, that brawl at the Arkansas gig. That was the final straw"
She was interrupted by an increasingly loud commotion as a discontent Vega came into view, messy hair clung to her face, leading a boisterously protesting man double her size toward the stage area in cuffs.
"Lasso? What happened? What's going on?" Esther asked, quick to jump to her bulky bandmate's aid.
"I was just going to go for a ride to pick up food, and this bitch can't seem to mind her own business," Lasso explained, sneering in Vega's direction.
"I announced myself, I showed my badge. He chose to ignore me and fled to his bike."
"You cops think you run the world, that your badges give you some kind of authority," Lasso complained. "I just wanted lunch!"
"Well they do give us, uh, some kind of authority," Lisbon debated condescendingly.
"He's got the right idea though," Jane said rubbing his stomach, "I could go lunch."
"Lasso, we just have some questions about Corvin Daly," Lisbon continued professionally.
"Are these cuffs really necessary?" Esther exclaimed in disdain. "He hasn't done anything."
Lisbon looked at Vega and gave her a nod.
"Were you sleeping with Esther too?" he asked Lasso a little more quietly. He was met with an angry glare which gave him all the answers he needed.
"Hey, can I listen to you play? I just love country music," Jane turned in Esther's direction and asked with a smile.
"And how does that help with the interview," Lisbon asked in a whisper.
"Oh, it doesn't. I just love country music," Jane replied.
She wasn't silly enough to realise he was probably going somewhere with this. With a nod from Esther, the band got behind their instruments and played them a little piece.
"You're all very good," Jane said appreciatively. "Does it pay well? A gig like this."
"We're certainly not here for the money. It's the music, it feeds your soul," Tim explained with passion.
"Although I'd much prefer it if it fed our mouths too," Esther supplemented with a laugh.
"I see. Thanks for your time," Jane concluded, leading the trio away.
"Why do you always feel the need to accuse people of having a sexual relationship?" Lisbon asked Jane as they ambled back to the car, Vega trailing a few yards behind them, busy on the phone to Cho.
"Fornication tends to trigger all kinds of emotions," he explained pointedly. "And emotions make otherwise rational people do irrational things." He looked at her with a meaningful smile.
"Speaking from experience?"
"And people are lazy," he added. "They're more likely to be sleeping with the people in their circle. People they see on a daily basis or spend a lot of time with. It's just convenient."
"We worked together closely, saw each other daily for a decade and nothing ever happened between us," she nonchalantly argued the point.
"But are you going to try and tell me that it didn't cross your mind once back in the day? Now don't lie to me Lisbon, I know you've thought of me naked more than once"
Well of course she did. What woman in her right mind wouldn't have?
One look at her face gave her away completely. There was no point trying to hide it.
"See!" Jane exclaimed with a smirking satisfaction. "But if makes you feel any better, just know I've done the same with you," he finished with a wink.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Jane lay on his couch, flicking through Corvin's notebook, as the group deliberated and hypothesised around him.
"I'm not liking Moses Anderson for it," Lisbon said, staring at the whiteboard.
"Me neither," Cho concurred. "Although he fits well. Motive, means, no alibi."
"The yoga schtick could be just a red herring. Sometimes the most obvious answer is the right one," Vega reasoned.
"Mehhhhhh," Jane whined from his couch in non-committal disagreement. They all turned to him for further explanation, which didn't come as he continued to skim the notebook.
"Well what about the band members," Wylie asked.
"They're all going to alibi each other out," Lisbon said in frustration. "Although Tim wanted to say Lasso left during our murder window, I don't think he's going to repeat that after Esther's reaction."
"Very manipulative and controlling woman, she seems to have them all by the balls," Vega simpered.
"But they adore her, and it seems to work," Wylie chimed in. "I mean, as a guy. I get it."
"Lover's tiff? Esther is clearly very headstrong. She definitely has the profile-based personality to be capable of such a thing," Lisbon hypothesised. There was something about that girl and the way she controlled the group that just didn't sit right with her.
"Ehhhhhh," Jane sang in disapproval.
"Tim Barnett. Didn't like Esther sleeping with the new guy. Feels instinctively territorial," Vega volunteered.
"Mehhhh," Jane mumbled once more.
"You don't think Lasso did it? Strong and silent type. Hard to get a read on him. You think he left, killed and dumped the body in the murder window?" Vega asked.
"Tim has no reason to lie about him leaving, but more than enough reason to lie to hide it. You saw the way Esther looked at him, his reaction," Lisbon said turning to Jane.
"Plus he tried to run from the interview," Vega added.
"But what's Lasso's motive?" Cho asked.
"Maybe he did because Esther wanted him to? She's very much the alpha of the group?" Lisbon tried explaining.
"Nnnn, mehhhhh"
"How about stop making random disapproving noises and grace us with your opinion?" Lisbon rolled her eyes at the consultant. "Use your words," she encouraged, like a mother talking to a toddler.
Cho stared at the screen of his chiming phone. "Looks like they found the murder weapon. .38 in Moses Anderson's car matches the slugs in the vic and has been fired recently. Confirming ballistics and checking for prints now."
Jane suddenly sat up on his couch. "Moses Anderson, you say? That's interesting."
"So it was Anderson. Huh," Vega said curiously.
"Third strike, and a murder at that. He's going away for a while," Lisbon sympathised.
"You won't find any prints on that gun," Jane warned in a smart-ass tone.
"Hey Jane," Wylie called as he took a seat in front of his computer. "That thing you asked me to do? I'm getting something."
"What'd you ask him to do?" Lisbon asked.
"I'm supposed to be giving the orders in this unit," Cho reminded.
"Oh Cho, you make me laugh. Trust me. You'll love this," Jane said with a grin.
Cho looked at him flatly. "Trust? You?"
Jane slapped and squeezed his shoulder in enthusiasm.
"So I installed a scanning device on Regina Phalange's document shredder…" Wylie explained.
"Wait, the manager, agent, whatever she is?" Vega asked.
"Yeah, Miss I don't keep electronic records of anything because I'm old school, but love a good fitness tracker on my wrist," Jane elaborated.
"…so everything she puts through the shredder is scanned and a copy of it appears here," Wylie continued.
"Woah. Highway Stallions has been doing well"
"Over $300k so far this year alone," Wylie concurred.
Vega gave a low whistle.
"But they all said it didn't pay well," Lisbon pointed out.
"Paid well enough to by someone a new Audi R8," Vega scoffed.
Jane hopped, skipped, and stepped back to his couch, retrieving Corvin's notebook, examining the figures he had scrawled to the figures in the documents, flicking through, until he found a distinct match.
"She's been skiving band profits, and Corvin was on to her," he declared, passing the open notebook to Cho. "This wasn't idle assignment work, these were real figures to do with the band."
"But you jumped the gun. You gained these illegally without a due warrant. They won't be able to use them for the trial."
"Oh, I'll find a use for them," Jane said with a grin. "Have we still got Moses Anderson in custody?"
"Yes, but why?"
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Parked an inconspicuous distance from Regina Phalange's office, they sat in the car and waited. Cho and the rest of the crew a bit further up the road, a team of uniforms in a non-descript a little further back.
"You really think this is going to work?"
He rolled his eyes. "No. I don't think it's going to work. That's why I bothered to set it all up, get everyone out here, and just sit in the car for the fun of it."
"Ok, calm down Mr Sarcasm. Sorry for even questioning your almighty, all-knowing, super genius plan," Lisbon sassed back.
"Now you're embellishing just to mock me"
"Now you're just daftly stating the obvious"
"You always feel the need to question my plans"
"Well yeah! A lot of the time, they're a little out of left field… so out of left field, they're in the bleachers"
"Your baseball metaphors are lost on me, Lisbon"
She paused just to gripe momentarily, folding her arms. "You're so sure it's her?"
Jane sighed exasperatedly. "About 70-80% sure, roughly. Give or take."
"I don't know if I should be at ease or worried about that assessment."
"Anderson is 2 minutes out," Wylie came crackling in over their head piece.
"Show time," Jane said with a gleam that only made Lisbon look more annoyed as he pulled his phone out, tapped at some keys and held it to his ear.
"Hey Regina? Patrick Jane, FBI. Listen, I just wanted to give you the heads up. We were ready to indict Moses for Corvin's murder, but he managed to escape our custody. He seems to be mad for some reason, claims that you stole from him, destroyed his life, trying to frame him. Something like that. Uh, I'd just lay low if I were you"
"I have a bad feeling about this," Lisbon grumbled.
"Will you relax yourself woman," Jane instructed. "This is going to get good!" he rubbed his hands enthusiastically.
They watched Moses pull up and walk into the building.
"The eagle is in the nest. Move in but hang back. Hold position," Cho instructed over the radio.
"If he actually injures her, this is on you," Lisbon warned as they got out of the car.
"He won't," Jane said confidently.
They listened to the argument through the wall. Moses yelling at Regina, accusing her of all she had done. Embezzling money from the band, framing him for murder, and finally, murdering Corvin himself because he had figured it all out. The argument went back and worth, Regina unwittingly confessing to it all.
"I made them!" they heard her yell. "I made them what they are today, and they were just going to drop me like that because some punk waltzes in and thinks he knows better!"
The ranting continued, until the argument grew sullen. Familiar metallic clacks echoing in the din.
"We have the confession, what are we waiting for?" Lisbon asked through her radio.
"Give it a second," Jane replied.
Suddenly gunshots rang out, their cue to move in. They stormed the room, Regina with a smoking gun pointed straight at Moses, Moses with a crude smile on his face.
"What? I don't understand," Regina faltered.
"Regina Phalange, you are under arrest for the murder of Corvin Daly and the attempted murder of Moses Anderson. You have the right to remain silent…"
"Looking for these?" Jane spoke over Lisbon reading her Miranda rights and held up an evidence baggie full of bullets. The same bullets that Wylie had taken from the gun and replaced with blanks when he installed the scanner in the shredder earlier.
He started to shake the baggie of bullets as if they were maracas, dancing around the room singing a little 'cha-cha cha-cha cha-cha' tune, as they led Regina out in cuffs.
"Quit that," Lisbon admonished his sheer insolent puerility.
"Keep your steps up in prison," Jane called out behind them, "And don't forget to drink lots of water!"
"Did I do okay?" Moses whispered to Jane.
"Perfectly my friend," Jane replied, tapping him on the shoulder, his eyes darting around to ensure no-one heard their exchange.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
The county festival held a distinctly different vibe in the waning sun's glow as night threatened to take over. The band's instruments were set up on a small stage in front of a large dancefloor surrounded by intermittent haybales and hanging lanterns for ambiance. The food truck game was in full swing, waffle cart, taco truck, chimichangas as well as cotton candy, strawberries and cream, and other local delights. There was a jovial festive hum combined with chatter and people simply having fun.
"Hey Abbott! Good to see you outside of the box. What are you doing here?" Jane approached their boss in surprise, most of the rest of the team in tow.
"Cho suggested we come. Although Lena loves these kinds of festivals, we were planning to be here anyway," Abbott replied.
"Speaking of Cho, has anyone seen him?" Vega asked
"No, I'm sure he'll be here soon," Abbott reassured.
"He's not answering his phone," Lisbon chipped in.
"Let me treat you all a drink," Abbott offered, ducking off and returning with two fists full of long necks, handing them out to his team.
"To another case closed," he proposed a toast. They clinked bottles.
"Rest in peace Corvin Daly," Vega added respectfully, bowing her head slightly. A murmur of consensus hummed around the circle. It was always humbling to remember that despite their successes, their jobs existed based on the darkness and tragedy in the world.
"Hey everybody, thank you for coming out tonight," Esther's voice echoing through the speakers as the band appeared on the stage. "Our performance tonight is dedicated to a talented soul, taken from this world too soon. Corvin, we love you."
They watched the stage as each member got set up with their instrument. The four members they had interviewed earlier, and one ring-in to take Corvin's spot. They squinted as there was a certain air of familiarity about the band's apparent new fifth member.
"Oh my gosh, is that Cho?" Vega was the first to voice.
Up on stage to Esther's left was their fearless leader, complete with dark-brown cowboy hat, tasselled fringing along the details of his shirt, and a metallic bullhead in place of tie, flinging a guitar over his shoulder.
"I didn't know he could play?" Lisbon exclaimed, as the band dove straight into their first song, a relatively upbeat number.
"That man…. Full of surprises," Jane said, impressed.
"He's actually pretty good," Wylie nodded in surprised approval.
"I wonder if they need a clarinettist too?" Jane said, elbowing Lisbon gently.
"Not a chance in hell," she warned.
Vega clutched at Lisbon's arm suddenly, digging her nails in as her eyes grew wide. "Oh my god, he's singing! Guys, Cho's singing," she exclaimed, her jaw sinking to the floor much like everyone else's as Cho's smooth voice harmonized with Esther and Tim's flawlessly. It was like nothing they'd ever heard or witnessed before.
"Go Cho!" Wylie exclaimed, impressed.
Vega dragged Wylie off onto the dance floor, Abbott and his wife Lena quickly following suit. Jane and Lisbon took a seat at a picnic table toward the back to finish their drinks.
"Jane," she placed two fingers on the crook of his elbow. "I wanted to apologise."
"Well this is new. Normally I'm the one apologising. What for?" he asked, even though he knew exactly what she was edging into.
"For Sunday morning. For being completely irrational about keeping us private for now."
"It's okay. I admit I was a little taken aback, and it stung a little. But as long we're together, nothing else really matters. As long as I have you," he looked at her with those deep and glistening eyes.
"It's just…" she took a deep breath to stall for articulation. "It's so wonderful right now. It's just us. And it's more wonderful than I ever thought it could be," she admitted sheepishly.
"Good," he smiled, "and that's all that really matters."
"I don't want people to think I just got the job at the FBI because I'm sleeping with you. I don't want people to see me as Jane's sidekick, I want to be known as a strong agent in my own right."
"But you are…"
"Maybe back at the CBI. But not here. My time in Washington was very humbling to say the least."
Jane nodded in understanding. Sometimes he forgot all that she had to go through when he was sitting alone on a beach with all the reflection time a man could possibly need for two years.
"I know people are going to pry. Ask questions that don't concern them. Make judgements and assumptions on what's happened in the past," she continued.
"You've never struck me as someone that cares about others' pithy opinions? People are going to think what they're going to think, and I guarantee they're already making their own assumptions and judgements."
"I know I'm being a little silly. And I don't want you to think that I don't want this any less, because I do. Just once it's out, it's out. And all of a sudden, it's everyone's business." She sighed. "I just want it to be us. In our own little bubble. Just for a little while longer."
"I can live with that," he assured.
"Not forever," she reiterated sheepishly.
"Of course"
"I'm sorry if I hurt you at all. It's really not my intention. I know I'm terrible in relationships. I'm far from perfect."
"You're pretty damn perfect to me"
"No, seriously—"
"Yes, seriously," he interrupted her back. "It's your irrationalities and imperfections that make you so perfect," he said with reassuring charm. "I'm far from perfect myself, and don't you know it. It's comforting. Relatable. Makes me feel human. Puts me at a greater ease. So thank you for that."
She never thought that her guilt-laden apology would evolve in to a sincere thanks from Jane. But then again, that was always what he was good at. Turning a situation on its head. And it was wonderful when he used those powers for good.
"I can guarantee I'm far more terrible at this relationship thing," he continued. "Despite my darndest efforts, I'm sure I'll manage to screw this up in some way, shape or form sooner or later." He took a deep breath. "But you'll know that I'm trying, and my heart is in sincerely in the right place, as is yours. And hopefully you'll be patient with me."
He had a way of seeing straight through a person when he was being sincere (or determinedly trying to read someone's mind, it was a similar gaze), where his eyes just seemed to be able to lock in, to command attention in such a captivating and intense way.
"The thought of losing you petrifies me," he explained with a glimmer of vulnerability. "And I'll fight in any way to make sure that doesn't happen. You are my everything now."
"Jane…" she breathed with a smile. It was so nice to be felt so understood, valued, loved, and wanted.
"I like that we… we can be perfectly imperfect. Together," he said with a grin. "Fumble, bumble, and figure this all out together."
"I like that too," mirroring his lovestruck grin.
They peered up at the stage, still amazed to see Cho in his country get up, his little-known musical talents flexing on display.
"Do you want to dance?" she asked cheerily
"What, here? In front of everyone?"
"Yeah sure, why not. Everyone else is" she grinned, as she touched his elbow.
He looked up to see Abbott happily dancing with his wife, Wylie cranking out some awkward dance moves with Vega much to her amusement, and the dancefloor filled with rambunctious couples, friends and families simply enjoying the music.
"Hmmm, okay. One dance," he agreed.
"Two," she insisted.
"Everything has to be a negotiation with you!" he smiled as they got up from the table and he downed the rest of his drink.
She led him by the hand to the dance floor and they let loose enjoying the talents of the band. They laughed as the rocked and jived back and forth, and joined in with the others too. She was surprised he could dance so well, she never pegged him as the type. Despite knowing him for so long, she still always found that she was learning new things about him.
The band changed its pace from its upbeat repertoire to a slower piece, the opening chords of "When you say nothing at all" by Keith Whitley churning from their instruments. Couples either pulled in close or dissipated from the dance floor to the food trucks. She caught an awkward moment between Wylie and Vega before they opted to get another drink. Abbott on the other side, dancing tenderly with his wife.
Jane looked at her askance, seemingly unsure what she was going to do. She stared at him momentarily, her own inner thoughts fighting amongst themselves in assessment. She relented with a smirking grin and a shy little eye flick, and drew herself closer to him, making his grin stretch from ear to ear. She allowed his hands to sink around her waist as she placed her hands around his shoulders. They exchanged coy, awkward, flirty looks as they swayed gently to the music. She found Jane was unable to stop himself from smiling, which in turn made her smile even bigger and more conspicuous. With a little laugh and his hands around her waist, he pulled her in closer so her body was flush against his.
He whispered in her ear, "Quite a scene you're making here, Lisbon"
"Can't two colleagues dance with each other?" she whispered back.
She bit her bottom lip as she tightened her arms around his shoulders to recalibrate to their new stance, and placed her head at the crook of Jane's neck. She loved this song. The notes linked together so thoughtfully, the nostalgic country charm that reminded her of her grandparents, and the words that nailed how she was feeling, as if it was a song Jane could sing to her. All of her actions, everything she did, she couldn't hide how she felt about Jane and she hoped that he knew it.
"The smile on your face lets me know that you need me
There's a truth in your eyes saying you'll never leave me
The touch of your hand says you'll catch me wherever I fall
You say it best when you say nothing at all"
Lost in her own thoughts as she swayed, she pulled her head up for a moment and scanned the area. Cho from the stage caught her glance and gave her a knowing look and a wink, which made her blush as she shyly and hastily broke eye contact. She shook her head to herself and her own silliness, and placed her head back on Jane's chest. She closed her eyes. In that moment, she honestly didn't care who saw, or what people might think, or how people might judge her. The music, this song, his arms lovingly and protectively around her waist, her arms perched on his shoulders, their movements to the music… her head on his chest made her feel so safe and cared for, his familiar smell a comfort in itself, and his cheek against her head. She felt like she was floating. Nothing could tarnish or interfere with the complete emotional satiation she was feeling in that very moment. Not even her own head.
Jane squeezed her gently, almost as if he knew, as they continued to sway to the music, the melody forming their own little bubble of bliss, right there on the dancefloor.