A/N: Argh, I hate it when FFN decides it's going to play up. I was going to update both this and The Art of Seduction yesterday. Anyway, enough about website technicality woes.

For those who read it, I'm back to writing Unbound. In fact, a chapter is with my beta now. Yay. Hoping to get another one done this week too.

Thank you to: Divinia Serit, Penelope Louise, Jadestar1981, 0meltingsnow0, yaba, mtm and Group Hugs For Everyone for reviewing part eight. I don't think there's much more to go now. I think I have two parts left...

Thanks for sticking with me throughout this one.

x tromana


Part Nine - Deserving

She feels somewhat embarrassed as she redresses in the half-light. Jane is in that relaxing state between sleep and wakefulness, but she still finds herself hiding away as much as possible. It's ridiculous; it's not as if he hasn't seen her naked before. But still, Lisbon figures that it's something to do with the combination of sordid hotel, having to wear the same smoky clothing as yesterday and the simple fact he is currently emotionally repressed.

Well, even more so than usual.

Jane mumbles something incoherently and she freezes.

Perhaps, when he's awake, she'll ask if they can drop by her apartment before work. Just so she can grab a change of clothes and maybe a bite to eat.

Absent-mindedly checking her cell phone and she finds that she's received several calls from the interim boss. The last voice message states that she should take leave, if only for a couple of days, so that she can soothe her frazzled nerves and regain perspective. It may be a Red John case, but they appear as far away from catching him as ever and apparently, her and Jane's health is of the utmost importance.

Well, screw that.

The interim boss is about as useful as a chocolate fireguard as it is.

Gathering up the horrible smelling jacket, she wraps it around her slender body before placing a gentle hand on Jane's bare shoulder.

He jolts to her touch, her cool fingertips grazing against his skin. As Jane blinks up at her, she pulls away, as if he has passed on an electric shock.

She looks nervous.

And seeing his Lisbon look so nervous makes Jane feel nervous too.

After all, she is the one solid thing remaining in his life. Like a great oak tree, stoic and proud. Changing as the seasons pass, but still strong and imposing regardless of the time of year or her scenery.

When they reach her home, she has time to change, but not for food. But then again, that's rather unsurprising. Whenever you wish you had the time to just take a step back and breathe for five minutes, it always seems to march on faster. Like sand trickling through a timer and all you can do is sit and watch.

The new, albeit temporary, boss is angry, no, furious when he sees Lisbon storming to her office, to pick up some notes before they head out again. She wants to go talk to the 'parents' of the child, tell them that they'd found the body, even though they cannot be sure if it can be salvaged from the wreckage that is Jane's house. The irate man wants her to go home and take that 'psycho of a consultant' with her.

She nods and smiles and appears to acquiesce to his demands. She's learned a lot from Jane and not all of it good.

Once in her car, she smiles weakly at Jane and they head directly towards the family's home. Lisbon has been dreading this. Just how do you explain to somebody that their daughter's body was found at the home of her biological father? And oh yes, said home was practically burned to the ground, probably by the serial killer who killed her, while the entire team investigating the death of their daughter were inside.

The situation is bemusing, verging on the absurd.

Still, at least Van Pelt and Cho should be okay. Lisbon appreciates that Rigsby took the time out from his vigil beside the red head to let her know. As she approaches the modest home for a second time, she feels like she's earned that one slither of hope.

Jane's dour as he approaches the house with trepidation. It's unsurprising; he feels as though this family intentionally held his daughter away from him. Even if she wasn't dead, time lost can never be regained. But the fact of the matter is that she is, so that exacerbates the loss further still. Lisbon's fingers entwine around his own and she gives him an affectionate squeeze.

It's the most she can do, given the situation.

As with before, the family is understanding, sympathetic. Almost too understanding and sympathetic. It seems like they, too, have switched off their emotions in order to cope and Lisbon doesn't like it much.

"Who else did you tell that Harriet wasn't your biological daughter?"

She's abrupt, but she needs to know. Lisbon needs to find the connection to Red John and unless they persuade her otherwise, this couple are her prime suspects.

The man remembers one night. Well, it's more of a case of what he doesn't remember; a drug-induced haze akin to that night that Lisbon suffered due to Dr. Roy Carmen. Lisbon is sympathetic; she understands what it's like to feel like you have completely lost a period of your life. She knows how it feels when hours have been stolen away from you, almost literally. After all, she still doesn't remember that night, all those months ago and it still irks her somewhat.

Jane, however, is unimpressed. Slowly, but surely, he transforms into a menacing force, desperate to extract any information he can from the hapless father. His daughter was in the care of this man, so it's unsurprising that Jane is fuming. Lisbon warns him, verbally and he turns on her.

Stumbling slightly, she finds herself slowly backing away until her back is flush against a wall, with his hands gripping her shoulders tightly. If it hadn't been for her several layers of clothing, she knows that Jane's fingernails would have broken her skin.

Yes, she's seen Jane angry, but never quite like this. It's like he's decided to start blaming her for this whole sorry situation and she can't help but wonder why. It's not as if she mixed the two girls up at birth, nor was she responsible for supplying Red John with the information.

She is, however, responsible for telling to Jane to remember his tact.

And hissing to him that, regardless of the genetic connotations, the girl in question isn't his daughter. His daughter is dead and buried and has been for seven years.

She flinches as a hand strikes her left cheek, leaving a sore red mark in its wake.

Lisbon isn't quite sure what to do as he lets go of her and collapses to his knees. All she knows is that they can't go on like this, using and abusing one another.

And she deserves better than this.

TBC…