A/N: *yawns* I'm sleepy... and this is the penultimate chapter. Putting this up now at request of WildDaisies10 and who am I to say no?!
Thanks to: mtm, yaba, 0meltingsnow0, Divinia Serit, WildDaisies10, Ebony10, ch19777 and Frogster for revealing chapter nine. Especially so to ch19777 for going back and commenting on every part. Thank you!
x tromana
Part Ten - Destruction
She still can't believe that he had had the audacity to strike her. It's just so unlike Jane. If he is angry, he'd usually use wordplay, subterfuge. He is more likely to hand you a piece of rope and make sure that you tie yourself up with it than to use violence in any way, shape or form.
Lisbon has always light-heartedly joked that he was the brain and she was the brawn, even though she is far sharper than she gives herself credit for in doing that.
And obviously, given the blues and purples now decorating her cheekbone, he's far stronger than she thought he was too.
After she had had her say, Jane fled and the look he had given her broke Lisbon's heart. But it's the right decision, for the both of them. She cannot continue to put her heart on the line and compete for his affections with people long dead. It's a war she'll never win, because she isn't as tall, willowy, tanned or blonde as the woman who won his heart so long ago. Not that she'd want to replace her, mind. That was never her intention.
She has no idea where he is now, but she's standing in the family's restroom, inspecting the damage in a mirror. It's going to take a hell of a lot of make-up to disguise that bruise. But then again, this isn't the first time Lisbon has had to do that.
She's far more experienced at covering up bruises than she cares to admit, she decides as she clips the make-up bag back shut. Not too bad a job considering it is only the stuff she uses when they are called out of town.
When she's finally built up the courage to leave the room, Lisbon immediately goes and apologizes to the couple. Their show was completely and utterly unprofessional and it embarrasses her no end.
The woman simply envelopes her in her arms and Lisbon freezes. She didn't expect this kind of a reaction.
"You're better off without him, love."
But is she though? And how can this woman, who she has only been talking to for a couple of days even have the right to judge whether or not that she made the correct decision when ending her 'romantic' relationship with Jane? Ever since she got back home from Chicago, from the funeral, it feels like the life she has become accustomed to has started falling to pieces in her hands.
Just like her Mom's china doll which she accidentally smashed when she was seven years old.
She feels a little lost when she arrives back at work and walks up to the third floor of CBI headquarters, using the stairs instead of the elevator, for a change. Jane isn't there beside her, actively breaking the rules that she set out when they started their little affair. It's even more disconcerting when she doesn't see him lazing on the couch as she expected him to be once she'd arrived back.
Said couch is, after all, the place where the blond does most of his thinking.
Even though it's bare and she can't help but worry, she immediately heads towards her office instead of making plans to find him. The silence of the bullpen is almost deafening, in its own way. She hadn't realized just how much noise four people could make and though there are still a few secretaries, cleaners and even a few members of other units around, she has grown used to picking out the voices of those she works with most closely.
As Lisbon leans over her desk, looking at some random form, her eyes glaze over and the words slowly merge into one. She blinks slowly, trying desperately to refocus.
It's unsurprising that she's struggling with her paperwork; it has been a long week.
Her hair still stinks of smoke. Lisbon only realizes now, as it tries to form a mask over her face, getting in the way of the one word she is reading over and over. Destruction.
How terribly apt.
She can't help but think that her life is destroyed, her team too.
After all, after this, how can she even consider the concept that Jane might want to work under her again? And the fire might even be enough to scare Van Pelt off for good, too.
Lisbon doesn't even want to imagine what he's thinking right now.
In just a couple of days, he's lost his daughter (for a second time).
His home.
His self-control.
Her.
There's only so much one man can take.
She shakes her head. Maybe the interim boss is right? Perhaps if she just took the afternoon off, she'll be able to regain her senses. Have a nice, long bath, a night in with Dorothy and Toto and allow herself to be absorbed into the world of Oz.
It shouldn't take her much longer than let to get back to normal. To find the cool, competent senior agent that she was. Is, even.
Lisbon knows it's unhealthy to hold so much stead by her job, but it does define who she. She's been told it isn't good for her to hide behind her badge and gun, to use them as shields, but right now, she doesn't care.
She wants that protective layer back because now that she's lost Jane, emotionally speaking, because it's all she has again.
When she gets home, she dumps the keys on the table as per usual and pretends the fact that there are no footsteps following her in doesn't bother her. All she wants a cup of tea, for that mix of antioxidants and caffeine works wonders on soothing her rattled nerves. But tea reminds Lisbon of him and right now, she doesn't want to think about him. Even if that is his jacket, slung carelessly over the arm of her couch and those are his sunglasses perched on the counter.
Lisbon swallows deeply. No respite, even in her own home.
She's exhausted though and she doesn't even make it to the bath, never mind her bed.
In frustration, she growls when her cell phone starts ringing. She had been hoping that that would be a cliché that it would avoid falling into, just this once. Lisbon has lost count of the number of times that she has drifted off, only to be woken by an incessant ringing. Still, she answers it anyway, hoping that it isn't anything important.
That she can just give the person on the other end of the call short shrift so she can get back to dozing.
"Lisbon," she growls automatically. It's her normal answer regardless of the caller.
"Jane's on Tower Bridge," Rigsby states quickly, sounding almost breathless. "And it looks like he's going to jump."
TBC…
