I continue to be totally flattered by the positive response this story is getting. I've said it before, and I'll say it again. You guys are the best.
Disclaimer: No. No. No. I don't own it. Can I make it any clearer?
It wasn't until many hours later, when the two of them had returned from the evening's soiree, that Lisbon allowed herself to seriously think about everything that had happened this morning. Not that she'd been able to put it out of her mind completely, of course.
The atmosphere between herself and Jane had been thick with tension all day, every word they spoke to each other carefully chosen, every little glance at each other fraught with meaning. It was like all the things left unsaid from this morning were hanging in the air, just waiting to be acknowledged. It was almost unbearable.
At the party they'd spent as little time together as possible, and after arriving back at the house, gone to their separate sleeping areas without so much as a word to one another.
She lay in bed with the light off, staring at the dark ceiling, willing for sleep to come, while knowing full well that it wouldn't. The bed, while very comfortable, just didn't feel right tonight. She refused to accept that the reason might be the absence of someone else, who last night had held her so close and so tight, and murmured all varieties of sweet nothings in her ear as she drifted off to sleep.
She missed her bed; that was the problem. And she missed her apartment and her living room couch and her office and her desk, and the bullpen. She missed taking the elevator up to the Serious Crimes floor with Minelli who for years had always turned up at the same time as her. She missed the noisy whirring of her ancient office computer. She even missed the crappy coffeemaker in the break room. In short, she missed her real life.
She missed the team a lot; Cho, immersed in his latest novel, Van Pelt, forever lecturing Rigsby on his appalling dietary habits, and the latter dutifully agreeing with every word she said, and then racing to grab a doughnut the moment she turned her back.
She missed Jane too, though it sounded ridiculous as they were living in the same house. But he was so different to his usual self; it was like sharing with a stranger.
Before this case, things had been so much simpler, their relationship mostly confined to bickering and flirting, but now everything had changed. Now there were feelings to deal with.
She'd hurt him badly this morning. She knew it was true; she'd seen it in his eyes as she'd walked away and left him alone at the table. Half of her had wanted to run right back to him, fling her arms around him and say she was sorry, that she hadn't meant it really, and screw the politics and the CBI, all she wanted was to be with him.
But under all the guilt and the pain of having hurt him so, she knew she'd made the right call.
They could have been good together for a while, she acknowledged. Jane wasn't the kind of man who did things by halves. And she knew that buried under all the bitter resentment, he had a good heart and a generous spirit. They might have even been happy for a time, and she knew he'd have loved her as much as he was able.
But it simply wasn't enough. She knew she wouldn't have been able to handle constantly running second place to Red John or his wife. Call her overly –competitive or selfish, but he was first in her heart, and for anything between them to last the long-term, she'd have to be first in his too. She'd never ask him to forget about his family completely, but was it so unreasonable to want him to look over from time to time and see only her, and not a consolation prize to the life he had lost?
She needed more from him than he could give right now, and most likely, ever.
The situation being what it was, there was no possible way she could envision things to turn out that wouldn't entail him causing her pain. It was just the way things were. She'd have ended up alone and miserable in the end.
At least this way, it was on her terms. But that was small comfort when your heart was breaking.
It was a good thing he'd slept well last night, as Jane suspected he wouldn't be getting any rest tonight.
So this was it, then? This was how he was doomed to spend the rest of his days, alone in the darkness with nothing but pain and bitterness for company. Or at least, it was certainly looking that way, any potential relationship with Lisbon over before it had even begun. She'd made that very clear.
Infuriating, stubborn woman. Much as he disliked it, he couldn't deny that she had made several valid points this morning, and looking at things from a purely practical standpoint, he was forced to accept how she might see a relationship to be to both her professional and personal detriment.
Yes, it would take a lot of hard work to make a go of things, and yes, the odds were heavily stacked against them. But he still thought it was worth giving it a chance.
For what was the alternative? Sitting around on his couch in the CBI, watching her through her office window, thinking about everything they could have had.
He'd never dreamed that he could feel this way about anyone again, that there might be room for somebody else in his heart. And yet somehow, by some miracle, he had managed to stumble across the one woman on earth who could make it happen, only to hit another roadblock.
There was one thing she'd said this morning that had stuck particularly fast in his head. "Patrick, you are many things, but you are not a solid investment." She made it sound as though she were backing out on a business deal, rather than something that could potentially make both of them happier than they'd been for years.
He was a little out of practice at the 'boyfriend' thing, true enough. His relationship status had been either 'married' or 'widower' for as long as he could remember. But the basic principles couldn't have changed that much.
It would be his job to tease her and bicker with her, and bring her coffee in the morning, and put a smile on her face when she was having a bad day. Well that wasn't hard. He did all that stuff already.
And he would need to hold her if she needed it, and give her space if she wanted it, and to be able to know her well enough to tell the difference. Check. He knew her better than anybody.
And of course, the most important thing of all, he would have to make sure she would never again doubt how important she was to him.
He could do it. He knew he could. He'd give her the world if she asked him for it. All he had to do was make her see. And if there was something Patrick Jane thrived on, it was a challenge.
But for now, he thought, it might be wise to pull back a bit, at least until they got this case solved. She seemed to be of the opinion that their enforced 'marriage' had been the only reason all these things had happened, and he couldn't possibly mean the things he said. The only way to prove her wrong was to take the case out of the equation completely. No more blurring the lines with fake names and playacting.
When they got back to Sacramento, he swore to himself that he would find a way to show her that they could be worth the risk. But until then, he had to be patient.
After all, good things came to those who waited.
And so the night passed. Lisbon in her bed, Jane on the couch, both so caught up in thoughts of the other that the very concept of getting to sleep was laughable.
She wondered whether he would have always made love to her with the same tenderness as the first time.
He marvelled at the fact that even he though he was perfectly used to spending his nights alone, one night with her had been enough to make him realise how much he'd missed having someone else there.
By the time the first light of dawn crept over the horizon however; they were both thinking the same thing: This case couldn't be over soon enough.
The problem with living in such a small house with only one bathroom was that it made it a good deal harder to be able to actively avoid each other. But Patrick Jane and Teresa Lisbon were nothing if not determined, and henceforth both managed to shower, dress, and eat breakfast without having to so much as lay eyes on each other. The rest of the day they planned to spend apart, Lisbon having run into Meg at last night's party and arranged to meet for lunch.
Of course, it was too much to ask for that they might be able to get through the whole morning without seeing each other. It was inevitable that they would cross paths at some point, which came to pass when they encountered each other on the stairs.
"Morning," he ventured.
"Morning."
She hadn't slept. He noticed it right away. Probably up all night thinking, if he knew her. Both a good thing and a bad thing. Good that she hadn't been able to shake everything off easily, making her acknowledge that it was important. Bad that the idea made her uncomfortable enough for her to be unable to get to sleep.
"Off to see Meg?" he asked, and she nodded in response.
"I'll be back in a few hours."
"Have fun."
"Thanks. I will."
There was a strange formality in the way they talked to each other this morning, it was polite, but totally devoid of the warmth and humour he was accustomed to when they usually spoke to each other. Even when they bickered, the insults they fired at each other were often laced with affection.
He liked it best when they were arguing; this newfound polite stiffness felt unnatural to him. He dearly hoped this wasn't to be a permanent change.
His cell phone rang, and he dragged it out of his pocket as she brushed past him and out the front door.
"Patrick Jane."
"Hey man," came Cho's slow, deep voice. "I just got off the phone with Miranda from Professional Standards."
The Professional Standards unit was the team hired to help smooth things over when investigations got a little out of hand, and keep the press in the dark as much as possible. Since Jane had joined the CBI, their workload had tripled, and after a few months, Minelli had ordered that one of them be assigned exclusively to deal with complaints against him. That 'honour' had fallen to the lot of Miranda Fratelli, and she could often be seen in Lisbon's office as the two of them attempted damage control.
"You must have been born under a lucky star," she'd said to Jane once, after she and Lisbon had somehow managed to find yet another loophole in the rulebook to get him out of trouble. "If you didn't have Lisbon watching your back, you'd be toast a thousand times over."
"Isn't that supposed to be your job?" he'd challenged her, and to his surprise, rather than getting angry, she'd simply smiled incredulously.
"I might be the one that gets the paycheque and all the credit, but half the time it's Lisbon who figures out how to fix the problem. Do you realise that there isn't a thing that woman wouldn't do for you? You'd damn well better appreciate it."
He couldn't remember his response to that, something offhand and sarcastic no doubt, but it had got him thinking about how much extra work he must create for his boss, and it gave an indication of the depth of her patience and affection for him (professional or not) that she kept putting up with it.
Truth be told, he always did feel a little bad about it whenever she was called into Minelli's office to be berated over something he had done. And to date, she'd never once thrown him to the wolves, taking as much of the blame on herself as she could. Time and time again, she shielded him from the worst of the fallout he caused.
That was one of his most favourite things about her. She was loyal to the last.
Shuffling papers on the other end of the line brought his thoughts abruptly back to the present, and the conversation.
"Harvey Kent is threatening to press charges against you, unless you give him a formal apology."
"And Harvey Kent is?"
"You know, the weedy guy from a couple of cases back."
"Was that the guy who punched me in the nose when I convinced his daughter that she was adopted?"
"No. The one that punched you in the nose when you blackmailed him into confessing to a murder he didn't commit in order to flush out the real killer."
Now Jane remembered. Harvey Kent. Jane had known it wasn't him right from the start, but it had been fun messing with him. And the idiot had fallen for it hook, line and sinker. For an MIT graduate, he sure had been easy to fool. As for the blackmailing, if he hadn't been cheating on his wife in the first place, it would never have happened.
"I'm not apologizing," he said, firmly.
"I'm shocked," replied Cho, flatly. "I'll tell Miranda to set a court date. Again."
"Thank you. How's everything back in Sacramento?"
"Weird. It's way too quiet without you and the boss yelling at each other every five minutes."
"Rigsby? Van Pelt?"
"The air's so thick with hopeless longing, it's making me nauseous."
Jane chuckled.
"How's life undercover?"
Well that wasn't an easy question. So much had happened over the last week it made Jane's head spin. But how best to summarize it all for Cho?
"Well, put it this way," he said at last. "I don't remember marriage being quite this dramatic."
"Well last time, you weren't married to Lisbon," said Cho. "You two stuck in a house together alone was always going to create more fireworks than the 4th of July."
Now he came to think of it, fireworks were a perfect way to describe their relationship. Not so long ago, there'd been nothing but darkness and despair in his life, and then she'd catapulted into it out of nowhere and suddenly there'd been colour and energy and pizzazz again.
Teresa Lisbon, his little pocket rocket.
"Things have gotten a little heated at times, but so far no casualties," said Jane, laughing.
There was a brief silence before Cho spoke again. "You slept with her."
Not the slightest tone of uncertainty coloured the statement. Cho was certain.
How had he known? Jane hadn't told him anything about what they'd been up to since they'd been here. What if he was easier to read than he thought? He felt his pulse speeding up. Time to do what he did best; plant a seed of doubt in Cho's mind. If Lisbon found out what their friend suspected, it was game over.
"What makes you say that?"
"When I heard what you and Lisbon had to do for this case, I knew it could only end in two ways. And since she evidently hasn't murdered you yet, that only leaves me with one conclusion."
"Which is?" The only hope for it was to try and misdirect him, to trip him up from this very dangerous line of questioning.
Cho sighed. "Seriously man, you're really going to make me go there?"
"Go where?"
"Fine. You asked for it. Rather than trying to rip each other's heads off, you and the boss decided to rip each other's clothes off instead."
If it had been anyone else, they would have been walking on eggshells at the idea of bringing up such a delicate topic. Not so with Cho. And Jane knew there was no point trying to deny anything now. Once Cho got an idea in his head that was it. And more to the point, he was right.
"How could you tell?" he asked resignedly, embarrassed at having his cover blown wide open. Deception was supposed to be his speciality for God's sake, and Cho had made him in minutes.
"You and Lisbon have been forcing yourselves to keep your hands off each other for ages. And the whole time we've been talking you've been sounding as triumphant as if you just won the lottery."
"Impressive," said Jane, always one to give credit where it was due.
"You think I could work alongside you for all these years and not learn something about observation?" Cho replied, wryly.
"Apparently not."
Cho blew out another sigh. "Look, whatever the deal is, it's none of my business. But just be sure of what you're doing. Don't screw her around."
There was a pause, in which Jane could practically hear him add 'or else.'
With the excuse of paperwork do, Cho then rang off, leaving Jane to his confused thoughts.
Be sure of what he was doing? Well that was far easier said then done.
The doorbell rang, and Jane opened the door once again to the disappointing sight of Nick waiting outside of it. This guy was taking far too keen an interest in this case, and more importantly, in Lisbon as far as Jane was concerned.
"Hey Jane," Nick greeted him easily, stepping inside without invitation. "Where's Tessie?"
"Teresa," Jane corrected him firmly, 'isn't here. She had a lunch date."
"Oh," Nick looked visibly deflated. "I had the afternoon off and I thought the two of us could maybe catch up a little."
"Well take a number and get in line," said Jane waspishly. "She's a very popular woman."
Nick chuckled. "She always was. Back at the academy, there were at least five guys after her, including one of the criminology lecturers. She was totally oblivious to it of course. 100% focused, 100% of the time."
"Guess she hasn't changed much."
"Not at all."
Any other time, Jane would have been glad to hear about any aspect of Lisbon's past, but here, now, with everything so weird between them, and with him still not sure where Nick stood in terms as a potential rival, he had no desire to pursue the subject.
As Nick looked at his watch to check the time, Jane took the chance to survey him with minute detail. Clean-cut, self-assured, a standard-issue good guy (or so it appeared.) Was Nick her idea of a 'solid investment?' He supposed when he took his own disdain for the FBI agent off the table he could see what might attract Lisbon to him. He was one of her oldest friends, quite clearly cared about her (however grudgingly Jane might admit it), and was free of emotional baggage. She could be sure of what she was getting into if she was dating Nick. And he knew how much she valued security in her choices.
This revelation really seemed to illustrate the fact that if he was not prepared to make some big changes in his own life, there was a very real possibility that he would lose her in the end, to Nick or someone like him. Sure, he would be able to seduce her with words and kisses easily enough for a while, but if he wanted her for keeps he had to dig deeper.
And though she had many, many wonderful qualities, patience wasn't a particular strong suit of hers. She wouldn't wait around forever.
She was the best thing that had happened to him in many years. His life had only been improved by having her in it. Now he needed to do something about the perception she seemed to have that being with him would ultimately only serve to cause her pain.
And the first step towards doing that was by proving that he understood how much she valued her job, by getting this case solved.
"Did you run a background check on Bruce Fredrickson?" he asked Nick. The man had cornered him again at the party last night, bought him a drink, and made the same kind of allusions to winning and fast living as he had the first time they'd met.
"Couple of assaults, the odd DUI, a few possession charges here and there. The guy's basically your garden-variety scumbag. I think he looks good for it."
Jane shook his head. Fredrickson didn't possess anywhere near the intelligence required to be the mastermind behind their cocaine ring. That was evident after speaking with him for only a few minutes.
"I think you'll find Fredrickson is just a messenger boy for someone else a lot smarter than he is, who's controlling everything from behind the scenes."
Nick scowled. "With all due respect to your psychic abilities, Jane, I'm not prepared to throw away a promising subject just because you think he's an idiot."
"One, there's no such thing as psychics. Two, anyone who has had more than thirty seconds of conversation with him would agree that he is not the sharpest tool in the shed. And three, I have an idea how we can find out exactly who is calling the shots."
"And how is that?"
"Why don't you and I swing by old Bruce's place this afternoon and you'll find out."
"I don't like this."
Jane and Nick were sitting in Nick's car just across the street from Bruce Fredrickson's house. It had taken some persuading on Jane's part to get the FBI agent to consent to this scheme but after a few carefully-worded comments about how much a big bust like this would do for Nick's career prospects, he had won him over. Right from the start, he had suspected that Nick was the type who would do almost anything in the interests of career advancement. He longed for the accolades, the medals of valour, the certificates hanging on his office wall, so much so that it was possible to tweak his moral centre enough to get him to come around to Jane's way of thinking.
But the problem was that they had arrived to find Bruce not at home. Jane knew from experience that his plans should be executed as quickly as possible so as not to give the other people involved time to second-guess them. Now Nick it seemed had been struck with a classic case of cold feet.
"This is a really big risk," Nick went on. "If something goes wrong…"
"Everything's going to be fine," said Jane, bracingly. "Lisbon and I do this kind of thing all the time."
Did it count as lying if he chose not to mention that Lisbon usually only participated with great protest, and under false pretences? If he was the kind of person who cared about ethics, it might. But that was Lisbon's department, and though she invariably had a problem with his methods, she'd never yet questioned his results. And all he wanted to do was to get this case solved pronto, whisk her back to Sacramento and get started on the much more difficult task of convincing her to give him a chance.
But first things first.
"Seriously Jane," said Nick. "I really think we should call this in. Just in case."
"Go ahead, be my guest. But if you do that, just be prepared for the FBI to take all the credit when you make an arrest."
"That's not going to happen."
"Your loyalty is admirable, but seriously misconstrued. You think they're going to want to admit that one of their own agents actually took some initiative for once and went out and did something without waiting for orders? And on the say-so of a mere consultant no less? Trust me, you won't get a look in."
Nick chuckled. "You sure have issues with authority for somebody who works for a government agency."
"Yes but you see the advantage of being me, is that I can get away with saying and doing pretty much whatever I like, because unlike you, I have an indispensable skill."
Nick scoffed. "I don't know about skill but you sure as hell have an ego."
"Why? Because I told the truth? There are hundreds of FBI agents out there but only a handful of people in the world can do what I do. And that's why the CBI keeps me around."
"So they pay you to wreak havoc, and cause trouble for good honest cops?"
"No, they pay me to close cases, and close them fast. And as long as I keep doing that, they're not going to fire me."
"Do you have any appreciation for your job at all?" asked Nick, curiously. "Most agencies wouldn't go near someone like you with a ten-foot pole. You're a major liability, but the CBI still took you on. Aren't you even the slightest bit grateful?"
Jane mulled that over for a minute before answering.
"I like my job," he said eventually. "I like solving puzzles, and I get satisfaction from being right about things. I like doling out justice to people who deserve it. I'm glad that I work there, but that's about as far as it goes. At the end of the day, it's just a job."
"Well if that's how you feel, why don't you just quit and go your own way? Then you can be as big an asshole as you please without dragging other people down with you."
"And by 'people' you mean Lisbon?" said Jane, shrewdly.
"I don't know how she puts up with you." He paused for a minute, and then shook his head. "Then again, she always was a sucker for a lost cause. Thinks she can fix anything and anyone if she just tries hard enough."
'Yeah," said Jane, with half a smile. "I've never met anyone so goddamn stubborn."
Nick smirked to himself. "So that's why you're still hanging around, you have a thing for her. Well like I said, you ain't the first, and you won't be the last."
Jane didn't answer.
"Word to the wise," Nick went on. "You want what's best for her, you better get over this little infatuation of yours. You two are like chalk and cheese. She needs someone more on her wavelength."
Jane fumed silently in his seat. God, how he hated Nick Sheens right now. What did he know anyway? He'd been back in Lisbon's life for all of five minutes and thought he knew 'what was best for her?' The guy not only had no backbone and zero personality, he also had the presumption to think he could be the one to snatch away the woman of Jane's dreams. Well, that was not going to happen.
But before he had chance to make his thoughts known, a car sped down the street and pulled up in front of Fredrickson's house. They watched as Bruce got out and went inside.
Jane managed to beat back his fury at the man beside him. There'd be time enough later to get his revenge. For now, he had to focus on the job.
"So are you in or are you out?" he asked Nick.
"I told you, I don't know."
Jane blew out a sigh of frustration. "Look, all that's going to happen is Bruce and I are going to have a little chat. The only reason you're here is because if Lisbon knew I was going to a known criminal's house without backup, she'd flay me alive. She worries," he added, in response to Nick's raised eyebrow. "In the unlikely event things go pear-shaped, you can tell your supervisor that I made you do it. It's a win-win situation. Just stay in the car, and come in if I need you."
"And how will I know?"
Jane shrugged. "Instinct. Lisbon always seems to time it perfectly."
Finally, the other man nodded, and Jane was up and out of the car in an instant, lest he should change his mind again. He pounded on the front door for a minute until Fredrickson answered it.
"Hey there Bruce," Jane greeted him easily. "I was just passing through the neighbourhood and thought I'd drop by."
"How did you know where I live?" asked Fredrickson, thickly.
"You told me last night, at the party remember?" said Jane. "While we were having a drink. Remember?"
Fredrickson had a pained expression on his face as if straining to recall something. "Yeah, I remember," he said. "Come in."
It was just as Jane had hoped. Fredrickson had told him no such thing, but the fact that he'd been so eager to accept Jane's story was good news. His mental threshold was very low, the perfect candidate for suggestion.
He was sure that Lisbon would not have approved of what he was going to do next, but desperate times called for desperate measures.
"I'd love to," said Jane. "But first, I need you to relax and to listen very carefully to the sound of my voice…"
Lunch with Meg was one of the most enjoyable afternoons Lisbon had had in a long time. It was so much easier to forget about all the angst and drama of the last few days when she was out of the house, and away from Jane, the main cause of all the trouble. In fact, she'd barely even thought about him at all, as she and Meg discussed everything from places they'd travelled to, to movies they'd seen, to their favourite foods.
As much as she wished this case to be over, she knew she would be sorry to leave Meg behind. In different circumstances, they could have been good friends.
Her cell phone rang just as their post-meal coffees arrived. Muttering an apology to Meg, she excused herself from the table and stepped outside to take the call.
"Lisbon."
"Hey, it's me," Nick's harassed voice was heard on the other end of the phone. "Thank God you picked up."
"Why? What happened?"
"Well, Jane and I were over at Bruce Fredrickson's place…"
"Fredrickson's?" she cut him off. "What the hell were you doing there?"
"Jane said he had an idea how to find out who was running the drug operation," Nick went on in a rush. "So we got there, and Jane did a bit of his hocus-pocus on him to get in the house…"
"You let him hypnotize someone?" Lisbon cut him off again, being very careful not to talk too loudly. "Nick how could you? It's completely unethical."
"Really not the point at the moment," he said hastily. "Anyway after about five minutes I can hear bangs and crashes and then Jane comes pelting out with a some guy waving a kitchen knife after him. I don't know what he did in there, but he obviously pissed them off pretty bad."
"Fantastic," said Lisbon quietly. "Is he OK?"
"A couple of cuts and bruises but he seems to be all right."
She breathed a sigh of relief. "Good, I want him all in one piece so I can come and murder him myself. Where are you now?"
"Back at your place."
"OK," she took a deep breath and tried to gather her thoughts. "Wait there with him and watch him like a hawk, so he doesn't try and sneak off. I'll be back as soon as I can."
She swore as she hung up the phone. Yet again, Patrick Jane had found a way to ruin her day without being anywhere near her. It was a truly unique talent of his, and one she hated with a passion. Massaging her temples, she went back inside to tell Meg she couldn't stay for dessert. It was too bad. They'd ordered cheesecake. Jane was going to pay.
Twenty minutes later, she pulled up the SUV in the driveway and swept into the house to find both men sitting at the kitchen table. Nick got to his feet as she entered.
"I'm sorry," he said reaching out to touch her arm. "I should never have agreed to it."
"It's OK," she said, dodging the contact. "And I'm sorry too. I'll call you later, OK?"
"Sure."
He positively fled from the kitchen, as Lisbon turned blazing eyes on her consultant.
"And you," she snarled. "Is this your idea of acting more like a responsible adult, by putting yourself in danger? Again?"
"I was trying to speed things along," said Jane soothingly. "Granted, it got a little out of hand…"
"Out of hand?" she snapped angrily. "You nearly got yourself killed!"
He shrugged. "I've been in tighter corners then that."
An odd thing happened then. It was like all the fight and the anger went out of her as she looked at him with sadness instead.
"So this is the domestic bliss I was to expect from a relationship with you, is it? Coming home to someone who's willing to recklessly throw themselves into danger without a moment's thought, and then treating it like it's a joke. Guess I dodged a bullet on that one."
And she left the room.
I'll admit, I'm not thrilled with this one. But here it is. We're coming to the business end of the case now and it should be resolved in the next chapter or two.