A/N: Thanks to everybody who reviewed Chapter 1! Not gonna lie, I'm having an absolute blast writing this, so I'm glad people are enjoying it. Also, because the order of people's Austen preferences seems to be coming up a lot in the reviews (to my great delight by the way, I can quite happily yammer on about Austen endlessly), Pride and Prejudice is my own favourite Austen novel. Persuasion and Sense and Sensibility are pretty much in a continuous fight for the number two spot. I think Persuasion is probably the better book overall, but my love of Elinor Dashwood knows no bounds which makes Sense and Sensibility quite the contender.

I promised in the last chapter to explain in part what happened, so here we go. It's backstory time! I should also warn you that I do deviate from the original novel in some of the details because it is an adaptation and I think it works better (and I dropped a couple mini sub-plots because seriously, not actually out to write a novel here). I am however hoping that I'm still right in spirit. Enjoy.

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Chapter 2

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Lisbon waited until her team (plus one unexpected companion) was out of sight before walking into her office and sinking down into her desk chair, head in her hands.

Patrick Jane.

She hadn't been expecting that. She'd always known there was a chance she'd see him again. She didn't know why it was such a surprise; the new direction of his career meant that he was mentioned on some of the local news stations reasonably frequently. She certainly had the misfortune of hearing his name more than she'd liked. She should have been prepared for an inevitable meeting, but for some reason she'd always expected to have more warning.

It was still too new. She couldn't deal with it right now, so she did what she always did; she buried herself in her work. And as it happened thanks to her hateful meeting she not only had an excuse to be alone to collect her thoughts, but she also had a handy stack of financial reports to complete.

With that she pushed all thoughts of Jane aside and turned her mind to case-related expenses.

It was several hours later when she finally closed the last file and leaned back in her chair. No distractions now. She almost wished for more paperwork.

Almost.

She wondered if her office needed tidying. There had to be something in the room that could occupy her brain.

As if answering her call, her phone rang.

"I should have known you'd still be at the office," a voice on the other end said.

"Sir," she greeted in pleased surprise.

"Lisbon, I'm not your boss anymore remember?" Minelli reminded her indulgently. "You don't have to call me sir."

"Old habits," she replied easily. "And somehow Virgil just doesn't seem to roll off the tongue."

She heard his answering chuckle. "So how are you?" he asked.

"Fine, you know, the usual," she told him evasively.

"No new cases?" Minelli pressed. "Nothing at all out of the ordinary?"

Lisbon sighed. She should have known. "You heard."

"I may be retired, but I keep my ear to the ground, especially where my favourite ex-employee's concerned," he replied. "So it's true then? He's back?"

"He's back," Lisbon confirmed.

"Teresa..." Minelli started.

But she really didn't want to have this conversation, "I'm fine," she cut him off.

"Are you?" Minelli asked. "After what happened, I know you two were close and then, well..."

"Exactly," Lisbon told him firmly. "We were close. We're not any more. I'll admit it was a bit of a shock to see him, and there were a couple of awkward moments, but we'll be fine. My Jane-wrangling skills are a bit rusty, but I'm sure they'll come back reasonably quickly."

"Just like riding a bike?" Minelli suggested sarcastically.

"Exactly," Lisbon replied, deciding to ignore her boss' tone.

"How was he?" Minelli asked, curiosity getting the better of him.

Lisbon shrugged though her companion couldn't see it. "He's, he's Jane. It's hard to say really. He looked good if that's what you're asking."

"It's not," Minelli sighed.

Lisbon nodded, "I think he's still a little pissed off, but that's his problem."

"You made the right decision," her mentor told her softly.

"I know," she replied tiredly.

"Really, Lisbon," Minelli insisted. "There was no other choice."

"There was," she told him. "I just didn't take it."

"Teresa," he started.

"I don't regret my decision," she interrupted. "Not really. It's just... sometimes I wish, well, I wish that I didn't have to make it."

Minelli paused, before adding in a gentler tone. "You did what you had to do. What you were trained to do. It was the only sensible thing under the circumstances. Everybody knows it but that lunatic. He could have gone off on his own suicide mission and gotten himself, and possibly somebody else killed." The fact that the somebody else in question would have most likely been Lisbon herself remained unsaid.

"I know," Lisbon replied quietly. "But sometimes, sometimes I don't know... What if he really had changed?"

"He may have changed," Minelli allowed. "But had he changed enough? Were you that sure you could trust him? With Red John? Even you couldn't control him when the serial killer popped up again. I may not have seen him personally in the later cases, but I saw him after Bosco, I saw him with Rebecca. He couldn't have possibly expected you to take that risk." Though Virgil knew what the decision had cost her he refused to feel guilty about helping to convince her to deliberately leave Jane in the dark in this particular instance. Minelli knew he'd never feel guilty about doing everything in his power to stop Jane from dragging her out on what the retired agent was absolutely convinced (regardless of her opinion on the matter) would have been little more than a suicide mission.

Lisbon didn't reply. Logically it had been the right decision, and she hadn't lied when she told Minelli she didn't regret it. But even a year later her actions still felt somehow wrong, like there should have been another option.

"Okay," Minelli added when he realized she wasn't about to say anything else on the subject. "We won't talk about it. But you know you can call me, whenever you need."

"Thanks boss," she said softly.

"Teresa," he said in warning.

"What?" she asked innocently. "You told me not to call you sir."

He laughed then, knowing she needed it, "Good night Teresa. Go home; get some rest. Good luck on your case tomorrow."

"Thanks," she told him as she hung up.

She sighed and prepared to leave for the day. Jane was really back. No excuse to avoid the issue now, especially since Minelli'd brought it to the forefront. She'd worked with the blond-haired menace for years, and she'd worked with him closely. He'd been her madcap consultant that no one else would tolerate, but who she'd put up with him for any number of reasons. Firstly because he closed cases, secondly it was because she had pitied him. Or maybe not pitied; he'd hate that word. She'd empathized with him. She'd wanted to help him catch his family's killer, though she'd always had a more legal viewpoint on the situation. Then, somewhere along the way, she'd grown to like him.

The man could be quite possibly the most irritating person she'd ever met, but then, every so often he could also be incredibly sweet. And Jane had tried to be her friend. He really had. He hadn't always succeeded, but the attempt had meant something to her. Possibly more than it should have. She wasn't used to having people try so deliberately to brighten her day.

They had been friends too. True friends.

First it'd just been coffee in her office after hours, then one day the coffee machine in the office had broken (something part of her had always suspected was his doing), so they'd moved their routine for winding down to a coffee shop down the street. Not too long after that he started showing up at her apartment for movies, or to make her dinner because for some reason he seemed convinced she couldn't feed herself. Then he was lending her books, and calling her to chat at random times. And she found herself more relaxed around him. She opened up. Had even told him about her brothers one evening, and he hadn't teased or held it over her head, not once. He still pulled idiotic stunts on the job, but he actually told her about a few of them from time to time. And her opinion of his actions seemed to matter. He seemed to be relaxing too. She'd been pleased, let herself believe that Patrick Jane had finally been taking steps back towards the land of the living. One day she'd realized that his friendship was one of the more important in her life.

That was all it'd ever been though, friendship. It couldn't be more. Not with Red John still in the picture.

Red John. Lisbon couldn't repress the slight involuntary shiver that the name still provoked. Friendship or no, Jane had always hunted the serial killer with a single-mindedness that was frightening. Lisbon had tried to help him as far as she was able, but the potential consequences frightened her. She'd always insisted on trust in their working relationship, and Jane had been only too happy to tell her of his plans for his nemesis. Somehow the image had gotten planted in her brain.

She'd woken up in a cold sweat more than once, trying to banish visions of Jane holding a bloody knife, standing over an almost unrecognizable corpse, smiling like a madman.

Lisbon had promised herself over and over again that it wouldn't happen.

So when one of the undercover units of the CBI started piecing information about the serial killer she'd insisted on being kept in on their monitoring efforts, strictly confidential though.

Working with Jane all those years had given her a poker face so good that he hadn't even realized. She could lie when it mattered. Or maybe he'd just stopped looking for deception in her, trusting her enough to keep him in the loop.

That had been his mistake.

Still, when she'd received reliable intel she had paused, really she had. She'd almost considered letting him on the plan. But in the end she'd decided it was far too risky. Jane went nuts any time Red John was even tangentially related to anything. Even Hightower, normally Jane's biggest fan, had supported the decision not to get him informed. Still Lisbon had waivered. It had taken more than one late night conversation over whiskey with her former boss, and the man whose opinion she actually valued, before she'd allowed herself to commit to the idea.

It was for Jane's own good. If she'd told him about the plan he'd almost certainly have rushed in and gotten himself killed. This way he'd still be alive to appreciate his closure. Even if deep down, it'd still felt wrong.

So that night the Serious Crimes Unit backed up by the undercover agents and a full SWAT team had moved in on Red John minus one consultant. In all honesty Lisbon couldn't remember all the details anymore, though she was sure they were in her report. Red John had realized what was happening about a minute too early, putting their undercover man at serious risk. There'd been no choice but to order SWAT to take the shot.

She does remember the faces of her team when they saw the body, the identical expressions of equal parts relief and dread. Lisbon had known they were all only too happy that she was the one whose responsibility it was to tell Jane what had happened.

She also remembers trying to tell herself that he wouldn't be all that upset. Oh, it'd be a shock of course, no doubt about it. But he'd understand. And Red John was dead, that should have been all that mattered right?

As self-delusions go that one had been her most spectacular.

She remembers showing up at his apartment that evening. He'd been surprised to see her, surprised and originally pleased. He'd wanted her to try some new recipe or other that he'd found.

Then she'd stepped further into his apartment and he'd gotten a good look at her face.

"Lisbon?" he'd asked softly.

"We need to talk," she'd told him firmly.

Nodding he'd led her to his den. She'd taken a seat across from him only to stare at her hands for a full minute. She swore she could feel the anxiety rolling off of him.

"Lisbon," he'd repeated. "What is it? Whatever it is, you can tell me. We'll figure it out. Hey, I helped you beat a murder charge remember? Can't be much worse than that," he'd said, trying to put her at ease.

Lisbon sent him an almost painful smile, before she took a breath. It was now or never. "Jane, Red John's dead." She'd known it was blunt, but what else was there to say at that point? It'd all come out eventually anyway.

The effect had been immediate. All the colour drained from his face. He stood abruptly before sitting back down again. "You're sure?" he'd asked, his voice hollow.

"Very," she'd told him. "One of the undercover units has been catching snatches of information about him for a while now. They moved in tonight. He caught on, went for one of the agents, got shot in the head by a sniper," she'd summarized quickly.

"He's... he's dead," Jane had repeated.

"Yes," Lisbon confirmed. She'd moved to put a hand on his arm, but he had jerked away. Lisbon tried not to let it hurt her.

"I don't know... I can't..." Jane had started to say.

"It's over Jane," Lisbon had said softly. "He can't hurt anyone else. We got him."

Jane shook his head, "No," he'd insisted. "I was supposed to... I needed... my family..."

"You were never supposed to become a killer Jane," Lisbon corrected.

He looked at her then, and her breath caught in her throat when she realized his eyes were almost manic. "I was!" he'd whispered angrily. "They were my family. I was supposed to protect them! It was my job to catch him. I wanted to be the one to kill him and I wanted to watch as the blood left his body. And I was going to enjoy it. It was all I had left. What am I going to do now?"

Still, Lisbon had tried to soothe him, "Whatever you want," she'd promised. "You can do whatever you want. You're free now, don't you see? You're welcome to stay at the CBI if you like, or you can try something else. Take a tropical vacation, go to Europe. You're not tied down by this anymore. Isn't that what your family would want?"

"Don't talk to me about my family!" Jane had snapped. "What would you know about..." then he'd paused, watching her. "How did you know?" he'd asked suddenly, the wheels in his head finally beginning to turn again.

"How did I know what?" Lisbon'd whispered, her heart thudding in her chest.

"How did you know that Red John was dead?" Jane had asked again, the anger around him palpable.

Lisbon took a breath and met his eyes. "I was there," she'd told him simply.

"You were there?" Jane repeated his voice cold.

"Yes." Short, to the point, truthful. After everything he'd deserved that.

"Who else?" he'd asked immediately.

"Me, the team, the undercover unit, and a SWAT team," she'd replied.

She watched helplessly as his eyes turned cold and he shut down. "I see," he'd told her quietly.

"Jane..." she'd said softly. "Let me explain."

"Explain what?" he'd asked, his voice sarcastic. "The funny coincidence that allowed Red John to show up right where two teams of CBI agents and a SWAT team happened to be waiting. He must have been surprised."

"Jane..."

"But then, in this case I actually understand how he feels," Jane had admitted disgustedly.

"Jane..."

"On the other hand, none of this is a surprise to you is it Teresa." He'd asked coldy furious..

"Patrick..." Lisbon had tried desperately. She'd needed to explain.

"Oh, it's Patrick now is it? Tell me, how long have you known? How long have you been planning this? A week? A month? Two months? Three?" His grin had turned bitter when she'd flinched. "Oh Teresa," he'd said scathingly. "Three months. I should be impressed; I didn't suspect a thing. But then why would I? You were always the one who insisted that we needed to trust each other to do this job. Why should I have expected a betrayal from you? Of all the people on the planet... Tell me, did it even cross your mind that you could bring me in to this?"

"It was felt that would be too dangerous, given your past with Red John," she'd told him truthfully. She'd known she'd owed him that at least.

"It was felt?" Jane repeated. "It was felt? By who exactly? Was it your decision Lisbon? Or was it Hightower? Or maybe someone else entirely? Which one of your bosses, your friends convinced you?"

"Jane everyone who knows you, who's ever worked with you knows how you feel about Red John..." Lisbon had told him, trying to keep her composure, trying to make him see.

"So the team as well then?" he'd suggested.

"Does it matter?" she'd shot back. "They weren't happy about it, none of us were. But they understood why Jane."

"Of course they did." Jane had replied. "They'd follow you through hell and back. And I bet even Hightower was thrilled by the decision."

"Well after that stunt you pulled that got you kidnapped and almost killed can you blame her?" Lisbon had asked him.

"Ah yes, Special Agent Hightower wouldn't want anything happening to the company resources," Jane had remarked ironically. "Bet you were only too happy to toe that particular line when she asked."

"She's my boss Jane," Lisbon had replied tiredly. Deep down she'd known this was an argument she'd never win. "Do I always agree with her? Of course not. Sometimes I don't, but it's my job and she deserves my respect as my superior. Besides, I happened to agree with her this time. This was my decision. If I'd really thought she was wrong, I'd have... Well, I don't know what I'd have done, but I'd have done something. But let's face it, every supervisor you've ever had is terrified of how you get when Red John's involved. You used to scare the crap out of Minelli on a regular basis."

"Minelli," Jane said musing. "You still see him don't you? Dinner every other week is it? Despite his retirement he's still concerned about the goings on at the CBI isn't he?"

"Jane..." she remembered trying to cut off his tirade.

"Yes, not officially part of the CBI family, but concerned all the same." Jane had continued as if she hadn't spoken. "And almost a bit of a father figure for one lovely female agent, no? You always were a bit of a favourite weren't you? Even if you never got any special treatment to speak of. He always was protective. Oh, Virgil'd do absolutely anything he could to protect you. Especially if it meant getting you away from your own dangerously unstable consultant. That way he wouldn't have to worry quite so much. After all, you are like a daughter to him; everyone knows it."

"It wasn't me we were trying to protect it was you, you idiot!" she'd snapped at him then.

"Well, me and everyone else around," Jane had clarified. "After all, if I'm as unstable as you're making me out to be I wouldn't have been a just a danger to myself but to everyone else around me," Jane had pointed out logically. "Agent Lisbon certainly couldn't let anyone else get hurt because of my foolhardiness."

"And you could?" she'd asked, her irritation beginning to surface.

"Ah so you do think I'm foolhardy," Jane had concluded.

"Dammit Jane, that isn't what I meant and you know it. Would you want anyone else getting hurt?"

"How can you ask me that Lisbon?" he'd asked furiously. "You of all people know how much I... how much Red John... All I wanted was to kill him to prevent another murder. After my family... I thought you understood. I trusted you." He looked at her again. "I really trusted you," he'd repeated, sounding genuinely shocked and hurt. "You were always telling me that we had to trust each other. And fool that I am I believed you. Guess I was wrong."

"Jane..." she'd said desperately. She could see the pain in his eyes now, the betrayal. And that was somehow worse than all the accusations he'd been hurling her way all night.

"No, I understand perfectly Agent Lisbon. I'm a liability. Always have been. I tried to play by your rules, but you never believed me, so I guess it doesn't count. Didn't you say once you knew I'd get you fired one day? Well it's not something you'll have to worry about any more."

"Jane..." she'd tried one final time.

But he hadn't heard her. He'd stormed out of the room. A few minutes later she heard the bedroom door slam. She hadn't known what else to say. So she'd just left his apartment. And he was gone the next day.

Still, she didn't regret the decision. She'd probably always regret that she'd had to make it. But Lisbon still felt that she couldn't have done otherwise. Minelli was right; she couldn't risk the potential collateral damage. Who knows, Jane or someone else could have been killed in the confusion of an unplanned confrontation and Red John might have escaped. Catching a serial killer like him required careful planning.

She couldn't have looked the other way, not even for Jane. It wasn't who she was. She was a protector; she tried to help people, to take care of them. She couldn't help it. She wasn't in it for the glory or the power, she just did her job. Quietly, efficiently, every day she did her best. Lisbon didn't put herself forward and she definitely didn't make rash decisions. Everything was planned, the pros and cons perfectly balanced for each decision. Painful as her decision had been, she refused to believe that at the time she'd been wrong.

And if the result of the decision to keep Jane as far away from Red John as possible was that he got to live his life free of the spectre of a psychopath, then no, she couldn't really have any regrets, even if it meant their own relationship was destroyed.

Still, a year later she'd by lying if she didn't wish for a slightly different outcome.

xxxxx

Jane waved his ex-colleagues into their cars as they left the restaurant. It had been good seeing them again. He'd missed them, missed having a team, missed having some consistency in his life. It may have paid better, but freelancing was sometimes a bit lonely. And all of his former colleagues were good people. A year later they'd been able to pick up basically where they'd left off. It was nice, just like old times.

Well, almost.

It could never be exactly like old times. She hadn't been there.

And even if she was there next time it could never be like old times again. He'd thought the year might have given him a bit of distance, maybe some perspective, but a large part of him was still angry with her. He supposed she'd only been doing what she thought was right, but she hadn't even bothered to talk to him about it! He remembered the last time she'd showed up at his apartment like it was yesterday, when she'd flat out told him that she'd known where Red John was but deliberately kept it from him. Part of him still wished she'd just lied. She was clearly pretty good at it.

He remembered the moment when he realized what she'd done, the degree to which she'd lied to him. For a minute he almost couldn't breathe. Then a moment later as he heard her try to explain everything had just solidified in his brain. It'd become crystal clear to him that Lisbon had never really trusted him. He'd known they'd had issues in the past, but he'd thought they were moving past it. He'd honestly thought he was making progress. But it'd all been a lie.

And that had been what pretty much broke him.

Jane had thought they were on the way to reaching an understanding of sorts. He'd been trying to live by her rules. Hadn't quite come around when it came to Red John, but he'd been considering it. He still didn't agree with her opinion, but... But Teresa Lisbon had come to mean a great deal to him. She'd become the dominant personality in his life, bar none. He'd begun to feel more than he'd ever expected to feel again. He'd even begun wondering if there could be a life post-Red John. But all that changed when he saw her face, saw the guilt so plainly displayed. He'd always been able to read her. Well, almost always. And it had hurt that she'd obviously never even though to try talking to him about it, how easily she'd been persuaded by everyone around her that he would always be the same unpredictable, dangerous, man he'd always been when Red John was around. That he'd ever have treated her life that lightly. He'd trusted her, but in the end she'd never really reciprocated. It was the overwhelming feeling of betrayal that sent him to the hills.

He'd just cut all ties. And he'd desperately needed to be doing something, something away from her. So he'd become a freelance consultant. Why not? He clearly had an aptitude for that sort of thing, and this way he got to have all the fun with a fraction of the rules.

Then the new (and wonderfully strange) case in Monterey brought them back together.

He didn't know what he'd been expecting, why he'd thought that she'd somehow have been frozen in time in the year he was gone. When he'd seen her again in the hall at first all he'd noticed was that her hair was different. He'd missed the bangs. He'd missed the way her eyes had twinkled out at him beneath them.

But her eyes hadn't been twinkling at all. In fact the old wall that had existed between them in their first months of working together was back up with a vengeance. He'd thought he'd seen a hint of a reaction in her eyes more than once, but it was momentary at best, then gone. In fact, during their brief conversation the only thing he could tell she'd felt with any degree of certainty was shock.

Apparently Teresa Lisbon didn't care one way or another that he was back.

Well that was good. Because he certainly wasn't looking for a renewal of their friendship either. Patrick Jane had moved on. She'd done what she'd thought was right, now it was his turn. He'd show Teresa Lisbon just how little her presence affected him. He'd put the betrayal behind him; now they could move on to a strictly professional relationship. Which was probably what she'd always wanted anyway.

Well, Agent Lisbon, Jane thought to himself, bring it on.

xxxxx

TBC