A/N: I have to say, I'm enjoying the reviews strongly siding with Lisbon. They're entertaining me. Hopefully this chapter balances things a bit more. It may be my favourite.

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Chapter 7

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Approximately two days later...

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Patrick Jane was driving Harry's beat up old pickup truck back to Sacramento.

His friend was apparently heading to the city in the next couple of days for business reasons and he'd told Jane he'd get the truck back then.

Jane had to admit it was certainly change from the Citroen.

But then a lot had changed in the last few days.

Ever since that horrible night. Jane shivered slightly in the California sun. He didn't think he'd ever forget the sight of Jenkins shooting Lou. The whole thing had been his fault; it was something else he'd have to live with.

If it hadn't been for Lisbon...

Lisbon.

She'd arrived at the crucial moment and somehow managed to save the day. He'd been an absolute wreck, completely frozen. Not Lisbon though. She'd just gotten it done. She'd taken control in a second, helped Lou, helped him, directed Harry and Cho, her little army of two. Everything that could have possibly been done was.

She was like his own little guardian angel (albeit a particularly stubborn one). It seemed that even after a year her Jane's-in-trouble-radar was still in good working order.

A year.

It'd been a year since he'd seen the woman. The same person who, for as long as he'd known her, had always managed to arrive at exactly the right moment. And he hadn't spoken to her in a year. All because he'd been too busy being an idiot.

And after everything, after he'd basically ignored what she'd told him, defied her yet again, when by rights she should have been furious with him, she'd gone with him to the hospital.

Because she'd known he needed her.

He doesn't remember much of the drive there. When he arrived he was poked and prodded at by the nurses until they told him he would be fine once he got over the initial shock, but he was firmly instructed to take it easy for the next couple of hours. He heard Lisbon ensure the nurse that she'd take care of it. He wasn't sure exactly how she did it, but she got them to release him into her care without anyone even asking his opinion.

Not that Jane objected. He was perfectly willing to let Lisbon make the rest of the evening's decisions. Clearly his own choices couldn't be relied on.

When they were back on their own he felt her push a warm drink into his hand.

He looked down at it stupidly before he turned his eyes back up to her face.

"Tea," she told him with a smile. "I know the quality's probably terrible, but it's better than nothing, and I did put the milk in first."

He managed a half a smile in thanks at that.

"Come on," she told him, taking him by the arm. "Lou's in surgery upstairs. Last I heard the doctors were optimistic. There's a waiting room."

He nodded, not even questioning that she'd already known what he wanted.

When they got to the waiting room Jane wasn't particularly surprised to see Rigsby and Van Pelt already there.

"Hey," Van Pelt said softly as she stood, when she saw them. "How are you?" she asked him.

"Fine," he told her quickly. "How is she?"

"Doctor was out a while ago," Rigsby said. "Somehow the bullet managed not to hit anything vital. They're finishing up now. Not sure if they're going to let anyone in tonight, or wait until tomorrow."

"Her parents will be here first thing in the morning," Van Pelt told Lisbon. "And Cho's back at the station taking care of everything and getting people up to speed. Clara Greenwood's been informed of what happened. I think she's going to stay with friends in the city for a couple of days."

"Good," Lisbon told her. "Thanks guys. Nice work. Why don't you two head back to the hotel, I can stick around for a while. We don't all need to be sleep deprived. I'll call you if there's any change."

"You sure?" Van Pelt asked.

"Yeah, we don't mind staying," Rigsby added.

"I'm sure," she said. "We don't need a crowd of people here," she said gesturing to Jane. Van Pelt nodded. Suddenly Lisbon realized something and she grasped the other woman's wrist lightly. "Unless you want to," she added. "I know you two were friends."

Van Pelt shook her head. "No, you're right," she told Lisbon. "Some of us should get some sleep." And they both knew that even if Grace had offered to stay, Lisbon certainly wasn't about to leave. "I'll see Lou in the morning."

"Okay," Lisbon said.

Suddenly Jane felt Rigsby clamping a hand on his shoulder, "I'm glad you're alright man," the agent told him.

"We both are," Van Pelt added with a soft smile. "Promise you'll call if you need anything," she added.

Jane had nodded quickly, "Thanks," he told them.

With one final look back they'd both left.

Wordlessly Jane and Lisbon found a pair of chairs in the corner of the room. Jane rested his head against the wall and closed his eyes. It was so easy, with Van Pelt and Rigsby acting so concerned and friendly, so easy to pretend that it was a year ago. That he was still a member of the team; that he belonged.

Had he been doing that all case, he wondered to himself. Pretending that he was still a member of Lisbon's team? That everything was still like it had been a year ago? Sliding back into the old familiar friendships with the other three agents while holding on to his anger at their boss?

He winced. He'd been angry at her for a year for using her "Jane-needs-protecting" radar, but then at the first sign of trouble since seeing her again, his life had depended on it. And not just his life, Lou's.

And a year ago, if he'd gone after Red John it wouldn't have been Lou's life potentially in danger, it would have been Lisbon's.

He was a complete and utter idiot.

Jane opened his eyes and glanced at the woman next to him, unsurprised to see that she was already watching him.

"This isn't your fault you know," she told him softly.

He scoffed. "Then whose fault is it?" he asked her bitterly.

"How about Jenkins?" she'd suggested. "After all, he was the one with the gun, not you."

"Don't need a gun to kill someone," Jane reminded her.

"But you do need one to shoot someone," she countered.

Jane almost smiled in spite of himself. God he'd missed her. Now that he wasn't being an idiot anymore he was finally realizing it.

"You know one of these days you're just going to have to say it," he told her.

"Say what?" she asked in confusion.

"I told you so," he replied emotionlessly.

Lisbon's breath caught in her throat. "Jane..."

"You really deserve to this time," he told her as if she hadn't spoken. "After all, you pretty much expressly told me not to do what I did."

"Yeah, well, I didn't say it to Lou, and I'm not going to say it you either," she told him. "That would be cruel."

"Maybe I deserve cruel," he told her.

"No one deserves cruel," she replied with a shake of her head. "And while I'll admit this certainly wasn't one of your finest hours, and I admit, part of me wants to punch you in the nose again..."

"Do it," Jane told her. "Please."

But she shook her head, "Too many people watching. I might get arrested. And you're still recovering. Besides, I should have known you'd go off and try to lure out Jenkins anyway, even though I'd ordered you not to. Maybe because I'd ordered you not to. I made a mistake too."

But Jane shook his head violently at that. "No," he insisted. "You didn't make a mistake. Of all of us, you were the only person who didn't. If you hadn't realized when you did Lou and I'd probably both be dead. You probably saved her life." Then he took a deep breath in an attempt to calm his agitation.

"I still should have realized sooner," she told him. She couldn't help thinking that if only she'd figured it out five minutes earlier, if only she'd tied Jane to his chair while she took the phone call. If she felt that way she could only imagine what Jane was going through. It was why she refused to yell. Too much like kicking a puppy when he was down. Besides, despite their disagreement, she did know Jane. She really should have known what was coming.

"Not your job to do that anymore," he told her softly, as if he was reading her thoughts.

Lisbon had been reaching to put her hand on his arm in an attempt to give comfort. At his words it froze midway there and dropped into her lap. For the first time since they'd arrived at the hospital she was quite literally speechless.

"Lisbon," he said suddenly, and she was surprised by the emotion in his voice. He shook his head and turned towards her, looking her right in the eye. "I'm sorry. I was an idiot."

She did put her hand on his forearm then. "Jane, it was bad luck okay? No one could have known how it would go. Lou went with you willingly; you know she did. And without even trying I can think of at least three times that two of us did something at least as stupid when we were working together. Remember that time in Santa Cruz with the drug dealer? Or that time with the axe-wielding psychopath? Both of those could have gone down a hell of a lot differently. Guess we always got lucky and things worked out. You and Lou didn't."

"I don't think it was just luck," Jane murmured dryly. "But I didn't mean I was sorry for tonight, though I am."

"Hm?" she asked.

"I meant a year ago," he clarified.

Her eyes widened as Teresa Lisbon was struck dumb for the second time in ten minutes.

Jane looked like he was going to continue when they were interrupted by a doctor.

"Agent Lisbon?" he asked.

She turned quickly towards him. "Yes Doctor?" she asked.

He almost smiled. "We just finished with Sheriff Granger," he told her. "She was extremely lucky. She'd lost a lot of blood, but she should make a full recovery. It'll just take some time. You'll be able to see her shortly if you want. But it'll have to be a brief visit," the doctor stressed.

"Thank you," she told him, clearly relieved.

"I'll send a nurse for you when she's out of recovery," he told them before he left them.

Jane collapsed back into one of the chairs in relief.

"There now," Lisbon told him. "Didn't I tell you everything'd be okay?" she asked him.

"Actually, I'm not sure that you did," he told her after a moment's consideration.

"Yeah, well," Lisbon muttered. "I meant too."

"I know," Jane admitted. "Hey, how did the doctor know who you were?" he asked.

She shrugged, "I dropped by up here earlier, back when you were in with the nurses downstairs, checked in with Rigsby and Van Pelt."

"Ah," he said. He should have known. She was always taking care of everything in the background. At the house, and now at the hospital. He on the other hand... He frowned. "I wasn't very good at the house earlier."

"No, not really," Lisbon admitted.

"Sorry about that," he told her.

"It's okay," she told him. "Harry was probably better anyway. He knew exactly where things were and what to tell the 911 operators. Besides, It was traumatic. Under the circumstances freezing up's a perfectly understandable reaction."

"You didn't," he told her.

"My job," she said with a shrug.

"Still..."

"I've had lots more practice with that sort of thing," she pointed out.

"I know. When you were trying to keep Lou conscious you implied you'd been shot before," Jane mentioned.

She nodded, "Twice."

He glanced over at her in alarm.

She sighed. "My job's dangerous Jane. You know that." She saw the look on his face and knew he wouldn't let it drop. "First time was before I knew you. I got hit back in San Francisco, in the leg. It was a 16 year old kid trying to prove himself to one of the local gangs. No long-term effects, though the recovery period wasn't fun. Second time was six months ago. A junkie so strung out I'm surprised he managed to hit the broad side of a barn. As it is he grazed the edge of my shoulder. I was lucky, just needed a bandage. I was back in the field a few weeks later."

Jane's eyes widened. She'd been shot. He'd been gone and she'd been shot. And from the sounds of it, it was pure luck that the bullet hadn't hit six inches lower, in which case they probably wouldn't have been able to have this conversation. He'd been busy being angry with her and she'd almost been killed. If he hadn't realized he was an idiot before he certainly would have now.

All he wanted to do was wrap his arms around her and never let her go, but he couldn't do that anymore. And it was his own damn fault.

He settled for running his hand down her arm, an action that clearly shocked her, but she smiled.

After that they stood in silence for a while, waiting for the nurse. Then they were finally allowed to see Lou. Lisbon didn't stay long, just a few minutes to wish her a good recovery. She also assured the sheriff that everything as under control and Lou wasn't to worry about anything. Then Lisbon left Jane alone with the patient, promising to wait. Jane wasn't exactly sure what he said. He definitely apologized, and he told Lou her parents were on the way. Then at her insistence he told her what happened.

"How did she know to come find us?" Lou whispered.

"It's Lisbon," Jane told her with a shrug. "She does that."

"Thank her for me would you?" Lou asked. "I doubt she'll let me."

"And you think she'll let me?" Jane asked with a twist of his lip. "But I promise to try."

Then he told her he wasn't supposed to stay long, that he was glad she was okay, and he'd be back to visit in the morning.

He joined Lisbon in the hallway. "She says thank you for saving her life," he told her.

Predictably, Lisbon waved it off, muttering something about 'the job.' "You ready to go?" she asked him. "I'll drive you back."

"I think I might stick around for a while," he told her.

"Jane, she needs her rest," Lisbon admonished.

"I know," he told her. "I'm not going to... I just don't want to leave her alone," he admitted.

Lisbon nodded recognizing the guilt in his eyes. "Do you need me to..." she started to ask.

He shook his head, "Go." He told her softly. "You've got to be dead on your feet."

"Are you sure?" she asked.

"Yeah," he told her. "I think I just need to... I don't know..."

"I understand," she told him. "But call me if you need anything."

"I will," he promised.

"Okay," she told him. With that she turned to leave.

"Hey Lisbon?" he called after her. She turned back. "Thank you," he told her. "For everything."

She nodded, "Anytime."

He watched her all the way to the elevator.

He'd seen her briefly the next morning. She'd come by to tell Lou that the team was heading back to Sacramento. Jenkins had basically admitted to the murders before he'd been shot. Everyone was still unsure whether or not he'd actually released any confidential information, but all the relevant files were being shipped to the CBI where the team would go through them from the comfort of their own desks. Lisbon left Van Pelt to catch up with her friend, and she found Jane in the hallway.

"How you doing?" she asked softly.

He'd shot her a look.

"I know," she told him. "But I had to ask."

"I know," he replied. "I don't know," he answered honestly.

"You should stay," Lisbon told him. "Take a few days."

He looked up at her in surprise. "We don't exactly need you on the case at the moment," she pointed out. "Going through stacks of paperwork was never exactly your thing," she reminded him. "We solved the murders, now it's time for the practicalities."

"Never my specialty," Jane murmured.

"No," she agreed. "And completely apart from that you need to take some time Jane, come to terms," she informed him. "Plus, you have a couple of friends in the area. Maybe it's time to catch up."

"Maybe," he admitted.

"Good," she told him. "And right now you need to leave." He looked up. "You've been here all night Jane," she said. "At the very least you could use a shower."

He smirked. "Lisbon," he said softly.

"Go," she ordered lightly. "You know where to find me if you need me."

So he'd left. And so had she. But it was for the best. They couldn't have the conversation he wanted to have until he managed to figure out what was going on in his head. It wasn't fair to her to add his own mental confusion to her plate.

She'd gone back to Sacramento with the team and he'd crashed in Harry's spare room. Spent most of the time walking along the beach or drinking beer and watching Harry work on his boat. His old friend was surprisingly non-judgemental, even after all the time apart, and after all that had happened. Sophie too. Jane didn't know why it surprised him. The best friends were like that.

He'd gone to visit Lou a couple of times. He'd tried to apologize again, but she wouldn't let him. She wasn't angry, and she'd ordered him not to be an idiot, and to stop wallowing in guilt and feeling sorry for himself. Claimed the negative energy he was throwing off was hindering her recovery. So Jane had promised to try to let go of the guilt, for her sake.

Cho had called him once, to tell him they were back at the CBI and that they were still neck deep in files. From the sounds of it Hightower was keeping a watchful eye. Jane smirked. Lisbon must have been just thrilled.

He still hadn't spoken to Lisbon since the hospital. She hadn't called. Not that he expected her to. He knew he was going to have to be the one to make the next move.

Quite possibly the only good thing to come out of his stupidity over the past few days was his realization of Lisbon's worth. Oh, he knew he knew the realization was long-overdue, that he should have realized it months ago. But there was nothing he could do about that now.

It was working with Lou that had really driven the point home. He knew the comparison between the two women was unfair, but he couldn't help making it. Yes, working with Lou had been good for his ego. Her fascination in his abilities had been flattering, and when she'd seemed so ready to listen to every little thing he said his sense of male pride had swelled in pleasure. Having a partner in crime ready to rush into whatever he suggested at the drop of a hat had been a nice change. Someone who didn't worry about every little rule they might be breaking. It had been exciting.

But he didn't need another person like him, didn't need any more encouragement to break the rules. He needed someone to balance him, to know when his ideas got too outlandish, to stop him from stepping off the ledge. He needed Lisbon.

He'd gotten frustrated with her for it more times than he could count, but the Jenkins case had driven home the simple fact that Lisbon's innate insistence on practicality and caution was probably all that'd kept him alive for so long. And he in turn had brought out her more playful side. They'd made a good team.

And speaking of keeping him alive, once he'd had it roughly shoved in his face just how good at her job she was, everything else he'd liked about her came back as well. He remembered their friendship in vivid detail now. They'd spent some of almost every day together. He remembered the private jokes, the secret smiles, the entire days they spent together outside the office. He remembered hugging her when she was sad, feeling unbelievably privileged that she'd let him. He remembered how she'd sat up with him for hours every year on the anniversary of his family's death. He remembered trying to teach her how to bake, making sure she took time for herself from time to time, making her laugh until she couldn't speak on her couch over a bowl of popcorn... God he loved her laugh.

They'd been such good friends. It was all they could ever have been back then because of Red John. But somewhere in the back of his mind he'd always thought that if it hadn't been for the serial killer... Nothing had ever come of it of course, but the possibility had lingered in the background.

And he'd thrown it all away. Because she'd insisting on valuing his own safety (and her own) more than he did. She'd insisted on protecting him. And as he'd said, given recent events he obviously needed that. Yes, when she hadn't told him about Red John it had been a betrayal. And yes, he'd had every right to be angry. But had he honestly planned on being angry at her for the rest of his life because of one decision that he didn't agree with? He wasn't even sure it could be called a mistake. From her perspective it certainly hadn't been.

He'd told himself over and over again when he mentally railed against her for it that if she'd told him about her plan in advance he'd have been reasonable, that they could have worked something out. But could he have guaranteed that? She certainly could never have been sure. And while she hadn't let him be the one to pull the trigger, her actions had been partly responsible for Red John's death. The serial killer gone, his family avenged. Shouldn't that have been enough of a compromise for anyone?

He'd had a year to come to grips with the fact that the serial killer who'd killed the two people he'd loved more than anything was dead. And though he'd always remember his wife and daughter, in many ways he had accepted it. Had he come to grips with Lisbon's part in the matter without even realizing it?

He thought maybe he had.

Oddly enough it was Lou who'd given him the final shove he needed when he'd visited her the last time. She'd informed him that if he didn't get his ass in gear and get on with his own life she'd call in her deputies and have them kick the crap out of him.

Not an hour later he was already on the road in his borrowed vehicle watching the scenery fly by alongside him.

He smiled to himself when he saw his exit.

It turns out Lisbon had been right about one more thing.

He did know where she was. It'd just taken him a while to realize it. But he'd finally figured it out.

So he was going back to Scaramento, back to the CBI, back to her.

xxxxx

Meanwhile back at the CBI, the entire Serious Crimes Unit was still looking for some kind of evidence that Jenkins had used any of the information he'd stolen. They were going through all of Jenkins' personal effects and the mountains of paperwork at the law office to try and figure out if anything had been leaked. So far no luck. There was nothing suspicious in his bank records, no evidence of any large unexplained deposits. It was possible he had another account they didn't know about, but no one had been able to find it. There was also nothing incriminating in his house, beyond copies of some of the files he'd tampered with. So far there was no evidence whatsoever that he'd actually given any of the information to anyone.

It was possible that he hadn't actually gotten that far in his plan, but it seemed unlikely that anyone would go to all the trouble of stealing the information and murdering two people to cover it up if they didn't at least have someone in mind to give it to. Lisbon knew that Jenkins must have been planning on selling the contents of the files (some of which would have at the very least embarrassed a congressman and a prominent D.A., and she wasn't even going to get started on the local businessmen). But for all their searching, the team still had no idea who he'd been planning on selling them to. There were so many sources of potential leverage that it was nearly impossible to narrow down the suspect pool.

Lisbon was on her way to grab a cup of coffee when Hightower called her into her office. Lisbon had to admit she was almost hoping for a case. She wouldn't mind a break from the paperwork.

"Agent Lisbon," Hightower said when she entered, "I'd like you to meet someone. This is Special Agent Elliot. He's with the secret service. We worked together years ago. He's between assignments and dropped by for a visit at my request. I'm hoping to convince him to join our little motley crew at the CBI so I'm introducing him to some of the team leaders. Special Agent Elliot, this is Agent Lisbon. She heads up the Serious Crimes Unit."

Lisbon turned to face the man in Hightower's office. To her surprise it was the same man with the dark eyes who'd caught her before she hit the ground that day at the pub by the sea. His eyes, the ones that she still remembered clearly, lit up when he grinned in recognition upon seeing who she was. "Very pleased to make your acquaintance," he replied. "I cursed myself more times than you know for not introducing myself that day at the pub. Please call me Bill."

Lisbon smirked before she could stop herself.

"Yeah, yeah, I know," he told her. "Billy Elliot. I've heard it before. I would prefer if you called me either Bill or Elliot though if you don't mind. That's what everyone else does."

"Alright," Lisbon told him with a grin. "You can call me Lisbon. Everyone else does."

He grinned back.

Hightower looked mildly confused. "I'm sorry have you two met before?" she asked.

"We ran into each other briefly a couple days ago," Elliot corrected. "Never actually met though."

"Guess it's time to remedy that," Lisbon told him with a grin.

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TBC

Okay, I admit that one may have been a wee bit evil.