A/N: Sorry for the delay of this chapter. I've been involved in end of school stuff, plus I was out of town a few days. But now summer is here, and I have more time to devote to my writing. I hope this chapter was worth the wait. Thanks for your patience!

Chapter 9

Over the next several days, Jessie Lynch became a regular fixture round the CBI HQ, and everyone loved her, of course. Grace, despite her own busy wedding planning, was happy to help Jessie with the party plans for the birthday boy, but LaRoche, normally a very private individual, was having a difficult time keeping his personal life personal. Jane took great delight in how LaRoche became increasingly uncomfortable with her presence, but he kept a comfortable distance from the whole situation, quietly observing and smiling to himself as he lay on his couch. He loved it when a plan came together.

Lisbon still shied away from him for the most part, although he often caught her looking his way, and he noted the longing in her eyes, along with the sadness. He wanted to tell her more about his secrets, but even the thought of sharing what he'd kept from her all these months made his stomach clench. She would be so furious with him, so hurt. He quite possibly would lose her forever. But he could be putting her in danger, which was what made him continue to keep mum. Besides, he had LaRoche to focus on, and with his attention now firmly on Jessie, Jane felt a weight lifted from his own shoulders. Everything was going as he'd predicted; all they needed now was a case to seal the deal. It came even sooner than he'd hoped.

Lisbon breezed in that afternoon, carrying a case file in her hands and waiting expectantly for her team to gather around the bullpen conference table. Jessie had left an hour before to supervise her restaurant's lunch rush.

"Kidnapping case," Lisbon said, passing the file to Cho. "Young daughter of a state senator. They're trying to avoid federal involvement, so if we act quickly, we can solve this thing and keep it a state incident." She glanced over at Jane's couch, where he still lay, seemingly asleep, but listening to every word. "Jane! Get your butt off that couch and come with us to the senator's house."

He gave a mock groan of annoyance, sat up and then stood, stretching. "Hold your water, woman. I'm coming."

She gave him a dirty look, to which he just grinned. Rigsby stifled an amused snicker.

"Let's go," Lisbon said irritably.

A few minutes later, and they were all loaded up in the SUV. Jane took out his cell phone, punched a few buttons, and sent the e-mail he'd been waiting for the opportune moment to send. He smiled to himself and put his phone back in his pocket.

"So, Lisbon," he said to their driver. "has there been a ransom demand?"

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Later that night, Jane and Lisbon sat in the SUV, staking out the ransom drop location from a good distance, while the rest of the team waited in the surrounding bushes of the park where the senator himself would hand over the briefcase of cash. Lisbon lowered her night vision binoculars from the open window and resolutely kept a cold shoulder toward Jane.

"We're supposed to be a couple making out in the park," he complained. "You want to blow our cover?"

"No, Jane, I just want to be prepared to pounce when the drop is made."

He reached out a hand and touched her arm. "Come here," he said softly, enticingly. She couldn't resist turning her head to glance down at his hand. He felt her shiver in reaction, but her eyes remained bland. She was a great actress, his Lisbon, but he knew for a fact she wasn't made of stone. His other hand rose to caress her cheek, and her eyes fell closed at his touch. He leaned uncomfortably across the middle console and brought his lips gently to hers. Her breath hitched—all the invitation he needed—and his tongue slid out to taste her.

"No…Jane…I'm supposed to be-"

But once she'd opened her mouth, he moved in for the kill and she moaned softly in surrender. Pretty soon they were doing a fair imitation of two Lover's Lane teenagers, their days without physical contact threatening to overwhelm them. That is, until the distant sound of Cho and Van Pelt's yelled warnings snapped Lisbon out of the sensual spell Jane had spun, and he found himself pushed unceremoniously back into his seat. Lisbon was out of the vehicle like a shot, and Jane sat back, breathing heavily; heavily aroused.

"Dammit," he muttered in frustration. More yells made him open his eyes and grab the discarded binoculars. Apparently the kidnapper had shown up, taken the briefcase, but had grabbed Senator Haskell and was holding a gun to the man's head. The CBI team members were warning him to drop the weapon, but the desperate man only wanted to get the hell out of there. Jane scanned the woods around the dimly lit scene, located Lisbon's stealthily approaching figure, along with several state police who had been hidden within the park, now encroaching upon the drop site.

A shot rang out and Jane jumped, then swung the binoculars back to the kidnapper, who was howling in pain at the bullet that had ripped into his gun toting arm. It had been a bold move—a dangerous one—but Rigsby emerged triumphantly as Cho tackled the injured man and Van Pelt pulled the senator away from the fray.

Jane jumped down from the SUV to join his team and assess the situation more closely.

"Good shot, Rigsby," Jane grinned.
"Thanks,"replied the lanky agent, appearing to be modest, but Jane knew he was bursting with pride at his lucky shot.

"Cho, get him back to HQ for questioning," Lisbon ordered.

"Right, Boss." The kidnapper was groaning in pain as Cho handcuffed him, and Van Pelt hastily applied a bandage to staunch the bleeding of the flesh wound.

Senator Haskell, breathing heavily, turned to Lisbon, the light of abject fear in his eyes. "Now what, Agent? My daughter is still out there. If she ends up dead—"

"Don't worry, Senator. Cho is my top interrogator. He'll have it out of him in no time." I hope, she added silently.

"He's probably working with one other person who's somewhere holding your daughter," Jane told the anxious father. "They won't kill her; she's still valuable to them, and they know they still have the upper hand here. I'm sure we'll be hearing from them soon. Oh, hey…Senator. Are you… bleeding?"

"Uh…" Haskell looked down at his chest, and with Jane's words, suddenly felt the twinge of pain making its way to his brain through all his excited endorphins. Rigsby's lucky shot apparently hadn't been completely lucky. The senator's eyes rolled back in his head and he abruptly collapsed.

"Shit!" exclaimed Lisbon, dropping down beside him. "Medic!"

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Where the hell is LaRoche?" CBI director Gale Betram cried back at HQ. With the senator's injury—albeit minor and not life threatening—and his daughter still in the hands of her kidnapper, this had taken on an entirely new urgency. His top agent in the Serious Crimes Unit should be there to help supervise this mess. If Cho couldn't get the girl's location out of their suspect, the Feds would have to be called and then the shit would really hit the fan. The last thing Betram wanted was more bad press for himself and the CBI.

"I've tried calling him several times, sir," Lisbon said calmly. "I've left messages, but he hasn't returned my calls."

Jane said nothing, turning his attention back to Cho's interrogation of their suspect, who sat in the room behind the one-way glass, his arm bandaged, anger oozing from every pore. As Cho turned on his best game face, no one noticed the slight twitch of Jane's lips as he overheard Betram's continued call for the suspiciously absent Agent J.J. LaRoche.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Jessie collapsed against the body of her naked lover, panting with her passionate release. LaRoche was puffing with his own ecstasy, and his hand came shakily up to smooth the redhead's curly hair from her flushed cheeks. He couldn't believe she was here with him, having sent him an e-mail out of the blue to meet him at the River Canyon Bed and Breakfast. It had simply stated that she wanted to be with him, to meet him in Room Eleven, to not speak a word, to only feel. When she'd opened the door to him, wearing nothing but a sexy red negligee, LaRoche, overcome with desire and love, said nothing, taking her in his arms and kissing her. They'd quickly ended up on the bed, and one thing had happily led to another.

"Oh God, John," she was whispering against his chest. "I've missed you so much. I love you."

"I love you too, Jess," he said through his tight throat, kissing the top of her head. He knew they had a new case, but he had every faith that Agent Lisbon could handle it. And frankly, nothing could have kept him from meeting Jessie, to reunite in every way with his lost love. It was totally unlike him to act so impulsively, but Jessie Lynch had always tended to addle his brain. He smiled and kissed her again. No matter the consequences, it had been totally worth it.

"When I got your e-mail," she was saying, "telling me to meet you here wearing something red and sexy, I couldn't believe you would do something so utterly romantic. I was so surprised—"

LaRoche stiffened, sitting up against the ornate headboard. "What e-mail?" he snapped.

As Jessie began to recite words he had never written, it became obvious that they had been victims of an elaborate set up, and LaRoche knew immediately who had orchestrated it.

"That son of a bitch!" he growled, reaching for his pants to pull out his cell phone. "Dammit!"

"What?" Jessie said cluelessly, shaken that her perfect encounter with the love of her life had suddenly, unaccountably made him extremely angry. He was looking at his phone in fury.

"John? What's wrong?"

"No reception. Of course! We're in a goddamn canyon!" He got out of bed and began dressing again, noting in additional rage that there was no telephone in the room. It was a love nest; there should be no need for phones when you're supposed to be wrapped in your lover's arms, just like they'd been only seconds before.

"I'm gonna kill him," LaRoche was muttering to himself.

Jessie reached for her satin robe, stilling her lover with her hands. She'd put two and two together and realized what had happened.

"Jane did this? The e-mails, this B and B?"

"Yes, that sneaky bastard. I'll have his head for this."

Tears sprang to her eyes as she looked at the man she loved, so angry after the beautiful time they had just shared. "Are you…sorry this happened?"

LaRoche realized at once how it all must seem to her now. He stopped imagining separating Jane's head from his body and focused on Jessie. She was so lovely, radiant even, in the afterglow. He reached for her hands and held them both to his lips.

"I'm sorry. Of course I don't regret this. That was—that was incredible. You know how much I've missed you, how much I love you."

"Then maybe you should be thinking about thanking Patrick, rather than killing him in horrible ways."

LaRoche allowed himself a small smile at her naiveté, her pure goodness. That's why he'd fallen in love with her in the first place, not just because of her luscious body and the amazing fact that she had fallen for him too.

"Okay," he admitted. "Part of me is grateful that he compelled me to do something I was too afraid to do on my own. But don't fool yourself into thinking this was some romantic, altruistic gesture on Jane's part. He's up to something, and he wanted me out of pocket so he could do something behind my back. For that, he's going to pay. I warned him not to interfere in my personal life." He let loose her hands and reached for his shirt. "And he'll definitely be paying for that, if it's the last thing I do."

She watched him silently as he continued putting on the tie she'd hastily removed not long before, then his socks, shoes, and suit coat.

"I'm sorry, Jessie," he was saying, returning his phone to his pants pocket. "I have to get back and see what mess Jane's left me."

"I know," she said. "But please…don't be too hard on Patrick. I have a feeling about him. He's a good man at heart; he's just been through something terrible, I can feel it. Maybe he doesn't know how to relate to people anymore."

LaRoche smiled again, then pulled Jessie back into his arms, kissing her passionately. "You're too good to be true, Jess," he whispered. "I'll call you later, okay?"

"Okay," she replied, eyes tear bright. "Please, John. Be careful."

"I will. I love you." He went to the door, taking in the vision of her, clad in red, sitting on the disarrayed bed. The fact that he had to leave her now added to the list of reasons to beat the living hell out of Patrick Jane. With deep regret, he closed the door behind him and headed back out of the inn.

A/N: In answer to some people's question: yes, I do want you to feel sorry for LaRoche, but at the same time, not too mad at Jane. After all, he is making LaRoche and Jessie happy, despite his ulterior motives. I hope you liked this chapter enough to leave a review. And also, please be on the lookout for my tag for tonight's episode. See you then!