A/N: Episode 2 is brought to you by half agony and hope – When the team is assigned a grisly homicide linked to a house fire, Lisbon returns from maternity leave and recruits Rigsby to consult. Meanwhile, Cho takes interest in the forensic anthropologist working the case, and Jane employs his usual hijinks to play matchmaker.

THE AMBER PENDANT

The shrill ring shattered the silence.

"Seriously?" groaned Jane, his voice muffled. "Between the baby and your cell phone, we're never going to sleep the whole night through."

Lisbon rolled over slightly, grabbing the phone with one hand and her pillow with the other. She flung the pillow, pleased to hear it make a satisfactory thump when it connected with the back of Jane's head. She accepted the call.

"Where are we headed, Cho?" she asked sleepily, and Jane groaned again beside her, rubbing his neck.

"Lakeway," came the gruff reply. It seemed even the ever-stoic Cho was not immune to being woken up at four in the morning.

Lisbon slipped out of the covers and walked over to the bathroom. "Text me the address. I'm on my way."

She turned on the light and made to hang up, but Cho stopped her.

"Lisbon," he said, and his voice made her pause. "This one…it's a kid, Lisbon."

Lisbon breathed in deeply, and her eyes flashed to her reflection in the mirror. "Thanks for the warning," she said quietly.

"Yeah," said Cho, and he disconnected. Lisbon put down the phone. Her reflection had turned ashen.

She took a couple of deep breaths to steady herself before reaching for her hairbrush. She ignored the way it shook in her hands.

A steady warmth appeared behind her, and she felt the weight of Jane's hands on her hips. He read her in a second, taking in her pallid complexion and trembling hands. Jane held his hand out for the brush.

She handed it over.

"What did Cho say?" Jane asked softly, and he began to gently pull the brush through her hair.

Lisbon waited until he was finished to answer. "It's a child," she whispered as he set the brush down, and Jane's body tensed against hers.

Ten seconds passed.

"I'm only a phone call away," Jane said finally. "If you want, I can send you pictures of Liam every hour."

"That might make it more difficult."

Their left hands twisted together, and her ring shimmered in the harsh light of the bathroom.

"All the same," said Jane, "I'm here."

She nodded, and the color began to return to her face. "I know."

The first rays of morning sunshine appeared as Lisbon slammed the car door. She took a deep breath to compose herself before taking a step forward.

"You alright?" said Wylie. The younger agent was still hoping to hone his skills outside of the office, and Lisbon had been glad when he'd offered to help out at the scene. Even with Cho and Tork—who'd decided to stick around the Austin field office a bit longer—the team still felt shorthanded.

Lisbon glanced at Wylie. "Yeah," she said. "It's just, you know, the first case back. I'll be fine."

"How's the little man doing?"

Lisbon smiled. "Liam's doing just fine," she said. "His father, on the other hand, is still weighing every possible pro and con about returning to work. And he's taken it upon himself to investigate all the daycare facilities in the area, despite the fact that the FBI has its own."

Wylie shrugged. "He wants the best for Liam. I guess I can see that, given his history."

"At any rate," Lisbon said, "Jane's still undecided. I imagine if he finds that he approves of one of the daycares, he'll come back, at least part time."

They began to walk towards the house.

Rather, they walked towards what was left of the house. Upon first glance it was immediately clear that a monstrous fire had decimated the structure—Lisbon and Wylie had seen the windswept ash down the road as they'd approached. What was left of the house had caved in. The roof was in pieces on the ground, and burnt beams lay sticking up in random directions like splintered bones. Judging by the sheer amount of debris, the house had been on the larger size—perhaps comparable to Jane's property in Malibu. Behind the wreckage and dense canopies of singed trees, however, Lisbon could make out a lake, and it seemed ironic that such a pristine landscape lay just beyond a broken one.

"Lisbon!"

She and Wylie turned their attention to Tork, who was waving at them from the side of the yard, beckoning them over.

"What's the story, Tork?" Lisbon asked as they approached. She glanced at Tork. The move to Austin had been good for him—he'd lost a few pounds and put on a tan. He also seemed more confident than Lisbon remembered. A lot had changed since she'd went on leave, it seemed.

Tork shrugged. "There isn't really one. Yet. Cho's frustrated—the forensic anthropologist doesn't seem to be of much help."

Lisbon glanced at Wylie, her eyes narrowed curiously. Wylie returned her look of surprise. It wasn't like Cho to show emotion—especially around other law enforcement professionals.

Tork led them around the side of the property and continued speaking. "Lakeway Fire Department left just before you got here. Apparently the house hadn't been lived in for years, and the closest neighbors on the lake live far enough away that they didn't notice the fire immediately. It really ran its course before it was called in."

As they turned the corner, a swarm of crime scene techs came into view, many documenting the scene either with flash photography or video recordings. Through the scorched beams of the back of the house, Lisbon could make out the set of Cho's shoulders. He was turned away from her, staring down at the ground, hands on his hips.

That posture didn't bode well, thought Lisbon. Tork raised his eyebrows at her as if to say, Good luck.

"You can't determine gender?" came Cho's voice, his tone dripping with incredulity. Lisbon noticed with a wince that he also sounded harsher than normal.

It had definitely not been a good morning for Cho.

"'Gender' refers to a social role," said a female voice. "The correct term here is 'sex', and no, I cannot determine it from the remains." Lisbon's eyes were drawn past Cho to the figure squatting beside him, clearly examining something on the ground. Lisbon hadn't met the forensic anthropologist yet, but the Latina woman had already made a name for herself at the FBI. A newly minted PhD, she had been eagerly snatched up by the government for consultant work as soon as she'd received her diploma.

The forensic anthropologist stood up and glared at Cho. Lisbon and Wylie approached the edge of the debris and stepped over the threshold of what had once been a door. Lisbon poked her head around a half-splinted beam and found herself face to face with a pair of dark chocolate eyes.

"You must be Agent Lisbon," said the woman to whom the eyes belonged. "And Agent Wylie. I'd shake your hands, but…" she trailed off, waving her hand to demonstrate that she was elbow deep in human remains.

Lisbon almost smiled. The woman couldn't be taller than five foot two, but clearly she—not Cho—was in charge of the crime scene.

Lisbon nodded at the other woman. "Nice to meet you."

"You as well," said the anthropologist. "I'm Anna Rosales, by the way."

"Alright, Dr. Rosales," said Lisbon. "What do we know so far?"

"Not a hell of a lot," mumbled Cho, tapping his pen against his notepad.

Rosales shrugged nonchalantly. "It's true," she said. "I can tell you the remains belonged to a young individual. Based on the state of the deciduous dentition, I'd give a rough estimate of six years old, give or take two years. I'm being cautious with the age range for right now—hopefully I can narrow that down when I get back to the lab and have a chance to do more than a cursory examination. Unfortunately, because the individual hasn't been through puberty, the skeleton hasn't yet manifested features indicative of male or female sex."

"Give or take two years?" said Cho in an irritated tone.

Rosales held his gaze patiently. "Modern human variation makes it difficult to narrow down the age any further—it's not as straightforward as they lead you to believe on TV. I don't feel comfortable giving you a tighter window than that yet."

Cho sighed. "Great. So we have a kid, four to eight years old, who may be male or female. No obvious cause of death. That narrows it down."

Wylie snorted. Lisbon shot him a look.

"I didn't say I couldn't tell you the sex," pointed out Rosales.

Cho looked at her in exasperation. "Actually, you did."

Rosales grinned. "Actually, I said I couldn't tell you the sex based on the remains. But the individual is female."

Lisbon looked at the remains for the first time, intrigued.

She pushed thoughts of baby Liam aside for the moment and concentrated on the child before her. The fire had burned away the flesh—all that was left were the charred bones.

And a pendant—still wrapped around the cervical vertebrae.

Lisbon bent down to get a closer look. She caught a whiff of a faint scent.

"Is that…is that pine?" she asked.

Rosales nodded. "Amber gives off a pine-like scent when it burns. So before the stone became distorted by the fire, it was amber."

Lisbon looked up at Rosales, considering. The pendant was clearly ornate—not something a six year old boy would be caught dead in.

"A girl, then," said Lisbon.

Rosales smiled. "And there you have it," she said.

Lisbon stood up. "Thank you, Dr. Rosales. Let us know if you find anything else, alright?"

"Of course, Agent Lisbon."

Lisbon carefully made her way out of the charred tangle of beams, Cho and Wylie on her tail. When Wylie headed off to talk to the FBI techs, Lisbon pulled Cho aside.

"What's the deal?" she said. "Levelheaded Cho suddenly loses his head? What's going on?"

Cho took a deep breath. "You're right. That was unprofessional. I need to go apologize."

Lisbon caught his arm as he made to move past her. "As your subordinate, I can't tell you what to do. As your friend…well, that would probably be a good idea."

Cho shook his head as if to clear it. "She just…she rattled me. I'm not used to feeling…rattled."

Lisbon looked at him curiously. "You sure that's it?" she asked. "You're…rattled? Not…something else?"

Cho looked at her like she'd started speaking Greek. "What else would it be?" he asked, brushing past her to head back to Rosales.

Lisbon watched as he began speaking to the petite woman again. Rosales smiled, and the corner of Cho's mouth twitched up.

"Yeah," said Lisbon, rolling her eyes. "What else would it be?"

Several hours later, Lisbon and Wylie had finished canvassing the houses on the perimeter of the lake.

"That was productive," said Wylie cheerily as they walked down the driveway of the last house. The sun was just beginning to sink, and Lisbon sighed as she unlocked the SUV and opened the driver's side door. Wylie climbed in opposite her.

"Really?" she asked, surprised. She looked over her shoulder to reverse out of the driveway, then put the car in drive to head down the road to lead them to the interstate.

Wylie shrugged. "Well, we can at least say that it's a waste of time to investigate any of these people further. Did any of them strike you as being capable of murder?"

Lisbon's brow furrowed. The old lady with seven cats had certainly seemed odd, but as Lisbon knew very well, odd didn't always equate with murderer. "I guess not," she said grudgingly. "I hope Cho had more luck tracking down the owner of the house. We really need a solid lead on this one."

As if on cue, her phone buzzed to signal an incoming call from Cho himself. Lisbon put him on speaker.

"Anything useful?" asked Cho without preamble.

"Wish I could say differently," said Lisbon. "But none of the neighbors saw anything unusual. Guess that's not terribly unexpected if the fire began sometime late last night—everyone would have already been asleep."

"Damn," said Cho. "Nothing on my end either. The house has been vacant for years. It was owned by a Timothy Kane before his wife died in '08, but Kane moved to Arizona after that. I tried to get in touch with him—only to find that he'd been killed in a car crash with a drunk driver soon after his wife died."

Wylie glanced at Lisbon. "Anything strange about the deaths?"

"Not that I can find," said Cho. "Margaux Kane died of breast cancer; the man who killed her husband in the crash is still in jail."

Lisbon pulled onto the interstate. "Who owns the house now?"

"Their son—someone named Erik Kane. But he has a solid alibi—he's studying materials science at Cambridge University in England. Hasn't been home in three years."

"Did you get to talk with him?" asked Lisbon.

"I called and left a message—by the time I tracked him down, the time difference would have meant it was midnight his time. I didn't give any details but told him we'd keep trying to reach him."

Wylie looked hopeful. "He might know something then."

"Maybe," said Cho. "Tork is working with the crime scene techs—he should be emailing you photographs and videos of the scene. He's also been looking through missing persons records from the last couple years to see if he can figure out who the victim is. Hasn't found anything yet." Lisbon heard Cho take a deep breath. "Listen, guys, don't bother coming back to the office—it's been a long day. Just take a look at the stuff Tork sends when you get home."

"You got it, Cho," said Lisbon. "Any news from Rosales yet?"

"She's been examining the remains all day. I'm going to see her to get an update in the morning. How about you and Wylie meet me at autopsy tomorrow, alright?"

"See you there," Lisbon confirmed, disconnecting the call.

Silence enveloped them for a minute, then Wylie glanced at her. "You mind if I turn on the radio?"

Lisbon smiled in spite of herself. She could picture Wylie being a closet country fan. "Go for it," she said.

Wylie scanned for a while before landing on a popular music station based in Austin. The last notes of the newest Sam Smith song echoed through the car. "Darn—we missed it. That song is my jam!"

Lisbon had to laugh. "You know, I really missed you, Wylie. It's…it's good to be back."

Wylie grinned at her, and her heart melted a little at how easy it was to please him. "I'm glad you're back, Lisbon. Things just weren't the same."

"It's been a crazy year," Lisbon said without thinking. When she realized what she'd inadvertently referred to, she looked over at the young agent. "Speaking of which, how are you doing?"

Wylie wrung his hands and took his time in answering. "For the most part…good," he said. "There were a few weeks…you know, right after…after Michelle died. That was the worst. But, um, actually—Jane reached out to me. Talking to him really helped."

Lisbon checked her blind spot before pulling out to pass a slow-moving truck. "He talked with you?" she asked, somewhat surprised. It was difficult for Jane to talk about his past—even with her. "Sorry," she amended. "That's really personal. I shouldn't have asked."

Wylie shook his head. "No, really, it's okay. It was really good advice—basically he just told me to live in the present. To grieve for her but not be consumed by her. He said living like that—living with her ghost—wasn't really living at all."

Lisbon glanced over at Wylie, surprised by how composed he appeared. "You seem…good, Wylie."

"It's a process," he admitted. "But Jane's advice really helped."

Lisbon nodded and gave him a soft smile. "I'm glad," she said. "I only wish Jane had had someone to tell him the same thing."

After Lisbon dropped Wylie off, she turned onto the dirt road leading to her renovated cabin. As she pulled up to the house, her phone went off, signaling the email she'd been expecting from Tork. She turned the car off and spared a glance toward the cabin—where light streaming from the windows stood in stark contrast to the looming dusk—before checking the message.

As she swiped through the photos, she couldn't help feeling like they were a bit useless. Everything about the scene, after all, looked very much the same—all black, all burnt. She sighed. She wasn't going to get anything out of these photos, especially if the FBI techs hadn't already.

But she knew someone who could.

She hit the fourth number on her speed dial and unbuckled her seat belt.

He picked up on the second ring.

"Lisbon!" came Rigsby's voice. "How are you? And how's Liam?"

Lisbon smiled. "We're all good. Liam, it seems, only wants to sleep during the day—but you know all about that, huh?"

Rigsby chuckled. "Do I ever. So you're back at work then? How's your first case going?"

Lisbon ran a hand through her hair. "Well, I was wondering if you could help us out."

"You got an arson case?" From his tone, it was obvious that he was intrigued.

"Probably," she admitted. "Though as you know, arson's near impossible to prove."

"Do you have something I could look at?"

"A lot of stuff, actually," she said. "Loads of pictures and videos—and one of the new techs had the idea of combining all the photos to reconstruct the scene. Tork says the tech is working on a 3D reconstruction, but that might take a while. I can send you the pictures and videos now, though."

"Yeah, I'll have a look at them tonight. This will be great—Grace and I have been working a lot of cyber stuff recently, so I've got to find a way to keep my arson background up to date."

There was a loud crash on Rigsby's end. He swore loudly. "Sorry, Lisbon—got to go. Duty calls."

"Thanks, Rigsby. I owe you."

"No worries, Boss."

Rigsby hung up, and Lisbon realized belatedly what he had called her. She felt a pang of nostalgia for their days at the CBI.

Then she looked up at the cabin and saw Jane walk by the window, holding what looked to be a sleeping Liam in his arms. She smiled.

Some days she missed her past life.

But she wouldn't trade where she was now for anything.

Lisbon opened the door to the cabin and was immediately enveloped in a strong pair of arms.

"Well, hello to you, too," she said, wrapping her arms around his torso.

"I missed you," Jane murmured into her hair.

"I love you," she whispered back.

Jane pulled away but rested his hands on her elbows. He stared at her. "Are you alright?"

She nodded. "Yeah. These types of cases are always difficult."

"And even more so now, I would imagine."

She nodded again.

"I just put Liam down," said Jane, "and I have about five more minutes' worth of prep for dinner…"

She kissed him on the cheek. "I'll be right back."

And she stepped to the side to peek into the nursery, closing the door behind her. She tiptoed to the crib and leaned over it, smiling.

"Hi, sweetie," she cooed, the words almost silent.

Liam stirred in his sleep, turning over and rolling into the moonlight streaming across his bed.

"Were you good for Daddy today?" she whispered. "Or did you give him a taste of his own medicine? I almost hope it was the latter."

Though her arms ached to hold him, Lisbon knew better than to rouse the baby. It would take hours to get him back to sleep. Instead, she kissed her fingertips and touched them lightly to the crown of his head.

"Love you, Liam," she whispered, and she crept out of the room.

"It was weird not seeing you at work today."

"It was weird not being there."

Lisbon smiled and turned over to look at her husband. She could just make out his outline in the dark. "You know what else is weird?" she asked, squashing her pillow into a more comfortable position.

Jane raised a tired eyebrow at her.

"I think Cho and the forensic anthropologist hit it off today."

"Really," said Jane, and he turned toward her. "Do tell."

"He was flustered when he was talking to her."

Jane smirked. "Cho doesn't get flustered."

"He does around Anna Rosales."

There was a beat, and then Jane spoke again. "Huh," he said. "Interesting."

Lisbon narrowed her eyes. "I know that tone. What are you planning?"

"Me? A plan?" he asked, the picture of innocence. "Why, Lisbon, whatever would make you think so ill of me?"

"Oh, please," she said.

Jane chuckled. "Okay, I'll admit to the planning. And the scheming. But admit it—you missed it. And me."

Lisbon kissed him softly and then sank back down onto her pillow.

"Yes," she said. "I did."

"You're kidding me."

"I am not."

Lisbon stood with her hands on her hips. "Tell me you're kidding," she said, as Jane emerged from the bedroom holding Liam. Lisbon immediately noticed the return of Jane's signature three-piece suit.

"Can't do that, Lisbon, because I'd be lying."

"You can't come into work, Jane! Who's going to watch Liam? You haven't enrolled him in daycare yet!"

There was a knock on the door, and Lisbon rolled her eyes. "You really do have a plan for everything, don't you?"

She opened the door to find Wylie holding a stuffed duck.

"Hi Wylie," Lisbon said. "What did Jane say to convince you to watch our bundle of joy for the day?"

"He didn't have to say much," said Wylie. "I love hanging out with the little man. Plus, I found Ducky the other day while shopping for my niece's birthday, and I couldn't wait to give him to Liam."

"Ducky," Lisbon muttered under her breath, stepping aside to let Wylie pass her. "Jane, did you clear this with Cho?"

Jane nodded. "He says he doesn't care who's doing the work as long as it gets done." He handed Liam to Wylie, who made a face at the baby and showed him the stuffed duck.

Liam cackled and reached for the toy.

Lisbon rolled her eyes but leaned in to kiss Liam. "Thank you, Wylie," she said sincerely as she pulled away.

"No problem," he said.

Jane stopped to wave at Liam, and Lisbon felt her heart expand. Then suddenly, Jane was ushering her out the door, his hand at her lower back.

"It'll be just like old times, huh?" he said, grinning.

She had to smile in spite of herself. "That's what I'm afraid of."

The forensic science division of the Austin FBI field office had grown considerably in the past few years, necessitating a move across town for a building with more space. Autopsy was in the basement, and Jane looked around at the dreary, hospital-like walls and shuddered.

"Can you imagine working like this every day? Staring death in the face?"

Lisbon shrugged. "It's not so different from what we do," she pointed out.

Jane conceded this and slowed down as his gaze fell on something. Lisbon stopped as well, her eyes moving further down the hall to find out what had caught his attention.

"Ah," he said, smiling. "You were right, Lisbon. Love is in the air."

Sure enough, Cho—looking more intense than usual—was already chatting with Rosales in her office. They appeared to be bickering over something. Lisbon didn't take this as a good sign. Jane, however, did.

"Do they remind you of anyone?" he asked, his expression thoughtful.

Lisbon stared at him blankly. "Um…no?"

Jane sighed. "Don't they remind you of us? You know, at the beginning? When all we did was tease each other and argue?"

Lisbon turned her attention back to Rosales and Cho. The forensic anthropologist stood up from her chair to make a point, a smug expression on her face. Cho remained stoic. And suddenly, it clicked for Lisbon. Rosales, with her confidence and dazzling smile, was every bit as charming as Jane had been when Lisbon had first met him. And Cho, in his intensity, was reminiscent of herself several years ago.

"I don't see it," said Lisbon, deadpan, just to vex Jane. "But they are kind of cute together, I admit."

"Exactly," said Jane, and he headed off down the hall.

"Wait," hissed Lisbon, running to catch up. "Jane! What are you planning? Jane!"

They entered the office at the same time, and it took Cho and Rosales a few seconds to notice that company had arrived. Jane cleared his throat, and Cho's head snapped over in his direction.

"Dr. Rosales, this is Patrick Jane," said Cho, taking a step back from the anthropologist. "Jane, Dr. Rosales is the forensic anthropologist who's consulting on the case."

Rosales held out her hand, and Jane shook it enthusiastically. "Enchanted," said Jane.

"You're Patrick Jane?" asked Rosales.

"Guilty."

"There are stories floating around about you, you know," she said, raising one eyebrow.

Jane grinned. Lisbon rolled her eyes. The idiot was actually flattered.

"What kind of stories?" asked Jane eagerly.

Rosales smiled but refrained from answering, instead choosing to pull out a couple of photographs.

"I didn't find much on the skeleton in my examination," she said. "Macromorphologically, there was nothing abnormal about it—besides the fact that it was burned—and devoid of flesh, of course."

"'Macromorphologically'?" asked Lisbon.

"Big picture," explained Rosales. "Meaning I didn't find any major fractures, and at first glance the bones appeared non-pathological. However, I also took some samples for analysis at the microscopic level." She pointed at the pictures. "These are micrographs of bone tissue, and these bullseye-like formations are osteons, which are a main component of bone tissue. What's interesting about these osteons is that many of them have microstructural cracks."

Lisbon looked up. "The bone has micro-cracks?"

"At the histological level, yes," said Rosales. "They're too small to have been seen on my cursory examination at the scene. I typically see cracks like this when remains have been frozen."

Lisbon's brow furrowed. "So she was frozen and then set on fire?"

Rosales looked at her with steely eyes. "It would appear so."

"Explains why Tork couldn't find anything in missing persons," Cho said.

Jane caught on. "The body could have been frozen for years," he said. "Meaning the child probably didn't go missing last night. You're going to have to look at a wider time range for missing person cases."

"We're on it," said Lisbon, grabbing Jane by arm and dragging him from the office. "Thanks for your help, Dr. Rosales."

Jane sputtered at her as she pulled him down the hall. "Lisbon!" he said. "I didn't even get a chance!"

Lisbon gripped his arm tighter, afraid he'd run back if she let go. "A chance to do what, Jane? Play matchmaker? Don't think I haven't figured out your plan."

Jane let her lead him up the stairs and out the front door of the forensics headquarters. "Come on, Lisbon, everyone with eyes can see that Cho needs some assistance in this department."

Lisbon laughed. "And you're the best person to help him with that? You were celibate for ten years! Talk about the blind leading the blind."

"You wound me, Lisbon," said Jane, feigning a hurt look as he climbed into the SUV on the passenger side. Lisbon slammed the driver's side door and buckled her seat belt.

"Cho won't want you to interfere," she said pointedly.

"Just you wait, Lisbon. They're going to end up married, and when they do…I will magnanimously refrain from telling you 'I told you so'."

"Oh, brother," said Lisbon, and she pulled out of the parking lot.

Back at the office, Lisbon joined Tork in expanding the search for a missing person case to match the details of the body they'd found.

Jane returned to his couch.

Within a half hour, they'd found two missing person cases in the past thirty years which seemed to fit. Lisbon looked at Tork. "I'll call one set of parents—you got the other?"

"Yeah," he said. "Ask about the pendant?"

Lisbon nodded. "If one set of parents recognizes it, then we've identified our girl."

The middle-aged woman who spoke with Tork ended up positively identifying the pendant. Lori Thompson had given her daughter, Amber, a pendant for her sixth birthday. Amber had fallen in love with the pendant because the stone had the same name she did—and because a fossilized butterfly had been enclosed inside it.

Amber's parents had filed a missing person report in 1979, about four months after her last birthday. They'd heard nothing about their daughter's whereabouts since.

The parents, now in their sixties, stopped by the FBI headquarters that afternoon.

Lisbon made to stand up to go greet them, but Cho put an hand on her shoulder. "I got this," he said.

Lisbon nodded, grateful. She went to go sit beside Jane on his couch. "I don't think I could have done it," she said when Cho had shut the door to his office.

Jane took a sip of tea and then put the cup on her desk. "Done what?" he asked.

She shrugged helplessly. "I don't think I could have told them their daughter was dead. Their girl…" she stopped, getting a hold of herself. "My job seems to be getting harder."

He took her hand. "Maybe you're just getting softer," he said quietly.

She gave him a sharp look.

He rubbed his thumb over the back of her hand. "It's a good thing," he said. "I promise."

She nodded. "I hope."

The Thompsons, it turned out, seemed to be mostly unhelpful. Their memories didn't appear to be anywhere near perfect, and the passing of more than thirty years' worth of time certainly hadn't helped.

Cho sighed as the doors to the elevator closed, carrying Mr. and Mrs. Thompson out of the bullpen. He walked over to Lisbon's desk.

"Anything?" he asked.

"Jane and I were brainstorming, and we realized that someone would have had to hide that body for thirty years—which would mean they would've needed a large freezer. I know it's a long shot, but we're looking into storage facilities. Since Lakeway is pretty small, there's only two. Tork headed over to check both of them out—he's going to ask and see if any of the units have suddenly stopped being paid for after thirty plus years."

Cho nodded. "Good. Let me know if that pans out."

"Will do," said Lisbon. "Oh, and I managed to get a hold of Erik Kane. I told him about the house."

"How'd he take it?"

Lisbon shrugged. "Pretty well. I mean, the guy is studying at Cambridge, so he probably has no desire to return to Texas. And now he can cash in on the insurance money."

Cho leaned against Lisbon's desk. "Can you do me a favor and look at Amber Thompson's medical records?"

Lisbon looked up at him. "I can call the hospital and have them sent over."

"That'd be great. The parents said Amber was diabetic—they remembered being worried when she disappeared that whoever had her wouldn't know what to do if her blood sugar dropped."

"What are you expecting to find in the records?" said Lisbon, already dialing the hospital's number on her phone.

Cho shrugged. "Anything. Nothing. I'm not sure."

He walked away.

Lisbon was looking over Amber Thompson's medical file when her phone rang.

She swiped at the cell. "Rigsby—hi," she said.

"Sorry, Lisbon, I've got to make this quick," Rigsby said. "I'm in the middle of a case—a security breach that Grace and I are looking into. Anyway," he continued. "I looked over the photos you sent me—it certainly looks like arson to me. There's a bunch of small details—easily overlooked if you don't have experience in arson. However, your FBI techs might not agree with me because—well, like you said—arson is notoriously difficult to prove. I'll write up the findings and send you a report with all the details," he added. "But it would really help your case if you could prove the death occurred before the fire. Then it looks like someone set the fire to hide evidence."

"Yeah, that's what we're working on now. Thanks Rigsby. This is helpful—always good to have you on board."

"Thanks, Lisbon. I'll talk with you and Jane soon, alright? Grace says hi."

"Tell her and the kids hello for us," said Lisbon.

"Will do. Take care."

As Lisbon was hanging up, the elevator dinged. Tork walked out, leading a disgruntled-looking, dark-haired man in handcuffs. Lisbon stood up, following them with Amber's medical file still in hand.

Tork deposited the man in the interrogation room and then joined Lisbon on the outside. As he shut the door, Cho and Jane walked over.

"So I checked out the two storage facilities in Lakeway," said Tork. "First one was a waste of time, but the manager at the second one was unbelievably helpful. Didn't even ask for a warrant—probably wanted his clients to take the blame rather than himself. Anyway, he said there was a unit that hadn't been paid for recently—and this particular unit had had a history of timely payments for over thirty years. So I opened the unit, and guess what's inside?"

"I don't need to guess," said Jane. "So he rents the unit?" He motioned with his hand to the man sitting in the interrogation room.

Tork nodded. "Yeah. This guy—name is Wolff, by the way—paid cash every month for the unit. But Wolff is claiming that he never knew what was in the unit—apparently, someone has been paying him to store stuff in his unit. Wolff also claims he was getting a substantial bonus for the trouble he goes through. I wanted to put him through the lie detector test."

Jane grinned. "You mean me?"

"The one and only."

Cho gestured for Jane to enter interrogation. Tork followed him inside.

Lisbon and Cho walked around to observation.

Wolff was short—probably only about five foot five inches—and Jane seemed to tower over him even when both were seated. Jane leaned back in his seat and folded his arms across his chest. Wolff began to twitch nervously.

"He didn't do it," said Jane suddenly.

"What, already?" said Tork. "You didn't even ask him a question!"

Jane turned to face the observation glass. Even though he couldn't know where Lisbon was, he looked right at her. "This guy is not composed enough to knowingly get involved in this type of business and be able to hide it. He's telling the truth. You can let him go."

Cho sighed.

Tork made to stand up.

"Hold on," said Lisbon, her eyes suddenly glued to the file she was holding.

Cho glanced at her. Then he tapped on the glass. Jane left Tork to watch over Wolff and appeared at Lisbon's shoulder a few seconds later.

"What did you find?" he asked.

Lisbon looked up at Jane. "Amber almost died from diabetic shock right after her sixth birthday."

Jane looked at her curiously. "When was she diagnosed as diabetic?"

"When she was four."

Jane's eyes widened slightly. "She had a history of diabetic emergencies, didn't she?"

Lisbon just nodded, her voice gone. She showed him the medical file.

Cho ran a hand through his hair. "Her parents never learned how to manage her condition," he breathed.

"She died from diabetic shock," said Jane in agreement, "and her parents hid the body to keep themselves from being charged with neglect."

Cho stepped out of observation and headed to his office. He returned a minute later with two files and stepped back into interrogation. He opened the files and passed them to Wolff, who stared down at the pictures in front of him.

"Do you recognize these people?"

Wolff looked at the photos. "The woman—no. But the man…he was the one who paid me the cash."

"Damn it," swore Lisbon, and the medical file slipped from her fingers onto the floor.

Jane reached out to grab her elbow.

"How could the hospital not report what was going on? All those doctors and nurses…they had to have known. And child services? No one saw? No one…"

"I know," said Jane grimly. "I know."

She grabbed his hand and threaded their fingers together. He squeezed her hand tightly. Gathering her composure once more, Lisbon dropped his hand, took a deep breath and reached down to grab the dropped file. She straightened up and stepped towards the door, her shoulders set.

"Ever my Lisbon," Jane said behind her. "Every day I discover new dimensions of your strength."

She turned around and smiled at him weakly, not trusting herself to speak.

"You're such a great mom, you know that?"

She turned away, her eyes misting over again.

Two hours later, the Thompson's were in custody. Both had confirmed what Jane, Lisbon, and Cho had surmised—Amber had died of diabetic shock. The Thompson's hadn't been vigilant in monitoring their daughter's condition, and at only six years old, Amber had not been able to manage it herself. The father, Greg, had been in and out of Gambler's Anonymous meetings for the past forty years. Lori had struggled with depression. Both parents hadn't been capable of raising a daughter, let alone a daughter with diabetes.

It was a fellow member of Gambler's Anonymous who'd recommended hiding the body when Greg had called him in a panic. Greg's GA buddy had also suggested contacting Wolff, who'd agreed to pay for the unit—albeit without knowing what it was for.

As the Thompson's were being escorted out of the building in handcuffs, Lisbon found Jane in the break-room, sipping a cup of tea and staring pensively at the wall.

"Hey," she said, stepping into the room.

He looked up and gave her a half smile.

"This case was rough," she said softly. "Even considering the cases we normally work."

He nodded.

She held his gaze. "You're not coming back to work, are you?" she asked. "With this case turning out how it did—I can see you wanting to walk away from all this for good."

Jane set down his cup. "No," he said firmly after a few seconds. "I am most definitely coming back. In fact, I've already made arrangements for Liam at the FBI's daycare center next time we need someone to watch him."

Lisbon blinked at him. "Really?"

Jane nodded again. "You and me—this is what we do. We catch the bad guys. We make them pay for what they've done." He took a step towards her. "I want to keep doing that. Especially after the case we've just had. People like Amber—they need someone to speak for them. And we do that. We give them back their voices."

Lisbon closed the distance between them and stretched up on her tiptoes to give him a quick kiss on the cheek.

"I would have supported you with either decision," she said slowly, pulling back to look at him. "But I'm really, really glad you want to come back. After all, this is what we do. It's who we are. And I love who we are."

He smiled again at her—this time a real, full smile—and she couldn't help but return it.

Later that evening, the team was finishing up paperwork when Jane suggested ordering case closed pizza, and they congregated in the bullpen when the delivery arrived. Wylie brought Liam—and Ducky—along, and the team debriefed him on how the case had been tied up.

Wylie swallowed a bite of sausage. "But why now?" he asked. "The parents could've kept paying the money for the storage unit, and they would have gotten away with it."

"Greg Thompson was a gambler," said Lisbon, sitting next to Jane on the couch and watching him rock Liam in his arms. "He had just lost a major bet—they couldn't afford to keep paying Wolff. And they lived a couple miles from the house on the lake—Lori passed it every day on her way into work, so she knew no one was living there. They dumped the body there and tried to burn the place up so that there'd be no evidence."

"And they almost succeeded," said a voice. Lisbon looked up to see Rosales standing by the elevator.

"Dr. Rosales," she said, smiling. "We couldn't have closed the case without you."

Rosales smiled and gestured to her phone. "Mr. Jane invited me for case closed pizza. He claims it's a tradition—and I admit, pepperoni is a weakness of mine."

Lisbon glared at Jane, who was grinning broadly. "Stop meddling," she mouthed.

"Meh," he said quietly.

Cho handed Rosales a plate and offered her his chair. She grabbed a couple of slices before accepting the seat, and she turned her body to face him, smiling slightly as she did.

Jane raised an eyebrow at Lisbon.

Lisbon swatted his shoulder. "You're incorrigible," she said.

He grinned at her. "But you married me anyway."

She leaned her shoulder against his and looked down at Liam. She closed her eyes for a second and focused on Jane's deep breathing beside her.

"I'm glad I did," she whispered.

FIN

A/N: Next up is Kaleidoscope.