For some of you, this might be a re-post. I posted ch. 5 last night, got a few reviews, then the chapter had disappeared (like a ghost, lol) this morning. Sorry for any inconvenience. This site is very temperamental sometimes...
A/N: Okay, so I'm succumbing to peer pressure! I had intended only to gloss over the jogging scene, but so many of you great readers expressed excitement about it that I went ahead and wrote the scene. Then, some of you seemed very disappointed that I only had one or two chapters planned for this fic. Well, I think I can squeeze out one additional chapter, so I expanded the case in the story, added the jogging scene and one or two more that I thought you might enjoy. So here it is, sort of a bonus chapter that I hadn't planned on writing. So glad you guys didn't tell me to start having wild parties or wear jeggings, (and believe me, that wouldn't have been pretty) because obviously I can't resist your demands, lol. Thanks for all your great suggestions!
Chapter 5
"Patrick, it's past time to wake up."
"Hmph?" mumbled Jane grumpily, rolling over onto his stomach and burying his face in the pillow. Angela's ghost shook her head in amusement. When had he become such a bear in the mornings?
"Patrick…Teresa will be here in about fifteen minutes."
That did it. He sat upright immediately, instantly wide-eyed, pajamas twisted and unbuttoned around his body. For a moment, Angela Jane allowed herself to wish for what could never be again. Oh, what she wouldn't give to be able to touch him, to climb in and share the warmth of his bed once more. But her life was over, she thought wistfully, and she was here to help him to be happy without her in what remained of his.
Jane glanced at Angela, standing beside his bed, and managed a sleepy smile. "This is the nicest wakeup call I've had in years," he said softly. She sensed how much he still loved her, and realized that wouldn't do. Pining for what was lost was precisely what she wanted him to stop doing.
"Up and at 'em," she insisted, tapping meaningfully at her wrist.
"Why is it that I tend to surround myself with bossy women," he groused, making his way to the bathroom. Five minutes later he re-emerged, having doused his face with cold water, brushed his teeth, and run a comb carelessly through his hair.
"Angela?" he called to the empty motel room.
But she was gone again.
He went into the back of his closet where he found a cardboard box. He lifted the lid and rooted through its contents, pulling out a pair of grey sweatpants. From his closet floor he found the seldom-used sneakers, and hanging on a hanger was the matching grey zippered sweatshirt. He donned a blue t-shirt and socks to finish the outfit, pleased that everything still fit, if perhaps a little more snuggly than he'd like. Well, that was about to change, if Angela and Teresa had anything to say about it.
When the knock came on his door at precisely six o'clock, Jane opened it, smiling at Lisbon from ear-to-ear. She stood outside with a smile of her own, sporty in her own black running ensemble, hair in a smooth ponytail. Her eyes roved up and down his figure, and Jane held still so she could get the full effect of seeing him in something other than one of his stuffy suits. Despite the fact that they both knew he was a bit out of shape, Lisbon had to admit that there was still something extremely sexy about Jane in sportswear. It oddly suited him. At the hint of color that stained her cheeks from her wayward thoughts, Jane himself grew a little warm. He cleared his throat.
"Are you ready?" he asked.
"The question is, Jane," she replied, grinning mischievously, "are you ready?"
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
She'd been partly running backwards, facing Jane as he huffed and puffed after barely a mile of jogging. "Come on, old man," she jeered. "Pick it up a little."
Jane stopped abruptly, bending forward, hands on his knees. "What are you…trying…to do…kill…me?" he panted.
She jogged over to him, not even out of breath. "It's worse than I thought. I figured I'd at least get two miles out of you before you gave up and started complaining."
He shot her a dirty look, then caught a glimpse of Angela, sitting on a nearby park bench, grinning at his plight.
"You asked for this," said the ghost.
"Why do I feel like I joined the Army," Jane said, his comment easily aimed at both women.
Lisbon ignored him. "Hey, you make it two miles, and I'll buy you breakfast."
Jane's eyes lit up at that. "Eggs?"
"Sure," she said, jogging in place lest her heart rate decline. "An egg white omelet."
He looked at her in horror. "The yolk and the white were meant to be together, Lisbon. I won't be the one to tear them apart."
Lisbon laughed. "Okay, one over easy, if you'll have whole wheat toast, and no muffins."
"Two over easy, and you've got yourself a deal."
"Two eggs, wheat toast, and a side of fruit."
"You drive a hard bargain, Lisbon," he said, trying hard not to grin. She nodded triumphantly and set off ahead without him.
"See you in a mile," she called, her ponytail swishing back and forth as she ran out of sight around a tree-lined corner.
Jane straightened his back and began walking just under jogging speed.
"You're cheating," said Angela.
"I won't tell if you won't. Besides, I didn't say I would jog all that way."
Angela tsked in mock disappointment. "Once a conman, always a conman…"
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Lisbon pulled her Mustang into the parking lot of Jane's motel. The color was high in his cheeks from exertion, fresh air, and a relatively healthy breakfast.
"Well," she said cheerfully, "see you at the office. I'm proud of you, by the way, even though you did cheat and walk most of that second mile."
"What?" he said innocently. "Why, Lisbon, I'm utterly offended by that remark. Had I done that, I'd only be cheating myself."
She smirked. "Yeah, sure; but you also love eggs, especially when they're free."
His eyes sparkled wickedly at her, and she knew he wasn't the least bit abashed by his behavior.
"True."
They sat a quiet moment in the car while the motor ran, strangely reluctant to part, even though they'd be seeing each other in another hour. Their exercise along the river had felt somehow more personal, despite the fact they'd been apart for most of their jog. Their eyes met, and Jane leaned over to plant a kiss just to the right of her mouth. Her eyelids fluttered closed, and she gave a little gasp as his lips caressed her cheek just a little longer than a friendly peck.
"Thanks, Lisbon," he whispered, leaning back slightly to see her reaction. He himself was shaking on the inside, and he knew his eyes had darkened in compliment to hers.
"You're uh, welcome," she said absently. Then her green eyes turned hopeful. "Shall we do this again, same time tomorrow?"
"Okay," he said, his voice a little hoarse with emotion. "But I'll buy breakfast next time."
"Deal," she said, and he exited the car, feeling her eyes on him all the way up the outside stairs to his room.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Angela listened in the bathroom while Jane took a shower. She was about to ask if he'd had a good time with Lisbon on his jog, maybe give him a few more good-natured digs, when, softly at first, he began to hum a familiar tune.
Either there had been another earthquake, or Jane had apparently felt the earth move under his feet again. It must have had something to do with that kiss he'd given Teresa in the car, she thought. She decided not to interrupt him as his humming reached an ear-shattering crescendo.
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxx
"Coroner's and CSU reports came back on our victim," Cho said to Lisbon later that morning. He presented her with the file.
"Thanks." Lisbon opened the file and saw that their Jane Doe was in fact Jamie Young.
"She died of internal hemorrhaging as a result of five stab wounds from a blunt object to her chest and abdomen." Lisbon shook her head sadly to herself and thumbed through the other papers. "And… she had a rap sheet," Lisbon said in surprise.
"Yeah. Check fraud. Shoplifting. Trespassing."
"Hmm. Some of the bloody fingerprints found in the vehicle were neither Toby McCoy's nor Jamie Young's." She looked up from the file as Jane strolled in, his hair still curling damply from his recent shower. He was in one of his usual suits, but she found she missed the way his sweatpants had cupped his well-shaped behind. Nothing needs to be fixed there, she mused.
Jane paused at her expression, and when she met his eyes, it was as if he'd read her mind, and she flushed to the roots of her hair. Jane gave her a slow, knowing smile, while the rest of the team looked curiously from their boss to the consultant.
"So, Toby might not have been our killer," Jane said, having heard Lisbon's last statement as he'd entered the bullpen.
"Disproves your whole shoe theory," said Rigsby from his desk.
"Haven't you learned by now to have patience, Wayne," said Jane with a hint of amused condescension. He turned to Lisbon. "I think you should bring in his parents for more questioning."
"You think one of them did it?" asked Grace.
"I'll know better when I've spoken to them again. What do you say, Lisbon?"
She considered his request a moment. "Okay, Cho, you and Rigsby go bring in the McCoy's."
Cho nodded, reaching for his suit jacket.
"Will do, Boss," said Rigsby, already formulating a wager to run by Cho.
Jane turned to Lisbon. "Now, maybe we'll be able to find the real McCoy."
"You've been waiting since yesterday to say that, haven't you?" she said in amusement.
"If the shoe fits, Lisbon…" His eyes twinkled with mirth.
She gave an audible groan at his sad puns and headed for the peace and quiet of her office.
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxx
"Do you want this case thrown out," Lisbon whispered angrily. She'd gone into the interrogation room where she'd been watching Jane question Robert McCoy, and grabbed Jane's arm, pulling him roughly out into the hallway.
"You were attempting to hypnotize him. If I've told you once—"
"Yes, and it's getting more and more tiresome every time you tell me. I wasn't hypnotizing him, exactly, just helping him get to a relaxed state where he would be more likely to spill his guts out."
"Same thing," she snapped.
"Look, obviously he helped his son cover up the murder, and you're letting him get away with it."
"We have his bloody fingerprints in the car; that's enough for an arrest."
"Yeah, but wouldn't a confession tie things up in a nice, neat, unimpeachable bow?"
"Which you're about to ruin with your mind control techniques."
Her breathing had become more audible, her cheeks rosy red, and her eyes blazed green with annoyance.
"You're beautiful when you're angry," he said, the words slipping out before he could help himself. He reached out and brushed a stray lock of hair from her face and she froze, unable suddenly to move or speak.
He shrugged and gave her his most charming grin. "Look, I'm sorry I upset you. I'll go back in there and—"
"No, you won't," she said, finding her voice. "I'm sending Cho. You—go get some tea or something." She waved her hand at him dismissively.
"You're kicking me out?"
"You didn't get that when I dragged you out of the room?"
"Fine," he huffed. "But don't blame me when he gets off because of circumstantial evidence."
"I won't," she said, her voice clipped.
He grinned as she headed toward the bullpen and Cho. She was beautiful when she was angry. Why hadn't he ever noticed that before?
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Cho was able to get Robert McCoy to confess to helping Toby dispose of the body, and Rigsby reluctantly passed him a twenty.
Jane looked up from his position on the couch, where he'd been sitting trying to read and not concentrate on his aching legs. Angela had been making that even more difficult, since she'd been sitting beside him the last few minutes, reading over his shoulder.
"Since when did you start reading eighteenth century English poetry?" she asked him.
"Since I found out Red John did," he muttered softly, hoping he'd be drowned out by the office noise around him.
"You're not going to rest until you find him, are you?"
He gave her a look, but then, she already knew the answer anyway.
Angela sighed. "At least you're making some progress with Teresa."
"I'm really not comfortable talking to you about that," he mouthed, holding the book nearer his face. "I mean, you're my wife…"
"Your dead wife."
Jane flinched. "So you keep reminding me."
He shifted his legs, barely suppressing a groan of pain. Angela chuckled.
"Something wrong, Jane?" asked Van Pelt from her nearby desk.
"I started jogging this morning. My trainer is a slave driver."
She raised her eyebrows. "You got a personal trainer? Cool. I've always wanted to try one. Let me know if you like this one."
"Oh, he likes her all right," said Angela.
"I will," replied Jane, avoiding looking at the ghost beside him.
Jane felt the sudden vibration of a text message, and he reached in his jacket pocket for his phone.
In my office. Now!
He smirked. So, she was still pissed off at him. He got gingerly to his feet, dog-earing his place in the book before tossing it down and limping out of the bullpen.
When he glanced behind him, Angela had disappeared again.
"You commanded?" he said in Lisbon's open doorway. She looked up from her computer and waved him inside. He shut the door and lowered himself slowly to her couch. When he met her eyes, his mouth was firm line. She smiled; she didn't look like a woman displeased.
"Something wrong with your legs?"
"No, not at all," he lied. "So, what's with the urgent text message? Am I in trouble?" He didn't bother with adding the word, again.
She shrugged. "Nope. I figured you might be feeling the burn from your morning run, and I was just testing how fast your aching legs could carry you in here. A walk that would take you twenty seconds yesterday took you about a minute today. I'd say your pain level is about what, an…eight?"
Jane narrowed his eyes.
"You may look sweet, but deep down inside, Lisbon, you are a mean, avaricious woman."
She grinned, tossing him a bottle of pain reliever. "Seriously, though, are you up to coming with me to talk to Jamie Young's family?"
"Really?"
Obviously, that was the last thing he wanted to do, and Lisbon couldn't blame him; speaking to a victim's family wasn't exactly high on her fun list either. Jane opened the bottle and dumped four tablets into his hand, swallowing the extra dose before she could protest. She made a face; he hadn't even used water.
"Come on, I hate doing this kind of thing alone," she said. "And they just live on the other side of town."
"Why don't you take Van Pelt?"
"She has the afternoon off."
He didn't even suggest Rigsby or Cho. Rigsby was always so ridiculously awkward around the bereaved, while Cho projected about as much sympathy as a sea sponge.
"Do they know she's dead?"
"Yeah. I just need some information to fill in some of the blanks for the final reports. Also, maybe they know how she got herself into this situation. Aren't you the least bit curious?"
"Meh. She was a Cinderella, remember? The ultimate social climber. She just skipped a few rungs and that doesn't sit well with people like the McCoy's. I imagine her family will be blue collar workers who spoiled their daughter beyond their means."
"Does that mean you'll come?"
"If we can stop somewhere for lunch. I didn't realize I was starting a starvation diet today." He patted his stomach meaningfully.
She rolled her eyes. "Fine. I know a place where they make a great grilled chicken salad."
"Rabbit food?" he said in disgust.
"I'm pretty sure rabbits don't eat chicken. I promise you'll like it."
When she saw pain furrow his brow, Lisbon went around her desk and held out both hands to help Jane up from the couch. He grunted, but eventually made it to his feet. He stood in front of her a moment, still holding her hands, hyperaware of the current of electricity running between them. She gave a gentle tug and he grinned, holding on more tightly.
"You really are trying to kill me," he said softly, looking down into her face. His words seemed to have more than one meaning, and her expression softened in response.
"You'll thank me for this, later," she said, as he released her hands and she led the way out of her office.
Jane hoped there was a double meaning in that statement too.
Xxxxxxxxxxxx
"Well, that could have gone better," Lisbon said later, over salads.
"Hey, don't beat yourself up. I thought you did fine under the circumstances."
"You could tell her parents had already been through so much with her already, having their daughter constantly in trouble, then pursuing an entitled guy she knew didn't really want her. They warned her…"
"The heart wants what the heart wants, Lisbon."
"Yes," said Lisbon, momentarily mesmerized by the strange glimmer in his eyes. She cast her eyes back to her salad, spearing a piece of chicken.
"Part of me wanted to go all Catholic on them," she continued, "comfort them by saying they'll see her in Heaven, that this life is by no means the end. But I can't do that; I have to stay professional and leave such talk to their spiritual advisors. But the whole time I was talking to them, Jamie's mother kept staring at my crucifix. I wish I could have said more."
She had caught an unusual tone in his voice and looked up into his serious sea-green gaze. By now, he would normally be scoffing at such religious nonsense, spouting something about false hope and fairy tales. Instead, he was regarding her steadily, debating whether or not to speak. Finally, after a quick glance to the empty chair to his left, he reached out a hand to touch her forearm.
"Next time, Lisbon, tell them what you think, to hell with the rules. I mean, it doesn't hurt to believe such things, if it is a comfort. I wish I'd had faith in something once upon a time; it might have made things…easier."
His words left her speechless. She looked at his hand on her arm, then back to his eyes, and she saw something there she'd never seen before—peace.
"One day you cast a flower upon the ocean," said Angela's ghost beside him.
Jane froze, listening while he continued to gaze at Lisbon.
"You reached out, Patrick, and I got your message. That's when I knew you were ready to believe again."
He closed his eyes against her words, his heart thrumming as he remembered watching his offering floating out to sea. He recalled how he had felt in his heart that at that moment he truly was not alone, even in the face of the vast Pacific.
"Jane?" said Lisbon, watching the emotions play across his face, ending in a slight smile that curved his sensual lips.
"You know what I believe, Lisbon?" he said, opening mischievous eyes.
"What?" she asked breathlessly.
"I believe you were right about this chicken salad," he said, taking up a forkful of lettuce. "It's actually quite good..."
A/N: I hope you enjoyed this bonus chapter! I would love to hear your opinions. Please be sure to log in and set your settings to accept private messages. If you haven't had a reply back to your review, it's likely because of one of those reasons. Thanks for reading!
And aren't you excited about two new episodes this week? I know I am ;).