The call informing Lisbon of Officer Keen's murder came at ten pm that same Friday night. They drove to the County Jail in total silence. The man had been poisoned according to the first preliminary report from the coroner. It looked like he'd imbibed a lethal dose of belladonna with a tea he'd gotten with his evening meal. Jane didn't know whether he should laugh or cry, but he nearly turned violent when Director Bertram appeared at the crime scene, intending to explain to the media and the upset public how it was possible that two prisoners had been killed in a Sacramento prison in a space of not even two weeks. Only Lisbon's calming hand on one of his arms and the firm hold Cho had of his other prevented him from punching the man in front of the assembled media.

"This is a real tragedy and I promise the people of Sacramento, that the CBI and all other law enforcement bodies in this state will do everything in their power to find the culprit and bring him to justice. I can assure you, this is a mere coincidence and doesn't reflect on the state of security in our prison system," Bertram explained in his usual neutral-concerned tone of voice in front of a dozen TV-cameras. Patrick nearly flipped but decided to try and beat the man at his own game. Teresa tried desperately to stop him, but he pushed her away and stepped from the shadows into the light from the cameras.

"Oh really? Then maybe you want to explain to the concerned public why the Director of the CBI, meaning you, Mr. Bertram, ordered a highly important prisoner and known confederate of California's most notorious serial killer to be transferred from a secure holding cell at CBI Headquarters today? A cell where he'd been kept for over a week without any harm coming his way, and it's only now, after your ordered transfer, that he was murdered," Jane spat at him, ignoring the fact that all those cameras had turned on him, though he was counting on it.

"I understand your concerns, Mr. Jane, but it was a logical decision to make, considering the disproportionate costs these special security measures produced for the CBI. I'm not responsible for the budget cuts…" the director tried to defend his ruling.

"That's rubbish and you know it Bertram. There are at least ten journalists present here who can attest to the fact that the CBI got a generous donation just, what was it? Ah, yes, five days ago, which you promised to use solely, and I quote you here, 'to make this fine state an even safer place to live in.' Isn't that what you said? While shaking this very hand?" The consultant held up his right hand in a grand gesture. With a dramatic wave of it, which managed to convey his deep concern perfectly to the cameras, he added, "Personally, I'd believe that sharing a state with a serial killer doesn't exactly fit this description, Director Bertram." He spat the title out like a piece of rotten fruit.

Bertram looked extremely annoyed to Jane's perceptive eyes but kept it well hidden from the public. In a last attempt to defend his actions, he addressed the media again. "What our consultant Mr. Jane here has studiously avoided mentioning is the fact that he had been questioning the suspect for over a week without getting anything out of him. I didn't deem it very likely that he would do so any time soon, and the special security measures to keep a high profile prisoner safe for so long didn't seem appropriate seen from a cost benefit analysis. It would have been a waste of tax money."

Jane took a step closer and spoke in a dangerous, low voice, modulated perfectly to reach every microphone anyway. "Oh really, sir? You didn't deem it likely this weak-minded minion would crack any time soon, Bertram? On what grounds? Did you ever interrogate him? Oh, no. I forgot." He made a pause for dramatic effect. "You're just a politician juggling numbers." He let that sink in, glad to see that the journalists were eating out of his hand. "Well, it seems like Red John doesn't share your point of view, Director. Or why else would he have killed his disciple the moment he was out of our custody?" Outraged murmurs could be heard everywhere in the crowd of media folks and Patrick decided to throw a final punch. "Why don't you man up for once, Director Bertram, and admit to the good people of California that you screwed this one up good?"

Lisbon was groaning. This was a nightmare. Jane had just insulted their boss, repeatedly, in front of a whole bunch of journalists. This wasn't just a PR-scandal for the CBI, it was most likely the end of Jane's employment. Cho, Van Pelt and Rigsby stood beside her in open-mouthed shock. "Did he really just say that to the director?" Wayne uttered. "I mean, not that I disagree with him but…" He shut up again at Lisbon's death glare.

At that point Bertram's assistant came up to Teresa together with Brenda Shettrick, the PR-manager. "Agent, can you please go and control your subordinate? He's causing a scene. The director…" Baker demanded.

"Frankly, I don't care. Do I have to remind you of our conversation this fine morning? I told you this was a mistake. Live with it," Lisbon huffed at the young man. Brenda cast her an imploring look. It convinced her to go and try to get Patrick out of the line of fire, to attempt some damage control. She motioned for Cho to accompany her and together they walked over to Jane, grabbed one arm each and pulled him aside. Fortunately the cameras were turned towards the flustered Bertram, so they could move their teammate out of the limelight without too many people noticing.

"Hey, what are you doing? I was just starting to have fun," Patrick whined.

"Have you lost your mind, Jane?" Lisbon hissed. "You've just ruined your career, I hope you know that."

"I don't think so, Lisbon. I'll bet you Bertram isn't Director of the CBI much longer. I'd give him until Tuesday," the consultant stated merrily without a concern.

"You don't know that. He has connections. You really think they'll hang him for this?" she asked angrily.

Jane chuckled. "How many of those connections are keen on being associated with a PR-scandal like this? The media's going to have a field day. Trust me."

Lisbon shook her head, her worries not alleviated in the least. They could hear the Head of the CBI explaining about Jane being in a difficult situation right now, mourning the death of his father, speaking out of a state of deep emotional distress. He asked the public to be lenient with the poor, distraught man who shouldn't even be here working such an important case. He apologized for the scene the grieving man had caused and invited them to re-evaluate what they'd heard tonight against this knowledge.

That's when Patrick couldn't stop himself from going back to the cameras. He acted so fast neither Cho nor Lisbon could do anything. "Then why am I working in my state, Director?" he inquired, stepping right in front of the man. "Do you really want to explain that one to the public? Or wouldn't it be better to count your losses now and admit your mistakes? Never nice to swallow one's pride, Mr. Bertram, but we all have to be humble sometimes, wouldn't you agree, sir?" He flashed a provoking smile.

"Mr. Jane, I've been trying to make allowances for your situation, but you're making it very hard right now. I warn you – you don't want to cross me any more," Bertram growled, really losing his cool for the first time that evening.

"That sounded like a threat to me. Did you just threaten me, a distraught, mourning man, Director?" Patrick inquired, wearing an indignant expression. The journalists were making scandalized sounds.

The head of the CBI made one last major effort and composed himself. He knew he couldn't win this one tonight and had to make a retreat with as much dignity as possible. "I apologize, if what I just said could be construed as a threat." He looked sorry and unsettled. "Of course I wouldn't threaten one of our best assets at the CBI. Our consultant Mr. Jane is a valued member of our agency and I have to take his accusations seriously." He took a deep breath, stealing himself for the next sentences. "Considering today's events, I might have to re-evaluate my initial analysis of the circumstances leading to the death of a prisoner. Maybe my decision to move Mr. Keen was indeed premature. I promise that I will look into this matter and my own involvement with an open mind. I thank you for your patience and cooperation. That will be all for now. Have a good night."

He stepped over to Jane and whispered so only he could hear it, "You're playing a dangerous game, Patrick. You don't know who you've just crossed. I admire your vigor though. Rest assured, we'll talk again soon."


Jane stood there for a while, brow furrowed, deep in thought. This last encounter with Bertram had been strange. Well, anyway, with the official declaration the director had just made there was no way he could fire him. Chances were much bigger Bertram would go down over this. That was all that counted right now he decided and went back to the team. Lisbon looked at him with a stony face and the others kept a pondering silence.

"Wow, aren't we a happy bunch tonight," he greeted them sarcastically. "Come on, guys. It's really not that bad. The worst part is that we lost Keen. But to be honest, I did expect this to happen the minute I knew he'd been transferred. So, no surprises. Shit happens and tomorrow is a new fine day."

Four bewildered gazes focused on him. "Have you all seen a ghost?" he teased.

"Jane? Have you lost your mind completely now?" Grace asked. "You've probably fired yourself and we lost our most important lead in the Red John case and you're talking about a new day? Who are you?"

"Ah, come on, grasshopper. It's not that dire. There's no way, Bertram'll be able to fire me – if he survives this, which I doubt." He grinned smugly. "And yes, we lost another lead. What can I say? Nearly ten years now – guess I'm getting used to it…" he tried to joke, but the other four knew him too well to buy his nonchalance and looked at him with worried eyes.

He sighed. "Okay, you've caught me. I am disappointed and mad as hell." He gazed up at them with an openness they weren't used to see from him and added, "But I'm also very, very tired. Right now I simply don't have the energy to get all frantic." When he saw their serious and compassionate faces he tried to lighten the mood, "Oh, by the way: You better not tell Red John I said that. He might be offended if I don't concentrate my whole being on him."

No one laughed.

"Everybody? It's getting really late and there's nothing we can do here anymore. We all know who's responsible for Keen's death, so I won't allow you to waste your weekend on this case," Lisbon said in her most commanding voice, getting everyone's attention. "We'll just wait for all the lab reports and go from there on Tuesday. Go home, get some sleep, enjoy the next two days. Good night," she completed her little pep talk.

They all nodded, went back to their cars and drove off each to their own.


"I'm not happy with you, Patrick," Lisbon told him as soon as they were alone in her car. "That was a very stupid move."

He shrugged. "I beg to differ. I think it was a brilliant move."

She cast him a stern sideways glance. "I don't think you're in any position to judge that right now. This was your ego acting up tonight, not your intellect. Nothing good will come from it."

He dismissed her worries with a wave of his hand. "Ah, come on. Don't be a spoilsport, Lisbon. I had at least a bit of fun tonight," he said completely unfazed.

"I hate it when you act like this, Jane," Teresa replied.

"Like what?" he inquired

"Like an arrogant, self-righteous idiot," she explained angrily.

"Ouch! That wasn't very nice, Lisbon."

"It wasn't supposed to be," she answered dryly.

She cast another look at him, careful not to lose sight of the traffic. He seemed a bit more subdued. Good, she thought.

He didn't talk for several minutes, but then he cleared his throat and spoke again in a cold, almost derisive tone. "So what did you expect me to do, Agent Lisbon? Stand there and listen to that moronic, miserable piece of politician shit telling the public he'd done the right thing and sorry, but bad things happen?" Jane snorted.

"He's responsible for Keen's death. We both know that. And he screwed up with Lorelei as well. And you want me to behave like your nice little lapdog and suck it up? Sorry, but I'm not that kind of man," he hissed in anger.

"I risked everything I had at the time, my family, my integrity, and my sanity, as you so kindly pointed out just recently," he took a deep breath, "Only to end up with nothing, because that dimwit let himself be played like a sucker by the likes of Alexa Schultz." He growled. "And does he learn from his mistakes? No."

Jane was really agitated now. "You expect me to do nothing and let that idiot ruin all our hard work?" With a voice full of acid he added, "Sorry to inform you, Agent Lisbon, but I don't like it when you're acting this way. Like a spineless puppet to the powers that be."

"You're out of line, Jane. I won't tolerate you talking to me like that," Teresa replied, shocked and angered by his accusations.

He laughed without humor. "And what do you intend to do about it? Beat me up? Arrest me? Why are you allowed to tell me such things, but when I criticize you, you get all bossy?"

"Because I AM your boss, Jane," she spat at him.

He got very quiet at that. In a barely audible voice he said, "I see. So this is how you want to play it? When I tell you off, we're suddenly still on duty? How convenient." He paused a moment. "Where is the borderline, Agent Lisbon? That would be a handy thing to know. The door to your apartment? The living room? Kitchen? Or do you get to play the boss all the way up to the bedroom?" he mocked her.

His words had cut her like a knife and when he finally ended his rant and took a look at her he noticed just that. It cleared his head like a bucket full of ice. What the hell were they doing? What the hell was HE doing? Venting his frustration with Bertram and several other things on the last person who deserved it, that's what he'd done. Shame filled him and he slumped in his seat.

"I'm sorry, Teresa," he whispered. "That was totally uncalled for."

She didn't acknowledge his apology and gave him the silent treatment for the rest of their trip home, or so he assumed. In truth she was deep in thought, going over her own words and deeds. And she admitted to herself, that this whole mess wasn't solely his fault. She had been hard on him and playing the boss-card had been a particularly bad move. He didn't like the notion of answering to her even on a good day, and this one most certainly didn't classify as such.

And though she'd really disliked his attitude, telling him she hated it was not very smart. She was supposed to love him for who he was. That's what she claimed all the time – and felt as well. That certainly included him acting like an idiot once in a while. She knew him well enough after all. And hate hadn't been the right word to use by any means. It had just been a manner of speaking. But to him it must have sounded degrading, like a proof that she didn't accept him the way he was. As if there were conditions attached to being loved by her. Nothing could be further from the truth, because she did love him just the way he was, though he annoyed her at times and was insufferable at others.

And another thing troubled her as well: He still spoke of their home as her apartment. Legally speaking that was true of course. But it wasn't the way she felt anymore. He belonged there, she wanted him there with her, and the notion that it was her place put him in a position of constant disadvantage. Hell, she would bet that he was contemplating right at this very moment whether he should offer to spend the night elsewhere so she would have her home to herself after their fight.

As if on cue, the moment they had reached the parking lot and left the car he apologized again and told her he'd give her some space and spend the night at the CBI.

"No, Patrick. Do you want to spend the night there? Honestly?" she asked carefully.

He shrugged and looked lost. "I wouldn't mind. I mean, I'd understand if you didn't want me at your place. It's no big deal," he answered sheepishly.

She took a hold of his hand. "That's not what I asked, imp. Where would you choose to spend the night, if it was all up to you?"

"In your arms," he said quietly.

"Sounds like a plan," she stated with a small smile. "Come on in. I could really do with a cup of tea right now."

She pulled him along, and he followed without resistance, completely baffled. "Aren't you mad at me?" he inquired carefully.

"Maybe a little. But we both lost our tempers. What did you expect? We're both stubborn and headstrong. No reason to ban you from our home."

He still looked at her in wonder when they'd entered the apartment, taken off their shoes and proceeded to the kitchen, where Teresa filled the kettle and found two mugs. "Cat got your tongue, Jane?" she teased him.

"Something like that," he replied. He was leaning against the counter with his elbows resting on the top watching her intently. "Though it's more like a lioness, I'd say."

She smiled at him whimsically. "Not bad. I rendered the great Mr. Jane relatively speechless for once." Then she winked and added, "Though I prefer to do other things with your tongue…"

"Oh really?" He looked very interested. "Things like….?"

She blushed a little and said neutrally, "Oh, you know. This and that…"

He came around the counter and pulled her close. "Something like this, maybe?" he asked seductively, as he lowered his head and kissed her, his tongue claiming her mouth with passion.


TBC

A/N: Yeah! The last chapter was a real milestone for this fic in many ways: over 100 reviews, over 100 000 words. If I was into statistics, I would point out that I got about one review per 1000 words, which would mean I'm in for about three reviews for this new chapter... ;-). But who's into statistics anyway? I write because I enjoy doing so and I hope you do so while reading as well. But I can't deny that getting feedback is a very nice thing and an additional motivation. And as I'm not into statistics I wouldn't complain about four or more reviews either ;-)