Warning: What can I say - still a bit angsty...
"We should get some groceries on the way," Jane said, when the Homicide team sans Rigsby had left the CBI parking lot together in one of the SUVs. "I'm sure poor Madeleine doesn't have what it takes to feed a Rigsby. I volunteer to make dinner."
"Why don't we just order something? Are you really willing to cook after the day you've had?" Van Pelt asked with raised brows and complete astonishment in her voice.
Cho glared at her. "You better shut up if you know what's good for you," he told her.
She eyed him with confusion. "What's gotten into you, Cho? I just thought we should keep things as easy as possible."
"Never, I repeat, never turn down an offer of a homemade dinner from Jane, rookie," Cho deadpanned. "When it happens, you just count your blessings and accept."
Van Pelt shook her head. "You're still not making much sense, Cho. Do you even know whether Jane knows how to cook?"
Cho nodded eagerly, but his expression revealed some exasperation. "Sometimes you can be nearly as dense as Rigs. What do you think I was talking about? Of course I wouldn't have said what I said if I didn't know he could cook."
Her face showed a mixture of anger at the insult and embarrassment at her little blunder, the latter emotion taking over more and more when Cho expounded, "And you were the one who got those chocolate truffles from him. Should've clued you in enough to catch onto the fact that the guy must know his way around a kitchen."
Lisbon decided to step in at the point to prevent her teammates from venting their frustrations of the day on each other. "Stop it – both of you. Cho, leave her alone. She hasn't had the opportunity to savor Jane's cooking yet and maybe ordering something might just be the most prudent option for tonight anyway."
"Nope," Jane chimed in. "I'm definitely going to do some cooking tonight. It'll give me the chance to unwind a bit and think." A little sheepishly he added, "I'm afraid I have to admit that I'm slightly tense right now." The others just rolled their eyes at his obvious understatement. "Doing something hands-on will help me to focus," he went on unperturbed. "There's a super-store right ahead of us, Lisbon. Let's do the shopping there. I know from an earlier visit that it's quite well-assorted."
The senior agent manning the wheel nodded, signaled the exit and cast the consultant a sideways glance conveying her understanding. "All right, Patrick." With a warm smile and teasing tone to lighten the mood she added, "But you're paying."
He only grinned and uttered an exaggerated groan that had both Cho and Van Pelt snicker, before the car came to a stop in front of the store.
They got out and proceeded through the aisles in pairs following Jane's instructions on what exactly to get. Half an hour later they reconvened at the checkout, where their consultant instantly paid for the rather expensive purchases without batting an eye.
And even though she still vividly remembered their talk about money and his reassurance that he got by nicely, Lisbon felt a bit bad about letting him pay - especially as Cho kept casting her meaningful glances while they put the groceries into the trunk, a fact which again didn't escape Jane's notice. "Do you have a problem with your eyes, Cho?" he asked innocently, handing him the last of the bags. "It looks like you're squinting something awfully. Need a doctor?" He grinned deviously, knowing well that the other man liked medical facilities about as much as he did.
"Shut up, Jane," Cho grunted all the while trying to hand the blond man a twenty dollar bill as discreetly as possible right after slamming the trunk door shut.
Jane's eyes narrowed dangerously when he held out the note the other man had just tried to smuggle into the pocket of his suit-jacket, and waggled it under Lisbon's nose. "What the hell's that supposed to mean, Lisbon? Why's Cho trying to give me charity?" With that he pushed the money back into the Asian man's hand and glared at his girlfriend.
Lisbon blushed a little and looked sheepishly. "Please, Patrick. You're reading too much into this. I'm sure he just wants to pay his share of the food."
"Liar," Jane accused her angrily. "Why did you talk about it with him? It's none of his business, and you had no right to do that, Lisbon."
"Come off it, Jane. It wasn't like that. I was angry and you weren't available. I needed to talk with someone." Lisbon tried to calm him. "Please don't make this bigger than it is. He just came over when I needed to vent my frustration. He brought the tequila and we had a few shots."
"And you couldn't wait a few short hours and talk with me instead?" he asked in agitation. When she shook her head he scowled. "For future reference, Lisbon: I don't appreciate my financials to be discussed with every Tom, Dick, and Harry," he huffed angrily.
"Excuse me, Jane, but I'm not exactly a complete stranger, okay? Stop giving her a hard time. She needed a friendly ear and that's all. It's your own fault anyway for agreeing to that ridiculous contract in the first place," Cho intervened, miffed at the attack at his boss and friend.
At that point Lisbon stopped her second in command with a vigorous hand gesture. "No, Cho. Please keep out of it. You don't have all the facts, okay? And Jane?" She turned in the direction of her lover and continued with an air of authority, "It was just about the contract, nothing else. And now I'm fed up with standing in a parking lot like this and arguing. This is neither the time nor the place. And it's a moot point anyway considering current events. Agreed?"
Jane nodded with reluctance and his eyes conveyed that they'd have a discussion about this at a later date to which she rolled her eyes. When his face darkened again afterwards, she stepped over to him and took hold of one of his hands. "Please, Patrick. We're all very wound up right now. Let's not dwell on this, okay?" she pleaded with him.
Unable to resist her, he nodded again and squeezed her hand. Both a very confused looking Van Pelt and a stoic Cho sighed with relief and got into the car. The rest of their trip to Hightower's home was spent in slightly awkward silence.
Three and a half hours later found the members of the homicide team plus Hightower - who'd given Jane reign of her kitchen after some reassurance from Lisbon - leaning back in their chairs, stomachs filled and extremely satisfied. Rigsby groaned contentedly and said with admiration, "If I had the money, I'd hire you as my personal chef, Jane. I've honestly never eaten such a perfectly done rib-eye in my life. And that béarnaise sauce was just wow."
"I'm so glad I was able to satisfy your exacting food standards, Rigsby. I'd be very worried otherwise," the consultant teased his teammate. "But you're right, of course. The béarnaise turned out especially well this time around, if I may say so myself." He sported a smug grin.
This earned him a round of exasperated looks, but since the meal had in fact been sheer poetry, nobody had the heart to really call him out on his annoying complacency for once.
"At least I know now why you insisted we shouldn't order take-out, Cho," Van Pelt added with a happy sigh. "I'm sure I won't be able to eat anything for the next two days, but it was so worth it." She sent a warm smile in Jane's direction. "Thank you, Jane." The others murmured in agreement.
Returning the gesture with a genuine smile of his own he answered, "You're very welcome, Grace. It was my pleasure." The last part was also directed at the rest of their party. "The cooking really helped me to center myself, so I'd call this a true win-win situation." At their slightly hopeful and expectant looks he rambled on, "Not that I've come up with anything concrete or useful. Sorry. Unfortunately that bastard's still the one calling the shots, but well… you know… Sorry…" He stopped talking, bent his head and looked very uncomfortable.
Lisbon, who sat to his right, decided to allow for yet another PDA and took his hand between hers to reassure him. Addressing everybody she said, "I suggest, we go over all the pertinent facts once again and call it an early night afterwards. This has been a very taxing day for all of us. LaRoche'll stop by any minute now and update us on his security measures." With a look in Jane's direction she added, "He called me a while back and told me that he's going to be part of the guard tonight. I'm sure he'd appreciate it greatly if you'd provide him with some of the left-over food, Patrick."
"I'll prepare a plate for him," Jane answered and got up eagerly, thankful he had something to do. Being unable to come up with a brilliant scheme was a very disconcerting experience for him. And though it wasn't the first time he had gotten stuck during an investigation, it was especially frustrating because it only seemed to happen where Red John was concerned.
Right now, the best he could offer was a decrease of the paralyzing panic that had taken a hold of him throughout the day and impeded his ability to think clearly. During a major part of the past 14 hours, the thought of losing Lisbon had been so all consuming it had felt like his heart was physically aching.
As a consequence he'd felt utterly helpless, which in turn had led to him beating himself up over being such a useless wimp. Grace's pep talk had helped but the tension had lingered. The task of cooking had relaxed him enough to somewhat regain his composure but it was fragile at best. His inability to offer the team new insights and their visible disappointment at this fact (and him) had chipped away at his self-confidence once again.
He stood at the kitchen counter feeling the nagging sting of failure, preparing a plate for the head of Professional Standards, just going through the motions. So when two arms came around his waist he flinched because he hadn't heard Lisbon's approach. "What's wrong, Patrick?" she asked him carefully, stroking up and down his chest. "I've never seen you so keyed up before, at least not like this."
He finished his task before he answered tersely, "I'm fine."
She snorted. "Yeah, right." When he didn't elaborate, she sighed. "Okay, you obviously don't want to talk about it, but you will – later. Right now you better come back to the dining room. J. J. has arrived and we'd like to go over the facts." She released him.
Jane took the plate and followed her out of the kitchen with a heavy heart. The last thing he wanted to do was facing his shortcomings yet again, and that's what repeating the pertinent facts – or rather the lack thereof – would mean.
So when they arrived he put the food down in front of the bald man and turned on his heels, ready to re-exit the room. "What do you think you're doing, Jane? You're meant to sit down and help us sort through this mess," Lisbon admonished him.
"Ah, thanks, but no thanks. I'll give this one a pass. I'll be in the kitchen cleaning," he answered while leaving, trying and only partly succeeding to look indifferent.
"Jane," Lisbon huffed. "Could you please stop being so difficult?"
"I'm not being difficult, I just have better things to do. What's the point of this anyway? Not much to go over as far as I know. I'm sure my time can be spent in a much more useful manner in the kitchen. I for one don't have anything to contribute," he replied derisively and left.
The remaining agents shared worried looks. "This is really affecting him," Hightower said, expressing what everybody thought. "He takes this momentary impasse as personal failure, doesn't he, Teresa?"
Lisbon nodded. "I think so."
"And he's very afraid of losing you, Boss," Van Pelt added quietly. "He had a minor break-down at your apartment. Said he would get you killed and that he's all bark and no bite whenever it really counts."
Rigsby mused, "Guess his past's really catching up with him. Sometimes with him being all cocky and aloof, it's so easy to forget what he's been through. I mean, I can't even imagine losing Ben…" He stopped and seemed lost in his thoughts. He collected himself and went on, "Ever since I became a father, I've kind of gotten a whole new understanding for his obsession with Red John. If someone did this to my baby, I'd…" He stopped again and looked up sheepishly, but the others at the table just nodded.
Madeleine knew, she'd do everything to protect her children. She didn't believe in self-administered justice but she could understand why Jane felt so strongly about the matter. She didn't really know about his intentions or how they might've been altered lately due to the changed status of his relationship with Lisbon. But she had a rather clear conviction that his plans for the serial killer didn't necessarily involve a fair trial and a prison cell.
Van Pelt had her own trauma to deal with when it came to Red John. The mere possibility of that bastard getting out of jail somehow with all his connections and manipulations made her shudder. She had to admit to herself that she wanted him dead, no matter how. Furthermore, she had a soft spot for Jane and she really wanted for him to finally get closure. Bertram in a prison cell wouldn't do that.
Cho believed in justice. Strongly. And he knew that the system didn't always grant it, though he wished it to be otherwise. Thus, he wouldn't mind one way or the other, as long as that monster got what he deserved. He was fairly convinced that Red John wouldn't go down without a fight and that the chances of him being killed in self-defense were rather high. The ideal solution in Cho's book.
LaRoche had his own demons to fight with and a past that didn't allow for him to condemn anyone. Furthermore, Bertram had played him for a fool several times during the Johnson-investigation, which he took as an unforgiveable insult. His newly won personal respect for the consultant (and his incredibly delicious cooking) only added to his resolve to support this team in any way possible, even cover for them if necessary.
And for Lisbon, well, Lisbon had come to the conviction that the only possible way to stop someone as powerful, conniving, ruthless, and cruel as Red John involved the use of a deadly weapon. She couldn't get her head around a cold-blooded execution but just as Cho she desperately hoped for a situation that would force someone's hand. And she prayed that it wouldn't be Jane's hand because she doubted it would give him the closure he needed and felt sure it would open new wounds instead. She knew she wouldn't hesitate to pull the trigger herself if necessary, but in an ideal world it would be someone else because she didn't want the deed to stand between her and Patrick.
They all spent several minutes in mute contemplation, the noises emanating from the kitchen the only audible sounds. The clunking in the background had a rather soothing effect and though they obviously couldn't know it, they all felt the same reassurance at the fact that their teammate/colleague/friend/lover was at least somewhat present that way.
Lisbon finally broke the silence. "Okay, let's get this over with. I for one have another daunting job ahead of me tonight, namely helping our consultant to pluck up his courage."
They gave her encouraging smiles and the following briefing went over smoothly. To be honest, the whole affair was rather useless because they'd gone over the facts so many times already and all new information had been shared immediately. Still, it was their usual procedure and keeping to the accustomed way of operation gave them at least a sense of normalcy and accomplishment.
By the time they'd finished their meeting the sounds from the kitchen had stopped as well. Lisbon excused herself and went in search of her boyfriend. She found him hovering just outside the kitchen. She took hold of his arm and dragged him upstairs to the guest room Madeleine had appointed to them. With determination she closed the door and pinned him to it, pulling him into a fierce kiss.
TBC
I promise there'll be some M-rated action in the next chapter. I hope you'll enjoy the anticipation...
Reviews are like a rib-eye steak prepared by Jane: hopefully not too rare and deserving the use of the phrase 'well done' only as words of praise... (yes, I do prefer my steak medium rare...).
