Chapter 14: Starting Work
*** M rated material noted below.***
Lisbon and Jane
Force of habit woke Lisbon early, a peaceful dawning of awareness. At last the man she wanted for years was with her - warm, present, hers. Despite quitting her job, moving thousands of miles, resetting her life completely, she was happier and more optimistic than she could remember.
She carefully shimmied from under his sleeping embrace to use the bathroom and brush her teeth. Mini-blind slats striped Jane with gold and dark. Sunlight glinted off mussed curls and highlighted cheekbones, strong jaw, and luxurious eyelashes. She carefully slid back into bed, gently nestling against his side. He sighed in pleasure, his hand unconsciously brushing her bare shoulder.
Her fingers delicately caressed his face, skirting the fading bruises and scrapes. She stretched up and gently kissed his cheek, grinning at the prickly beard stubble. Her hand cupped his cheek then glided down his neck to trace the broad planes of his chest, the muscled flat of his stomach. Jane shifted contentedly and an easy smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, still without waking. She ghosted fingertips over his chest, taking care to avoid the bruises and healing cuts. Love mingled with fierce protectiveness washed over her. She would protect him, despite his will to prevail heedless of danger.
Lisbon's glance ran over the familiar, beloved face etched by sadness but, newly, by happiness too. Unbidden memories welled up. Devastated Jane appearing at the CBI. That same man mesmerizing, commanding and irresistibly handsome a scant week later. Mocking the pompous. Catching raindrops on his tongue. White and terrifyingly still - not breathing. Soaking up sunshine. Performing in a tuxedo. Raking in chips. Pinning her with his gaze. Holding a baby. Tricking Rigsby. Smiling - some fake, some genuine, but the best for her alone. And talking. Arguing, teasing, charming, challenging, lecturing, soothing. This infuriating, interesting, brilliant, disruptive, magnificent man was hers at last.
Sheer overwhelming happiness called forth a few tears. Jane looked at her with sleepy eyes and pulled her closer.
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing. –Everything's finally right."
His smile was radiant. "Yes it is, my dear." Jane turned to face her, hands caressing her back as he pulled her into a kiss. He murmured, "I missed you so much."
"'Strange and sad'?" she quoted from his last letter.
"Unbearably. Couldn't be otherwise with you thousands of miles away." She buried her face against his shoulder. "And you, Teresa? How was it ... after?"
She breathed, "Bad." He hugged her closer and waited patiently. "Everything gone in an instant. You. The team. The CBI. Suspected of being Blake, blackballed by Abbott." She gazed upward, damp eyes just visible through lashes. "Minelli had to help me land a county sheriff's job." Another pause. "Worst was not knowing if I'd see you again."
He sprinkled kisses over her face, neck. "Sorry I wasn't there to help."
She frowned, expression intense. "I was glad you weren't. Blake killed several LEO's in Abbott's round up."
He whispered, eyes closed, "Then I'm glad you and the team were out of it, too."
"We're taking on Blake again. What happens after?"
Jane tipped his head. He thought a moment then said simply, "I don't know. Whatever happens will be fine so long as we're together."
*** Start of M-rated ***
They turned to more urgent needs. One hand caressed her smooth skin as the other tangled in silky hair, holding her close as their kisses deepened. Tongues dueled then disengaged. He found exquisitely sensitive points on her face and neck. His tongue traced the delicate ridges of her ear, triggering a delicious shiver. Jane kissed his way down and buried his face between her breasts and breathed in her scent. He raised his head, lips again capturing hers as graceful fingers gently kneaded her breasts. The riches of her body laid before him, his mouth returned to her breasts. He sucked one nipple erect as he thumbed the other, then reversed, adoring each equally.
She buried both hands in his hair, holding him close, controlling and deepening their kisses. As his kisses moved south, her hands ghosted over his back, then around to his chest. Fingers brushed his nipples hard and stroked, taking care to avoid cuts and bruises. She frowned as her hands skated over the corrugation of ribs, angry anew at the abuse.
"It's okay," he said between kisses. "All over."
"Too thin. Hate why."
"I'll gain it back. -Unless you work it off me," he leered, grinning.
She scooted closer, hand drifting down and wrapping fingers around his rigid flesh. "Both. Lots of both."
His reply was lost to kissing. He only partly suppressed bucking in pleasure from her attentions. He squeezed well muscled cheeks before brushing her core from the rear. Finding her hot and wet, he shifted away enough to slide his hand between them.
Higher brain functions began to short out. "Ah - stop, stop. Can't hold out with you doing that."
"Your pleasure is mine," she whispered, breath tickling, but reluctantly released him with a fond final stroke. Her thumb ran over too-sharp pelvic bones and he wriggled and chuckled, unexpectedly ticklish.
"C'mon, Jane," she said, breathless, "Want you now."
He flipped her on her back and she splayed her legs, core deliciously slick and hot, engorged by arousal. He centered himself between her legs and guided himself to her entrance. She gasped in pleasure as a smooth, firm thrust filled her. They quickly found their rhythm and her hips lifted to welcome each stroke. Jane bit his lower lip to distract himself, hold back. Finally she tightened and broke around him mewling in pleasure. Her contractions gripped him, tipping him over the edge. He shuddered in ecstasy and release.
*** End of M-rated ***
Jane rolled to the side and dozed. Lisbon enjoyed the boneless contentment of being well-loved and perfectly satisfied. Some minutes later, she roused herself to go clean up. She stopped dead as she returned. It gleamed in the sunlight, resting innocently next to her Glock. She huffed in surprise then shrugged a little and climbed back in bed. They would talk when he woke. Even after his two-year absence, she wouldn't deliberately wake him when she had so long pitied his years of insomnia. She glanced at it again in wonder. Jane has moved forward since Red John. It was going to be a good day.
The FBI
The first week was strained. Not knowing the reason for Fischer's fall from Abbott's good graces, Cho reaped the resentment of the agents who knew Fischer - which was all of them. Cho ignored that and settled into his new role. He juggled IT analyst interviews with working the Avilard cold case. Cho, Lisbon and Jane spent an hour each morning for an interview before heading out to reexamine the crime scene and question people relevant to Avilard.
Lisbon and Jane had each other. Their determination to eventually work the Blake case largely insulated them from new job anxiety. So long as they could advance their agenda, they didn't much care about fitting in, doing well, being accepted. Lisbon's desire to be respected by her peers had suffered a serious blow not only from the FBI's automatic suspicion the SCU was corrupt, but also from the bitter discovery that so many CBI "peers" had, in fact, been dirty. Jane's work life markedly improved when his couch arrived. His sleeping on the job was widely resented once the agents' sheer disbelief wore off. As expected, rumors about Jane's "number one demand" entertained the entire building. Lisbon bristled at the knee-jerk assumption they were unqualified interlopers.
They solved Avilard by Thursday.
IT Analyst
On Friday morning, Cho and Lisbon rose from the conference table and greeted the final IT analyst they would interview.
"Have a seat, Agent Wylie."
"Thank you, Agent Ch-"
"–Just Cho. This is Agent Lisbon–"
"–Call me Lisbon."
Cho continued, "You want the IT analyst position on my team," Cho began and then Jane strolled in with a cup and saucer in his left hand. Fifth interview. Fifth time he's late. Why?
Jane extended his right hand. "Patrick Jane." His smile broadened as Wylie's eyes got round and he blanched. "I see you helped track me down in South America. Small world." Jane seated himself and leaned back comfortably.
Wylie closed his mouth and sat straighter. "Um, yeah that's right."
That's why. Cho took lead again, "Why do you want to join my team?"
Wylie tore his gaze away from Jane. "More interesting to work cases start to finish."
Skimming his personnel folder, "Top of your class in IT and analysis. Agent two years. Convince me you're my best choice."
Wylie blinked and focused on Cho. "I was best in the last four classes actually, based on Quantico statistics. I made solid contributions to every case I've worked. Two commendations from Agent Abbott. I – I tend to have a different take on things. That gives the teams more ways to solve the case."
Lisbon interjected, "How do you reconcile FBI protocols with that 'different take'?"
His 'deer in the headlights' look was tempered by stubborn determination. "FBI protocols are intended to help, not replace thinking and logic. If I think I've got something, I tell the lead agent."
Cho took over, "You imply other analysts aren't as good. But you're the least experienced of the five."
"Yes, sir. I'll get experience with time. But ability to think and willingness to stand up for a good idea are innate."
Lisbon again, "How flexible are you? Learn new skills, different ways of doing things?"
Wylie's eyes shone. "I always want to become more capable."
Cho, "What gives you the most satisfaction?"
"Getting the answer, figuring it out."
"Analysts don't have the highest profile. How's that strike you?"
"Official recognition's good. Having my team's respect is better."
"How do you spend your spare time?"
He shrugged. "Well, when I've run out of fu- uh, interesting things to do here, I do a lot of computer work at home. Also, gaming." Defensively, "Computer gaming's often the cutting edge of technology. It's a good way to see what's made it out to mass markets that may be used for crime."
Jane languidly inserted a question into the quiet. "How did you find me?"
Wylie froze.
"We're all FBI. Answer the question," Cho directed.
Wylie poured water from the carafe and gulped down a half glass. Taking a deep breath, "The FBI knew Chief Lisbon was getting letters from you–"
"How?" Lisbon interrupted.
Wylie hunched his shoulders a little in embarrassment. "The surveillance agent reported when you got a letter."
"How did he know?" she asked again, frowning.
Wylie looked away. "Your PD station officer, well, chatted with him. You were always in a good mood when you got a letter."
Lisbon controlled her anger. "The FBI searched my house for letters?"
"Yes."
Jane interjected again, "How were the letters traced to me? No postmarks."
Wylie looked up at the ceiling, huffed a little and gave it up. Have to answer even if it kills getting the job. "The FBI investigated you. You, uh, you didn't keep in touch with your in-laws or friends from before your family's murder. We verified your SCU team wasn't getting them. That left people from your earlier life, from the carnival."
"Hundreds are connected to the carnival." Jane tilted his head, curiosity burning bright.
"Yeah, there are. The Cannon Falls post office diverted Chief Lisbon's mail. We knew your letters weren't delivered that way." He spread his hands. "All that's left is in-person delivery. I correlated fill-ups for everyone at the carnival with gas charge cards. Thought that was a bust till I looked for fill-ups by every adult in a family. There was a perfect correlation with Pete Barsocky's family." He cleared his throat. "We intercepted one of your letters to Barsocky from Venezuela." He sighed then lifted his gaze from the conference table to Jane. Jane was smiling broadly.
"Very clever, Wylie. And that's how you found me two months ago?"
Wylie cleared his throat again. "Uh, actually it was about a year ago." Jane sat straighter, surprised.
Cho looked at Wylie. "You investigate me?"
Reluctantly. "Yes."
"And you want to work for this team. Why?"
Faintly, "Because you're interesting. And effective. You found Red John," his eyes flicked to Jane and then skittered away, "Exposed the Blake Association. And solved every case for ten years. I figure I could learn. –Except, I guess you wouldn't want me working with you now."
Cho let it hang. "I'll decide Monday. Dismissed."
Resigned, Wylie stood. "Thank you for the opportunity to interview, sir."
"–Cho," he corrected without looking up as he wrote.
Wylie left. Jane pulled his chair closer to the table. Cho looked around. "Opinions?"
"Either Johnson or Wylie."
"Jane?"
"Wylie."
Cho frowned. "Why?"
"Smart. Driven to solve the problem, find the answer. Flexible, creative. Tracking gas purchases was good work."
Warming to Jane's point of view, Lisbon added, "I can't imagine Abbott hands out commendations like candy."
They gathered their things. Jane rose, "Hire him, Cho. He'll get along with us. Plus, we can use reverse engineering." Jane exited first.
Lisbon paused when Cho put his hand on her arm. "Reverse engineering?"
She took a breath. "Not sure. –Maybe Jane means using Wylie to figure out who called the shots to get Jane out of Venezuela."
Cho nodded. "Probably."
"Who you gonna hire?"
"Decide Monday."
Then Abel Schneiderman happened.