AN: Thanks for the lovely reviews and sorry for the delay guys, longer chapter though! More case stuff in the central part but a lot of J/L interaction too, hope you like it!
She didn't know how and why she was there, at three in the morning, under the Great flood, waiting to find the final courage to knock at his door and to finally show her deepest weakness to someone else, or at least to try to do that. The rain kept pouring unstoppable, she was soaked, but she didn't care particularly. She hadn't thought, not even for a minute, that he could see her in those conditions, messy and wet hair, smudged makeup, clothes glued to her body that made every movement even more difficult and awkward. When she knocked the first time, she didn't put a significant strength in the gesture, still not totally convinced of it. When she noticed that nobody was coming to open her, though, the second wave was stronger, insistent, a perfect mirror of her desperation. He opened the door, the typical sleepy look on his face, and stared at her, rubbing his eyes a little, almost like he thought to be hallucinated. Then he noticed her labored breath, her unusual conditions, the way she was slightly shaking and his heart broke a little.
"What are you doing here?" He asked softly to her.
She looked around, trying to find a logical reply, then she passed her trembling hand in her hair, taking time, "I screwed everything up." She said faintly. "I don't know why I'm here, I.."
"Come here." He said, almost whispering and taking her wrist, pulling her inside. She followed his trail and she moved the same hand until their fingers were perfectly interlaced.
Twenty hours before.
When she had woken up that morning, she felt like she had been invested by a train. She had fought with Marcus at the end of that epic dinner of the previous night, his sarcastic comments about her lack of femininity during the evening hadn't helped and they had given her another reason to keep him distant, besides, Jane's words had kept pounding in her ears during the whole moment, " You are the hottest woman in the whole restaurant, every single dress, compared to those sinful tight jeans on you, disappears completely." The result was that she had kicked Marcus out of her apartment, telling him she needed space and time to think and winning in response by him a painful expression that she hadn't really expected. She needed something else to focus on, since she was without job and with the heart that kept saying strange things to her incorruptible mind. Every time she thought about the path that her life had taken lately though, the Red Bull case kept insinuating dangerously in her mind, screaming for a closure that it had never had. Strangely it was where everything had started and when she had met Patrick Jane the first time, the only ray of light in all that big cloud of darkness. She hoped she could keep those two things distant but it was impossible, it was like an inexplicable link wanted to keep them together. She took her phone and dialed his number, trying to ignore the anxiety she felt every time he was in the picture; she needed to call him for different reasons, professional ones, even if professional wasn't an adjective very accurate for her lately.
"Hello." A female voice answered to her.
"Sorry, wrong number, I guess." Lisbon said.
"Teresa? I'm Naomi, you did the right number." The girl replied with that shrill, annoying voice.
"Right, hi Naomi.. is Jane there? I need to speak with him one moment." She asked, trying to cover the disappointment in her voice.
"Yes, wait a second." Teresa waited more than a second, cursing herself and hoping not to have interrupted something intimate between them.
"Teresa?" And then his voice gave her the final strike.
"Hey." She said, almost shyly, "I hope I haven't interrupted anything." She said, regretting her words a second after.
"It's fascinating see where your mind travels when you think of me, Teresa, endearing." He teased her.
"Shut up." She replied, losing her shyness immediately. "Look, I need to speak with Liz."
"Liz?" He asked confused.
"That girl of the party, Jane.. the one who indirectly told me about Volker." She explained to him.
"Oh that one.. yes, I should have her number somewhere, among others Liz." He chuckled, irritating her.
"Well, look in your Casanova's agenda and then text me the number, please." She cut him sharply.
"Teresa?" He said, changing his tone.
"What?" She said.
"What do you want to do?" He asked worried.
"My job." She replied.
"I could come with you, you know." He said, tentatively.
"There's no need." She replied, knowing that at the contrary the only thing that she wanted in that moment was to see him.
He sighed. "Then.. be careful, ok?" He said softly.
"I will." She replied, ending the call.
That afternoon, she met Liz in a coffee near the river, a suspicious large pair of sunglasses greeted her the moment she arrived. The thing even more suspicious was that Liz hadn't forgotten her, at the contrary it had seemed like she was waiting for her call, or maybe waiting for something in general to happen. Looking at her now, she immediately realized, that she just needed help and nothing else. Lisbon didn't waste time and went to the point without preambles.
"Are you still seeing Volker?" She asked.
"Why do you care?" Liz said with a hint of fear in her voice.
"Look Liz, I'm not a model, never been, I work for the CBI and I'm interested in Volker so please tell me if you're still with him." Lisbon said.
"I don't get why you're interested in Thomas, he's a great, honest man, I can introduce him to you if you want." Liz said casually, fixing the sunglasses on her eyes.
"Why are you wearing sunglasses?" Lisbon asked, ignoring her words.
"I can't stand the light." Liz replied.
"Oh cut the crap." Lisbon said and leaning toward her, she removed the sunglasses from her eyes. She wasn't surprised to find a dark bruise around her right eye. She didn't want to invade her privacy like that but she was tired of waiting, she felt that the truth, or better, a small portion of it was starting to appear slowly and she didn't want to let it go. "I'm sorry." She said, finding her hand.
"I deserved it." Liz said casually, putting on the sunglasses again.
"What are you saying?" Lisbon asked, disgusted. "Is been Volker, right? Tell me."
"It wouldn't change anything." She said in response.
"Why? I can help you." Lisbon said, finding her hand again.
"Look, I know he's not perfect but.. I love him, he's an amazing lover, and besides, I deserved it.. I was overhearing a call, you know, I thought he had a lover.. silly me. Then I realized he was talking about business but it was too late, he hates when I interfere in his job, and he's right."
"What have you heard? Do you remember anything?" Lisbon asked, trying to ignore her anger.
"No." She lied.
"Liz please, this is important.. you told me once about someone who was giving you those diet pills, remember? Were you talking about him?" Lisbon asked.
"Of course not, he's not interested in those things, besides, those pills were perfectly legal."
"Stop defending him, please." Lisbon almost begged her.
"Look, I need to go now." Liz said, leaving her seat.
Lisbon grabbed her arm to keep her there. " Think about it, please and promise me to call me if you change your mind."
"I will." Liz said and then left the coffee.
Once at home, in the security of her empty apartment, Lisbon reopened the old files of The Red Bull case and Melissa Hasting's homicide, still unresolved. She needed to find something, a connection that could give her the certainty that she was moving in the right direction. She had read all those stuff a hundred times and she knew every single line by heart but she didn't want to give up. Melissa Hasting, orphan, born in Napa, a degree in journalism, found strangled in a dark road of Sacramento. She looked at the last address of the victim and her recklessness led her to go in there, considering that place her last hope. She perfectly knew that the house had been already searched and checked out, but not by her. That afternoon she had acted like never before; like a thief, looking around to see if someone was coming, forcing the lock of the house of a dead woman, looking through the books, the drawers and in the wardrobe until her desperation seemed to reach a first, small victory. She had found something, a diary, hidden between the slats of the bed; she smiled sadly, remembering how many times she had chosen that hiding place for her own secret pages. Growing up with three curious brothers had never been easy. She found out Melissa was a reporter, a fake model, just like her, some nights before in that incredible party. She was doing her own research on something completely different, about a geothermal project going on in the Amazon rainforest responsible for wiping away an entire tribe that inhabited the land, justifying the fact with the easy excuse of the drug cartel and the rebels. Lisbon knew who was the leader of that project, Thomas Volker. The great benefactor who wanted to help people less lucky than himself and that was probably using the big amount of drug found in those abandoned forests for his personal profit. It wasn't hard to believe, Lisbon had known plenty of cases about corrupted narcotics agents who kept part of the drug found during the missions, for alternative goals, but the fact that Thomas Volker, a civil, was doing all this by himself, without missing a beat and without leaving proofs of his criminal actions, was a real evidence of his unbelievable power. She took the diary with her and she was about to go home when a text from Liz asked her to meet at her house. Lisbon's hope was raising again, every piece of the puzzle started to compose in front of her. She knew that Liz was brave, and that message had been the confirmation that she was waiting. What she didn't expect though, was the spectacle that greeted her once entered in Liz's home. After one minute spent ringing the bell and knocking at the door, she had entered, finding Liz brutally hung on a beam in the wall. She didn't know which mysterious strength hadn't allowed her to cry, to fall apart in the solitude of that scenario. She had blocked, like a stone, until her professional attitude had reminded to her what she needed to do. She called Cho who was replacing her during her absence. She explained the situation, thanking for the millionth time the loyalty of his partner who hadn't asked anything about her unjustified presence on the crime scene. She was finally ready to leave the apartment when she saw him, Thomas Volker, who was staring at her from the street in front of the building. She looked at him, trying to keep a distant behavior. He reached her, stopping a few feet from her body.
"You know, this is totally your fault, Miss Lisbon?" He said, toying with a strand of her hair. She tried to reply but her voice was stuck, like a frozen block of ice. "Now, if you excuse me, the show must go on." He said, leaving her and reaching the first agents.
Lisbon spent the rest of the evening in the CBI, reporting everything she had found out, the connection with Volker and The Red Bull case, sounding like a robot, even to herself. Minelli wasn't proud of her behavior but he knew that it wasn't the moment to punish her again, she was a step from the chasm and he cared about her too much to let her go. He decided to reintegrate her in the case and her smile of gratitude told him he had made the right choice.
Every time she had tried to close her eyes that night, she had seen the same scene repeated behind her eyelids. Sometimes there was Liz hung on that wall, sometimes Melissa, other times, the scariest ones, there was herself. She looked out of the window, the rain was pouring unstoppable, every drop of rain could perfectly be the tear still locked in her eyes that didn't want to fall. She checked her phone, finding four missed calls from Jane and her heart started to do that strange dance it did every time she saw his name. She knew she needed solace, a pair of arms around her, some shooting words in her ear, but most of all, she knew which pair of arms she wanted, which voice she craved. That's why her following actions were totally hurried, unplanned and full of primary instinct, but now, in his apartment, with her hand interlaced in his own, she knew, for once, that there was no place she preferred to be.
"Stay here." He said, pointing to the stool behind her, "I'm going to grab a towel and some dry clothes."
She smiled at him and sat on the stool, impatiently, almost not standing his temporary absence.
"Change in these, I won't peek, I promise." He said, handing her a t-shirt and some pajama pants, "I'll make some tea in the meantime." She nodded, thanking him silently, then once he was busy with the tea, she removed her jeans first, stuck on her body like glue and then, worn his pants, she started to unbutton her soaked shirt, but her trembling hands seemed to make the action almost impossible. She took a breath and tried again, releasing finally the first button but when the trembling returned, she snorted annoyed.
"What's wrong?" He asked from the kitchen. When she didn't reply, he turned slowly, breaking his promise, to see the reason behind her impatience and his heart melted a little more, seeing her fingers dueling with her shirt. He was at her side immediately. He took her fingers, stopping her movements.
"Let me help you." He said, and he was surprised not to see a reaction from her. He started to unbutton her shirt, delicately, never leaving her eyes. He didn't want to embarrass her or to turn that gesture in a seduction act but he couldn't help but caressing slowly her skin with his knuckles in the process. Once he had finished with the buttons, he removed her shirt, careful not to lower his gaze always stuck on her face.
"Raise your arms." He said softly to her. She did what he had asked, totally caught by his voice and his unexpected sweetness and he put his t-shirt on her, missing immediately her eyes, the moment they had been hidden by the cloth.
"Better?" He asked, lingering a little on her sides before leaving her body.
"Thank you." She replied, finding her voice for the first time since she had entered in his house.
He sat on the stool in front of her, waiting for a signal by her but then decided to take the matter in his hands. "Teresa, what's happened?"
"Liz died." She said sharply.
"What?" Jane asked.
"She died, because of me." She replied with the same coldness. He stood from the stool and reached her with the intention of gathering her in his arms but when she understood his aim, she retreated immediately. "Don't.. look, I shouldn't be here."
He shook his head impatiently, "you know, your stubbornness and your pride are starting to be really annoying, Teresa.. drop the act, stop with this super hero attitude that you've built on yourself and be human for once in your life! You came here at three in the morning and you and I perfectly know why.. there's nothing bad in being weak sometimes, it's genuine, real.. I'm tired of fake smiles, fake acts and lies, I want something real, show me who you are, show me your weakness, your dark parts and cry for God's sake, those sad eyes are ready to explode since the moment I saw you."
They stared at each other for several seconds after his speech, both a little upset, breath accelerated and perfectly in sync until, like they were dueling in a battle, she totally surrendered to him and launched herself in his arms. He gathered her tiny trembling body, hiding her face in his neck and he was almost surprised when with a small push, she circled his waist with her legs, embracing him totally. He helped her movements, totally at her mercy, charmed by her fragility. When he heard the first tear leaving her eyes, he smiled softly, realizing that finally her façade was starting to crumble. He didn't expect though that her shy tears would have turned quickly in a heartbreaking lament that almost brought tears in his own eyes.
"Hey, it's ok, I got you." He whispered, caressing her hair and kissing her forehead alternately. He reached his couch, still tangled with her and sat on it, keeping the same position. He tried to calm her until her desperate lament turned slowly in the same initial small tears and those tears became elaborated breaths. They spent a lot of time like that, he didn't know how much, until he noticed that she had fallen asleep, exhausted from the unexpected outburst and the infernal day. He kept caressing her though and kissing the small attainable parts of her face until, won by the tiredness, surrounded by her warmth and lulled by her breath, he fell asleep too.
I hope you liked it, let me know.