A/N: Thank you all for your lovely reviews to the first few chapters. This is my first flashback fic so I'm a little nervous at how it may be received so your support means the world to me. And for those following my other two stories Destinies and Missing I am still working on them and hope to have an update to both of them this week. It's just that this story is plaguing my brain at the moment.

Chapter 4 – Work & Death

Lisbon sighed loudly. It had been a long time since she battled with Patrick Jane. And when she used to it had been about his behaviour on cases, not their personal life. She began to gather her paperwork silently, there was no use flogging a dead horse. She'd tell Morris that she failed and be back in Sacramento by evening. Get back to her life again such as it was, a stack of paperwork her date for the evening. As she stood up she heard him speak again.

"Giving up already on Janet's murder? You never used to accept defeat so easily."

Staring back at him she answered wearily, "We both know there's no point in the CBI investigating this if you're not willing to tell us anything that'll help. But if you and she were as close as you say I'm a little surprised you're letting your personal feelings get in the way of finding out who did this to her."

"Unless I'm the one who did this to her. Then I would have reason to withhold the truth," he challenged.

She laughed softly. "You didn't kill her."

He laughed mirthlessly. "You really should take off your blinkers where I'm concerned, Lisbon."

"It's not blinkers, Jane. It's logic. If you had killed her you would never have done it so sloppily. And you would have made sure you had an airtight alibi."

She frowned and took a seat again, noting his surprise as she did so. "Why did you want us on this case?"

He narrowed his eyes. "I don't recall calling you. Your old pal Morris did I imagine."

"And you knew he would. You knew I used to work here, that I worked with him. I'm sure I mentioned him on a couple of occasions. And you knew by being evasive with him would result in him phoning me and asking for my help to...handle you. It's not like the reason you left the CBI is common knowledge. For all he knows we could have parted as friends. You could have made up a thousand stories to set his mind at rest of your involvement and let you go without another word. Even if you are somehow mixed up in her death you could have sent him down a hundred false paths away from you. So tell me Jane, why did you want the CBI on this?"

A wry smile formed on his lips and she allowed herself a small smile in return as she saw a blink of admiration in his eyes. "You tell me," he said quietly.

She nodded, smiling fully now. "Because we're the best at what we do. Because...no matter what happened between you and me personally you...on some level...trust us to find her killer."

He neither confirmed nor denied her assumption. Instead he replied, "Trust doesn't come into it. But your team have an outstanding success rate. Especially when I'm part of it."

Her eyes wide she stammered, "You...you want to come back to work at the CBI?"

He regarded her coldly. "For this case only. Janet was important to me."

She looked off to the side for a few seconds, swallowing the hurt she felt as he discussed his feelings for another woman, before fixing him with a steely gaze. "If you do you realise you'll have to work with me again. For me again. You truly think you'll be able to handle that?"

He smiled a little, a trace of seductiveness in his bitter tone, "I don't recall ever having a problem with you being in charge, did I?"

She opened her mouth and her cheeks reddened immediately as his implication. Recovering she said, "I'm serious, Jane. You follow my orders and I want the truth from you at all times where this case is concerned. No running off on your own. No tricks. No plans without telling me beforehand."

"Of course," he replied innocently, "just like before."

She rolled her eyes and shook her head. As if she didn't have enough paperwork, it was about to increase tenfold.

She sat at her desk at the CBI, running through the toxicology report of the man who had been murdered where they assumed Jane had picked up the toxin. She questioned his associates, his relatives on where he could have been poisoned. He worked as a lawyer, not at a centre for infectious diseases or out in the wilds where he may have picked something up by accident. No foreign travel in the past year according to his passport. His house and grounds had been searched but nothing had been found. Cho had arrived back at the office shortly after she did, no doubt feeling the same helplessness she did and helped her investigate while simultaneously wanting to keep an eye on her. Nothing after three hours. She checked with the CDC who were looking into identification of the toxin and who had isolated Jane when he reached the hospital and had tested the team immediately after he arrived for similar symptoms. Once they were satisfied that he was not infectious they had taken blood samples and most of them had left, leaving a couple of staff members there to no doubt catalogue his demise. She could barely look at them. Cho talked with some of the best doctors on the planet, people trained in diagnosing rare conditions but there seemed to be no hope of finding a cure or an idea of where to look next without knowing what they were dealing with in the first place.

Six hours later she had researched as much as she could on the internet herself. She knew it was pointless; she was going to find no answers there if the CDC didn't have them but she had to do something. Anything to stop from thinking about her friend who was dying. The words suddenly hit her like a freight train. Her best friend was dying and here she was trawling the internet. He needed her, he'd asked for her and she'd abandoned him. Ran away instead. She briefly thought about when she'd left Chicago, another time she'd run away when life got too hard. At that instant Cho walked into her office and slumped into the chair opposite. Before he spoke she did.

"I know it's time I talked to him," she whispered, her voice cracking.

Cho nodded and picked up her coat. "I'll go with you."

She entered his room quietly and saw he was asleep. It was a picture she'd seen a thousand times but none like this. More lines evident on his face, his colour drained, his lips pale and dry. The doctor had told her he'd just had another transfusion and that he should wake soon. She wiped the tears from her cheeks and sniffed. She held out a hand and brushed it lightly over his hair, a ragged breath escaping as she did so. She had yearned to touch his hair for years, a small secret she kept to herself, wondered often if it was as soft as it appeared. She looked at her hand tangled in it and smiled sadly. Even drenched in sweat it felt wonderfully silken.

"I hope it was worth the wait."

His sudden soft voice startled her and she leapt back, putting a hand to her chest. Her cheeks aflame she took in his knowing smile and she shook her head. "Not really, bit of a disappointment," she said, trying to sound offhand, pursing her lips to keep in control of her emotions.

His full grin in return broke all her resolve and she allowed the tears to stream down her face.

"Come here," he said softly, patting his hand on the bed beside him.

She shook her head furiously, wiping her tears. "No! If I do that...If I do that I know what you're going to say. You're going to want to say goodbye." She turned her tears into anger. "And I'm not ready for that! I'm not ready to say goodbye to you, you jackass!"

He laughed softly. "Teresa, please. Sit down before your legs give way."

She could feel her legs trembling and wondered briefly if he had just implanted that suggestion into her brain. She shook her head once again and stumbled over to sit beside him. "I'm only doing this if you promise not to say goodbye," she snapped, pulling her jacket around her for comfort.

"Okay. No goodbyes."

"Okay," she sighed, beginning to calm down.

Their eyes locked on each other and he moved his hand take one of hers. Silently he rubbed his thumb over her knuckles and she felt herself relax a little more. "You need to stop," he said quietly.

She eyed him quizzically.

"You need to stop looking for a miracle. You need to accept what's going to happen."

She looked down at their hands that were now intertwined. "Tell me this is all some colossal trick of yours. Like the time you pretended we were going to die before."

He chuckled. "It would be a hell of a trick if it were. Could sell it to David Copperfield."

She met his eyes and tears began to fall again. "You can't leave me. Everyone...everyone I care about leaves me. Please don't leave me, Jane." Her whole adult being was built on being totally independent but at this moment in time she felt like she was twelve years old again and wanted the world to stop turning, to stop the lonely path she would have to trek from this point on.

Tears fell down his own cheeks now and he squeezed her hand tighter. "Believe me, I don't want to. It's the last thing I want, Teresa. Especially not now."

"Why not now?"

He nodded, sniffing to stop crying and wiping his tears away. "I'll get to that. Before...before that I need you to promise me something."

Expecting this request she replied quickly, "I'll catch him. I promise. I'll make him pay. For what he did to Angela and Charlotte and...for you," she replied seriously.

"Good. If you can find it in your heart to kill him instead of sending him to prison I'd appreciate it but I won't make you promise that."

"If he makes one wrong move I won't hesitate to put ten bullets into him."

Jane tilted his head. "Well that seems a little overkill but...I'll leave it to you." He smiled again and reached up to dry her tears with his free hand. "Well, now that's out of the way, let's move on to more important matters."

"More important matters than him?" she asked, surprised.

He nodded, smiling, his fingers caressing the curve of her cheek. "Much more important matters."