A/N: Thanks again to all the wonderful reviews to the last chapter. I was a little nervous of what the reaction would be to Lisbon's outburst at the end. This chapter includes, yes yet another, M rated scene. I'm getting a little tired writing them so you must be getting a little tired reading them! But it's a pretty important scene so couldn't really tell the story without it. But feel free to skip, I've marked it accordingly.

And for those following my story Vegas Variation I've worked out how I'm going to finish it and can't wait to get it down on paper so I'll be focusing on that story next.

Chapter 20 – Moving On

Jane watched her drive away from the diner; saw her swipe a stray tear from her eye in annoyance as the headlights of her car illuminated her features as she reversed it out of the parking lot. He had never seen her look at him like that. In all the years he knew her she had never been as detached as she spoke to him, as apathetic. She looked tired and weary, beaten down.

Uncaring. The word left a bitter taste in his mouth as he thought it. He never imagined using that word to describe her. He felt bile rise in him that he had been the one to cause him to choose that word.

And as he finished his tea with a shaky hand he knew he only had himself to blame. He'd finally pushed her to her limit. There was only so much secrecy and deception any person could take and Saint Teresa was no exception. In their year apart she'd rebuilt the defences he'd pulled down to castle proportions. More guarded than ever. Especially with him. And as much as she'd lied to him, he leaving her so abruptly had caused any trust she had in him to shatter too.

He felt no relief that she was letting the Red John connection go, that she would allow him free rein over the Walker case. He was used to her as the angel on his shoulder for years, the one who kept trying to steer him down a path away from darkness. And without her...without her...

He heard a noise from the kitchen, spurring him into action. He wasn't ready to face Marcie or anyone else with questions to her sudden disappearance. He quickly threw some money on the table and rushed to his car. As he drove away he smiled faintly. Perhaps Marcie would think passion got the better of them and they'd taken off to bed each other.

Instead they were further apart than ever.

He pulled his car over to the side of the road a few minutes later, tears blurring his vision. After wiping them away in frustration, a singular thought ran through his head.

She had been wrong about one thing.

He started the engine and pursed his lips as he drove towards her condo.

"You sure you're ready to go back to work?" Lisbon asked as they approached the Jensen residence, a detached property on the outskirts of Sacramento. She showed her badge to the officer posted at the gate and made their way up the drive, lush gardens on either side of the path.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Kid's missing," he replied as an explanation.

Her team were already there and she saw Wainwright near the door. "Oh, god," she said quietly, hoping her boss wouldn't recognise any difference to her and Jane's relationship.

Jane chanced a smile. "Just act normal with him, Lisbon. Everything's going to be fine."

She rolled her eyes, blushing furiously.

He chuckled as he got out of the vehicle. "I'm not about to ravish you in those bushes over there," he said. He leaned down and whispered in her ear. "I'll save any ravishing until after we've found the child."

As she gaped at him they caught up with Cho and Rigsby first. "Jane! Welcome back, man!" Rigsby smiled, patting him on the shoulder. Cho looked Jane up and down and nodded curtly. "You don't look any worse for wear."

Jane smiled despite the circumstances. "Good to be back, guys, thanks for the get well soon cards although I suppose I should thank Van Pelt since neither of you actually bought them, you just signed your names."

Rigsby reddened slightly and Cho's lips upturned slightly. "See almost dying hasn't changed you much then," Cho said.

Jane made sure not to look at Lisbon but grinned. "Well, I wouldn't say that exactly."

Wainwright approached them. "Jane! You're back, glad to see it. How are you feeling?"

"Pretty good, Luther," he grinned. "Lisbon took me out to get some fresh air yesterday, did me the world of good." He nodded towards her, "She got a little colour in her cheeks too." He glanced at her, amused, "I must say, Lisbon, you look more refreshed than I've ever seen you. You have that unmistakeable air of someone fully rested and sated."

She smiled and laughed nervously, her eyes telling him she would kill him later.

Wainwright looked between them for a moment, a line between his eyes. He shook his head slightly. "Well, that's...um...well that's good to hear." He focussed on Jane. "Because we need your help on this one."

As they entered the house Wainwright filled them in on the case. Jake Jensen, ten years old was reported missing by his father the evening before. He was a lone parent, his wife having died two years prior. They had two other children, both boys aged fourteen and twelve. A search had been made of the property by Sac PD but there had been no trace found of the youngster and the grounds were now being searched for his whereabouts.

"You think he could be hiding somewhere, got in trouble with his dad and now he's too frightened to reveal himself because of the fuss?" Lisbon asked as they walked across the panelled hallway.

"It's a theory," Wainwright agreed. "But the fact he still hasn't been found ten hours later isn't a good sign."

"Kids get hungry" Jane nodded. "He'd have made an appearance by now if he was still in the house or the grounds. Unless-"

"Precisely," Wainwright interrupted. The three walked in solemn silence, each pondering the same reason why a child would not come out of a hiding place - because they could not.

"Father's in there," the boss said, pointing to a lavish sitting room. "Go talk to him; see what you make of him. I'll go see how the search is going."

"There's a lake out back," Lisbon said quietly, drawing his attention to it before he left, as she looked through the windows of the room they were entering.

"Yeah, I know. If we find nothing in the next hour we're going to consider dredging it," Wainwright nodded. "Let's hope it won't come to that."

Before he could get away Jane touched his arm. "Where are the other kids?"

"Upstairs in their rooms. Neighbour's sitting with them."

"He doesn't have a nanny or someone to help with them?" Jane frowned.

The other man shook his head. "Apparently not. Economy's been tough on him by all accounts. This place may look spectacular but house is mortgaged to the hilt."

"Hmm. Interesting," Jane murmured as Wainwright left the room, taking a call.

"What is?" Lisbon asked, seeing the familiar face of Patrick Jane, the cogs in his brain spinning as he theorised internally. "What? Oh, nothing most probably" he smiled. "Let's go talk to him, shall we?"

As they talked to John Jensen Jane lingered in the background, listening intently to every word but his eyes falling over photographs and ornaments in the room. The man sat with his head in his hands. "I went to check on him before I went to bed but he wasn't there," he told Lisbon who sat opposite him. "So I checked everywhere I could think of. And...well when I couldn't find him I called you people."

"Has he run off before?" she asked.

"No. Never. He's a little...um...precocious I guess you could say. A little more full of energy than my other two but no, nothing like that."

As she continued questioning him Jane strolled out of the room and made his way upstairs. He found the other two boys playing with a deck of cards as a woman in her early fifties sat on a chair in the room, reading a book. Jane produced his laminate and showed it to her. "I'm with the CBI, mind giving me a minute?" he smiled.

"Um...well I'm not supposed to leave them."

"Oh, it'll be fine," he assured her. "Won't take a minute." He charmed her with another smile and she flushed slightly.

"Well, boys okay if I leave you with-?"

"Patrick Jane," he smiled, shaking her hand.

The boys merely shrugged in response, their eyes on the game in front of them.

The woman laughed nervously and exited the room. "I'll wait next door," she blushed.

Jane knelt down on the floor beside them, noticing the elder boy move away slightly as he sat down. "So, what are we playing?" he said cheerfully.

Lisbon finished the questioning with the father and went in search of Jane. Nothing ever changes she mused as he had performed another disappearing act. A boy's laughter caught her attention and she smiled, knowing exactly where he was. She found him sitting cross legged with two boys playing cards.

"Oh, hey Lisbon!" he smiled. "Henry, Kevin, this is my good friend Teresa."

Two boys with dark hair and dark eyes stared up at her. "Hi," they said nervously.

She beamed a smile back. "Hi, guys, what are you playing?"

"Patrick's showing us how to play poker," Henry, the younger one enthused.

"Is he now?" she replied, raising an eyebrow.

"Kid's a natural," Jane smiled, winking at her. He patted down his pockets. "This one's cleaned me out."

Henry laughed as Jane threw another hand, jumping up slightly in excitement as he gathered his winnings consisting of chocolate coins. As the boy jumped up Jane's eyes went to Lisbon's immediately, all humour gone and Lisbon's smile faded as she nodded imperceptibly at him as she recognised what he already had.

"Well, looks like I'm out of stakes," he said brightly to the boys after a beat. He got to his feet and guided Lisbon out of the room.

She took a deep breath after he closed the door. "Oh, god no," she said, shaking her head.

"You saw it? That bruise on his side?"

"Yeah, and the cut at the centre of it."

"It's the shape of-"

"John Jensen's sovereign ring," she finished for him. "He's beating his kids."

"And we both know what that more than likely means."

She nodded, unable to look in his direction. "Yeah, that son of a bitch downstairs killed his own son."

"You okay?" he asked softly, knowing this case would invoke strong memories for her of her own childhood.

She looked him straight in the eyes, determined. "Of course," she replied. "Now, let's go and get a confession and find out what he did with the poor kid."

It took Jane less than ten minutes for Jensen to confess to what he'd did. Crying, he'd said the boy was rattling around his office and kept hitting a ball against a wall there. After yelling at him a few times Jensen's patience broke and he'd taken the ball and smacked it against his head.

"I...I didn't mean to kill him," he sobbed. "I just wanted him to stop."

"Yeah?" Jane glared, "And what about your other kids? You got a bunch of excuses why you hit them too?"

"Um...I..." he shook his head.

"Oh, stop your damn crying. You're not a man at all, are you? Taking out your frustration at your business going under at your own children." He stood up and shook his head. "You're despicable. Hope the other inmates in Folsom give you a taste of your own medicine in prison."

"Jane," Lisbon intervened, placing a hand on his. "Take a break." While she couldn't agree more with his sentiments she needed to find out where he'd stashed the body. "Mr Jensen, where did you put him?" she asked softly, holding her temper back. "He deserves to be put at rest."

The man nodded and admitted he'd wrapped his body and weighed it down, throwing it into the lake. At her disgusted expression he shook his head. "I...I only did that so my other kids wouldn't be taken away from me."

"No," she said coldly. "You did it because you're a coward and you thought you'd get away with it. If you cared about your children at all then you'd have treasured them, not tortured them."

A slight tremor to her voice she glanced at Cho and Rigsby. "Tell Wainwright; get a team to search the lake." She gestured with her head to Jensen. "Book him. I'll call Child Protective Services."

Jane cast a concerned look in her direction. She nodded that she was okay and walked out of the room, taking her phone from her pocket.

She found Jane outside, elbows against her car and his face up to the sun. "You should go home, Jane. You look exhausted. It's your first day back."

He smiled softly at her. "What's happening with the children?"

"They'll be taken into foster care most likely. Unless we can come up with some relatives who want to take them on," she replied, her expression tired.

He touched her side with his fingertips. "You okay?"

She moved away from his touch, her jaw set. "Yeah. Go back to my place, will you? I'll feel better if you do. Nothing else you can do here. I won't be too long."

He regarded her for a few moments then realised his presence here would perhaps more likely make her vulnerable when what she needed to be right now was strong. "Okay, I'll get someone to drop me off there. I'll make us some supper."

"Thanks," she nodded.

Lisbon threw her keys on the kitchen counter with a heavy sigh. She thought about the bottle of bourbon she kept at the back of her kitchen cupboard. Then she shook her head. The mood she was in she would finish it, she'd need more than a couple of shots to take the edge off. She closed her eyes, remembering the look of utter surprise on his face when she'd delivered her parting words, the hurt that accompanied it. She thought by voicing those things out loud it would help her move on somehow but she felt nothingness instead, an emptiness filling the place her heart used to reside. She turned off the lights and made her way to her bedroom, undressing quickly. She got into the shower, turning the temperature to almost scorching hot. But she hardly felt the water against her skin and almost shivered under its spray instead. As the water continued to wash over her skin she bent her head and, once again, she cried over Patrick Jane.

When she arrived home it was past eleven and her place was in darkness. She had texted Jane that she had been held up and she found a note on top of a pot on the stove. "Soup, it's good for the soul I hear. PJ" was written on it. She smiled and brushed her fingers across it. But she had no appetite and instead trudged up the stairs. She entered her bedroom, trying not to make a sound as she saw blond curls lying on top of a pillow. But of course he heard her and moved to turn on the light. "Hey," he said, obvious he was already awake.

"Sorry," she said. "I got held up at the office." She slumped onto the side of the bed.

"So I see," he replied quietly, moving across the bed and placing his hand on her lower back, rubbing it gently. "You want me to warm up some soup for you?"

She shook her head. "No. I'm not hungry." She smiled faintly at him. "But thanks for making it. I'm sure it'll be delicious tomorrow. Just going to grab a shower." She kissed him briefly and entered the bathroom.

He sighed as he saw her mask the devastation she felt over this case. He'd called the office and Van Pelt had told him that no relatives could be found that were willing to take the two boys on. And there was a good possibility they would be split up in foster care. As Van Pelt had said, sometimes this job sucked.

He heard the water shutting off and her dry herself. She walked out in her jersey and he pulled the covers for her to get in beside him. She did so silently and turned her back to him, settling on the far edge of the bed. He smiled at her trying to maintain control over her emotions and moved towards her, draping a hand across her waist. He kissed her neck softly.

"I just want to sleep, Jane," she said, the words spilling out quickly as she tried to stop her voice breaking. She moved even further to the edge away from him.

He pulled back a little and bit his lip, allowing her the space she wanted. He stroked her hair, ends slightly damp from the shower where she'd tied it up. "You don't have to be her now, you know. Not with me. Not when we're like this," he said softly.

"What?" she frowned.

He expelled a loud breath. "Senior Agent Lisbon. Toughest and strongest woman I've ever met." He planted a kiss to her locks. "It's not weakness just to allow yourself to be Teresa some of the time."

She shook her head, her breaths ragged as she held back the tears. "Don't Jane," she breathed.

"Don't what?" He continued to stroke her hair, moving a little closer to her again.

"I don't want to go back there," she whispered and he knew her tears were now falling. Her childhood, naturally, was what she was referring to.

"Okay," he said softly. "Okay. You don't have to." But he knew she was already there. She reached for his hand under the covers and he took hers willingly, settling against her back and kissing the back of her head. "It's okay, Teresa."

After a few moments she spoke. "He looked so like Jimmy at that age," she whispered through sniffs. "When they brought him out of the water I kept thinking..." She drew a long breath. "I kept thinking that it could have been him years ago. It could have been any one of us."

He held her tighter, the thought of her never entering his life if that had occurred unbearable.

She turned in his arms and he brought both arms around her, glistening eyes staring up at him, searching his face for an answer to a question unspoken. His breath caught in his throat as he lost himself in the dark pools, transfixed on his face. "How can someone do that, Jane?" she finally breathed. "How can someone kill a child?"

He just managed to shake his head. "I...I don't know."

He swallowed a lump in his throat and saw her eyes widen, sudden recognition of the words she had used. "Oh my god, I'm sorry," she stuttered. "I'm so sorry, I wasn't thinking." She kissed him softly on the lips, then on his cheeks. "I'm sorry," she said again, her tears starting again as she kissed him lightly all over his face, repeating the words over and over.

"It's okay," he replied, kissing her back, clinging to her, his own loss ripping through him. "I know...I know you didn't. It's okay."

He kissed her again. "It's okay."

She nodded and kissed him back. They looked at each other and felt something indiscernible shift between them, their relationship suddenly turning up a notch. Soon soft kisses were replaced by fiercer ones. She gripped his pyjama top and thrusted her tongue into his mouth. He moaned and relished the feel of her, pushing her onto the pillow and devouring her mouth in turn.

M rated scene

He stopped thinking and acted on instinct, his hand seizing a breast and squeezing it hard as he continued to kiss her. She groaned and writhed beneath him, her hand clutching his arm. He raised his face, saw the fire in her eyes and he smiled, pure desire in his own. He took her hand and moved it down his body, smiled again as he saw her eyes widen at his intention, her pupils dilating further. He licked his lips and watched her face as he released his own hand, allowing her to complete the journey. He gasped as she lightly touched him through his pyjama bottoms, closing his eyes for a second. He opened them again and she was smiling wickedly back at him as her hand continued to stroke him, hardening him further with every pass of her fingers, light strokes turning stronger as she bit her lip. He kissed her again, moving his hand down her panties, stimulating her.

As they continued panting between kisses she removed her hand from the clothing he wore, studying his face if he wanted her to go further. He nodded in understanding and she smiled again, quickly bypassing clothing to run her fingers down his length.

"Oh god, Lisbon!" he gasped, trying to maintain control, only capable of short breaths. She took control and pushed him back onto the bed, his hand still lodged in her underwear. She angled herself to take a firmer grip and he closed his eyes, his fingers limp at her core as she continued to work him with her nimble fingers. She kissed him hard, swapping hands so the other one could unbutton his top. After a few moments to centre himself Jane kissed her, moving off the pillows and retrieving his hand so he could remove his top. His skin was boiling hot and he brought his lips down to her shoulder, nuzzling it. She traced her fingertips across his back, fire in their wake as she continued to use her other hand on him.

"Stop," Jane breathed, almost out of breath and she stopped instantly, pulling back to look at him. He grinned when he saw her worried expression that she'd taken things too far.

"Just for a minute," he confirmed, pulling the jersey over her head in the process. She laughed, her laughter turning into a low moan as he feasted his lips on her breast, her hands roaming over his hair.

"God!" she panted, as he used his tongue and then his teeth to stiffen the peak in his mouth. He pushed her onto her back, settling between her legs as she drew them around his waist, grinding into him as he began to kiss her other breast. She began to drag his bottoms down with her feet, taking his boxer shorts with them. Jane moved his kisses back to her mouth and pulled both items of clothing off. He reached down and dragged her panties down and off one leg, inserting one finger into her.

"You don't think I'm ready by now?" she panted, almost giggling.

"Just wanted to make sure," he replied, his voice husky with lust.

As he centred himself over her they locked eyes. "Are you sure you are?" she asked, needing to make certain he wasn't rushing into something he wasn't prepared for.

He stared at her for a second, asking himself the same question. Though he hadn't yet said the words he was in love with her. And, while he had known that for a while, he recognised in this instant that he loved her just as much as he had ever loved his wife and owed her the same consideration she had received. He couldn't quantify it or explain it but knew he would never regret this moment. He was ready for her to see him without any pretence, to see a side of Patrick Jane only one person had ever seen.

"I am," he responded, kissing her lips before he pushed himself into her.

M scene end

After finally feeling the water heat her skin and she was spent from her tears she exited the shower and dried herself off with a towel. She wiped the steam away from the mirror and saw her reflection, her red face matching her red eyes. She puffed out a breath and pulled on her knee length terrycloth robe, picking up the bottle of cinnamon scented body lotion from the sink. As she opened it the scent always reminded her of Jane. He'd loved that scent on her for some inexplicable reason. She rolled her eyes and breathed deeply again. "For god's sake Teresa, pull yourself together," she muttered as she opened the bathroom door.

"You know talking to yourself is a sure sign of losing your mind," Jane said as he sat on the edge of her bed.

She gasped in surprise, dropping the lotion onto the carpet. "Goddamnit Jane! What the hell are you doing here! And how did you get into my house?!"

She grabbed a tissue from the nightstand and knelt down to blot the spillage. She glared at him and added, "I could have shot you, you know."

As he saw her in her short robe, the V of her cleavage showing as she bent down and he smelt that wonderful moisturiser it was taking all of his strength not to grab her and plunder her mouth with his own. He imagined pushing her onto the wall and divesting her of the only piece of clothing she was wearing. Of seducing her so she cried his name and they both couldn't think straight.

As she glanced up for a response, she saw his eyes had darkened and her breathing hitched as she saw him lick his lips. Her body responded immediately to that look as it always did, betraying the anger she felt and only wanting to be satisfied by him. She looked away before he could draw her in any further, tipping the tissue into the bin in the adjoining bathroom.

He took a large breath as she went back to the bathroom to dispose of the tissue. "Well I'm pretty sure even a bottle of moisturiser can't kill a man," he replied, trying to inject some lightness and diffuse the sexual tension prevalent.

"I wouldn't bet on it," she grumbled as she stood in front of him again with her arms crossed.

He smiled at her but her features had hardened once again. As he eyed her legs for a moment longer than he should have as his pulse picked up again he averted his gaze and bit the inside of his mouth. As he was about to speak she said, "What are you doing here? And how did you get in? I locked my door."

"You gave me a key, remember," he replied, lifting it out of his vest pocket.

She grabbed it out of his hand, blushing at the electricity that sparked as their fingers brushed against each other. "Yeah, well that was a long time ago," she said, sighing, dropping it onto the chest of drawers.

She pushed her shoulders back. "What are you doing here? We finished our conversation. Unless you've had a change of heart and have come to tell me what's going on with Red John."

"I'm not here to talk about him. I came here for two reasons. One-"

He removed a hamburger from his jacket pocket. "It's not from the diner but you need to eat. Picked it up on the way here. You've had one bear claw all day I imagine, if that."

"And two?" she asked, making no attempt to take the burger from his hand.

He sighed, placing it on the nightstand. "Two. I came here to tell you that you were wrong."

"Oh? About what?" she bristled.

He didn't try to hide his pain. "That remark about me being an imposter in your bed. You were wrong."

She swallowed, moving towards the nightstand and lifting the burger to give her something to do. "Was I?" she said quietly, unwrapping it, breathing in the smell of onions and greasy meat, her stomach rumbling in response.

"Do you recall the first time we ever made love?" he said softly.

Her eyes flicked to his. "I'm hardly likely to forget something like that, am I?"

He laughed softly, a faraway look in his eye as he glanced at the pillow beside him. "You really think I was putting on an act that night?" he whispered, memories flooding his brain.

Her eyes fell to the bed before her, the scene of the first time they'd succumbed to each other, remembered the case that unwittingly made them cross that line, of the passion that had been created through pain. Her eyes became watery and she sat down beside him, still clutching the burger in her hands. His breath hitched at her proximity and he dared not look at her. He moved his gaze to the ground. "Despise me all you want, Teresa. But don't tell me I was acting that night. Or any other I lay here with you. While I'm a different man...a man you don't like when I'm hunting Red John it doesn't mean I wasn't being true to myself back then too. You know in your heart that was the case."

She sighed loudly and nodded. "Okay," she breathed. "Maybe that was a bit harsh," she admitted.

He got off the bed quickly, startling her. He cleared his throat. "Good. I'll see you at the office on Monday then," he said, knowing if he stayed any longer he wouldn't be able to restrain himself from reaching for her to rediscover what they once shared. "Have fun with Mashburn tomorrow night. You deserve some happiness again. I wish you the best," he added as he walked out the door.

She couldn't fathom if he truly meant that or was using some type of emotional ploy to get her to cancel her date. She rolled her eyes and took a large bite of the burger.

A/N: So, anybody feeling sorry for Jane yet? Would love to get your thoughts on this chapter. I believe it's the longest one I've ever written; I'm knackered and off to fetch some wine!