A/N: The premise of this story is 100% inspired by/stolen from Lisbon99's wonderful WIP Bad Blood. Highly recommend you check out their stories. I love all of them, particularly "This is the Hour" - definitely a favorite re-read for me.

xxx

"Do you think it could be the mother?" Lisbon asked Jane from the driver's seat of the CBI issue vehicle they'd taken to the family home of their latest victim, a CEO of a successful small business that manufactured environmentally friendly child care products. "She seemed more preoccupied with the disposition of the will than with what happened to her daughter." She drummed her fingers on the steering wheel, considering. "On the other hand, the boyfriend has no alibi and a history of jealous behavior. Coulda been him."

Jane, staring out the window, made no answer.

"I don't think it's the sister," Lisbon mused. "She seemed genuine in her grief, and it's hard to imagine she would have left her kids home alone half the night so she could drive three hours there and back to stab her sister with a kitchen knife. What's your take?"

Still no answer.

She glanced over at him. "Jane?"

"Hm?"

"Anybody in the suspect list stand out to you?"

He didn't look away from his study of the landscape out the window. "Not yet."

Lisbon reined in her frustration with some difficulty. "Have you even been paying attention to this case? Or are you still brooding about Red John?"

"I wouldn't use the word 'brooding,'" he said with a frown, finally turning to look at her.

"You've been preoccupied ever since the Panzer case," she said flatly. "You're plotting something big, and you refuse to tell me about it."

"I haven't refused to tell you about it," Jane protested. "I merely haven't volunteered the various courses of action I'm currently considering."

"Fine. What courses of action are you considering?"

Jane paused. "I can't tell you."

"Why the hell not?" Lisbon said, frustration getting the better of her. "Don't you trust me by now?"

"I trust you more than anyone on the planet, Lisbon," Jane said. "But firstly, I haven't decided on a course of action yet. Secondly, you not being in on the plan could be critical to the success of the plan. And lastly, but not least, I don't want to put you in danger."

"Firstly," Lisbon said, mimicking Jane's infuriating tone of condescension. "I'm your partner. You're supposed to talk about your plans with me before you make decisions. Secondly, how on earth would cutting me out of the loop help matters? Whatever terrible idea you've come up with now, you're inevitably going to need me to bail you out of trouble eventually. Saving your sorry ass will be a lot harder if I'm not in on the plan. And lastly, how many times do I need to tell you that I don't need you to protect me?"

"See, this is why—" Jane began.

Jane's phone rang, interrupting their conversation. He took it out of his pocket and went still.

"What is it?" Lisbon said, immediately alarmed by the look on his face. "Is it someone from the team?"

"No," Jane said shortly, and put the phone back in his pocket, still ringing.

"Aren't you going to answer that?"

Jane's voice was terrifyingly grim. "No."

Lisbon waited, but nothing more was forthcoming. "Who was it?"

"Daniel," he said, his voice still short.

"Danny? Your brother-in-law?"

"No," Jane said, a hard edge in his voice. "My brother."

Lisbon blinked. "Oh." She hesitated. "You, uh, you don't talk about your brothers much." This was an understatement. Jane's file listed two brothers, Daniel and Christopher, but the details in the file were surprisingly sparse, and in all the years she'd known him, he'd never volunteered a single piece of information about either of them. The subject of his brothers was even more taboo as a topic of conversation than his wife and child, if such a thing could be imagined.

"We're not in close contact," Jane said, still in that clipped voice.

The phone started ringing again. Jane's jaw tensed, but he made no move to take the phone back out of his pocket.

Lisbon glanced at him. "Are you seriously not going to answer that?"

Jane reached into his pocket and silenced the phone. "I'll call him back later," he said, in a tone that meant that he had absolutely no intention of calling his brother back.

Lisbon waited again, but to no avail. Jane had slipped into a dark, forbidding silence, completely unlike the companionable quiet they'd been sharing only a few moments ago.

"How come you've never told me about your brothers?" she asked abruptly. She hated when he shut her out like this.

He shrugged. "Nothing to tell."

"They're your brothers," Lisbon said, incredulous. Her own brothers were such a dominant force in her life. She couldn't imagine just—pretending they didn't exist, or whatever the hell it was that Jane was doing.

Jane sighed. "Lisbon, will you please leave it?"

She wanted to protest, to insist that he break his long silence on the subject, but the weary resignation in his voice stopped her.

"Fine," she conceded. They drove in silence for a moment. Lisbon was hardly satisfied with where they'd left things before the phone call from Jane's brother had interrupted their conversation, but glancing over at his gloomy expression, she didn't have the heart to resume the argument.

"So," she said after another moment. "The case?"

Jane shot her a grateful look. "You know, I'd like to talk to the cousin again," he said thoughtfully. "He had a squirrelly look about him."

Lisbon nodded, satisfied. That was more like it.

Xxx

A bear claw and a steaming cup of coffee waited on her desk when she arrived at work the next morning. She smiled to herself at the silent apology.

She had to go to court that morning, so she left instructions with Cho not to let Jane get into too much trouble without her. As she left the building, she reflected that if Jane was in a penitent mood, she might have every reason to expect to have the case gift-wrapped for her by the time she returned. Hopefully, without even any lawsuits to worry about.

The court proceedings lasted all morning, and she didn't get back to the CBI until after lunch.

When she got back to her office, Jane was there, his back to her as he studied her case board intently.

"Hey," she greeted him.

He turned, and—Lisbon paused. He looked…different. She couldn't quite put her finger on what it was, exactly, but something was definitely off.

He flashed her that killer smile of his, his eyes roving up and down her frame. "Hey, yourself."

He wore a dark blue tailored suit she didn't recognize. And—that's what it was, she realized, perplexed. He wasn't wearing a vest. She did a double take. Was he wearing a tie?

She gestured to his outfit. "What's with the costume?"

His smile faded. "Costume?" he asked, running his hands down his chest in a feint of wounded pride. "This is couture, my dear."

Lisbon snorted. "Right. Seriously, what's the gag? Is this part of some new con you've hatched?" Her eyes narrowed. "It's not part of your grand plan you won't tell me about, is it?"

"Ah—no. It's not part of a grand plan," he said. "It's just a suit."

"Uh-huh," Lisbon said, unconvinced. "You're not planning some kind of undercover op that I should be aware of?"

He grinned and stepped closer to her. "Only if you're getting under the covers with me," he said with a flirtatious smile.

She leaned back and squinted at him. She couldn't figure out what it was, but he just looked a little too…polished. "Did you get a haircut?" His curls seemed more artfully tousled compared to their usual wild and disheveled state.

He moved even closer to her. "So sweet of you to notice," he said, still in full on charm mode.

Lisbon glanced down. At a pair of black, shiny, wingtip shoes. "What happened to your shoes?" she asked, scandalized.

He looked down at his feet. "You don't like them?"

And in that moment, Lisbon realized that this man, whoever he was, was not Jane.

She took a hasty step back. "Who the hell are you?" she demanded, the color draining from her face.

The blinds rattled on the door behind her. Lisbon swung her head around in time to see another blond man push open the door and stop in the doorway. "There you are," he said to the not-Jane, exasperated. "I've been looking all over for you."

Lisbon stared. The new man was definitely not Jane. He wore glasses and had a short beard, and his hair was a little longer and wilder than Jane's. He wore jeans and a fitted Henley shirt that made it clear that he didn't spend ninety percent of his day lying around on a couch. Hello, she thought, the low, base part of her pricking up and taking interest. Then her brain turned back on and she realized she must be losing it, because aside from the beard and the glasses and that shirt that exposed what any straight, red-blooded female would have to admit was an extremely attractive and well-defined chest, this man, too, looked exactly like Jane.

The other door opened. "Lisbon, about yesterday—" and finally, this was her Jane, staring at the not-Jane and the definitely-not-Jane in just as much consternation as she felt herself.

"Oh, thank God," Lisbon said, and scurried over to his side to gather what reassurance she could from the presence of a familiar…presence. "I thought I was losing my mind."

Jane glared at the not-Jane. "What are you doing here?"

The not-Jane raised his eyebrows. "Nice to see you, too, little bro."

"Little bro?" Lisbon echoed faintly.

"Daniel's the oldest," Jane said shortly. "By three minutes. Chris is the youngest. Six minutes after me."

Lisbon looked back and forth between the not-Jane, the definitely-not-Jane, and the—well, and Jane, feeling as though her hormones were pulling her in three directions at once. "How is it possible," she asked in a strangled voice. "That you never mentioned that you and your brothers are triplets?"