Road of Good Intentions (1/1)
Title: Road of Good Intentions
Author: tromana
Rating: T
Characters: Jane/Lisbon
Summary: "She was going to see Wicked tomorrow." Little did Lisbon know that that small observation was going to start Jane off on something.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Notes: Written for watchyouwalk as a part of the Paint It Red ficathon 2012. Also for the Paint It Read monthly challenge. Prompt: surrender. And for mentalistprompt 023: something wicked this way comes.
Road of Good Intentions
"What do we got?"
Lisbon's voice preceded her as she entered the small room where the victim had been discovered. In response, Rigsby straightened up and turned to face his petite boss. Swiftly, he handed over the clipboard where he had been diligently making notes and she scanned over it quickly. She took a few steps closer to the body, to observe the damage for herself. As useful as words from her colleagues were, there was nothing like getting a first-hand look at a body. It was one of the best ways for her to start wrapping her head around a case, after all.
"Alyson Harding, 23," Rigsby stated, keeping it succinct and Lisbon nodded at the facts he supplied her with. "Lived with her boyfriend and two friends. Came home early from a night out and…"
He trailed off. There was no need for him to fill in the missing words; evidence of Ms. Harding's fate was clear for all to see. For a brief while, Rigsby and Cho watched as Lisbon scrutinized the poor girl, taking note of the small details. Lisbon always took her cases terribly seriously; she always liked to take her time, especially with Jane about. Subconsciously, she had been taking on board some of his skills, learning the importance of the smaller details, the fine print, as it were. Now, it was getting to the stage where she wanted to pick up on the observational cues quicker than he did, simply to prove to him that she didn't need his assistance; she merely chose it, because she knew it did him good.
"Who discovered the body?"
"Haley Wright, one of the housemates."
"Anything else?" she enquired.
"Oh, oh I have something," Jane interrupted, before Rigsby even had a chance to respond.
"What is it, Jane?" Lisbon asked, clearly not in the mood.
"She was going to see Wicked tomorrow."
"Well, I guess she won't be going anymore, then," Lisbon said wryly. "Now do you have something actually useful to say?"
"Not yet."
"When you do, let me know," she instructed, before turning away from him. "Until then, just be quiet and stay out of trouble, okay?"
"Yes, boss."
Though he had answered with an affirmative, Lisbon sincerely doubted Jane's capability to stay of trouble. Still, she liked to at least appear in control of her team and especially, a certain consultant, in front of the CSI guys and the coroner. However, as time went on, she doubted herself more and more. Persuading Jane of the benefits of actually behaving was like drawing blood out of a stone; virtually impossible. At least he closed cases, she reminded herself as she went to glean some more information about the deceased from the coroner. He did have some benefits, even if sometimes she was forced to wonder if they outweighed the negatives.
xxx
"When was the last time you went to the theater, Lisbon?" Jane asked the moment they were back in the SUV.
"Can't remember," she lied, before adding, "why?"
"Just wondered," he remarked lightly and Lisbon was surprised that he didn't challenge her blatant lie.
"Is it because of those Wicked tickets you saw in the victim's bedroom?" she asked dubiously.
Jane nodded and she sighed. Sometimes, she wished for the days when she remembered how to keep him at arm's length, when his anecdotes and odd conversations were more of a hindrance than an amusement. Lisbon knew the reason why she hadn't been to the theater for so long. She also knew it wouldn't be too long until Jane worked out what it was, not that she was particularly in the right frame of mind to tell him. All she wanted to do was get to the victim's parents' house in order to break the bad news. Rigsby and Cho had been left behind, doing an excellent job in grilling the flat mates.
"Had you even heard of-"
"Of course I have," Lisbon interrupted. "It's not exactly that unknown. Something to do with the Wizard of Oz, right?"
"I'm impressed," Jane replied with a smirk. "I would have thought that people randomly bursting into song wasn't your kind of thing."
"You don't need to have seen Wicked to know that it has something to do with the Wizard of Oz," she retorted stiffly. "The adverts have the Wicked Witch of the West all over them, for a start."
"She was framed, you know."
"What?"
"The Wicked Witch of the West," he stated lightly, grinning as he did so. "She was framed."
"Whatever."
"You should see Wicked," he persisted, "then maybe you'd know the true story behind the witches of Oz."
"I'm not going to see Wicked," Lisbon answered, fiddling with her cross pendant as she did so.
"Why not?"
"I don't have time."
"Or is it because you haven't set foot in a theater since your mom died?"
Lisbon opened her mouth to retort, but promptly clamped it shut. Of course he was going to realize it had something to do with her mother. Theater had been a treat, back when she was still alive. It was a way for them to escape all the testosterone in household. The moment she died, Lisbon had always found an excuse to avoid setting foot in theaters again. It hadn't helped that the fatal crash her mother had been involved in happened to occur on her way home from a trip to the theater with friends, either. The only reason Lisbon herself hadn't been in the car was because she had been suffering from a sickness bug.
Still, she wasn't about to tell Jane all of that. He knew enough about her already and always had a way of working it out. For some reason, she suspected that he'd probably deduced it from the fact she had started toying with her necklace. She cursed quietly at herself. Really, she should know to keep control of her tells. Talking to Jane was like playing poker with a cards master. Then again, she knew full well he was practically a master at that, too. But it was beside the point. Her mom was off-limits, even for Jane.
And they did have a case to be working on; she couldn't be seen out at the theater, having fun, when a girl had just died, really.
xxx
"I'm very sorry for your loss," Lisbon said honestly as the woman crumpled into her husband's arms.
It was something she had done so many times before, but it never got any easier. Of course, she had learned over time how to deal with grieving widowers, parents, friends and the like over time, but she always dreaded the moment when she had to turn somebody's life upside down. You couldn't bring back the dead; all you could do was supply them with the answers they craved. Which was better than nothing at all; at least it offered closure. Except for when they couldn't close the case, for one reason or another. Case in point was Red John. Jane lingered behind her; he understood the loss of a parent better than most, having been there. Lisbon knew that it didn't get any easier for him and she doubted that even if Red John were six feet under, it still wouldn't help him personally.
After Mrs. Harding composed herself, Jane and Lisbon were invited indoors. Jane, as usual, took a step back and chose to have a look around the family home. Lisbon, meanwhile, took charge of the questioning. Deftly, she managed to ease the answers she required out of the obviously devastated parents. Jane didn't need to say much and Lisbon was quietly pleased. He often had a habit of insulting relatives of the deceased unnecessarily. Of course, sometimes, it transpired that they were the killer, but not always. Less rumpled feathers the better, as far as she was concerned. It meant less paperwork, after all.
"Is there anyone, anyone at all, who would have wanted to harm your daughter?" Lisbon asked quietly.
"No! No," Mrs. Harding retorted immediately, aghast. "Everybody loved Alyson."
Lisbon suppressed the urge to roll her eyes. If she had a dollar for every time somebody said that during a case, then it would… well. She wouldn't have enough to retire on, but it would at least supply her with a nice nest egg. Of course, somebody had wanted to hurt Alyson, otherwise she wouldn't have met an untimely demise.
"Well, goodness knows, the wicked's lives are lonely," Jane said, speaking for the first time in a while.
"And what the hell does that mean?" Lisbon answered back, the couple looking as bemused as she felt.
"Just that you might not have known the killer. Do you know all the friends of your daughter?"
"Of course not…"
"Well then, he - or she - might have had a small friendship circle, might have only counted your daughter and a couple of other people amongst their friends."
"Jane…"
"And lonely people can do strange things."
"Jane!" Lisbon repeated, louder this time around.
"What?"
"You're not being helpful."
"You're right, I'm not. Carry on."
xxx
They were back at the CBI headquarters, updating Van Pelt on the case over a coffee. Jane still seemed a little distracted, but at least he had stopped pestering her about the theater and the fact she hadn't attended for a long while. Lisbon knew that Van Pelt was still a little irritated at being left doing desk duty again, but it was her turn, so it was only fair. The early stages of a case were always the most frustrating; sometimes, it felt like they weren't getting anywhere. Really, it was just her impatience - not that she liked to admit to that, but she hated it whenever they were going nowhere fast.
"Agent Lisbon?" a man stated and strode directly up to Jane, proffering a hand.
Jane looked rather taken aback, much to Lisbon's delight. It didn't happen often, but whenever somebody assumed that Jane was the senior agent, Lisbon found herself equally irritated and amused by Jane being mistaken for a cop. Still, whenever it did happen, his face was always a picture. It was almost as if he couldn't imagine anything worse.
"That would be me," she spoke loudly and strode up to him. "Senior Agent Teresa Lisbon. How can I help you?"
"She may be a mere Munchkin, but she can still pack one hell of a punch," Jane mused, causing the visitor to frown and Lisbon to glare at him.
"Shut up, Jane," she retorted and punched him lightly on the arm.
"See what I mean?"
Jane rubbed his arm vigorously, making out that he had been injured more seriously than he had actually been. Lisbon promptly ignored him and instead, returned her attentions to their visitor. Swiftly, she guided him to her office, glad to be getting rid of Jane for a bit. Obviously, he wasn't done with the whole Wizard of Oz, or Wicked, thing just yet. Besides, she had to find out what their visitor was there for.
She just hoped it was something to do with the case.
xxx
"Hello, Lisbon."
"What do you want Jane?"
She didn't even bother to look up from the file to address him; she just knew it was him. Lisbon had worked with Jane more than long enough to know that he was virtually the only person who thought it was okay to enter her office without knocking.
"Well, it seems that the artichoke is steamed."
"Really? You just called me a vegetable?" she asked, slightly insulted and only mildly shocked.
"Um..."
"As if that makes any sense," she retorted and placed down her pen, to finally regard him.
"You'd know what it means if you came and saw Wicked with me."
"Why would I want to do that?"
"Because you're intrigued."
"No I'm not," she scoffed.
"But I can get us really good seats for tonight's performance," Jane answered, pouting. "It's a coup really, a bit scandalacious actually."
"Now you're just making up words."
"No I'm not," he answered back and waggled his eyebrows a little. "So?"
"No."
It had been a long while since she had last seen Jane look quite so disappointed. She almost felt guilty, but she really didn't want to go to the theater. It had almost become natural for her to avoid any trips to any theater. And in a way, she was almost afraid of going, mostly because she hadn't been since her mother had passed away. In some ways, it was a shame, but at the same time, Lisbon knew it was a very expensive hobby. Certainly not one she could afford on her wages. It was probably for the best that she didn't go, even without the obvious discomfort associated with it.
"Why not?"
"I'm busy."
"Really?" Jane replied, surprised. "Oh, no, you mean with work."
"And?"
"You need to take a break sometimes, Lisbon. It isn't healthy"
"We've just got a new case!"
"Exactly, nothing interesting ever happens until we're at least halfway through a case," he argued, his sunny smile quickly returning.
"And we've just got an important lead," she answered back with a grin. "That man who thought you were me? Turns out he was the last person to see Alyson Harding alive. And he saw someone suspicious following her home."
"So you're saying I should leave you to it, then?"
"Yes."
xxx
"What's wrong, boss?"
"Nothing."
Van Pelt raised a skeptical eyebrow. She had already received the case file and instructions to chase up the lead, thanks to their visitor and yet, she had lingered at Lisbon's office door. Lisbon steepled her fingers as she regarded the junior agent. Still, she remained there, waiting for Lisbon to expand on it. The team had all grown closer, and once again, Lisbon knew that there was no hiding from the fact she was somewhat preoccupied. However, that didn't mean it was any of Van Pelt's concern.
"Nothing is wrong, Van Pelt," she persisted.
"Really?"
"I'm getting a bit sick of Jane going on and on about that damn musical."
"What, Wicked?"
"Yes!"
"You should go, boss. It's wonderful."
"Oh, Van Pelt, not you too?"
"Not me what?" Van Pelt replied, perplexed.
"I'm getting enough grief from Jane about it, never mind you adding to it."
"I just saw it when it stopped by last year," Van Pelt said with a shrug. "I just think you'd enjoy it. I'd go again if I could."
Lisbon narrowed her eyes slightly. She had immediately read Van Pelt's non-committal statement as meaning 'if you would give me the vacation time.' Well, it was either that or she hadn't been able to get hold of some tickets. However, Jane had already informed her that he was able to get some for tonight, so she sincerely doubted that. Whichever it was, she wasn't entirely bothered. It didn't make a difference either way; Van Pelt could, theoretically, go on a work night, if they weren't too busy, anyway.
"Thanks for the insight," Lisbon muttered, glaring at her. "Now if you don't mind…"
"Oh right, yeah," Van Pelt replied, waving the file in her direction. "I'm on it, boss."
"Good."
xxx
At approximately five p.m., there was a knock on her office door. Lisbon was pleasantly surprised to have had most of the afternoon to herself, instead of regular disturbances from a certain Patrick Jane. Van Pelt had dropped by a second time, informing her that she had gotten an ID for Alyson's stalker and probable murderer. A Nate Reilly, apparently. As she had suspected, the case was gathering momentum. It was nice, to land a nice and easy one, every so often. Of course, she never dared to vocalize the fact; she didn't want to jinx the good fortune. She was even more shocked when she realized that it was Jane himself at his door. It seemed like he actually wanted to prove he had decent manners, for a change.
"Yes, Jane?"
He handed a white envelope to her. Dubiously, she took hold of it and ripped it open. When she slid out two tickets for the touring production of Wicked, for the performances in Sacramento, that very evening, her heart sank. She had already told him she had absolutely no interest whatsoever in going. Lisbon wasn't even that surprised, really. Jane simply couldn't take no for an answer. Still, she handed them back and shook her head sadly.
"I can't accept these."
She tried to hand them back, but Jane held up his arms in protest. With a sigh, she placed them in front of her on her desk instead. It almost felt as if the tickets were staring at her, which was ridiculous considering they were an inanimate object.
"There's nothing going on with the case, not until morning, that is. Even you can spare a couple of hours, to do something social," he pleaded.
"Jane…"
"Just come with me, please?"
She averted her gaze, quickly. He sounded so genuine, especially for Jane. But the thought of the theater alone made her feel a little queasy. All she could do was think about her mother's excitement before a show.
"Don't you think your mom would be disappointed that you gave up something you so obviously loved when you were a kid?"
"That's…" she started, but quickly trailed off.
Instead of chastising him for his lack of boundaries and consideration, she thought about it. How her mom wasn't the only one who had enjoyed the shows they'd seen together, even if it was only for a brief while. Her mom had first taken her to a theater on her tenth birthday, when she had matured enough to sit through a two hour production without fidgeting. And she remembered how they dressed up before each show, how the anticipation weeks beforehand gnawed away at her. The warmth of her mother's hand as they sat side by side, engrossed in whatever production they were seeing.
He was right, in a way, she did miss it. And she had been avoiding it, simply because she didn't know who to ask to go with her. Though some people seemed to be more than happy to see shows alone, Lisbon simply couldn't imagine going without somebody else.
"Would I have to dress up?" she asked quietly.
"Well, shouldn't a girl who's so good inside, have a matching exterior?" he said, almost singing the line as he did so.
"Jane!"
"No, you'll be fine in your work clothes. Maybe leave the gun here, though."
Lisbon rolled her eyes. As if she hadn't realized that herself.
"And you'll be on your best behavior?" she questioned.
"When am I not?"
She raised an eyebrow in response.
"Contrary to popular belief, my dear Lisbon, I do know how to behave," Jane replied, "and I'd quite like to enjoy the show myself."
"Okay then," she relented. It was easier to just give in. Knowing Jane, he'd probably have tried some other trick to convince her anyway.
"Okay?"
"Fine. I'll see this damn show with you."
xxx
"This wasn't a good idea," Lisbon spoke quietly, staring at the stage. "It feels… wrong."
"You'll be fine," Jane assured her, knowing that she was struggling with conflicting thoughts and memories. "Together, we're unlimited."
She had the time to slap him gently on the arm in irritation, just before the lights went down in the auditorium.
xxx
"So, what did you think?" Jane asked as soon as they made it back to the foyer, post show, but Lisbon remained silent. "Lisbon?"
She wasn't even looking at him. Instead, her eyes were fixated on a member of the crowd. Jane looked at the man she was staring at and then it dawned on him. Van Pelt had shown him a picture of this man just hours earlier - it was Nate Reilly, the man that they were trying to track down. That was a rather serendipitous coincidence.
"Lisbon…" he started once more, but she had already taken off.
It didn't take long for Reilly to realize that somebody was on his tail and much to the disgust of the rest of the audience, he tried to make a run for it, knocking people out of his way. Lisbon was unperturbed by the crowd; she had long since grown used to making chase in busy scenarios. It made things difficult, of course, but not impossible. With practiced ease, she wove through the crowds and it wasn't long before she had the man pinned to a wall and was handcuffing him. Reilly seemed most unimpressed that he had been taken down by a woman practically half his size, and was mouthing off. Lisbon didn't care; she was just relieved she had decided to bring her handcuffs, even if she had had to forgo the gun. She knew there was a reason that she had thought she'd need them and was glad to be proven right. Keeping one arm firmly on Reilly, she dialed Cho's number with the other. Technically, she was off-duty, but she knew her second in command would be more than happy to pick their suspect up and question him.
"Oh, you just can't keep away from work, can you?" Jane grumbled after he caught up with her, clutching at his stomach. He had a stitch. "I hope you're happy."
Lisbon simply smirked in response.
xxx
"Thank you, Jane," Lisbon muttered quietly.
"I didn't hear that."
"I said, thank you," she replied grudgingly.
"I knew you'd enjoy it," he said, as he rolled onto the back of his heels. "And you even got to do some work, too!"
Lisbon didn't even bother to answer him as they watched Cho pull away, with their suspect in the back of the SUV. When she had reluctantly accepted Jane's offer, she hadn't envisaged that it would help them to get a lead in their case. Silently, she wondered if Jane actually knew that Reilly would be there. Then, she dismissed it. If he had known, then he would have used it as a bargaining chip to persuade her to come. It would have been a lot easier than his pulling at her heartstrings, after all.
When Jane slipped his hand into her own, Lisbon didn't object. For some reason, it felt almost right to do so. Silently, he guided her towards his car. Part of her wondered how the hell the Citroen was still road-worthy, but she didn't question it. Though it had taken a long while, she did actually trust Jane, with her life even. After all, he had saved her on more than one occasion and she was genuinely grateful to have him in her life. Not that she would dare tell him mind, for fear of inflating his already oversized ego.
"You know what, Lisbon?" Jane said, with a light smile. "Because I knew you, I have been changed for good."
"Sometimes, I do wonder if you've actually changed at all."
"Hey!"
"And don't you dare carry on quoting Wicked at me. I get it; it's an excellent production, okay?"
end
Author: tromana
Rating: T
Characters: Jane/Lisbon
Summary: "She was going to see Wicked tomorrow." Little did Lisbon know that that small observation was going to start Jane off on something.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Notes: Written for watchyouwalk as a part of the Paint It Red ficathon 2012. Also for the Paint It Read monthly challenge. Prompt: surrender. And for mentalistprompt 023: something wicked this way comes.
Road of Good Intentions
"What do we got?"
Lisbon's voice preceded her as she entered the small room where the victim had been discovered. In response, Rigsby straightened up and turned to face his petite boss. Swiftly, he handed over the clipboard where he had been diligently making notes and she scanned over it quickly. She took a few steps closer to the body, to observe the damage for herself. As useful as words from her colleagues were, there was nothing like getting a first-hand look at a body. It was one of the best ways for her to start wrapping her head around a case, after all.
"Alyson Harding, 23," Rigsby stated, keeping it succinct and Lisbon nodded at the facts he supplied her with. "Lived with her boyfriend and two friends. Came home early from a night out and…"
He trailed off. There was no need for him to fill in the missing words; evidence of Ms. Harding's fate was clear for all to see. For a brief while, Rigsby and Cho watched as Lisbon scrutinized the poor girl, taking note of the small details. Lisbon always took her cases terribly seriously; she always liked to take her time, especially with Jane about. Subconsciously, she had been taking on board some of his skills, learning the importance of the smaller details, the fine print, as it were. Now, it was getting to the stage where she wanted to pick up on the observational cues quicker than he did, simply to prove to him that she didn't need his assistance; she merely chose it, because she knew it did him good.
"Who discovered the body?"
"Haley Wright, one of the housemates."
"Anything else?" she enquired.
"Oh, oh I have something," Jane interrupted, before Rigsby even had a chance to respond.
"What is it, Jane?" Lisbon asked, clearly not in the mood.
"She was going to see Wicked tomorrow."
"Well, I guess she won't be going anymore, then," Lisbon said wryly. "Now do you have something actually useful to say?"
"Not yet."
"When you do, let me know," she instructed, before turning away from him. "Until then, just be quiet and stay out of trouble, okay?"
"Yes, boss."
Though he had answered with an affirmative, Lisbon sincerely doubted Jane's capability to stay of trouble. Still, she liked to at least appear in control of her team and especially, a certain consultant, in front of the CSI guys and the coroner. However, as time went on, she doubted herself more and more. Persuading Jane of the benefits of actually behaving was like drawing blood out of a stone; virtually impossible. At least he closed cases, she reminded herself as she went to glean some more information about the deceased from the coroner. He did have some benefits, even if sometimes she was forced to wonder if they outweighed the negatives.
xxx
"When was the last time you went to the theater, Lisbon?" Jane asked the moment they were back in the SUV.
"Can't remember," she lied, before adding, "why?"
"Just wondered," he remarked lightly and Lisbon was surprised that he didn't challenge her blatant lie.
"Is it because of those Wicked tickets you saw in the victim's bedroom?" she asked dubiously.
Jane nodded and she sighed. Sometimes, she wished for the days when she remembered how to keep him at arm's length, when his anecdotes and odd conversations were more of a hindrance than an amusement. Lisbon knew the reason why she hadn't been to the theater for so long. She also knew it wouldn't be too long until Jane worked out what it was, not that she was particularly in the right frame of mind to tell him. All she wanted to do was get to the victim's parents' house in order to break the bad news. Rigsby and Cho had been left behind, doing an excellent job in grilling the flat mates.
"Had you even heard of-"
"Of course I have," Lisbon interrupted. "It's not exactly that unknown. Something to do with the Wizard of Oz, right?"
"I'm impressed," Jane replied with a smirk. "I would have thought that people randomly bursting into song wasn't your kind of thing."
"You don't need to have seen Wicked to know that it has something to do with the Wizard of Oz," she retorted stiffly. "The adverts have the Wicked Witch of the West all over them, for a start."
"She was framed, you know."
"What?"
"The Wicked Witch of the West," he stated lightly, grinning as he did so. "She was framed."
"Whatever."
"You should see Wicked," he persisted, "then maybe you'd know the true story behind the witches of Oz."
"I'm not going to see Wicked," Lisbon answered, fiddling with her cross pendant as she did so.
"Why not?"
"I don't have time."
"Or is it because you haven't set foot in a theater since your mom died?"
Lisbon opened her mouth to retort, but promptly clamped it shut. Of course he was going to realize it had something to do with her mother. Theater had been a treat, back when she was still alive. It was a way for them to escape all the testosterone in household. The moment she died, Lisbon had always found an excuse to avoid setting foot in theaters again. It hadn't helped that the fatal crash her mother had been involved in happened to occur on her way home from a trip to the theater with friends, either. The only reason Lisbon herself hadn't been in the car was because she had been suffering from a sickness bug.
Still, she wasn't about to tell Jane all of that. He knew enough about her already and always had a way of working it out. For some reason, she suspected that he'd probably deduced it from the fact she had started toying with her necklace. She cursed quietly at herself. Really, she should know to keep control of her tells. Talking to Jane was like playing poker with a cards master. Then again, she knew full well he was practically a master at that, too. But it was beside the point. Her mom was off-limits, even for Jane.
And they did have a case to be working on; she couldn't be seen out at the theater, having fun, when a girl had just died, really.
xxx
"I'm very sorry for your loss," Lisbon said honestly as the woman crumpled into her husband's arms.
It was something she had done so many times before, but it never got any easier. Of course, she had learned over time how to deal with grieving widowers, parents, friends and the like over time, but she always dreaded the moment when she had to turn somebody's life upside down. You couldn't bring back the dead; all you could do was supply them with the answers they craved. Which was better than nothing at all; at least it offered closure. Except for when they couldn't close the case, for one reason or another. Case in point was Red John. Jane lingered behind her; he understood the loss of a parent better than most, having been there. Lisbon knew that it didn't get any easier for him and she doubted that even if Red John were six feet under, it still wouldn't help him personally.
After Mrs. Harding composed herself, Jane and Lisbon were invited indoors. Jane, as usual, took a step back and chose to have a look around the family home. Lisbon, meanwhile, took charge of the questioning. Deftly, she managed to ease the answers she required out of the obviously devastated parents. Jane didn't need to say much and Lisbon was quietly pleased. He often had a habit of insulting relatives of the deceased unnecessarily. Of course, sometimes, it transpired that they were the killer, but not always. Less rumpled feathers the better, as far as she was concerned. It meant less paperwork, after all.
"Is there anyone, anyone at all, who would have wanted to harm your daughter?" Lisbon asked quietly.
"No! No," Mrs. Harding retorted immediately, aghast. "Everybody loved Alyson."
Lisbon suppressed the urge to roll her eyes. If she had a dollar for every time somebody said that during a case, then it would… well. She wouldn't have enough to retire on, but it would at least supply her with a nice nest egg. Of course, somebody had wanted to hurt Alyson, otherwise she wouldn't have met an untimely demise.
"Well, goodness knows, the wicked's lives are lonely," Jane said, speaking for the first time in a while.
"And what the hell does that mean?" Lisbon answered back, the couple looking as bemused as she felt.
"Just that you might not have known the killer. Do you know all the friends of your daughter?"
"Of course not…"
"Well then, he - or she - might have had a small friendship circle, might have only counted your daughter and a couple of other people amongst their friends."
"Jane…"
"And lonely people can do strange things."
"Jane!" Lisbon repeated, louder this time around.
"What?"
"You're not being helpful."
"You're right, I'm not. Carry on."
xxx
They were back at the CBI headquarters, updating Van Pelt on the case over a coffee. Jane still seemed a little distracted, but at least he had stopped pestering her about the theater and the fact she hadn't attended for a long while. Lisbon knew that Van Pelt was still a little irritated at being left doing desk duty again, but it was her turn, so it was only fair. The early stages of a case were always the most frustrating; sometimes, it felt like they weren't getting anywhere. Really, it was just her impatience - not that she liked to admit to that, but she hated it whenever they were going nowhere fast.
"Agent Lisbon?" a man stated and strode directly up to Jane, proffering a hand.
Jane looked rather taken aback, much to Lisbon's delight. It didn't happen often, but whenever somebody assumed that Jane was the senior agent, Lisbon found herself equally irritated and amused by Jane being mistaken for a cop. Still, whenever it did happen, his face was always a picture. It was almost as if he couldn't imagine anything worse.
"That would be me," she spoke loudly and strode up to him. "Senior Agent Teresa Lisbon. How can I help you?"
"She may be a mere Munchkin, but she can still pack one hell of a punch," Jane mused, causing the visitor to frown and Lisbon to glare at him.
"Shut up, Jane," she retorted and punched him lightly on the arm.
"See what I mean?"
Jane rubbed his arm vigorously, making out that he had been injured more seriously than he had actually been. Lisbon promptly ignored him and instead, returned her attentions to their visitor. Swiftly, she guided him to her office, glad to be getting rid of Jane for a bit. Obviously, he wasn't done with the whole Wizard of Oz, or Wicked, thing just yet. Besides, she had to find out what their visitor was there for.
She just hoped it was something to do with the case.
xxx
"Hello, Lisbon."
"What do you want Jane?"
She didn't even bother to look up from the file to address him; she just knew it was him. Lisbon had worked with Jane more than long enough to know that he was virtually the only person who thought it was okay to enter her office without knocking.
"Well, it seems that the artichoke is steamed."
"Really? You just called me a vegetable?" she asked, slightly insulted and only mildly shocked.
"Um..."
"As if that makes any sense," she retorted and placed down her pen, to finally regard him.
"You'd know what it means if you came and saw Wicked with me."
"Why would I want to do that?"
"Because you're intrigued."
"No I'm not," she scoffed.
"But I can get us really good seats for tonight's performance," Jane answered, pouting. "It's a coup really, a bit scandalacious actually."
"Now you're just making up words."
"No I'm not," he answered back and waggled his eyebrows a little. "So?"
"No."
It had been a long while since she had last seen Jane look quite so disappointed. She almost felt guilty, but she really didn't want to go to the theater. It had almost become natural for her to avoid any trips to any theater. And in a way, she was almost afraid of going, mostly because she hadn't been since her mother had passed away. In some ways, it was a shame, but at the same time, Lisbon knew it was a very expensive hobby. Certainly not one she could afford on her wages. It was probably for the best that she didn't go, even without the obvious discomfort associated with it.
"Why not?"
"I'm busy."
"Really?" Jane replied, surprised. "Oh, no, you mean with work."
"And?"
"You need to take a break sometimes, Lisbon. It isn't healthy"
"We've just got a new case!"
"Exactly, nothing interesting ever happens until we're at least halfway through a case," he argued, his sunny smile quickly returning.
"And we've just got an important lead," she answered back with a grin. "That man who thought you were me? Turns out he was the last person to see Alyson Harding alive. And he saw someone suspicious following her home."
"So you're saying I should leave you to it, then?"
"Yes."
xxx
"What's wrong, boss?"
"Nothing."
Van Pelt raised a skeptical eyebrow. She had already received the case file and instructions to chase up the lead, thanks to their visitor and yet, she had lingered at Lisbon's office door. Lisbon steepled her fingers as she regarded the junior agent. Still, she remained there, waiting for Lisbon to expand on it. The team had all grown closer, and once again, Lisbon knew that there was no hiding from the fact she was somewhat preoccupied. However, that didn't mean it was any of Van Pelt's concern.
"Nothing is wrong, Van Pelt," she persisted.
"Really?"
"I'm getting a bit sick of Jane going on and on about that damn musical."
"What, Wicked?"
"Yes!"
"You should go, boss. It's wonderful."
"Oh, Van Pelt, not you too?"
"Not me what?" Van Pelt replied, perplexed.
"I'm getting enough grief from Jane about it, never mind you adding to it."
"I just saw it when it stopped by last year," Van Pelt said with a shrug. "I just think you'd enjoy it. I'd go again if I could."
Lisbon narrowed her eyes slightly. She had immediately read Van Pelt's non-committal statement as meaning 'if you would give me the vacation time.' Well, it was either that or she hadn't been able to get hold of some tickets. However, Jane had already informed her that he was able to get some for tonight, so she sincerely doubted that. Whichever it was, she wasn't entirely bothered. It didn't make a difference either way; Van Pelt could, theoretically, go on a work night, if they weren't too busy, anyway.
"Thanks for the insight," Lisbon muttered, glaring at her. "Now if you don't mind…"
"Oh right, yeah," Van Pelt replied, waving the file in her direction. "I'm on it, boss."
"Good."
xxx
At approximately five p.m., there was a knock on her office door. Lisbon was pleasantly surprised to have had most of the afternoon to herself, instead of regular disturbances from a certain Patrick Jane. Van Pelt had dropped by a second time, informing her that she had gotten an ID for Alyson's stalker and probable murderer. A Nate Reilly, apparently. As she had suspected, the case was gathering momentum. It was nice, to land a nice and easy one, every so often. Of course, she never dared to vocalize the fact; she didn't want to jinx the good fortune. She was even more shocked when she realized that it was Jane himself at his door. It seemed like he actually wanted to prove he had decent manners, for a change.
"Yes, Jane?"
He handed a white envelope to her. Dubiously, she took hold of it and ripped it open. When she slid out two tickets for the touring production of Wicked, for the performances in Sacramento, that very evening, her heart sank. She had already told him she had absolutely no interest whatsoever in going. Lisbon wasn't even that surprised, really. Jane simply couldn't take no for an answer. Still, she handed them back and shook her head sadly.
"I can't accept these."
She tried to hand them back, but Jane held up his arms in protest. With a sigh, she placed them in front of her on her desk instead. It almost felt as if the tickets were staring at her, which was ridiculous considering they were an inanimate object.
"There's nothing going on with the case, not until morning, that is. Even you can spare a couple of hours, to do something social," he pleaded.
"Jane…"
"Just come with me, please?"
She averted her gaze, quickly. He sounded so genuine, especially for Jane. But the thought of the theater alone made her feel a little queasy. All she could do was think about her mother's excitement before a show.
"Don't you think your mom would be disappointed that you gave up something you so obviously loved when you were a kid?"
"That's…" she started, but quickly trailed off.
Instead of chastising him for his lack of boundaries and consideration, she thought about it. How her mom wasn't the only one who had enjoyed the shows they'd seen together, even if it was only for a brief while. Her mom had first taken her to a theater on her tenth birthday, when she had matured enough to sit through a two hour production without fidgeting. And she remembered how they dressed up before each show, how the anticipation weeks beforehand gnawed away at her. The warmth of her mother's hand as they sat side by side, engrossed in whatever production they were seeing.
He was right, in a way, she did miss it. And she had been avoiding it, simply because she didn't know who to ask to go with her. Though some people seemed to be more than happy to see shows alone, Lisbon simply couldn't imagine going without somebody else.
"Would I have to dress up?" she asked quietly.
"Well, shouldn't a girl who's so good inside, have a matching exterior?" he said, almost singing the line as he did so.
"Jane!"
"No, you'll be fine in your work clothes. Maybe leave the gun here, though."
Lisbon rolled her eyes. As if she hadn't realized that herself.
"And you'll be on your best behavior?" she questioned.
"When am I not?"
She raised an eyebrow in response.
"Contrary to popular belief, my dear Lisbon, I do know how to behave," Jane replied, "and I'd quite like to enjoy the show myself."
"Okay then," she relented. It was easier to just give in. Knowing Jane, he'd probably have tried some other trick to convince her anyway.
"Okay?"
"Fine. I'll see this damn show with you."
xxx
"This wasn't a good idea," Lisbon spoke quietly, staring at the stage. "It feels… wrong."
"You'll be fine," Jane assured her, knowing that she was struggling with conflicting thoughts and memories. "Together, we're unlimited."
She had the time to slap him gently on the arm in irritation, just before the lights went down in the auditorium.
xxx
"So, what did you think?" Jane asked as soon as they made it back to the foyer, post show, but Lisbon remained silent. "Lisbon?"
She wasn't even looking at him. Instead, her eyes were fixated on a member of the crowd. Jane looked at the man she was staring at and then it dawned on him. Van Pelt had shown him a picture of this man just hours earlier - it was Nate Reilly, the man that they were trying to track down. That was a rather serendipitous coincidence.
"Lisbon…" he started once more, but she had already taken off.
It didn't take long for Reilly to realize that somebody was on his tail and much to the disgust of the rest of the audience, he tried to make a run for it, knocking people out of his way. Lisbon was unperturbed by the crowd; she had long since grown used to making chase in busy scenarios. It made things difficult, of course, but not impossible. With practiced ease, she wove through the crowds and it wasn't long before she had the man pinned to a wall and was handcuffing him. Reilly seemed most unimpressed that he had been taken down by a woman practically half his size, and was mouthing off. Lisbon didn't care; she was just relieved she had decided to bring her handcuffs, even if she had had to forgo the gun. She knew there was a reason that she had thought she'd need them and was glad to be proven right. Keeping one arm firmly on Reilly, she dialed Cho's number with the other. Technically, she was off-duty, but she knew her second in command would be more than happy to pick their suspect up and question him.
"Oh, you just can't keep away from work, can you?" Jane grumbled after he caught up with her, clutching at his stomach. He had a stitch. "I hope you're happy."
Lisbon simply smirked in response.
xxx
"Thank you, Jane," Lisbon muttered quietly.
"I didn't hear that."
"I said, thank you," she replied grudgingly.
"I knew you'd enjoy it," he said, as he rolled onto the back of his heels. "And you even got to do some work, too!"
Lisbon didn't even bother to answer him as they watched Cho pull away, with their suspect in the back of the SUV. When she had reluctantly accepted Jane's offer, she hadn't envisaged that it would help them to get a lead in their case. Silently, she wondered if Jane actually knew that Reilly would be there. Then, she dismissed it. If he had known, then he would have used it as a bargaining chip to persuade her to come. It would have been a lot easier than his pulling at her heartstrings, after all.
When Jane slipped his hand into her own, Lisbon didn't object. For some reason, it felt almost right to do so. Silently, he guided her towards his car. Part of her wondered how the hell the Citroen was still road-worthy, but she didn't question it. Though it had taken a long while, she did actually trust Jane, with her life even. After all, he had saved her on more than one occasion and she was genuinely grateful to have him in her life. Not that she would dare tell him mind, for fear of inflating his already oversized ego.
"You know what, Lisbon?" Jane said, with a light smile. "Because I knew you, I have been changed for good."
"Sometimes, I do wonder if you've actually changed at all."
"Hey!"
"And don't you dare carry on quoting Wicked at me. I get it; it's an excellent production, okay?"
end