You've got m@il (part 3)
“I am going to meet him in an hour.”
Grace lifted her eyes from the delicious ice-cream she was eating, and looked at the new arrival- Teresa- who hadn’t even bothered to say hello before dropping the bomb on the redhead. Grave immediately shivered, and hoped that Lisbon didn’t see it or thought it was because of the sweet. She was starting to doubt her own plan. Of course, it wasn’t like it was too soon, but neither of them knew who the other was. It wasn’t supposed to go like that. She had thought that either they would have ended up saying something in the line of “Hey, by the way, my name is Patrick Jane, and I work as a consultant for the California Bureau of Investigation” and “Really? Jane, are you kidding? It’s me, Lisbon!” or that talking with each other would have… well, opened their eyes in some kind of way. But of course they couldn’t be normal. Instead of falling in love with each other, they still have dubious feelings for each other and had ended up falling in love with two perfect strangers.
She was getting scared. God only knew what Jane would have done once found out the truth. And Lisbon… well, she could renounce getting back on the job once maternity leave was over.
Grace gulped down a mouthful of saliva as she looked at a giggling and teenage Lisbon sitting right before her, eating an ice cream with a dreamy expression. God, poor Teresa was lost. She had never seen the boss behaving like that. Not even when she was dating Mashburn. And the guy was a billionaire who was ready to acknowledge her every desire. “Are you sure you want to do it? Maybe you should… I don’t know. Dial a cab to just sat there and wait for you.” Grace hoped Lisbon would fall for this. If she saw Jane, she would imagine that he had extorted her the location and, in order to avoid any embarrassment, she would just leave.
“Oh, don’t worry. We are going to meet at Marie’s. Apparently we both like it. God, do you know how many times I’ve looked around and wondered if one of the guys sitting there was him? And now I’m going to meet him!”
“Yes, but, Lisbon… are you sure?” Grace asked, suddenly concerned. Lisbon was too happy, too radiant. She liked this guy way too much for her own good. She had fallen for him- or at least, she was falling for him- and Grace wondered what place Jane still had in her heart. Was she trying to make Alexanderson into a rebound? Didn’t she love Jane any longer? And if she didn’t… how could she react, once discovered they were the same person?
Teresa nodded. “He is going to wear a red carnation in the lapel of his jacket.” She paused, and then went a little closer to her friend, a bit too conspiratorial about the whole thing. “He wears three pieces suites.” And giggled.
Grace looked at Lisbon quizzically, lifting her eyebrows. Her (former) boss didn’t understand that it was with Jane she was in love with, no matter what. Even if she had fallen for Alexanderson, it was only because he was a copy of Jane in her eyes.
“And… you’ll have a rose into a copy of your favorite book, I guess.” Grace said, eyeing the Sense and Sensibility copy Lisbon had in her lap. A White rose was well visible between the pages. “Let me guess, he thinks that red roses are too banal.” She would have gone for “sophomoric”, but she guessed Lisbon would have gotten the hint a bit too hard if she had used Jane’s favorite word.
“Well, yes.” She paused, wondering how she could tell. She hoped she hadn’t read her letters, as Grace had been the one to create the matching e-mail account. Because if she did, she would be embarrassed. There were things she had said to Alexanderson that she didn’t want her “people” to discover. “Anyway, I just wanted to tell you. And thank you, all right? Whish me good luck. Or… you know what? Don’t. After all, it’s not like it’s a date. But if it was…”
Lisbon didn’t even allow Grace to reply. The redhead sighed, and looked at her boss’ retreating form and at her own ice-cream, only half eaten. Well, she guessed she would ask Lisbon to pay for her the next time they went at that bar, because there was no way she was going to stay there, knowing that Jane and Lisbon were going on a blind date of sort at Marie’s. Damage control was in order, and apparently, it was on her.
When Jane walked out of the attic that day, Cho and Rigsby immediately noticed something different about him: the man was wearing a new suit, and was extremely uncomfortable- an adjective that they had never associated before with Jane, who was charisma walking in old three pieces suits.
“Nice attire, man.” Rigsby chuckled, whistling a little like a wolf, making fun of his long-time friend. After all, it wasn’t like Jane had never done it before with them. “You got a date?”
“Actually… yes.” He admitted, keeping taking off imaginary threads from his jacket. “I am seeing a girl I met on the internet.” He said at low voice, looking around so none other could hear him. Strange but true, he was still a little embarrassed about the whole thing. After all, he was believed to be a womanizer, and here he was, getting dates on the internet.
Rigsby barely resisted spitting his coffee, but then, once gulped down the beverage, he chuckled at the mentalist. “Oh, yeah, let me guess, she is one of those girls who put a flower in a book to be recognized.”
Jane didn’t answer, so Cho took the lead. “Is it Anna Karenina or a Jane Austen?” But his question didn’t look like… like he was really interested. Sometimes Cho made Jane shiver, he could look like one of those crazy scientists who would do anything to get the job done, like they were all subjects of a theory or an experiment. Well, he guessed it came with the military interrogator training.
“Austen. Sense and Sensibility, actually.” He admitted, hands in his pants pockets, rolling on his heels.
“Man, I can’t believe you did this, I mean…” Rigsby went a little closer, and lowered his voice. Before talking, he looked around to make sure his lovely half wasn’t anywhere. With Grace, one could never be too sure. “Did you see her? Cause if you didn’t… you know she can be a real dog, right? I mean, internet dating is for losers and freaks… ” Rigsby was going to laugh about his own statement, but then he met Cho’s stare: his cool gaze remembered him that he too had signed for internet dating in the past. Besides, It was Jane they were talking about, and as far as they knew, he wasn’t nor loser or a dog. And even if he was, Cho was pretty sure he would have hated being called such things. Especially by them.
“Listen.” Jane said, lifting his hands like in surrender. “I know all of this, all right? This is why I am going to say hello, stay ten minutes, drink a cup of tea, and then I am out of there. I just need to understand a couple of things, and I think that if I don’t meet her in person, I will never get it.”
As he said those words, Jane started to play with his ring-finger in his left hand. He knew there was no point in doing so as he had taken off his late wife’s token of love when Red John fell, but it still felt strange. He wasn’t used to not being married, to not wearing a ring. He wanted that invisible weight back, and part of him wondered if May could be the one to give this to him. Yes, Teresa had been the one he had often envisioned a life with, but now it was different. She was happy and in a relationship, and he didn’t feel like imposing himself on her.
“Ehy, man, listen, I am done here for today. Do you want me to walk you there?” Jane simply nodded, with a lost puppy expression, and Rigsby grunted in annoyance- that was a trick that could work on the ladies, but not on him. Besides, he had offered first. It wasn’t like he was going to back out of that. “Ok, let’s go.”
As they were in the elevator, Jane even stared at the stop button. Part of him even wished for the elevator to break. Was it really right? He wasn’t sure any longer. He had been the one asking her to meet, and yet now he was scared- like he had never been before. “What if she has a really high, squeaky voice like those mice in Cinderella?”
“Gus or the other one?”
Jane looked at Rigsby for a fraction of second, then turned his attention back to the control panel and huffed. He didn’t even want to know why a grown up manlike the cop - with a boy - knew the name of the mice in Cinderella. “I am starting to ask myself why am I compelled to meet her? I’m just ruining a good thing.” He paused, hands once again in his pockets. He was starting to sweat copiously for the distress he felt. “I am not going to stay long anyway. I already said that, didn’t I? I’m a total wreck. And I’m never a total wreck.”
Rigsby didn’t even bother to nod. It wasn’t like he knew what to say. He had never seen his friend in such a state before-unless it had to do with the boss. But it wasn’t like this woman could be on the same level as Lisbon, right? Because if they were, it mean that Jane was in love with Lisbon and with this woman as well, and it was impossible to love two women at the same time, right? Besides, Jane would have pursued Lisbon if he had been in love with her, and he hadn’t. He shook his head, grunting. He had to stop listening to Grace: all that soap-opera was making his heart hurt.
“This woman is the most adorable creature I have ever come in contact with. I think that she could be the one, you know? I think I don’t care how she looks like, even if she turns out to be as good-looking as a mailbox. Part of me thinks that I have to turn my life upside down and, you know, just marry her.” Jane finally said as they reached their destination, shrugging, and then, once arrived at Marie’s, he looked at the window, but as soon as he took the first step, he stopped, and turned to face Rigsby once more. “Go to the window and check her out.”
“Man, you are a wreck.” Wayne shook his head, and then took the few steps that separated him from the window, and he looked inside, searching for a table that held a book with a flower. “Ok…let me see… no, no, she is beautiful but she doesn’t have a book… no, no… ehy! I got a book with a flower in it! A white rose, I think?”
“Yes! That’s her! What does she look like?” Jane asked, getting at Rigsby’s side and watching inside too.
“Hang on, there is a waiter right before her, so I can’t see her face. He is serving her a cup of something, and she is putting two spoonful of sugar in it.” Jane glared at him, like to ask why he felt it was relevant the quantity of sugar the mystery lady was putting in her beverage- but what could he expect from Rigsby, a man who based a good part of his life on food? “Ehy, maybe she has hypoglycemia. It could be bad for her.” Rigsby tried to explain himself as soon as he met Jane’s gaze. He absolutely hated, and felt slightly humiliated, when people judged him because of his dedication to food.
“Just tell me if you can see her, will you?” Jane crossed his arms, and when they eyes met, Rigsby knew that it was an order. And if there was one thing he had learnt in the last decade or so, it was that he wasn’t supposed to mess with Jane when he ordered people around. He was vengeful, after all.
“Ok, the waiter is moving and…” Rigsby looked once, twice, then he turned to face Jane, then he looked again at the window, gulping down a mouthful of saliva. It couldn’t be. It was impossible. And yet… all the pieces were suddenly in the right place. “Well… she is… pretty.” He said, blushing with a bit of embarrassment.
Jane grinned, chuckling. “Oh, well, not that I cared, but let me tell you, I always knew she would be. She had to be.”
“She looks…” Rigsby paused, then turned towards Jane. He was kind of torn because of this new revelation. Until a second before, he had wanted to tell Jane to just turn on his heels and run, but now things had drastically changed, and escaping wasn’t an option any longer. “I hope you find the boss attractive, Jane.”
Jane lifted his eyebrows. “Lisbon? Why?” He suddenly shivered. He was starting to feel guilty, like he was in a relationship with Lisbon and he was going to cheat on her. Was that what Rigsby was trying to tell him? Or maybe not. It probably was all in his head. He was just being paranoid, like his usual. And Rigsby was being just Rigsby, and who knew what he really meant with that statement.
“Because if you don’t like the boss, I can tell you right now you are not going to like this girl.” Rigsby paused, again looking at Jane and then at the boss and then Jane again. “Because, Jane, I hate to tell you this, but… she is the boss.”
Jane elbowed him in the ribs to make him move- quite painfully, but he didn’t care- and he stared inside. Sat at a table for two, there was Teresa, drinking coffee and with Sense and Sensibility and a rose between its page on the table. He could say from such a distance that she was starting to get uncomfortable, she was even checking her watch again and again. Foolish woman, he thought grinning, what did he tell her about the kettle?
“So, are you going to make her just wait here, after all those amazing things you said she wrote you?” Rigsby asked, suddenly serious. But Jane could see he wasn’t being judgmental. He would accept his choice, and kept it secret. Jane took a step back, and started to walk on the concrete, hands in his pockets, head low. He kept taking big breaths, mentally talking himself in going inside and then in leaving her there with an excuse, and he also wondered about how he could make Grace pay for this little stunt.
He took the red carnation between his fingers, and then he hid it in his jacket pocket, and without adding a sole word… he marched inside Marie’s, going to sit at Lisbon’s like it was the most natural thing in the whole wide world. Like he belonged there. Teresa wasn’t exactly looking in that instant, focused on the menu and her watch, but when she finally decided to lift her eyes, she was met by his stunning, mischievous smile.
“Hello, Lisbon. What a coincidence. Mind if I sit down?” She stared at him. Jane was just… Jane. Why was he asking, since he had already made himself at home? And then, like he owned the place and her life, without bothering to ask he went for her book. “Oh, nice. Sense and Sensibility. You know, I never truly pictured you as a Jane Austen fan…”
Teresa grabbed the book back, and then she put it back on the table, one hand on it in order to avoid having Jane taking it back again. After all, Alexanderson was going to arrive soon, she couldn’t risk him not seeing the book, or worse, seeing her with another man- especially one who wasn’t interested in pursuing a relationship with her and had accidentally forgotten his declaration of love.
“I always thought you were more the racy romance novels kind of woman-you know, Harlequin, that sort of stuff where the female lead would put a flower between the pages of a book to signal her presence to her lover- and maybe crime books when you are forced to take a leave from the job. BUT I bet you read this book more than once a year, that you love Mr. Edward and that your heart beats wildly at the idea that he and whatever her name is are really, honestly and truly going to end up together. Like every time you read it, it could change. The finale still amazes you after all this time, doesn’t it?”
“Jane…” She took a big breath. He could see worry lines on her forehead. Oh, he was such a bastard, but he was having such a fun! And yes, he wanted to feel the waters too. “Jane, I am waiting for a friend. Do you mind leaving?”
“I think I’ll get up as soon as your friend comes. Is he late?”
She shivered, she didn’t want to know how he was supposed to know she was meeting a man. Oh well, he was the Patrick Jane, after all. He always knew everything, and what he didn’t know… he deduced it.
“Edward’s love interest is Elinor, and just for the record, I think that she and Marianne are two of the greatest characters ever written. Not that you would know.”
Jane grunted. He didn’t like this last affirmation. Ok, he never went to school as all the other children did, but he wasn’t stupid. He had learnt on his own. Worked hard to get where he was today, and she shouldn’t insult him for something that, basically, wasn’t his fault- if there was someone to blame, it was his mother, who abandoned him, and daddy dearest, who only cared about the money his son could bring into the household.
“Just for the record,” he said, quoting her like a parrot just to annoy Lisbon. “I’ve read it. And I think, Lisbon, that if you would try to really get to know me, you’d discover a lot of things you can’t even fathom right now.”
She snorted- it was so un-lady lake, but she didn’t care. She was fed up with him and his idiocies. “Ah. I think I got to know you well enough in over ten years, Jane, and what I know is that you are a self-centered egoistical jerk with control issues who doesn’t care about the others. Whatever to get the job done, right? And the hell with the consequences. It doesn’t matter if you get the others in trouble, doesn’t matter who you leave behind, you must be proven the smartest in the room, always. While the man I am here to see… he is completely unlike you. He is kind and funny and has a great sense of humor and… and there is not a cruel or careless bone in his body. But I can’t expect you to know anything about a person like that.” Teresa took a big breath, and smiled a little of a cynic smile. She took a big breath again, suddenly realizing what she had actually said, and then looked away. She knew that she had just crossed a line, and that was it. “Jane…sorry, I didn’t mean…”
He shook his head, looking at his hands on the tablecloth. “No need, Lisbon. You just told me what you thought. And you know what? This is my cue to leave. Good night. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
He left, and once outside, he dropped the carnation in a trashcan with such an anger he had never felt before. But he guessed it wasn’t all her fault. He had taken her for granted, after all, believed that she was always going to forgive and forget. Now it was pay time. But… but he loved her. He loved her as Teresa and he loved her as May, and even if right now there was no chance to make them work out…
He would think of something. He needed to get Teresa back as a friend- so that she could, one day, be his- as a friend or a lover, it didn’t matter. He just knew that: he needed her in his life.
When Teresa got home, she felt like dying; grunting, she fell on her bed, still fully clothed, the book at her side. She was frustrated because of what Alexanderson had done to her, but mostly, she felt bad for the words she had said to Jane. He didn’t deserved them,: she hadn’t been fair to him. Yes, he used unusual methods, and no one stood after he passed, like an hurricane, but he solved cases. He helped people out. Got justice for the victims, and closure for the families.
But…
But he had been a bigger pain than usual lately- just in a different kind of way. Or maybe it was just because she didn’t understand him any longer. He was hot and cold, and she could never say what could go through his mind at any given moment. He was a mystery, an enigma, something-someone - she still didn’t know how to handle any longer; and that after more than ten years that they had been partnered together.
She looked at her computer, and decided to be proactive about this whole thing. She needed to know- or maybe just understand -why Alexanderson had stood her up, and she needed someone to talk to. Of course, she could have talked with Grace about it, but, as much as she cared about the red-head, it was this man she needed right now. She had to risk it, even if he wasn’t going to answer.
To: Alexanderson
I am thinking about you. I just went to meet you, and you weren’t there. I wish I knew why. I felt so foolish. And as I waited, someone else showed up, a man who has made my life so much difficult- I think I may have already mentioned him -and I was able, for the first time in my life, to say the exact thing I wanted to say. and of course, afterwards I felt horrible, just as you said I would. I was cruel, and I’m never cruel. And, I don’t know if what I said mattered to him, but if it did… no matter what he did to me, there is no excuse for my behavior.
It’s just that, you are my dear friend, and I wanted to talk with you. I hope you had a good reason for not being there, but if you don’t, and we never connect again, I just want to tell you how much it has meant to me to know you were out there. Goodbye.
As soon as the mail arrived, Jane saw the blinking light on the screen flashing right before his eyes. He stared at it, one hand under his chin in contemplation, he didn’t even dare to open it. He was torn. Yes, he had a plan, but he didn’t know if he was ready to fulfill it. Most of what he had in mind depended of what Teresa was going to tell him in her missive, and yet, knowing this simple fact, he was scared. Did she deserve Patrick Jane? Did she deserve Alexanderson?
He took off, and went in the kitchen, the computer still on and still blinking; he went through the refrigerator, the fridge, every shutter, but he didn’t find anything that could hold his interest, not even tea. Sighing, he went back to his bedroom, and put on his pajama, but yet, he still could see in his peripheral vision the computer. He tried to battle the instinct and the desire to write her, to read the letter, because he was still too confused about their feelings. But at the end, he lost the battle, and he went to sit at the small table, he inserted his password once more, and resisting the urge to slap his own face and call himself an idiot, he read the whole thing. Again. And again. And again. So many times he actually lost count.
And then, he started typing his reply.
I am in Vancouver right now
He sighed, and deleted the whole thing. He could lie, but this was just too big. Teresa would have immediately understood it wasn’t the truth. Struck by sudden inspiration, he started to type once more.
I was struck in a meeting, which I couldn’t get out of, and there was no phone.
He erased once more the last part of the sentence, knowing that the devil and the lie were in the details. He wondered, though, if she wasn’t going to suspect foul play too if he were to be too vague, so he decided to add a little something, just to make sure.
The electricity went out in the building and we were trapped on the 18th floor. Amazingly enough, the telephone system blew too.
He sighed and literally hit his head against the wood, frustrated. It didn’t go. Too many details, and besides, she didn’t deserve a lie- she was getting enough of them as it was - so he lifted his head and backspaced the whole thing, erasing every single letter. It was time to change approach.
Dear friend, I cannot tell you what happened to me last night, but I beg you from the bottom of my heart to forgive me for not being there.
He shook his head, and deleted some more. Not the whole thing- the beginning was good, and promising.
… to forgive me for what happened. I feel terrible that you found yourself in a situation that caused you additional pain. But I am absolutely sure that whatever you said last night was provoked, even deserved. And everyone says thing they regret when they are worried or stressed. You were expecting to see someone you trusted, and met the enemy instead. The fault is mine. Someday, I will explain everything, but now I am still here. So…
Talk to me. Write to me.
With a little smile, Jane turned off his computer. Now it was time to sleep. And starting tomorrow, he would have started to repay whatever damage he had done to Teresa’s affection for him. He knew there was room for improvement, now. He just had to be patient, and have a good timing.
A couple of days later, Grace decided that she needed to talk with Lisbon to understand a couple of things. After the “non-date”, Rigsby had come home, and told her, laughing, what had happened. All because he didn’t know she had been the one to set them up. At first, she had wanted to follow them at Marie’s, but then she had given up, fearing being discovered, but now, she needed to know how much Lisbon knew of this “indiscretion”. Teresa was her good friend, she didn’t want to lose her, even if she had acted in her interest.
While she was walking to her (former) boss’ office, her eyes fell on Jane’s couch. He was faking sleep as often, and he grinned a bit when he understood she was there -she didn’t even want to know how he knew that it was her and not someone else. Grace trembled, because that expression screamed volumes. He knew. Of course he knew, he wasn’t an idiot, after all. Now all she had to see was how much he was going to make her pay. But right now, everything seemed calm. If nothing, Jane was a man who believed that vengeance was served best cold, when your opponent wasn’t expecting it any longer. Just because they were friends and part of a surrogate family of sort it didn’t mean he was going to make an exception. Far from it.
She composed herself, and walked directly on the door, entering only after being given permission- she wasn’t Jane- and then smiled at Teresa. She didn’t go to seat before Lisbon’s desk, but immediately on the couch, once received a warm smile from her friend. She also decided to avoid beating around the bush. There was no reason to, after all. She knew that Alexanderson had stood Teresa up. Now all she wanted to see was what Teresa had in mind for “lover boy”.
“By the way, he wrote me back.” Teresa said, offering Grace a cup of tea, few minutes later. The redhead almost chocked.
“And… uhm… did he say anything about meeting again?” she was blushing, her eyes going every now and then to Jane, still busy “napping” on his couch in the bullpen. She hated him. Why did he have to make everything so damn difficult?
“Not really, but it doesn’t matter. We’ll just be like George Bernard Shaw and Mrs. Patrick Campbell, and write letters to each other our whole lives.”
Grace laughed a little, giggling like a silly teenager. “And you’ll try to sell them when he’ll tell you his secret identity, and you’ll discover that he is, in truth, a billionaire or some rich guy?” She put down her cup, and, hands in her lap, she looked at Teresa, quite seriously. “Maybe you got lucky and you don’t know it yet. Maybe he is a convicted felon.”
But Teresa just shook her head.
“No. He wasn’t there for a good reason. I know it. I don’t care about it- but I know that one day he will tell me- face to face.” Grace sighed. The dreamy- and girly- expression on Teresa’s face was full of promises, but yet, everything could still go wrong. After all, it was all up to Patrick Jane now.
So, as Jane and Lisbon were, very slowly, rekindling their friendship, May Flower and Alexanderson kept writing to each other. The mentalist did his best to keep the letters vague, sure that, now that he knew of Lisbon’s secret identity of sort, she would be soon finding out the truth about him too. It didn’t make any sense, of course, but still, he feared that she would discover this little secret and break up with both versions of her secret admirer.
And yet, it wasn’t enough- it was never enough, not when every step he took, he took also two steps back. Because for every sweet word, every nice action, he also did something awful, relatively speaking, of course, and she got mad at him because her boss got mad with her because of him. It was an endless circle he didn’t know how to break. He wasn’t even sure he wanted to actually break it. Yes, he hated that Teresa was permanently mad with him, but she was supposed to know that he worked in a certain way, and that his way of doing things usually generated troubles for law enforcements. Yes, he was a closer, but the cases he closed had never been bullet (and sue) free.
But now, he feared he had screwed up a bit too much. He trembled, sweated, fearing that his whole plan was falling right before his eyes. Because Lisbon, once again, wasn’t at the office. She hadn’t been there in a couple of days, and she wasn’t even answering to Alexanderson’s emails. She wasn’t reaching out to complain, either. He was getting worried. Maybe she was mad. Or maybe it was worse. Maybe she was hurt. Maybe something bad had happened to her and people didn’t want to tell him. Hell, maybe she had decided to pull to follow an hunch in some case or the other, and now she was all alone somewhere, trapped in the cellar of some crazy psycho.
Without even answering to Rigsby’s question, he turned, and run down the stairs. He reached his Citroen, and even if Lisbon’s usual words- “Don’t run or you’ll get yourself killed” - kept repeating in his mind, he didn’t mind them. He just couldn’t, not when he didn’t know what had happened to her. Her place was over half an hour from the CBI at a normal speed, but he got there in half the time, given or taken. When he reached her place, he could listen to very loud music coming from her apartment, and shivered, thinking that maybe a killer had put that on so that her cries for help couldn’t be listened. He didn’t even knocked at her door or rang her doorbell, so sure something had happened to her. He simply picked up the lock and ran inside.
Where he found Lisbon in pajama and with a huge, old and yet adorable robe, curled on her couch.
“Jane?” She asked, sniffing, her nose bright red.
“Lisbon?” He parroted, eyes wide. Smiling like an idiot, he went to her, and was opening his arms to take her in, carried away by the happiness of seeing her alive and well, but she stopped him before he could get any closer.
“I have a terrible cold, Jane, I am sniffing and I am not sure I am really awake… I am sleeping twenty-four hours a day and I am taking Echinacea and C vitamin, so I would really appreciate if you could take few steps back... or if you could come some other time altogether.” He gave her a pointed look-the one that meant that she was saying something silly in his opinion- so she decided to let it go. After all, there was no way to reason with Patrick Jane. She was supposed to know better by now. Maybe he wasn’t going to let her sleep, but she could do with the peace and quiet. “What are you doing here, Jane?”
“I was worried.” He explained. She felt a little bad as she saw his painful expression. Jane wasn’t… he was… though and a bit cynic, but not a bad man. And he always feared the worst, after what had happened to his family. She should have told him. Or told someone to tell him. She felt a bit guilty. “What are you doing?” He asked like he was a little child.
“I was looking at the Home Shopping network. And don’t worry: I resisted the temptation of spending my whole salary on porcelain dolls.” She explained. A brunette was on video at her back, selling the ugliest shoes they had ever seen in their whole life, brown and gold and with metal things and weird heels. “Now you know I am alright and watching television. Goodbye?” She was sick. She felt bad. She didn’t want anyone around, and it had nothing to do with him.
Jane didn’t even answer her, he just made his way towards the kitchen, and put everything in working order for getting a couple of cups of tea like it was his own place. He was even chuckling. He didn’t care how much Lisbon was grunting. Now he had discovered her little secret, that at home she had become quite the tea lover. He had rubbed on her in the right ways. There was definitely working ground, considering how much of a coffee addicted she had always been..
“You are sick. Sit down on that couch of yours, please, woman.” She rolled her eyes and snorted, but she still did as she was told. Before she knew it, he was back, sitting at her side with two mugs of hot tea.
“I am sorry for the other day, at Marie’s. I was upset, and I have been horrible to you.” She said, so low it seemed almost a whisper. She was getting red on her cheeks, and he wondered if it was because of the fever, the hot tea or because she felt embarrassed after such a confession.
Jane shook his head, his eyes were small, and Lisbon knew that look all too well. He wasn’t just sad, he was feeling guilty. She hated when he felt like that, all she wanted in those moments was to take him in her arms and lull him to sleep while caressing his hair. “I was horrible, Lisbon. You, my dear, were charming, trust me.”
“I know, but I still think that I have no excuses for my behavior.” She leaned her head against the pillows of the couch, sighing. She could feel him grinning, she didn’t know how it was possible, but she knew it was exactly what he was doing in that moment.
“Are you saying I am a horrible person so I have no choice but to be horrible?” He asked. He chuckled, and once put down the cup, he leaned against the back of the couch, hands behind his head. “I think you are entitled to be mad with me, Lisbon. I know that after we got Red John I haven’t been…” He paused and took a big breath, struggling to find the right words. “I think my old self, the one you thought I could be. If you were… are mad with me, I deserve it. With the suspension, the unpaid overtime you had to do because of me… and just in the last few months, let’s say I get it. And I don’t blame you. I know I can be difficult. But, that’s who I am. And we always both knew it.” He smiled at her, and she smiled a bit in return- the “shy schoolgirl” kind of smile - and she knew he understood why she was mad with him and he accepted it.
“I just hope” he said, patting her hand “that you’ll not be like Elizabeth, and you’ll eventually find in your heart to forgive me.” Lisbon didn’t answer him, she was just lifting her eyebrows and connecting all the known dots in her brain. Elizabeth? Who was she? When had he talked about her? Was she the mysterious woman he had been often texting lately?
“Now, now, Teresa, Sense and Sensibility may be your dirty pleasure, but I know that you secretly love Austen’s whole work. So, no, I don’t buy, not even for a moment, that you aren’t familiar with Elizabeth Bennet, from Pride and Prejudice. I always thought that she was too proud…”
Lisbon stood still, surprised. “Jane, you hate Jane Austen.” She underlined the word “hate”, almost spelling out the whole sentence. But he wasn’t even listening to her. Like often, he seemed to be in his own world, and he kept talking from where she had stopped him.
“Or maybe she was the one with the Prejudices and Darcy was too proud. I can never remember.” He stopped, and looked at Lisbon, slightly irritated before him. She wasn’t talking, her eyes were closed and she was taking big breaths to calm herself down. “What?” He asked. He was getting annoyed. He hadn’t done anything wrong yet. Yes, he had “interrupted” her, but he had done it for a good cause. He had been worried for her. And she knew it. He really didn’t understood why she was mad with him now.
She sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Jane, my head is starting to get funny. I just want to get back to bed…” She started to walk to her room, knowing that if he wanted he could let himself out on his own. But then, when she was already halfway on the stairs, she stopped, and turned to look at him. Her consultant was still on the couch, looking at her retreating form. She didn’t know if he was waiting for her to get to her room to leave, or if he wanted to go through her things. “Did I ask you why you were here? I forgot it..”
“I was worried, Lisbon” He said, and then paused. “And because I want to be your friend.”
“Oh.” She blushed in surprise. It wasn’t like she didn’t know that they were sort of friends. But sometimes she forgot it. It was because of how careless he got when on the job. And it was what she had told him at Marie’s, after all.
“Lisbon? Will you get mad if I ask you what happened to the guy you were supposed to meet at Marie’s?” She shrugged, and didn’t say a word. But Jane wasn’t an idiot. He knew she was kind of disappointed. He felt a bit bad about it, but it had to be done. If he wanted her, he needed to be her friend again, first, fully and completely. “But I thought you were- I correct myself, you are crazy about him.”
He was speaking with that tone he always used when he wanted to show her his reasoning in a case. She hated when he did that, behaving like she was a naïve idiot who couldn’t close a case on her own. She decided that she would be childish, and that she didn’t care. She glared at Jane, gave him her back and stormed in her room, slamming the door behind her. Not that he got the message. Half a minute later, while she was already underneath the red sheets he was already in her room. He was behaving like it was his own place. God, how much she hated him at times.
“Lisbon, if you are that crazy about him- and don’t deny it because I know you are- what are you waiting for to run away in sunset with this guy?” Completely under the sheets, Lisbon mumbled something. Someone else would have never guessed her answer, but Jane was Jane- and after all, even if she didn’t know it, she was speaking about him. “I’m sorry, can you repeat it? I didn’t get the last part…” He was mocking her, the bastard. She was two minutes flat from taking her gun and fire at him. Repeatedly. In the legs. So that he could die a slow and painful death. She could even probably go away with murder for this one. No jury could convict her, not after everything he had done to her and her sanity. And even if they did, she was sure that Cho would have never abandoned her. She smiled despite herself, picturing her second in command visiting her in jail with cigarettes to trade in for favors.
“I said” she screamed at the top of her lugs once she had left once again her bed and was pointing an accusing finger right in his mischievous eyes’ direction. “I said that I don’t know him. That I never met him if not on the internet!”
But his remark never came, which worried Lisbon. It was strange. She was expecting at least a “pathetic”, but it never came. Instead, what he said, was. “I am happy for the two of you. Although… can I ask you why don’t you set another date to meet? No, wait-another question altogether. Why do you think you should meet him?”
He had gone to seat on the edge of her bed, one hand was on a pillow, the other was running its fingers on the soft Egyptian red sheets. Lisbon wanted to gasp, she was blushing, hit by the sudden intimacy of the situation. She didn’t know what to say. So she said the first thing that came to mind.
“I’m not sure you are the best candidate to give me dating advice, Jane, after all…”
It was the truth, though. Yes, he had been married, but it had happened over ten years before. And he had met his wife through “the job”, when they were teenager sweethearts. After that, it was a huge collection of murderers, mistresses of serial killers and Kristina Frey-which wasn’t exactly normal, given that she had toyed with a serial killer well knowing what he was capable of and how vengeful he could be.
But Jane didn’t like her remark too much, so, before she could move on with the sentence, he clapped his left hand over her mouth. She felt like sighing. He wasn’t being forceful, it seemed like he was tender and gentle. His palm was warm and big, she felt like burning where he was touching her. But then, she shivered. She had felt his naked ring finger. Of course, she had known he had taken it off, but that had been on a rational level. This, feeling on her own this new reality, the knowledge that Jane wanted to move on, was different.
“Lisbon, we both know that if you’ll end this sentence you’ll feel bad for at least a month, and then you’ll come to me asking for forgiveness, so let’s avoid wasting time, all right?” Smiling, she nodded, and answering in kind, he removed the hand. “Good girl. Now, get well soon, all right? But take care of yourself first, and don’t come back to the office before it’s the right time.”
He smiled and left, feeling suddenly a little embarrassed; he put his hands in his pockets, because he didn’t know what to do with them- actually, he did, but he feared Lisbon wouldn’t agree with his decision to hug and kiss. Not now, and especially not when she was sick. “Ok. I guess…goodbye?” He was asking her. Why was he asking her? It didn’t make any sense. He hated how she could make him lose it. And at the same time, he loved it.
“Goodbye.” She said, smiling, putting herself to sleep, a small sigh of beatitude escaping her parted lips. “And thanks for the tea.”
Jane was right, though. She was going to send another mail to Alexanderson. And she was going to tell him she wanted to meet him. That they just had to.
And Jane, unknowingly to her, smiled. Alexanderson was going to be there, the next time. He wasn’t going to deny her - or himself- this any longer.
Grace lifted her eyes from the delicious ice-cream she was eating, and looked at the new arrival- Teresa- who hadn’t even bothered to say hello before dropping the bomb on the redhead. Grave immediately shivered, and hoped that Lisbon didn’t see it or thought it was because of the sweet. She was starting to doubt her own plan. Of course, it wasn’t like it was too soon, but neither of them knew who the other was. It wasn’t supposed to go like that. She had thought that either they would have ended up saying something in the line of “Hey, by the way, my name is Patrick Jane, and I work as a consultant for the California Bureau of Investigation” and “Really? Jane, are you kidding? It’s me, Lisbon!” or that talking with each other would have… well, opened their eyes in some kind of way. But of course they couldn’t be normal. Instead of falling in love with each other, they still have dubious feelings for each other and had ended up falling in love with two perfect strangers.
She was getting scared. God only knew what Jane would have done once found out the truth. And Lisbon… well, she could renounce getting back on the job once maternity leave was over.
Grace gulped down a mouthful of saliva as she looked at a giggling and teenage Lisbon sitting right before her, eating an ice cream with a dreamy expression. God, poor Teresa was lost. She had never seen the boss behaving like that. Not even when she was dating Mashburn. And the guy was a billionaire who was ready to acknowledge her every desire. “Are you sure you want to do it? Maybe you should… I don’t know. Dial a cab to just sat there and wait for you.” Grace hoped Lisbon would fall for this. If she saw Jane, she would imagine that he had extorted her the location and, in order to avoid any embarrassment, she would just leave.
“Oh, don’t worry. We are going to meet at Marie’s. Apparently we both like it. God, do you know how many times I’ve looked around and wondered if one of the guys sitting there was him? And now I’m going to meet him!”
“Yes, but, Lisbon… are you sure?” Grace asked, suddenly concerned. Lisbon was too happy, too radiant. She liked this guy way too much for her own good. She had fallen for him- or at least, she was falling for him- and Grace wondered what place Jane still had in her heart. Was she trying to make Alexanderson into a rebound? Didn’t she love Jane any longer? And if she didn’t… how could she react, once discovered they were the same person?
Teresa nodded. “He is going to wear a red carnation in the lapel of his jacket.” She paused, and then went a little closer to her friend, a bit too conspiratorial about the whole thing. “He wears three pieces suites.” And giggled.
Grace looked at Lisbon quizzically, lifting her eyebrows. Her (former) boss didn’t understand that it was with Jane she was in love with, no matter what. Even if she had fallen for Alexanderson, it was only because he was a copy of Jane in her eyes.
“And… you’ll have a rose into a copy of your favorite book, I guess.” Grace said, eyeing the Sense and Sensibility copy Lisbon had in her lap. A White rose was well visible between the pages. “Let me guess, he thinks that red roses are too banal.” She would have gone for “sophomoric”, but she guessed Lisbon would have gotten the hint a bit too hard if she had used Jane’s favorite word.
“Well, yes.” She paused, wondering how she could tell. She hoped she hadn’t read her letters, as Grace had been the one to create the matching e-mail account. Because if she did, she would be embarrassed. There were things she had said to Alexanderson that she didn’t want her “people” to discover. “Anyway, I just wanted to tell you. And thank you, all right? Whish me good luck. Or… you know what? Don’t. After all, it’s not like it’s a date. But if it was…”
Lisbon didn’t even allow Grace to reply. The redhead sighed, and looked at her boss’ retreating form and at her own ice-cream, only half eaten. Well, she guessed she would ask Lisbon to pay for her the next time they went at that bar, because there was no way she was going to stay there, knowing that Jane and Lisbon were going on a blind date of sort at Marie’s. Damage control was in order, and apparently, it was on her.
When Jane walked out of the attic that day, Cho and Rigsby immediately noticed something different about him: the man was wearing a new suit, and was extremely uncomfortable- an adjective that they had never associated before with Jane, who was charisma walking in old three pieces suits.
“Nice attire, man.” Rigsby chuckled, whistling a little like a wolf, making fun of his long-time friend. After all, it wasn’t like Jane had never done it before with them. “You got a date?”
“Actually… yes.” He admitted, keeping taking off imaginary threads from his jacket. “I am seeing a girl I met on the internet.” He said at low voice, looking around so none other could hear him. Strange but true, he was still a little embarrassed about the whole thing. After all, he was believed to be a womanizer, and here he was, getting dates on the internet.
Rigsby barely resisted spitting his coffee, but then, once gulped down the beverage, he chuckled at the mentalist. “Oh, yeah, let me guess, she is one of those girls who put a flower in a book to be recognized.”
Jane didn’t answer, so Cho took the lead. “Is it Anna Karenina or a Jane Austen?” But his question didn’t look like… like he was really interested. Sometimes Cho made Jane shiver, he could look like one of those crazy scientists who would do anything to get the job done, like they were all subjects of a theory or an experiment. Well, he guessed it came with the military interrogator training.
“Austen. Sense and Sensibility, actually.” He admitted, hands in his pants pockets, rolling on his heels.
“Man, I can’t believe you did this, I mean…” Rigsby went a little closer, and lowered his voice. Before talking, he looked around to make sure his lovely half wasn’t anywhere. With Grace, one could never be too sure. “Did you see her? Cause if you didn’t… you know she can be a real dog, right? I mean, internet dating is for losers and freaks… ” Rigsby was going to laugh about his own statement, but then he met Cho’s stare: his cool gaze remembered him that he too had signed for internet dating in the past. Besides, It was Jane they were talking about, and as far as they knew, he wasn’t nor loser or a dog. And even if he was, Cho was pretty sure he would have hated being called such things. Especially by them.
“Listen.” Jane said, lifting his hands like in surrender. “I know all of this, all right? This is why I am going to say hello, stay ten minutes, drink a cup of tea, and then I am out of there. I just need to understand a couple of things, and I think that if I don’t meet her in person, I will never get it.”
As he said those words, Jane started to play with his ring-finger in his left hand. He knew there was no point in doing so as he had taken off his late wife’s token of love when Red John fell, but it still felt strange. He wasn’t used to not being married, to not wearing a ring. He wanted that invisible weight back, and part of him wondered if May could be the one to give this to him. Yes, Teresa had been the one he had often envisioned a life with, but now it was different. She was happy and in a relationship, and he didn’t feel like imposing himself on her.
“Ehy, man, listen, I am done here for today. Do you want me to walk you there?” Jane simply nodded, with a lost puppy expression, and Rigsby grunted in annoyance- that was a trick that could work on the ladies, but not on him. Besides, he had offered first. It wasn’t like he was going to back out of that. “Ok, let’s go.”
As they were in the elevator, Jane even stared at the stop button. Part of him even wished for the elevator to break. Was it really right? He wasn’t sure any longer. He had been the one asking her to meet, and yet now he was scared- like he had never been before. “What if she has a really high, squeaky voice like those mice in Cinderella?”
“Gus or the other one?”
Jane looked at Rigsby for a fraction of second, then turned his attention back to the control panel and huffed. He didn’t even want to know why a grown up manlike the cop - with a boy - knew the name of the mice in Cinderella. “I am starting to ask myself why am I compelled to meet her? I’m just ruining a good thing.” He paused, hands once again in his pockets. He was starting to sweat copiously for the distress he felt. “I am not going to stay long anyway. I already said that, didn’t I? I’m a total wreck. And I’m never a total wreck.”
Rigsby didn’t even bother to nod. It wasn’t like he knew what to say. He had never seen his friend in such a state before-unless it had to do with the boss. But it wasn’t like this woman could be on the same level as Lisbon, right? Because if they were, it mean that Jane was in love with Lisbon and with this woman as well, and it was impossible to love two women at the same time, right? Besides, Jane would have pursued Lisbon if he had been in love with her, and he hadn’t. He shook his head, grunting. He had to stop listening to Grace: all that soap-opera was making his heart hurt.
“This woman is the most adorable creature I have ever come in contact with. I think that she could be the one, you know? I think I don’t care how she looks like, even if she turns out to be as good-looking as a mailbox. Part of me thinks that I have to turn my life upside down and, you know, just marry her.” Jane finally said as they reached their destination, shrugging, and then, once arrived at Marie’s, he looked at the window, but as soon as he took the first step, he stopped, and turned to face Rigsby once more. “Go to the window and check her out.”
“Man, you are a wreck.” Wayne shook his head, and then took the few steps that separated him from the window, and he looked inside, searching for a table that held a book with a flower. “Ok…let me see… no, no, she is beautiful but she doesn’t have a book… no, no… ehy! I got a book with a flower in it! A white rose, I think?”
“Yes! That’s her! What does she look like?” Jane asked, getting at Rigsby’s side and watching inside too.
“Hang on, there is a waiter right before her, so I can’t see her face. He is serving her a cup of something, and she is putting two spoonful of sugar in it.” Jane glared at him, like to ask why he felt it was relevant the quantity of sugar the mystery lady was putting in her beverage- but what could he expect from Rigsby, a man who based a good part of his life on food? “Ehy, maybe she has hypoglycemia. It could be bad for her.” Rigsby tried to explain himself as soon as he met Jane’s gaze. He absolutely hated, and felt slightly humiliated, when people judged him because of his dedication to food.
“Just tell me if you can see her, will you?” Jane crossed his arms, and when they eyes met, Rigsby knew that it was an order. And if there was one thing he had learnt in the last decade or so, it was that he wasn’t supposed to mess with Jane when he ordered people around. He was vengeful, after all.
“Ok, the waiter is moving and…” Rigsby looked once, twice, then he turned to face Jane, then he looked again at the window, gulping down a mouthful of saliva. It couldn’t be. It was impossible. And yet… all the pieces were suddenly in the right place. “Well… she is… pretty.” He said, blushing with a bit of embarrassment.
Jane grinned, chuckling. “Oh, well, not that I cared, but let me tell you, I always knew she would be. She had to be.”
“She looks…” Rigsby paused, then turned towards Jane. He was kind of torn because of this new revelation. Until a second before, he had wanted to tell Jane to just turn on his heels and run, but now things had drastically changed, and escaping wasn’t an option any longer. “I hope you find the boss attractive, Jane.”
Jane lifted his eyebrows. “Lisbon? Why?” He suddenly shivered. He was starting to feel guilty, like he was in a relationship with Lisbon and he was going to cheat on her. Was that what Rigsby was trying to tell him? Or maybe not. It probably was all in his head. He was just being paranoid, like his usual. And Rigsby was being just Rigsby, and who knew what he really meant with that statement.
“Because if you don’t like the boss, I can tell you right now you are not going to like this girl.” Rigsby paused, again looking at Jane and then at the boss and then Jane again. “Because, Jane, I hate to tell you this, but… she is the boss.”
Jane elbowed him in the ribs to make him move- quite painfully, but he didn’t care- and he stared inside. Sat at a table for two, there was Teresa, drinking coffee and with Sense and Sensibility and a rose between its page on the table. He could say from such a distance that she was starting to get uncomfortable, she was even checking her watch again and again. Foolish woman, he thought grinning, what did he tell her about the kettle?
“So, are you going to make her just wait here, after all those amazing things you said she wrote you?” Rigsby asked, suddenly serious. But Jane could see he wasn’t being judgmental. He would accept his choice, and kept it secret. Jane took a step back, and started to walk on the concrete, hands in his pockets, head low. He kept taking big breaths, mentally talking himself in going inside and then in leaving her there with an excuse, and he also wondered about how he could make Grace pay for this little stunt.
He took the red carnation between his fingers, and then he hid it in his jacket pocket, and without adding a sole word… he marched inside Marie’s, going to sit at Lisbon’s like it was the most natural thing in the whole wide world. Like he belonged there. Teresa wasn’t exactly looking in that instant, focused on the menu and her watch, but when she finally decided to lift her eyes, she was met by his stunning, mischievous smile.
“Hello, Lisbon. What a coincidence. Mind if I sit down?” She stared at him. Jane was just… Jane. Why was he asking, since he had already made himself at home? And then, like he owned the place and her life, without bothering to ask he went for her book. “Oh, nice. Sense and Sensibility. You know, I never truly pictured you as a Jane Austen fan…”
Teresa grabbed the book back, and then she put it back on the table, one hand on it in order to avoid having Jane taking it back again. After all, Alexanderson was going to arrive soon, she couldn’t risk him not seeing the book, or worse, seeing her with another man- especially one who wasn’t interested in pursuing a relationship with her and had accidentally forgotten his declaration of love.
“I always thought you were more the racy romance novels kind of woman-you know, Harlequin, that sort of stuff where the female lead would put a flower between the pages of a book to signal her presence to her lover- and maybe crime books when you are forced to take a leave from the job. BUT I bet you read this book more than once a year, that you love Mr. Edward and that your heart beats wildly at the idea that he and whatever her name is are really, honestly and truly going to end up together. Like every time you read it, it could change. The finale still amazes you after all this time, doesn’t it?”
“Jane…” She took a big breath. He could see worry lines on her forehead. Oh, he was such a bastard, but he was having such a fun! And yes, he wanted to feel the waters too. “Jane, I am waiting for a friend. Do you mind leaving?”
“I think I’ll get up as soon as your friend comes. Is he late?”
She shivered, she didn’t want to know how he was supposed to know she was meeting a man. Oh well, he was the Patrick Jane, after all. He always knew everything, and what he didn’t know… he deduced it.
“Edward’s love interest is Elinor, and just for the record, I think that she and Marianne are two of the greatest characters ever written. Not that you would know.”
Jane grunted. He didn’t like this last affirmation. Ok, he never went to school as all the other children did, but he wasn’t stupid. He had learnt on his own. Worked hard to get where he was today, and she shouldn’t insult him for something that, basically, wasn’t his fault- if there was someone to blame, it was his mother, who abandoned him, and daddy dearest, who only cared about the money his son could bring into the household.
“Just for the record,” he said, quoting her like a parrot just to annoy Lisbon. “I’ve read it. And I think, Lisbon, that if you would try to really get to know me, you’d discover a lot of things you can’t even fathom right now.”
She snorted- it was so un-lady lake, but she didn’t care. She was fed up with him and his idiocies. “Ah. I think I got to know you well enough in over ten years, Jane, and what I know is that you are a self-centered egoistical jerk with control issues who doesn’t care about the others. Whatever to get the job done, right? And the hell with the consequences. It doesn’t matter if you get the others in trouble, doesn’t matter who you leave behind, you must be proven the smartest in the room, always. While the man I am here to see… he is completely unlike you. He is kind and funny and has a great sense of humor and… and there is not a cruel or careless bone in his body. But I can’t expect you to know anything about a person like that.” Teresa took a big breath, and smiled a little of a cynic smile. She took a big breath again, suddenly realizing what she had actually said, and then looked away. She knew that she had just crossed a line, and that was it. “Jane…sorry, I didn’t mean…”
He shook his head, looking at his hands on the tablecloth. “No need, Lisbon. You just told me what you thought. And you know what? This is my cue to leave. Good night. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
He left, and once outside, he dropped the carnation in a trashcan with such an anger he had never felt before. But he guessed it wasn’t all her fault. He had taken her for granted, after all, believed that she was always going to forgive and forget. Now it was pay time. But… but he loved her. He loved her as Teresa and he loved her as May, and even if right now there was no chance to make them work out…
He would think of something. He needed to get Teresa back as a friend- so that she could, one day, be his- as a friend or a lover, it didn’t matter. He just knew that: he needed her in his life.
When Teresa got home, she felt like dying; grunting, she fell on her bed, still fully clothed, the book at her side. She was frustrated because of what Alexanderson had done to her, but mostly, she felt bad for the words she had said to Jane. He didn’t deserved them,: she hadn’t been fair to him. Yes, he used unusual methods, and no one stood after he passed, like an hurricane, but he solved cases. He helped people out. Got justice for the victims, and closure for the families.
But…
But he had been a bigger pain than usual lately- just in a different kind of way. Or maybe it was just because she didn’t understand him any longer. He was hot and cold, and she could never say what could go through his mind at any given moment. He was a mystery, an enigma, something-someone - she still didn’t know how to handle any longer; and that after more than ten years that they had been partnered together.
She looked at her computer, and decided to be proactive about this whole thing. She needed to know- or maybe just understand -why Alexanderson had stood her up, and she needed someone to talk to. Of course, she could have talked with Grace about it, but, as much as she cared about the red-head, it was this man she needed right now. She had to risk it, even if he wasn’t going to answer.
To: Alexanderson
I am thinking about you. I just went to meet you, and you weren’t there. I wish I knew why. I felt so foolish. And as I waited, someone else showed up, a man who has made my life so much difficult- I think I may have already mentioned him -and I was able, for the first time in my life, to say the exact thing I wanted to say. and of course, afterwards I felt horrible, just as you said I would. I was cruel, and I’m never cruel. And, I don’t know if what I said mattered to him, but if it did… no matter what he did to me, there is no excuse for my behavior.
It’s just that, you are my dear friend, and I wanted to talk with you. I hope you had a good reason for not being there, but if you don’t, and we never connect again, I just want to tell you how much it has meant to me to know you were out there. Goodbye.
As soon as the mail arrived, Jane saw the blinking light on the screen flashing right before his eyes. He stared at it, one hand under his chin in contemplation, he didn’t even dare to open it. He was torn. Yes, he had a plan, but he didn’t know if he was ready to fulfill it. Most of what he had in mind depended of what Teresa was going to tell him in her missive, and yet, knowing this simple fact, he was scared. Did she deserve Patrick Jane? Did she deserve Alexanderson?
He took off, and went in the kitchen, the computer still on and still blinking; he went through the refrigerator, the fridge, every shutter, but he didn’t find anything that could hold his interest, not even tea. Sighing, he went back to his bedroom, and put on his pajama, but yet, he still could see in his peripheral vision the computer. He tried to battle the instinct and the desire to write her, to read the letter, because he was still too confused about their feelings. But at the end, he lost the battle, and he went to sit at the small table, he inserted his password once more, and resisting the urge to slap his own face and call himself an idiot, he read the whole thing. Again. And again. And again. So many times he actually lost count.
And then, he started typing his reply.
I am in Vancouver right now
He sighed, and deleted the whole thing. He could lie, but this was just too big. Teresa would have immediately understood it wasn’t the truth. Struck by sudden inspiration, he started to type once more.
I was struck in a meeting, which I couldn’t get out of, and there was no phone.
He erased once more the last part of the sentence, knowing that the devil and the lie were in the details. He wondered, though, if she wasn’t going to suspect foul play too if he were to be too vague, so he decided to add a little something, just to make sure.
The electricity went out in the building and we were trapped on the 18th floor. Amazingly enough, the telephone system blew too.
He sighed and literally hit his head against the wood, frustrated. It didn’t go. Too many details, and besides, she didn’t deserve a lie- she was getting enough of them as it was - so he lifted his head and backspaced the whole thing, erasing every single letter. It was time to change approach.
Dear friend, I cannot tell you what happened to me last night, but I beg you from the bottom of my heart to forgive me for not being there.
He shook his head, and deleted some more. Not the whole thing- the beginning was good, and promising.
… to forgive me for what happened. I feel terrible that you found yourself in a situation that caused you additional pain. But I am absolutely sure that whatever you said last night was provoked, even deserved. And everyone says thing they regret when they are worried or stressed. You were expecting to see someone you trusted, and met the enemy instead. The fault is mine. Someday, I will explain everything, but now I am still here. So…
Talk to me. Write to me.
With a little smile, Jane turned off his computer. Now it was time to sleep. And starting tomorrow, he would have started to repay whatever damage he had done to Teresa’s affection for him. He knew there was room for improvement, now. He just had to be patient, and have a good timing.
A couple of days later, Grace decided that she needed to talk with Lisbon to understand a couple of things. After the “non-date”, Rigsby had come home, and told her, laughing, what had happened. All because he didn’t know she had been the one to set them up. At first, she had wanted to follow them at Marie’s, but then she had given up, fearing being discovered, but now, she needed to know how much Lisbon knew of this “indiscretion”. Teresa was her good friend, she didn’t want to lose her, even if she had acted in her interest.
While she was walking to her (former) boss’ office, her eyes fell on Jane’s couch. He was faking sleep as often, and he grinned a bit when he understood she was there -she didn’t even want to know how he knew that it was her and not someone else. Grace trembled, because that expression screamed volumes. He knew. Of course he knew, he wasn’t an idiot, after all. Now all she had to see was how much he was going to make her pay. But right now, everything seemed calm. If nothing, Jane was a man who believed that vengeance was served best cold, when your opponent wasn’t expecting it any longer. Just because they were friends and part of a surrogate family of sort it didn’t mean he was going to make an exception. Far from it.
She composed herself, and walked directly on the door, entering only after being given permission- she wasn’t Jane- and then smiled at Teresa. She didn’t go to seat before Lisbon’s desk, but immediately on the couch, once received a warm smile from her friend. She also decided to avoid beating around the bush. There was no reason to, after all. She knew that Alexanderson had stood Teresa up. Now all she wanted to see was what Teresa had in mind for “lover boy”.
“By the way, he wrote me back.” Teresa said, offering Grace a cup of tea, few minutes later. The redhead almost chocked.
“And… uhm… did he say anything about meeting again?” she was blushing, her eyes going every now and then to Jane, still busy “napping” on his couch in the bullpen. She hated him. Why did he have to make everything so damn difficult?
“Not really, but it doesn’t matter. We’ll just be like George Bernard Shaw and Mrs. Patrick Campbell, and write letters to each other our whole lives.”
Grace laughed a little, giggling like a silly teenager. “And you’ll try to sell them when he’ll tell you his secret identity, and you’ll discover that he is, in truth, a billionaire or some rich guy?” She put down her cup, and, hands in her lap, she looked at Teresa, quite seriously. “Maybe you got lucky and you don’t know it yet. Maybe he is a convicted felon.”
But Teresa just shook her head.
“No. He wasn’t there for a good reason. I know it. I don’t care about it- but I know that one day he will tell me- face to face.” Grace sighed. The dreamy- and girly- expression on Teresa’s face was full of promises, but yet, everything could still go wrong. After all, it was all up to Patrick Jane now.
So, as Jane and Lisbon were, very slowly, rekindling their friendship, May Flower and Alexanderson kept writing to each other. The mentalist did his best to keep the letters vague, sure that, now that he knew of Lisbon’s secret identity of sort, she would be soon finding out the truth about him too. It didn’t make any sense, of course, but still, he feared that she would discover this little secret and break up with both versions of her secret admirer.
And yet, it wasn’t enough- it was never enough, not when every step he took, he took also two steps back. Because for every sweet word, every nice action, he also did something awful, relatively speaking, of course, and she got mad at him because her boss got mad with her because of him. It was an endless circle he didn’t know how to break. He wasn’t even sure he wanted to actually break it. Yes, he hated that Teresa was permanently mad with him, but she was supposed to know that he worked in a certain way, and that his way of doing things usually generated troubles for law enforcements. Yes, he was a closer, but the cases he closed had never been bullet (and sue) free.
But now, he feared he had screwed up a bit too much. He trembled, sweated, fearing that his whole plan was falling right before his eyes. Because Lisbon, once again, wasn’t at the office. She hadn’t been there in a couple of days, and she wasn’t even answering to Alexanderson’s emails. She wasn’t reaching out to complain, either. He was getting worried. Maybe she was mad. Or maybe it was worse. Maybe she was hurt. Maybe something bad had happened to her and people didn’t want to tell him. Hell, maybe she had decided to pull to follow an hunch in some case or the other, and now she was all alone somewhere, trapped in the cellar of some crazy psycho.
Without even answering to Rigsby’s question, he turned, and run down the stairs. He reached his Citroen, and even if Lisbon’s usual words- “Don’t run or you’ll get yourself killed” - kept repeating in his mind, he didn’t mind them. He just couldn’t, not when he didn’t know what had happened to her. Her place was over half an hour from the CBI at a normal speed, but he got there in half the time, given or taken. When he reached her place, he could listen to very loud music coming from her apartment, and shivered, thinking that maybe a killer had put that on so that her cries for help couldn’t be listened. He didn’t even knocked at her door or rang her doorbell, so sure something had happened to her. He simply picked up the lock and ran inside.
Where he found Lisbon in pajama and with a huge, old and yet adorable robe, curled on her couch.
“Jane?” She asked, sniffing, her nose bright red.
“Lisbon?” He parroted, eyes wide. Smiling like an idiot, he went to her, and was opening his arms to take her in, carried away by the happiness of seeing her alive and well, but she stopped him before he could get any closer.
“I have a terrible cold, Jane, I am sniffing and I am not sure I am really awake… I am sleeping twenty-four hours a day and I am taking Echinacea and C vitamin, so I would really appreciate if you could take few steps back... or if you could come some other time altogether.” He gave her a pointed look-the one that meant that she was saying something silly in his opinion- so she decided to let it go. After all, there was no way to reason with Patrick Jane. She was supposed to know better by now. Maybe he wasn’t going to let her sleep, but she could do with the peace and quiet. “What are you doing here, Jane?”
“I was worried.” He explained. She felt a little bad as she saw his painful expression. Jane wasn’t… he was… though and a bit cynic, but not a bad man. And he always feared the worst, after what had happened to his family. She should have told him. Or told someone to tell him. She felt a bit guilty. “What are you doing?” He asked like he was a little child.
“I was looking at the Home Shopping network. And don’t worry: I resisted the temptation of spending my whole salary on porcelain dolls.” She explained. A brunette was on video at her back, selling the ugliest shoes they had ever seen in their whole life, brown and gold and with metal things and weird heels. “Now you know I am alright and watching television. Goodbye?” She was sick. She felt bad. She didn’t want anyone around, and it had nothing to do with him.
Jane didn’t even answer her, he just made his way towards the kitchen, and put everything in working order for getting a couple of cups of tea like it was his own place. He was even chuckling. He didn’t care how much Lisbon was grunting. Now he had discovered her little secret, that at home she had become quite the tea lover. He had rubbed on her in the right ways. There was definitely working ground, considering how much of a coffee addicted she had always been..
“You are sick. Sit down on that couch of yours, please, woman.” She rolled her eyes and snorted, but she still did as she was told. Before she knew it, he was back, sitting at her side with two mugs of hot tea.
“I am sorry for the other day, at Marie’s. I was upset, and I have been horrible to you.” She said, so low it seemed almost a whisper. She was getting red on her cheeks, and he wondered if it was because of the fever, the hot tea or because she felt embarrassed after such a confession.
Jane shook his head, his eyes were small, and Lisbon knew that look all too well. He wasn’t just sad, he was feeling guilty. She hated when he felt like that, all she wanted in those moments was to take him in her arms and lull him to sleep while caressing his hair. “I was horrible, Lisbon. You, my dear, were charming, trust me.”
“I know, but I still think that I have no excuses for my behavior.” She leaned her head against the pillows of the couch, sighing. She could feel him grinning, she didn’t know how it was possible, but she knew it was exactly what he was doing in that moment.
“Are you saying I am a horrible person so I have no choice but to be horrible?” He asked. He chuckled, and once put down the cup, he leaned against the back of the couch, hands behind his head. “I think you are entitled to be mad with me, Lisbon. I know that after we got Red John I haven’t been…” He paused and took a big breath, struggling to find the right words. “I think my old self, the one you thought I could be. If you were… are mad with me, I deserve it. With the suspension, the unpaid overtime you had to do because of me… and just in the last few months, let’s say I get it. And I don’t blame you. I know I can be difficult. But, that’s who I am. And we always both knew it.” He smiled at her, and she smiled a bit in return- the “shy schoolgirl” kind of smile - and she knew he understood why she was mad with him and he accepted it.
“I just hope” he said, patting her hand “that you’ll not be like Elizabeth, and you’ll eventually find in your heart to forgive me.” Lisbon didn’t answer him, she was just lifting her eyebrows and connecting all the known dots in her brain. Elizabeth? Who was she? When had he talked about her? Was she the mysterious woman he had been often texting lately?
“Now, now, Teresa, Sense and Sensibility may be your dirty pleasure, but I know that you secretly love Austen’s whole work. So, no, I don’t buy, not even for a moment, that you aren’t familiar with Elizabeth Bennet, from Pride and Prejudice. I always thought that she was too proud…”
Lisbon stood still, surprised. “Jane, you hate Jane Austen.” She underlined the word “hate”, almost spelling out the whole sentence. But he wasn’t even listening to her. Like often, he seemed to be in his own world, and he kept talking from where she had stopped him.
“Or maybe she was the one with the Prejudices and Darcy was too proud. I can never remember.” He stopped, and looked at Lisbon, slightly irritated before him. She wasn’t talking, her eyes were closed and she was taking big breaths to calm herself down. “What?” He asked. He was getting annoyed. He hadn’t done anything wrong yet. Yes, he had “interrupted” her, but he had done it for a good cause. He had been worried for her. And she knew it. He really didn’t understood why she was mad with him now.
She sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Jane, my head is starting to get funny. I just want to get back to bed…” She started to walk to her room, knowing that if he wanted he could let himself out on his own. But then, when she was already halfway on the stairs, she stopped, and turned to look at him. Her consultant was still on the couch, looking at her retreating form. She didn’t know if he was waiting for her to get to her room to leave, or if he wanted to go through her things. “Did I ask you why you were here? I forgot it..”
“I was worried, Lisbon” He said, and then paused. “And because I want to be your friend.”
“Oh.” She blushed in surprise. It wasn’t like she didn’t know that they were sort of friends. But sometimes she forgot it. It was because of how careless he got when on the job. And it was what she had told him at Marie’s, after all.
“Lisbon? Will you get mad if I ask you what happened to the guy you were supposed to meet at Marie’s?” She shrugged, and didn’t say a word. But Jane wasn’t an idiot. He knew she was kind of disappointed. He felt a bit bad about it, but it had to be done. If he wanted her, he needed to be her friend again, first, fully and completely. “But I thought you were- I correct myself, you are crazy about him.”
He was speaking with that tone he always used when he wanted to show her his reasoning in a case. She hated when he did that, behaving like she was a naïve idiot who couldn’t close a case on her own. She decided that she would be childish, and that she didn’t care. She glared at Jane, gave him her back and stormed in her room, slamming the door behind her. Not that he got the message. Half a minute later, while she was already underneath the red sheets he was already in her room. He was behaving like it was his own place. God, how much she hated him at times.
“Lisbon, if you are that crazy about him- and don’t deny it because I know you are- what are you waiting for to run away in sunset with this guy?” Completely under the sheets, Lisbon mumbled something. Someone else would have never guessed her answer, but Jane was Jane- and after all, even if she didn’t know it, she was speaking about him. “I’m sorry, can you repeat it? I didn’t get the last part…” He was mocking her, the bastard. She was two minutes flat from taking her gun and fire at him. Repeatedly. In the legs. So that he could die a slow and painful death. She could even probably go away with murder for this one. No jury could convict her, not after everything he had done to her and her sanity. And even if they did, she was sure that Cho would have never abandoned her. She smiled despite herself, picturing her second in command visiting her in jail with cigarettes to trade in for favors.
“I said” she screamed at the top of her lugs once she had left once again her bed and was pointing an accusing finger right in his mischievous eyes’ direction. “I said that I don’t know him. That I never met him if not on the internet!”
But his remark never came, which worried Lisbon. It was strange. She was expecting at least a “pathetic”, but it never came. Instead, what he said, was. “I am happy for the two of you. Although… can I ask you why don’t you set another date to meet? No, wait-another question altogether. Why do you think you should meet him?”
He had gone to seat on the edge of her bed, one hand was on a pillow, the other was running its fingers on the soft Egyptian red sheets. Lisbon wanted to gasp, she was blushing, hit by the sudden intimacy of the situation. She didn’t know what to say. So she said the first thing that came to mind.
“I’m not sure you are the best candidate to give me dating advice, Jane, after all…”
It was the truth, though. Yes, he had been married, but it had happened over ten years before. And he had met his wife through “the job”, when they were teenager sweethearts. After that, it was a huge collection of murderers, mistresses of serial killers and Kristina Frey-which wasn’t exactly normal, given that she had toyed with a serial killer well knowing what he was capable of and how vengeful he could be.
But Jane didn’t like her remark too much, so, before she could move on with the sentence, he clapped his left hand over her mouth. She felt like sighing. He wasn’t being forceful, it seemed like he was tender and gentle. His palm was warm and big, she felt like burning where he was touching her. But then, she shivered. She had felt his naked ring finger. Of course, she had known he had taken it off, but that had been on a rational level. This, feeling on her own this new reality, the knowledge that Jane wanted to move on, was different.
“Lisbon, we both know that if you’ll end this sentence you’ll feel bad for at least a month, and then you’ll come to me asking for forgiveness, so let’s avoid wasting time, all right?” Smiling, she nodded, and answering in kind, he removed the hand. “Good girl. Now, get well soon, all right? But take care of yourself first, and don’t come back to the office before it’s the right time.”
He smiled and left, feeling suddenly a little embarrassed; he put his hands in his pockets, because he didn’t know what to do with them- actually, he did, but he feared Lisbon wouldn’t agree with his decision to hug and kiss. Not now, and especially not when she was sick. “Ok. I guess…goodbye?” He was asking her. Why was he asking her? It didn’t make any sense. He hated how she could make him lose it. And at the same time, he loved it.
“Goodbye.” She said, smiling, putting herself to sleep, a small sigh of beatitude escaping her parted lips. “And thanks for the tea.”
Jane was right, though. She was going to send another mail to Alexanderson. And she was going to tell him she wanted to meet him. That they just had to.
And Jane, unknowingly to her, smiled. Alexanderson was going to be there, the next time. He wasn’t going to deny her - or himself- this any longer.