the veil that keeps me blind, 13/15
Title: The Veil That Keeps Me Blind
Chapter: 13/15 (Book IV)
Notes: Almost at the end (finally)!
Book IV
Chapter 13
xxxxx
The next morning comes all too quickly, and before Lisbon knows it, she is riding the elevator back to the familiar fifth floor and the Serious Crimes Unit.
She had met with Hightower immediately when she arrived, so by the time Lisbon reaches the bullpen, the rest of the team is already assembled. Jane is reclining on his couch, eyes closed but not asleep (she can tell, even from a distance); Rigsby and Van Pelt are discussing the evening’s Monday Night Football matchup while Cho pretends he isn’t interested -- although he isn’t fooling anybody.
Lisbon gives everyone a quick wave and exchanges ‘good mornings’, and then heads into her office, leaving the door wide open. Sitting on her desk is a cranberry muffin on a plain white napkin. As she picks the muffin up, she notices Jane’s neat, familiar script.
They were all out of blueberry. Welcome back.
Out in the bullpen, Jane is still lying supine on his couch, with his hands folded underneath his head.
Lisbon isn’t sure if this is a peace offering or not, but she did run out the door without eating breakfast that morning so she bites into the muffin. It is still warm. Jane must have purchased it fresh out of the oven.
Lisbon has just finished eating when Rigsby wraps his fist on the door (even though it is still open) and pokes his head inside her office.
“We’re up, boss,” he says exuberantly. “Body found at a gym downtown. Black male, late forties. Blow to the back of the head. Witnesses reported seeing him in a fight with another man just three days ago.”
Lisbon balls up the muffin wrapper and throws it overhand right into the trash can. “You bring the car around,” she directs. “The rest of us will be right down.”
And just like that, she is back at work.
xxx
The murder is an easy open and shut case; the team wraps it up in record time in spite of the fact that Lisbon’s field work is limited due to her broken ribs. The killer is the same man who had been seen arguing with the victim a few days before, and although the team considers a few other suspects in the beginning, the evidence quickly confirms their suspicions. The killer confesses to Van Pelt in five minutes’ time.
The quick distraction of the case, however open and shut it may be, helps Lisbon readjust, and other than the fact that she and Jane have not said anything to each other about what happened in her apartment, everything is exactly as it was before Red John’s death and her departure.
Lisbon has an increased awareness of Jane now, one that seems to have come with his confession, and she notices things she never had before. The way he touches her lower back when they leave a room together, the fact that he is more aware of the days when she skips breakfast than she is, how he stands just a little bit closer to her when they discuss a case. She never noticed these things in the past, not even in the months they had been together; they were simply actions she grew accustomed to and took for granted as part of Jane. But now, they suddenly mean so much more.
Still, they do not talk about what happened; they are rarely even alone together except for brief interludes in the car on their way to interview suspects. The team doesn’t get another case of their own that week; however, they do get called to help White Collar Crime with an embezzling case that results in several dead bodies when the company’s CEO discovers the whistleblower.
Friday afternoon, with their part in the embezzlement case all but wrapped up, Lisbon lets the team go home early for the weekend. She remains at the office, still catching up on her mail, when a soft knock on her office door interrupts her train of thought. She looks up immediately; she does not recognize that knock.
“I hope it’s okay that I came. The receptionist downstairs said you were still here.”
The voice belongs to Alex Senn, only 23 years old and the youngest women who had been staying at the shelter during Lisbon’s time undercover. Alex is classically beautiful, with long blonde hair, bright blue eyes, and high cheekbones. Today her hair is pulled back in a ponytail and she wears an apron, part of her work uniform; she has been putting in hours as a barista while she gets back on her feet after her husband pushed her down the stars.
(She is an upbeat young woman with a sarcastic sense of humor that only comes out once you get to know her. She would joke about how “getting back on her feet” was literal in her case. She had been one of Lisbon’s favorite fellow residents.)
“Of course it is.” Lisbon smiles and motions for Alex to come in and sit down. Alex complies but glances around the office nervously, so Lisbon abandons her desk and joins the younger woman on the sofa.
“I didn’t know if, well...” Alex fidgets in her seat, bouncing her good leg (the one that didn’t need surgical repair after her fall) repeatedly up and down in apparent agitation. “I didn’t know if you would want to see any of us. After we found out who you really were.”
Lisbon shakes her head rapidly. “The only reason I never came back was because I had too much to do at the FBI, so they sent someone else to pick up the rest of my things. I don’t know what they told you.”
“Just that your name isn’t Teresa Miller, and that you’re actually a CBI agent who helped catch Clifford Mehler and Debbie Summers. That they were behind the unexplained disappearances.” Alex frowns. “Do I still call you Teresa? Or is it Agent Lisbon?”
“Teresa is fine,” Lisbon replies with an encouraging smile. “Can I get you anything? We have bad coffee and probably a couple of stale donuts if you’re hungry.”
Alex laughs and seems to relax at this. She motions to her barista uniform with one hand. “I think I’m set with coffee for today. I just... I wanted to say thank you from all of us. Everyone, we’re all so grateful, and I didn’t want you to think that we weren’t...”
“I was happy to,” she answers. “You’ve all been through enough. This was the least I could do.”
“You can say that, but it doesn’t make what you did for us any less important. We won’t forget it.” Alex’s eyes sparkle playfully as she adds, “Besides, I had to come see for myself that you really are CBI. This is a pretty nice office.”
“I do alright for myself,” Lisbon quips.
Alex grins, a genuine smile that lights up her face, and Lisbon once again wonders how a young woman with as much going for her as Alex had ever ended up married to such a bastard.
“I should probably start heading back,” Alex says, standing reluctantly. “Someone took the car and went AWOL earlier this week, so we’ve been a little bit backlogged.”
Lisbon laughs in spite of her self, then rises to walk Alex out.
At the elevator, Lisbon hands Alex her card. “Take care of yourself,” she advises. “And call me if you ever need anything, okay?”
Alex nods in affirmation. “I will, Teresa. Thank you again.”
Lisbon waits until the elevator doors have closed and the panel on the wall indicates that the car has reached the lobby before turning to walk back to her office. Out of the corner of her eye, she spies Jane in the kitchen fixing a cup of tea. On impulse, she joins him.
“Who was that?”
Jane’s question is innocent enough, but Lisbon would bet good money that Jane had been listening in on at least part of her conversation with Alex.
“How long have you been here eavesdropping?” she counters.
“‘Eavesdropping’ has such negative connotations,” he says in protest, holding his blue teacup in one hand while he stirs with the other. “I just came to the kitchen to fix myself a cup of tea.”
Lisbon raises an eyebrow and shoots him a pointed look.
“I may have overheard some things, but it’s not my fault. You left your door open.”
That is as much of a confession as she is going to get from Jane on the matter, and it’s more than he would ever admit to anyone else. “Her name is Alex, and she’s one of the residents back at the shelter. I think she just wanted to come see for herself that what they told the residents about me was true.”
“She seems young,” he observes, finally deigning his tea ready and taking a sip.
“She is,” Lisbon confirms. “She’s 23.”
“Too young to be in a place like that.”
“Better there than with her husband,” she argues. “And none of them should need to be there.”
“Very true,” Jane agrees. “And how about you, Lisbon?”
She frowns. “What about me?”
“Are you okay?” he asks, his concern genuine by the tone of his voice. “I saw you stop to catch your breath earlier. Are your ribs bothering you?”
“It’s not bad. It just catches me off guard sometimes,” she admits.
Jane accepts her answer and, although contemplative, does not probe her any further.
“I know you’re not seeing anyone and you’ve already passed your psych evals, but I’m here and well, I’m not a shrink. If you need anything, you know where to find me.”
He turns to leave, but before she is aware of what she’s doing, she calls out, “Jane, wait.” He stops in his tracks, eyes focused on her expectantly.
“You asked me why I was surprised to see you in San Francisco.” The words tumble out of her mouth on their own; she finds the spontaneity exhilarating. “I thought you would be gone by now. I thought you would hate me for taking Red John from you.”
“Oh, Lisbon,” he whispers, his hand ghosting across her hairline and finally resting gently against her cheek. Her face warms beneath his fingertips. “Hating you was never an option. Nor was leaving. I’m afraid you’re stuck with me. All of you.” He nods his head back toward the bullpen. “But especially you.”
For a few seconds, Lisbon thinks he might kiss her again. She isn’t sure if she wants him to or not.
(There is disappointment, though, when he doesn’t.)
When his hand falls back to his side, its warmth still lingers against her cheek.
“I saw Mandy Bosco this weekend,” she announces, directing the conversation away from the electric current that has formed a line between them, a line that she is not quite ready to cross no matter how many times he does.
“How is she?”
“They’re all doing well, all things considered. I had copies of some old pictures made, and I thought she should have them for the boys.”
Jane smiles knowingly. “So you finally cleared out those boxes in the corner of your living room?”
Lisbon’s eyes go wide and she hits his chest indignantly. “You’ve been through them, haven’t you!? You little cheat!”
“I may have,” he says with a shrug. “Not on purpose though. I was looking for your small food processor, and I thought it might be in one of those boxes. Once I was in the boxes, I figured I might as well...”
“My small food processor broke, so I threw it out.” She glares at him, although she’s not really all that annoyed. She should have assumed he went through those boxes; that’s just what he does. “I didn’t use it enough to justify buying another one. I just use my blender.”
He winks at her. “You could have told me that.”
“I assumed you already knew,” she grumbles back.
Jane leans in to tuck her hair behind her ear and whispers, “Oh, I did.”
Lisbon hits him in the chest again.
“Right,” she says, rolling her eyes. “On that note, I think I’m going to call it a night. I’ll see you on Monday. Goodnight, Jane.”
“Goodnight, Lisbon.”
Even though she knows that things between the two of them are still uncertain, she leaves the office that evening confident that no matter what happens, she won’t lose his friendship; he will always be a part of her life.
She had thought before that she would get used to life without him and she knows that she could. But the truth is that no matter what, she doesn’t want to.
xxxxx
Chapter: 13/15 (Book IV)
Notes: Almost at the end (finally)!
Book IV
Chapter 13
xxxxx
The next morning comes all too quickly, and before Lisbon knows it, she is riding the elevator back to the familiar fifth floor and the Serious Crimes Unit.
She had met with Hightower immediately when she arrived, so by the time Lisbon reaches the bullpen, the rest of the team is already assembled. Jane is reclining on his couch, eyes closed but not asleep (she can tell, even from a distance); Rigsby and Van Pelt are discussing the evening’s Monday Night Football matchup while Cho pretends he isn’t interested -- although he isn’t fooling anybody.
Lisbon gives everyone a quick wave and exchanges ‘good mornings’, and then heads into her office, leaving the door wide open. Sitting on her desk is a cranberry muffin on a plain white napkin. As she picks the muffin up, she notices Jane’s neat, familiar script.
They were all out of blueberry. Welcome back.
Out in the bullpen, Jane is still lying supine on his couch, with his hands folded underneath his head.
Lisbon isn’t sure if this is a peace offering or not, but she did run out the door without eating breakfast that morning so she bites into the muffin. It is still warm. Jane must have purchased it fresh out of the oven.
Lisbon has just finished eating when Rigsby wraps his fist on the door (even though it is still open) and pokes his head inside her office.
“We’re up, boss,” he says exuberantly. “Body found at a gym downtown. Black male, late forties. Blow to the back of the head. Witnesses reported seeing him in a fight with another man just three days ago.”
Lisbon balls up the muffin wrapper and throws it overhand right into the trash can. “You bring the car around,” she directs. “The rest of us will be right down.”
And just like that, she is back at work.
xxx
The murder is an easy open and shut case; the team wraps it up in record time in spite of the fact that Lisbon’s field work is limited due to her broken ribs. The killer is the same man who had been seen arguing with the victim a few days before, and although the team considers a few other suspects in the beginning, the evidence quickly confirms their suspicions. The killer confesses to Van Pelt in five minutes’ time.
The quick distraction of the case, however open and shut it may be, helps Lisbon readjust, and other than the fact that she and Jane have not said anything to each other about what happened in her apartment, everything is exactly as it was before Red John’s death and her departure.
Lisbon has an increased awareness of Jane now, one that seems to have come with his confession, and she notices things she never had before. The way he touches her lower back when they leave a room together, the fact that he is more aware of the days when she skips breakfast than she is, how he stands just a little bit closer to her when they discuss a case. She never noticed these things in the past, not even in the months they had been together; they were simply actions she grew accustomed to and took for granted as part of Jane. But now, they suddenly mean so much more.
Still, they do not talk about what happened; they are rarely even alone together except for brief interludes in the car on their way to interview suspects. The team doesn’t get another case of their own that week; however, they do get called to help White Collar Crime with an embezzling case that results in several dead bodies when the company’s CEO discovers the whistleblower.
Friday afternoon, with their part in the embezzlement case all but wrapped up, Lisbon lets the team go home early for the weekend. She remains at the office, still catching up on her mail, when a soft knock on her office door interrupts her train of thought. She looks up immediately; she does not recognize that knock.
“I hope it’s okay that I came. The receptionist downstairs said you were still here.”
The voice belongs to Alex Senn, only 23 years old and the youngest women who had been staying at the shelter during Lisbon’s time undercover. Alex is classically beautiful, with long blonde hair, bright blue eyes, and high cheekbones. Today her hair is pulled back in a ponytail and she wears an apron, part of her work uniform; she has been putting in hours as a barista while she gets back on her feet after her husband pushed her down the stars.
(She is an upbeat young woman with a sarcastic sense of humor that only comes out once you get to know her. She would joke about how “getting back on her feet” was literal in her case. She had been one of Lisbon’s favorite fellow residents.)
“Of course it is.” Lisbon smiles and motions for Alex to come in and sit down. Alex complies but glances around the office nervously, so Lisbon abandons her desk and joins the younger woman on the sofa.
“I didn’t know if, well...” Alex fidgets in her seat, bouncing her good leg (the one that didn’t need surgical repair after her fall) repeatedly up and down in apparent agitation. “I didn’t know if you would want to see any of us. After we found out who you really were.”
Lisbon shakes her head rapidly. “The only reason I never came back was because I had too much to do at the FBI, so they sent someone else to pick up the rest of my things. I don’t know what they told you.”
“Just that your name isn’t Teresa Miller, and that you’re actually a CBI agent who helped catch Clifford Mehler and Debbie Summers. That they were behind the unexplained disappearances.” Alex frowns. “Do I still call you Teresa? Or is it Agent Lisbon?”
“Teresa is fine,” Lisbon replies with an encouraging smile. “Can I get you anything? We have bad coffee and probably a couple of stale donuts if you’re hungry.”
Alex laughs and seems to relax at this. She motions to her barista uniform with one hand. “I think I’m set with coffee for today. I just... I wanted to say thank you from all of us. Everyone, we’re all so grateful, and I didn’t want you to think that we weren’t...”
“I was happy to,” she answers. “You’ve all been through enough. This was the least I could do.”
“You can say that, but it doesn’t make what you did for us any less important. We won’t forget it.” Alex’s eyes sparkle playfully as she adds, “Besides, I had to come see for myself that you really are CBI. This is a pretty nice office.”
“I do alright for myself,” Lisbon quips.
Alex grins, a genuine smile that lights up her face, and Lisbon once again wonders how a young woman with as much going for her as Alex had ever ended up married to such a bastard.
“I should probably start heading back,” Alex says, standing reluctantly. “Someone took the car and went AWOL earlier this week, so we’ve been a little bit backlogged.”
Lisbon laughs in spite of her self, then rises to walk Alex out.
At the elevator, Lisbon hands Alex her card. “Take care of yourself,” she advises. “And call me if you ever need anything, okay?”
Alex nods in affirmation. “I will, Teresa. Thank you again.”
Lisbon waits until the elevator doors have closed and the panel on the wall indicates that the car has reached the lobby before turning to walk back to her office. Out of the corner of her eye, she spies Jane in the kitchen fixing a cup of tea. On impulse, she joins him.
“Who was that?”
Jane’s question is innocent enough, but Lisbon would bet good money that Jane had been listening in on at least part of her conversation with Alex.
“How long have you been here eavesdropping?” she counters.
“‘Eavesdropping’ has such negative connotations,” he says in protest, holding his blue teacup in one hand while he stirs with the other. “I just came to the kitchen to fix myself a cup of tea.”
Lisbon raises an eyebrow and shoots him a pointed look.
“I may have overheard some things, but it’s not my fault. You left your door open.”
That is as much of a confession as she is going to get from Jane on the matter, and it’s more than he would ever admit to anyone else. “Her name is Alex, and she’s one of the residents back at the shelter. I think she just wanted to come see for herself that what they told the residents about me was true.”
“She seems young,” he observes, finally deigning his tea ready and taking a sip.
“She is,” Lisbon confirms. “She’s 23.”
“Too young to be in a place like that.”
“Better there than with her husband,” she argues. “And none of them should need to be there.”
“Very true,” Jane agrees. “And how about you, Lisbon?”
She frowns. “What about me?”
“Are you okay?” he asks, his concern genuine by the tone of his voice. “I saw you stop to catch your breath earlier. Are your ribs bothering you?”
“It’s not bad. It just catches me off guard sometimes,” she admits.
Jane accepts her answer and, although contemplative, does not probe her any further.
“I know you’re not seeing anyone and you’ve already passed your psych evals, but I’m here and well, I’m not a shrink. If you need anything, you know where to find me.”
He turns to leave, but before she is aware of what she’s doing, she calls out, “Jane, wait.” He stops in his tracks, eyes focused on her expectantly.
“You asked me why I was surprised to see you in San Francisco.” The words tumble out of her mouth on their own; she finds the spontaneity exhilarating. “I thought you would be gone by now. I thought you would hate me for taking Red John from you.”
“Oh, Lisbon,” he whispers, his hand ghosting across her hairline and finally resting gently against her cheek. Her face warms beneath his fingertips. “Hating you was never an option. Nor was leaving. I’m afraid you’re stuck with me. All of you.” He nods his head back toward the bullpen. “But especially you.”
For a few seconds, Lisbon thinks he might kiss her again. She isn’t sure if she wants him to or not.
(There is disappointment, though, when he doesn’t.)
When his hand falls back to his side, its warmth still lingers against her cheek.
“I saw Mandy Bosco this weekend,” she announces, directing the conversation away from the electric current that has formed a line between them, a line that she is not quite ready to cross no matter how many times he does.
“How is she?”
“They’re all doing well, all things considered. I had copies of some old pictures made, and I thought she should have them for the boys.”
Jane smiles knowingly. “So you finally cleared out those boxes in the corner of your living room?”
Lisbon’s eyes go wide and she hits his chest indignantly. “You’ve been through them, haven’t you!? You little cheat!”
“I may have,” he says with a shrug. “Not on purpose though. I was looking for your small food processor, and I thought it might be in one of those boxes. Once I was in the boxes, I figured I might as well...”
“My small food processor broke, so I threw it out.” She glares at him, although she’s not really all that annoyed. She should have assumed he went through those boxes; that’s just what he does. “I didn’t use it enough to justify buying another one. I just use my blender.”
He winks at her. “You could have told me that.”
“I assumed you already knew,” she grumbles back.
Jane leans in to tuck her hair behind her ear and whispers, “Oh, I did.”
Lisbon hits him in the chest again.
“Right,” she says, rolling her eyes. “On that note, I think I’m going to call it a night. I’ll see you on Monday. Goodnight, Jane.”
“Goodnight, Lisbon.”
Even though she knows that things between the two of them are still uncertain, she leaves the office that evening confident that no matter what happens, she won’t lose his friendship; he will always be a part of her life.
She had thought before that she would get used to life without him and she knows that she could. But the truth is that no matter what, she doesn’t want to.
xxxxx