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Jane woke from his slumber when the car suddenly slowed down and came to a stop. He opened one eye and peered at Lisbon.
"Are we there yet?"
Lisbon rolled her eyes, and turned off the engine.
"No, not yet. I need to get some gas."
He closed his eyes again, leaning his head back.
"And to use the little girl's room," he said, as he stretched his neck to work out the kinks.
Her hand froze on the handle, and she shot him a look. "Jane..."
Jane gave her a sleepy smile. "It's perfectly natural, no need to be ashamed. With all the coffee you drank, it's a wonder you didn't-"
Lisbon grabbed an empty Starbucks cup from the holder and threw it at him. He was too slow to dodge and it bounced off his shoulder, spilling drops of cold coffee on his shirt.
"Ow."
Lisbon ignored his look of indignation and angrily snatched the keys from the ignition, pointing them at him. "Don't wander off. I mean it."
Jane watched her disappear inside the gas station, and then opened the door and got out. If she hadn't needed to use the bathroom before, she certainly would need to use it now, which would give him more time to stretch his legs.
There was a small bar on the other side of the road and Jane headed towards it in search of something that could stave off the first pangs of an approaching hangover. He ambled to the bar and ordered a beer, but had barely tasted it when he heard a voice from behind him.
"Hello, Patrick."
Jane turned around to see a man maybe five years older than him, medium height and build, with an average, easily forgettable face. He was wearing jeans and a faded red t-shirt, and had a baseball cap on his head, hiding what seemed to be dark, short-cropped hair with a hint of auburn. He was too well-groomed to be a trucker, but seemed comfortable enough with his surroundings to not have been just a random passer-by.
His relaxed body language as he approached Jane suggested family, but the lack of resemblance said otherwise. A close friend, then, or someone pretending to be one.
The man took a seat on the barstool next to Jane, and studied him, smiling.
"You have no idea who I am, do you?" He finally said.
Jane casually leaned back on his seat, maximising the distance between them while at the same time making sure that his own body language didn't betray his discomfort.
"Sorry, I have-"
"Dissociative amnesia, I know." The man's smile widened. " I have my sources." He held out his hand. "I'm John."
John's pulse was strong and steady, and his palms were warm and dry. Jane held on to his hand for a few extra seconds before letting go.
"That's not your real name."
"No, it's not."
Jane knew that the smartest thing to do would be to just get up and go find Lisbon, but as usual, his curiosity got the better of him. He took a sip of his beer.
"So, how do I know you?"
John tilted his head, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "We go long back," he said. "In a way you could say that we're in the same line of business these days."
"You know, it's not very sporting to try to mess with someone who has a disability."
John laughed. "Oh, but you always enjoy our little games so much." He gave Jane a reassuring smile. "I apologise if I'm making you uncomfortable. I just wanted to drop by and see how you were doing. We never seem to have a chance to just sit down and have a talk. Such a shame that you'll forget it all if Agent Lisbon's plan to restore you to your old, shame-filled and guilt-ridden self works."
Jane frowned. "What do you mean?"
"Oh, you'll find out yourself soon enough. It's rather adorable, really, how predictable people can be." John finished the last dregs of his beer and set the glass on the bar. "Speaking of which, I believe that's her looking for you."
When Jane looked over his shoulder, he saw Lisbon standing next to the windows outside the bar. She caught his eye through the glass and made a face at him before heading towards the doors.
John stood up and then, before Jane could object, leaned forward and pressed a kiss on his cheek. "See you around, Tiger. I'll be in touch."
Jane watched him slip out of the door just as Lisbon entered bar. She gave John a quick look as she passed him, and then beelined straight to Jane. "I swear it, Jane. Next time, I'm handcuffing you to the car." She looked at Jane and then cast a quick look at towards the door.
"Who were you talking to?" she asked.
Jane shrugged. "I have no idea. Amnesia, remember." He finished his beer and stood up. "So, handcuffs... I knew you would be into that kind of thing. Short women often are."
She shot him a look. "Shut up, Jane."
Jane laughed, and then followed her out of the bar. "Yes, mistress."