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Dr Brett Steiner had been a source of amusement for Patrick Jane ever since their first meeting. There was something especially satisfying about the way the aging coroner reacted to Jane’s practical jokes. But Lisbon had noted a distinct shift in her partner’s behavior around the man during their current case.
It’s not like there wasn’t enough material for frivolity — what with the victim’s belief in alien abduction and all. But aside from a single pre-arranged gag, Jane seemed to actually be handling the good doctor with kid gloves: insisting he be allowed to help with the active case, treating him to (stolen) brandy and cigars at the Cook estate during questioning — that sort of thing. Lisbon couldn’t put her finger on it, but Jane was definitely softer toward the old man on this case. It’s why her heart jolted especially hard when she heard from the coroner’s office that the doctor had died; and with Jane right beside him, no less. The thought of it was sullying her morning.
Teresa’s eyes flitted here and there as she nervously arranged the papers on her desk; occasionally glancing at the dark screen on her phone — wishing her partner’s smiling photo would appear with an explanation for his current absence. She hadn’t heard directly from Jane since before the incident, and had been unpleasantly surprised to see empty leather cushions instead of a sleeping mind-reader when she got to work today. Checking her watch more frequently than usual, she was growing more worried with every minute that ticked past.
Where was he? Staring at a blood-smeared wall in a dark mood? Out in the city causing trouble? Or even worse: was he hurt? Had whatever caused the doctor to drop dead infected him as well?
Anxious about the possibilities, Teresa busied herself with paperwork; but was unable to focus on any of it. She stared with great concern at the incident report in front of her, but her pen remained suspended in air as her eyes bore a hole in the empty text box below.
With a light knock, Van Pelt peeked in with news: “Hey Boss,” she chirped with a friendly smile, hoping to counter Lisbon’s visibly concerned mood.
Lisbon forced a smile in return. “Grace! Good morning.”
“Doing paperwork?” Grace probed carefully.
“Trying to. Kind of distracted this morning.”
Van Pelt’s face morphed to sympathetic understanding. “Doctor Steiner?”
“Yeah. He was a good guy. Even Jane was being nice to him on this last one,” she smiled with a quick chuckle.
“About that…”
Lisbon answered with raised eyebrows and a half-nod.
“This was found at Steiner’s house.” She held up a lapel cam and a thin tangle of wire. “Apparently he’d forgotten to give it back after the sting yesterday.”
Lisbon smiled wide. “He was so happy to be part of that.”
Grace nodded. “I was downloading the footage to wrap up that case, when I realized it had been running for hours afterwards.”
“Oh no; so, the poor guy filmed his jacket pocket the rest of the night?”
“Hung the jacket on a hook. Camera still running from the lapel. His living room couch in full view.”
“Did you say couch?” Shock flashed in Lisbon’s eyes. Wasn’t that where the man had died?
“Yeah. Wanna take a look?”
Lisbon pressed her lips into a businesslike expression and nodded, tapping her stack of papers on the desk to smooth them before pushing back her chair and marching beside Grace to the AV room.
Lisbon’s green eyes were wide and her mouth was open slightly as the silent footage flickered on the screen. Why had her partner even been at Steiner’s place? What was Jane saying to the man. What was he doing with that coin when the doctor passed away? A sudden, terrible thought appeared in her head then, causing a sinking, sick feeling in her gut.
“What the hell? Did he hypnotize Steiner to death or something?!” Lisbon pondered shakily, breaking out in a cold sweat that warned she may not know her partner at all. She paced the room to think: The sudden change in his treatment of the man had allowed trust to build — but he was a trickster and manipulator by trade. Still… he wouldn’t… would he?
Van Pelt replayed the video, eyes squinting for focus. “I… don’t think so,” The junior agent deduced out loud, eyebrows low with concentration.
“What are you doing?” Lisbon’s mind whirred as she noticed Van Pelt’s lips silently moving in sync with the film.
“Jane taught me lip reading on that case a couple weeks back,” Grace explained. “I think I can piece together their conversation from this angle…”
Lisbon looked on with interest as the redheaded detective scribbled notes while following the action onscreen.
When the scene flickered to its end, Grace was silent and still; jaw slack, and eyes glassy.
Teresa’s attention snapped back to her agent - who was clearly affected by whatever she’d been able to read. “So… what’d they say?” Lisbon prodded gently. “What happened?”
“Jane didn’t hypnotize Doctor Steiner. He…” Grace wiped some dampness from her cheeks and took a sip of water. “He was helping him through an assisted suicide.”
“What?!” Teresa’s mind had not even imagined this possibility as she’d worried through her list of explanations earlier.
Grace rolled back the footage. “Right here, Steiner shares his plan… Jane is debating against the idea, but Steiner’s having none of it. His mind seems made up.” She allowed the film to play for a few seconds, then pointed. “There; Jane seems to be using the coin trick to distract Dr. Steiner as he’s dying… not hypnosis per se, but doing that ‘calm voice’ thing he does.”
Lisbon replayed the scene again, leaning close to the low-resolution images. She couldn’t read lips but was pretty adept at body language, so saw the possibility that Grace had presented. “Oh my god,” her voice broke with whispered emotion. Jane using his carny magic tricks to soothe a dying old man; she almost couldn’t take it.
The two colleagues stared silently at the screen, processing what they’d learned. Neither saw the brooding pair of blue eyes looking in from the other side of the hallway window.
Back at her desk, Lisbon was still pondering this new information. It was exhausting: the sharp pendulum swing from wondering if her partner and best friend was a killer, to being fairly confident that he’d actually been an angel of mercy.
Jane as an angel… laughter bubbled from Teresa’s lips at the irony. She quickly surveyed the glass walls surrounding her to ensure no one had seen or heard her talking to herself; but the hallway and bullpen outside were humming with their typical activities, the staff there paying her no attention.
Leaning back with relief, she folded her arms across her chest; laughter settling into a touched smile. Lisbon knew her partner had sparkle, and had a sense he was a better man than he let on; but her heart was struck hard by seeing him exhibit such a depth of care with Doctor Steiner’s request. She began to wonder if Jane’s biggest con might be making everyone believe he was an uncaring jerk — Keeping everyone at arm’s length because it was safer for his heart that way; which would be understandable, given what he’d been through. She ignored the voice in the back of her head that whispered she was pretty good at pushing people away, herself.
“Caught a case, Boss,” Rigsby announced from the doorway, popping Teresa’s self-convicting thoughts like a bubble.
“Thanks Rigs; you and Cho grab the van.”
“You got it.”
“And, Wayne…”
The man paused, eyebrows high with curiosity.
“Have you seen Jane yet this morning?”
“Nope.”
“I wonder where— “ she shook her head quickly. “Never mind. I’ll meet you and the team at the car.”
“Yes, Boss.” Rigsby walked dutifully away to gather the others and get the vehicle pulled around.
When the team returned to headquarters, Cho and Rigsby were actively debating — wondering how Jane had managed to beat them to the crime scene without having been at the CBI in time to hear about the call.
“Come on - Lisbon texted you right?”
“Nope.”
“Boss?”
“I didn’t tell him.” Lisbon confirmed.
“Okay Jane - how’d you do it?” Cho asked in his typical cut and dry manner.
“I have my ways”
“Typical” Lisbon snarked.
“You sure you’re not a real psychic?” Grace smiled hopefully.
“Absolutely sure.”
Grace deflated with a frown.
Lisbon shook her head with amusement as she arranged the case closed pizza and beer on a bullpen table before pulling Jane into her office by the shirtsleeve.
“What’s that about?” Rigs puzzled.
“No idea, but I’m hungry,” Cho moved quickly to the food table, ignoring whatever was transpiring between his boss and her partner.
“Wayne? Want a piece?” Van Pelt successfully distracted, knowing Lisbon most likely wanted discretion.
Meanwhile, Jane was speaking animatedly on the other side of Lisbon’s closed office door:
“I know, I know; you can’t stand that I got to the crime scene first,” Jane chided with a sparkle. “And you are here to poke at me until I reveal how I managed that impressive trick.”
“That’s not—“
“You know it is,” his voice trailed upward playfully, one index finger suspended accusingly in the air.
“Jane-“ Lisbon stuttered, not sure how to start. When her nervous eyes found their way back to her partner, his fallen expression made it clear he understood this had nothing to do with today’s crime scene.
“Lisbon, it’s okay; just say it,” his low voice attempted to comfort.
“Fine, here it is,” she swallowed anxiously. “I know what you did for Steiner.”
“I figured as much.”
“You cannot read my mind, Jane,” she slid into the comfort of the accusation.
“Maybe, maybe not. But I did see you and Grace through a window earlier; and even with the grainy film I could recognize what you both were watching.”
“You saw that? Why didn’t you say anything?”
“I figured if you wanted my involvement, you’d have asked for it. That Grace is a quick study; we’d only had like two lessons on lip-reading!” Jane smiled wide.
“Convenient excuse. Since when do you wait to be invited?” Her poke hit harder than intended, triggering her partner.
“Look, I’m still upset about it, okay?!” The consultant barked, immediately waving his hands in apology for the outburst. He paced slowly for a moment, calming himself. “I’d actually grown to like the guy, and… well, it was a painful situation I wasn’t in the mood to discuss.”
“Oh god; Jane… I’m sorry.” The pained warmth in Lisbon’s eyes tugged at his already-raw emotions.
“I even tried to convince him not to go through with it, but…” Patrick’s voice grew more frustrated, “even the ‘smooth talking master manipulator’ I purport to be couldn’t talk the man out of it. Proving once again that Alex was right; his son’s a total screwup.”
“You are not a screwup,” Lisbon interjected. The care in her eyes washed over him, but only amplified his feelings of self-loathing. He didn’t deserve her care; and had no right to even dream of it — despite the fact that he did dream of it… did dream of her… short delights that sometimes graced him during fitful couch naps. Jane quickly pasted on a masked grin; the appearance of which only amped up the concern in his partner’s eyes.
“Director needs a word, Boss.” Cho interrupted; poking his head in with a knock, before disappearing just as quickly. Either not noticing or choosing to ignore the weight of the air in Lisbon’s office.
Damn it. Teresa would have preferred more time to talk her consultant off his emotional ledge, but duty called. She reached a hand out and tapped his arm, “We’ll talk later.”
Jane pressed his lips together and nodded slightly before following her out to the bullpen.
‘Later’ didn’t occur until the next morning, when Lisbon arrived to the office before the dawn; carrying some excuse about paperwork, but actually having been prodded by an unsettled heart:
Her mind was still replaying the video she’d stumbled on in the CBI attic last night while looking for her laptop:
“She was…”
Those words from her partner’s onscreen lips had caused Lisbon’s heart to crackle under her skin with grief for him.
“Oh, Jane…” she’d whispered to the man on the screen; wanting to hold him… wanting to show him how wrong he was about himself… wanting to do a lot of things — but newly reaffirming that it was no use: Angela would always come first. And, to make things more hopeless, on their last case he’d been unduly interested in, and unusually thrown off by, the doe-eyed dating app CEO who’d killed her own husband.
Shaken, Lisbon had slept poorly — her heart and mind weighed down by the longing and heartache in her best friend’s eyes. So, she’d decided to start her day before the sun — hopeful that work could push her heavy-hearted concerns aside. But on arrival she’d found those concerns sleeping on the leather couch in the bullpen, still wearing a three-piece suit.
Despite her efforts to sneak past unnoticed, her partner roused from his nap at the first hint of cinnamon in the air. And now, Jane and Lisbon were sipping coffee and tea; sitting closely together on the couch, as they often did.
Jane muttered a variation on his ‘I’m a screw up’ comment from their previous conversation: “I hate admitting that the bastard was right, but the proof, as they say, is in the pudding.” Jane looked morosely into the still-empty, early-morning bullpen.
“Don’t say that, Jane. You are a good person.”
He flashed her a look.
“Okay, you are sometimes a little rough around the edges,” Teresa allowed, “BUT deep down, there’s a beating heart in there, I can tell.”
“You can’t tell. You can’t see my heart, Lisbon,” he argued weakly. The truth was, he had at times been secretly rattled by looks from his partner that hinted she really could. Maybe it was some superpower that came from being an actual good person? The ability to see into the hearts of fake ones? His reasoning was interrupted by an adorable snort from his favorite agent.
“You wish! You just don’t wanna admit there are limits to that branded ‘self-control’ you wave around,” she teased with a slap; hoping to distract his somber thoughts with their typical banter.
Met with silence, Lisbon’s eyes turned sincere: “But seriously, Jane… you got pretty close to Steiner before he died; and that Flynn woman was intentionally picking at your old wounds… Are you okay?”
“Right as rain.” He murmured. Though his face showed he was surely not.
Lisbon’s mouth moved a couple times, but nothing came out. Her eyes began to nervously skitter around the room; desperate for anything to focus on as a distraction.
“Life is short, Teresa; even when you don't meddle with a serial killer. And why did Steiner confide in me, anyway? All I’ve ever done was trick the guy?” The consultant’s eyebrows knitted low in thought.
“Maybe he warmed up after you helped him get in on the investigation?” Lisbon posited. “Or maybe he figured you’d be the most likely of us to bend the rules when it actually made the most sense?”
Jane made a face at that — a face that seemed to accept Lisbon’s last explanation while also being disgusted by the truth of it. He turned, with a resigned sigh; mumbling to himself: “Life is short. What the hell.”
“Lisbon, wanna get coffee sometime?” He chirped as if his mind hadn’t just been blanketed by darkness.
“We get coffee every morning, Jane — technically I get coffee every morning… you get tea.”
“You know what I mean,” his amused grin showed he’d seen right through her attempt at deflection. “Actual coffee and actual tea, at an actual café — not from the break room and not sipped in the bullpen.”
The unease on Lisbon’s face was apparent despite how hard she tried to hide it. Her partner was being unusually sincere, and she was quite taken back by his invitation. What did he mean by it? Was he messing with her? Would he take it back later after having time to think?
“Lisbon?” Jane prodded gently for her answer.
“You mean, like a date?” Teresa regretted her choice of words the second they escaped her lips.
“If you like?”
Dammit. Those blue eyes had no right to sparkle like they were right now. He’d expertly phrased his answer so as to remain vague as possible… Predictable…
“Jane…” she warned with a tinge of frustration.
“OK, fine. I admit I was thinking of it as a date; yes,” the most charming smile followed that admission.
“Oh…” Lisbon’s countenance softened immediately, eyes full of care: “Are you sure you’re ready for that? I mean…”
“Why wouldn’t I be ready for that?” He pretended not to know.
“I just always figured… I mean…” she flashed back to his fake profile video and hoped he couldn’t read it on her face. “Look, I know your wife will always come first and—“
“She’s not here, Lisbon,” he whispered quickly.
That admission hit Lisbon’s heart even harder than the first one. It was unlike him to state that out loud - at least not to her.
Jane read the impact his words had on his partner. Teresa could never hide her truest feelings; it was one of the things he’d always loved about her. That, and the light exuding from her every pore; drawing him in like a moth to a flame. He spoke gently, so as not to scare her off: “So? What do you say?”
Lisbon remained silent, thoughts and nerves still working overtime.
“Lisbon… Try not to worry about who or what may ‘always come first.’” He leaned closer to punctuate his point.
His eyes were so close Teresa could see flecks of green hidden amongst the blue. She found herself temporarily lost in them; making a mental note of the unique and beautiful patterns the flecks created… momentarily stunned.
“Besides,” Jane straightened suddenly, a mischievous look sparkling through the patterns. “Whoever comes last has the last word Lisbon,” he grinned.
Her head jolted back an inch, her eyes steeled into tough girl pushback - though the blush traveling up her neck signaled a different emotion. “What do you mean by that?”
“What do you think I mean by that?” He sparkled infuriatingly.
“N… Never you mind,” she turned away - unwilling to give him the victory of seeing the blush that had reached a full bloom on her cheeks.
Jane stood and rocked on his heels with satisfaction, mouth drawn into a devilish grin. “So that’s a ‘yes’ to our coffee date?”
“I didn’t say that,” she pushed back with stifled amusement.
“See you there, my dear: Diner. Tomorrow. 9am.” He skipped happily down the hallway and up the attic steps before she could mount an argument.
Lisbon blinked at the empty corridor with a crooked grin; wanting an arm to punch and absolutely refusing to let any laughter escape. How in the world would she survive this day knowing she was expected at a ‘coffee date’ tomorrow morning? No doubt her partner wouldn’t let her forget it. He had better not say anything to the team. “Oh my god,” she chuckled to herself as the bullpen began to fill. What exactly had she gotten herself into?