Hello! I've been away from the fanfiction world for a while, both reading and writing. Real life got complicated- in mostly positive ways- but I'm here to dip my toe back into the water. Not a full-fledged story, just a little something I would have liked to have seen.

I was always a little annoyed with the Lisbon we saw in "My Blue Heaven". The way she was written, practically sleeping with Jane's letters under her pillow while he was out dancing the night away with Fischer, didn't sit quite right. This is me reimagining things a bit.

Thanks for reading!

Part 1 (of 2)

It was supposed to be a simple evening. It had certainly started out innocuously enough.

Rigsby and Van Pelt had driven up to Cannon River after meeting with clients in Seattle. The three of them had done a little reminiscing, the couple shared stories about their business and, of course the latest pictures of baby Maddie, at which Lisbon had oohed and aahed with sincere appreciation.

But then Wayne had offered to run out and pick up a pizza (for old time's sake) leaving the two women alone to get a head start on a bottle of cabernet and continue catching up. They settled into the plush armchairs in front of Lisbon's fireplace, and now two (or was it three?) glasses in, the conversation had a taken a turn. Lisbon was on the receiving end of Grace's steely, determined gaze.

Damn, she was good. Two years away from the CBI and her interrogation skills were still on point.

It all began with that damn picture.

It had gone unnoticed during the initial tour of the house, but when the two friends returned to the kitchen to refill their glasses, Grace's eyes zeroed in on it with laser-like focus.

"Oh, is this him?" she asked, pointing to the photo on the refrigerator door a wide grin spreading across her face. She leaned in to take a closer look at the snapshot of her former boss standing in front of a rock face, paying particular attention to the handsome, sandy-haired man in plaid flannel with his arm slung casually over Lisbon's shoulder.

"Yes." Lisbon replied with a smirk of her own. She had mentioned Andrew to Grace on the phone a few times. She had only been seeing him for a few months, so it wasn't serious by any stretch. In fact she'd only put the picture up because he had recently given it to her and she knew his feelings would be hurt if she didn't. But now as she glanced at the photo she realized how comfortable they appeared together in it, how settled. That was a little disconcerting.

"He's cute," Grace's smile broke out into a chuckle. "And he must be charming as hell to turn you into 'nature girl' here. Are you actually out in the woods?"

Lisbon rolled her eyes before draining her glass and uncorking the bottle to refill it. "Hey, climbing's a great way to stay in shape, especially since I spend most days stuck behind a desk shuffling papers," she answered wryly.

Grace held out her glass. "So, tell me more about this guy. What's he like?"

Lisbon topped off both glasses and considered. She had never actually described Andrew out loud to anyone before; she didn't really have to in a town where everyone knew everyone.

"He's a good guy," she shrugged. "Funny, smart-"

"Sexy?" Grace interjected with a smirk.

"Yes!" Lisbon answered on a nervous laugh then narrowed her eyes at her friend's cheekiness as the two made their back to the living room. She set the bottle on the coffee table, then plopped back down into her chair. "I don't know… he's just really straightforward, 'salt of the earth' type. It's nice."

Not exactly the most ringing endorsement, she conceded silently to herself, but it was certainly true.

Grace quirked her lips and nodded. "Well, he sounds great- and you sure look happy. You deserve it too, especially after all the grief Jane gave you over the years."

Well, that escalated quickly.

"Jane? she sputtered, feeling her cheeks grow hot. "Why would you bring him up? You know he and I were never involved."

"Well, not technically-"

"Technically or otherwise!" Lisbon shot back. Okay, that came out little more defensive than it needed to.

"I know," Grace replied, her voice and expression softening at Lisbon's obvious discomfort. "But the two of you were so close, for so long. It was pretty obvious how much you meant to one another. And you always had his back, even though I know there were plenty of times he didn't deserve it."

Lisbon met her friend's sympathetic gaze and felt her embarrassment fade, albeit only slightly. It had gone unspoken for nearly a decade, but none of what Grace was saying was exactly news to either of them. For years Van Pelt had had a front row seat to the emotional upheaval Jane had wreaked in her life. She had probably been dying to broach this subject for ages. The boss-subordinate relationship had always precluded it, but now there was nothing to hold her back.

"You were the most important person in his life, you know." Grace's tone was emphatic and matter of fact. But as touching as her assertion was, Lisbon couldn't help but openly scoff.

"Well, not the most important. You and I both know there was always someone else first and foremost in Patrick Jane's mind." She was grateful that she didn't have to say the name out loud. She'd be more than happy to never have to speak- much less think about- the words Red John ever again.

Grace frowned. "Maybe- but, I also know that even though he may never have been able to act on it or say the words out loud… I know that he loved you."

Lisbon fought to keep her expression neutral. If only Grace knew he had spoken the words years ago, only to all but take them back the next day. He probably didn't even mean them when he said them in the first place- or he had he? God, even after all this time she still couldn't make heads or tails of the man.

Grace leaned forward and propped her elbow on the arm of the chair. "So, what about you?" she asked lightly.

Lisbon furrowed her brow. As if feigning confusion would quell her friend's curiosity.

"Did you love him, too?" Grace's voice was steady, with a serene but decidedly impish expression on her face. "Come on, boss. You can tell me."

"I am not your boss anymore," Lisbon replied before taking a sip from her drink, an admittedly lame attempt at dodging the question.

"Which is exactly why we can talk about this now," Grace countered swiftly. "We're friends. This is the kind of thing girlfriends sit around and talk about."

Lisbon suppressed a groan. Couldn't they just French braid each other's hair or go get their legs waxed or something?

She cast her eyes down towards the glass in her hand, tracing the length of its stem with her forefinger. She quickly brought it to her lips and drained its contents.

Maybe saying it out loud wouldn't be so terrible. It wasn't as if she had anyone else in her life she could really confide in and share secrets with. Not she was ever inclined to. Besides, she could see Van Pelt was determined to wait her out. Resistance was futile.

She smiled self-consciously, steeling herself with a deep breath.

"Yeah," she answered quietly before looking up. "I… suppose I felt the same way about him."

Grace simply nodded and smiled as she sank back into her seat. Lisbon could tell she was trying not to look too pleased with herself at having just successfully wrangled this admission out of her.

"It must have been really hard for you these last few years," she said after a moment. "Having Jane just disappear off the map like he did; not knowing where he is or how he's doing." She paused again then her voice brightened. "You know, sometimes Wayne and I imagine where he might have ended up. I like to picture him trekking up some mountain in Tibet or walking along the streets of Paris-"

"He's… not in Tibet or Paris," Lisbon interjected softly, feeling a mischievous grin spread over her face. Hell, they were already down the rabbit hole, so why not? She met her friend's widening eyes.

"He's been writing to me. I get a letter from him every week."

Grace's hand went to her mouth. "Oh my god, are you kidding me? All this time?"

Lisbon snorted a laugh, which Van Pelt echoed.

"Where is he? How is he?"

Lisbon leaned back and shook her head. "The where part I can't say for sure. He's always careful not to include any details that would give that away… but I know it's someplace warm, near the ocean. I'm guessing somewhere in Central or South America." She chuckled. "He writes about diving off cliffs and swimming with dolphins."

"Seriously?"

"Yeah." Lisbon smiled wistfully, remembering the day she received that particular letter. The image of Jane the beach bum was just too bizarre to comprehend compared with the buttoned-up, three-piece- suit version of the man she had always known.

"So, he's okay… and sounds… happy?"

Lisbon could hear the hope and disbelief in Grace's voice. It was a little hard to imagine- the idea of Jane living out some carefree, idyllic existence after the one he had had for the previous decade.

The letters themselves provided little insight into how he was really doing; he was as enigmatic as ever. His writing usually struck a breezy, conversational tone. He'd share anecdotes about his neighbors or descriptions of the weather and changing seasons. There were times he seemed a bit more somber and reflective; he'd apologize for past indiscretions or express regret for the way things had turned out for everyone. Some of his letters were surprisingly heartfelt, bordering on sentimental, and yet they were never truly intimate. Even from thousands of miles away, he still held her at arm's length.

Lisbon frowned and shrugged. "It's hard to say. You know Jane. He only shows what he wants to you to see." She breathed in deeply. "But I think he's at least….content and a little more a peace with everything that's happened….maybe he's even found some way to forgive himself."

"I hope so," Grace answered, her voice barely above a whisper.

The two sat for a minute, then Grace's wide, ready grin returned. "Wow. You and Jane… pen pals."

Lisbon buried her face in her hand. She suddenly wished she had confided in Grace earlier. "I'm sorry. I should have told you before-"

"No, it's okay. I understand- and I'm not really that surprised. In fact, I think my husband owes me twenty bucks."

The two laughed.

"Of course he's been writing to you. How could he not?"

Lisbon shook her head and shrugged, suddenly self-conscious again. She leaned forward to refill their glasses. "He knew I'd be worried if he didn't get in touch somehow. Plus, I get the feeling he's kind of lonely, doesn't really have any close friends he can talk to-"

"Oh, stop. If Jane were just lonesome or looking for a way to pass the time, he'd be writing to Wayne and me… or sending postcards to Cho at Quantico." The two shared a laugh then Grace continued her expression earnest once again. "No, Jane's writing to you, because… well, you've always been a lifeline for him. It sounds like you still are."

Lisbon could feel her eyes become thick with tears, which she blinked away determinedly.

"It's meant a lot to me…" she began after a moment, "getting those letters every week. To know he's safe, that he made it through that whole nightmare alive and unscathed, even though I know most days he didn't seem to care whether or not he survived it at all…" She smiled sadly. "I'll always be grateful that he wrote to me for as long as he did."

"Why do you say that?" Grace looked at her quizzically. "You're talking like he's just going to fall out of touch or stop writing all of a sudden."

"He will," Lisbon spoke with absolute certainty as she shifted and straightened herself up. "One of these days- sooner rather than later, I suspect- those letters are going to stop coming. And I'm prepared for that."

Now Grace looked positively alarmed. "What's going on, Lisbon? What's happened?"

Lisbon grimaced, her voice strained. "Dennis Abbott is what happened."

Part 2 coming soon… let me know your thoughts!