A/N: I'm not sure how long this story's going to be, but I do have a basic plan for it! This chapter's meant to be a little bit confusing, but I promise everything will be explained as the story progresses. A note about the title: monochrome images are not direct renditions of their subjects, but are abstractions from reality, representing colors in shades of grey, and often called black and white pictures.

Twin and I decided to write each other a story for Christmas. This is not to be confused with the Secret Santa exchange on JelloForever. I do have a list of prompts from her, so keep your eyes open in the future! I have LOTS of stories going on right now, but I'll try and update as often as possible!

Title: Monochromatic
Author: Divinia Serit
Pairing: Jane/Lisbon
Rating: T
Disclaimer: Not mine. Sigh.
Notes: Not-so-secret Secret Santa gift for twin (Tromana)

"The line between wrong and right is the width of a thread in a spider's web."
Katie Melua, Spider's Web

Chapter One

It was not supposed to happen like this. Deep inside she always knew this day would come, but in her mind's eye the sky should be black with lightning ripping through the turbulent night. It was not supposed to be sunny- the perfect temperature with a light breeze dancing through the air while sunbeams shown on sidewalks covered in chalk drawings. People were not supposed to be happily joking, going about their daily business while everything crashed down around her. They were supposed to be miserable, grumpy, cursing as everything went wrong and destroyed their carefully laid plans and dreams. It was not supposed to be her. If only it was not him. It was not supposed to be today.

Her shirt was torn. Ragged. The buttons scattered around the cement floor as the tattered garment hung limply off her shoulder. She strained to see something in the darkness- anything to tell her what was going on. She slowly blinked and willed her eyes to cooperate. The dust was blinding. Her eyes itched and her contacts were dry. She was aware of the matted blond that had dried on the side of her head. A dull pain radiated from a single spot behind her right ear thanks to the bloody piece of wood that had been carelessly tossed nearby. It would be so easy to just fall asleep, wait for help to arrive, and let someone else deal with this entire mess. She really could use a cold beer, and maybe an ice pack.

As a child, actions had clearly defined consequences and everything was either black or white. There was no gray area between right and wrong. Everything was so much simpler back then. Moral reasoning didn't come into play and there were no extenuating circumstances to muddle her decisions. She used to have such a clear grasp of rules that reverted back to childlike logic. It was either right or wrong, black or white. Now her life was streaked with gray, and she blindly walked the thin line between the two. One false move and she would forever spiral out of control just like the man she blindly followed and briefly trusted. Who was she kidding? She still trusted him and always would- no matter what decision he made.

A pair of strong arms encircled her and against her better judgment she refused to fight back. Collapsing limply in the man's grasp, she stiffened slightly when she felt the hard wood of the chair poke at her back. She watched as a small spider slowly crossed the vast expanse of the room unawares of her struggle and she bit back a laugh at the children's song that flickered through her head. 'The itsy bitsy spider climbed up the water spout.' Her arms were wrenched behind her and the sound of duct tape being ripped echoed throughout the room. The tape was sticky against her skin. It would be a pain to remove, and she knew it would hurt like hell. Her head was pounding, but she no longer cared. Was that wrong of her? Should she continue to fight, to try and break free? It wasn't that she was resigned to her fate, she was just so tired of fighting- physically and emotionally.

The man paused and she could feel his warm breath barely brush the back of her neck. She shivered once and cursed her body's natural reaction to his touch. He stilled slightly, and she knew he noticed her pulse quicken under his intense gaze. She kept her eyes fixated on the small arachnid as the man slowly made his way into her line of sight. She refused to meet his gaze and waves of regret rolled off of him. She wished she could open her mouth and voice her protests, but she felt like she had been sucking on cotton. His footsteps plodded back towards the door before pausing once more. Before she could change her mind, she raised her head and stared into his emotionless eyes.

"You don't have to do this Jane," she heard herself rasp as he turned his back on her and exited the room without a sound.

'Down came the rain and washed the spider out.'