A/N: And again with the Summer Secret Santa fics. I have 2 more multiparters to start uploading following this as well as a handful of oneshots... so I'm making up for my mini hiatus. Or at least, I hope I am.

This was written for boutondor and was beta'd by Divinia Serit.

I'm going to shut up now. I've been away for too long to warrant rambling.

x tromana

Title: Crazy Paving
Author: tromana
Rating: T
Characters: Jane/Lisbon
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Summary: Memories are tricky to control - especially when you have Patrick Jane hounding you about it. Jane/Lisbon friendship.
Spoilers: Up to 2x20 Red All Over
Notes: Written for boutondor in the Jello Forever Summer Secret Santa. Beta'd by Divinia Serit. Thank you!

Crazy Paving

"A woman, especially, if she has the misfortune of knowing anything, should conceal it as well as she can." - Jane Austen

Part One

Seconds after she allowed the front door to click firmly shut, her front door keys fell to the ground with a satisfying clatter. Before she even had a chance to realize what was happening, Teresa Lisbon's knees buckled and she soon found herself sitting, leaning up against it. She pulled her knees to her chest, tightly wrapped her arms around her legs and took a few deep breaths. It had taken all of her well-honed self control to get this far, to actually make it home before allowing her emotions to get the better of her, A lesser woman certainly wouldn't have managed it, but that was besides the point. Anyway, she had an image to uphold - not just in front of the general public, but in front of her team as well. She couldn't show any sign of weakness until she was (literally) behind closed doors; it just wouldn't have been right.

It was her own damn fault that she was getting so emotional anyway. He may have solved countless crimes for her now, but Patrick Jane was still a law unto himself. She shouldn't have just trusted him implicitly when he said he knew who the killer was. Jane had proven himself unreliable time and time again so there was no reason why this should be any different. Of course, she'd insisted upon him telling her the basics of his plan - and it had literally been the bare bones. That he was going to manipulate Alexander Harrington into confessing to his granddaughter and all they'd need was a clever ruse to get them alone together to do just that. Lisbon hadn't been much keen on the idea - catapulting young Ashley into danger again was foolhardy, even if Cho was watching their every move. If Jane was right, and he had been, then they could have left a little girl at the mercy of a killer. He'd already killed her father, what was to stop him from killing the next generation too?

She'd been so preoccupied with concerns over the child's safety that she had entirely missed the finer details of Jane's explanations of the mind games he intended to carry out.

And now, now she was sorely regretting it. She was grateful that it was yet another closed case - and one that Hightower hadn't felt the need to berate her over too. But still, in a way, she would have preferred that a thousand times over compared to how she was actually feeling. The moment Jane had revealed one of Ashley's teacups in Xander Harrington's private office, she knew exactly where it was headed. She literally had to bite down on her tongue to prevent herself from calling out and undoing the entire set up. It had also taken her half a minute or so to remind herself that Ashley never saw the death of her Daddy, that she hadn't been forced to endure such an emotionally scarring event first-hand.

But that was never going to be enough to stop the emotional blow that she had been struck full-force with. The one that had sent her catapulting back through memories she had been expertly repressing for years and hadn't had any intention of revisiting. Intentions were not enough stop herself from forcibly having to face those demons again though, however much she wished they were.

Barely an hour later and she had finally managed to tear her way from her door and go upstairs. A bath had seemed like a good idea. Dipping her hand tentatively in the water, she considered it to be a little on the hot side, though most sensible people would think it scalding. That didn't stop Lisbon from immersing herself, relaxing into the piles of bubbles. She hoped that their gentle scent would soothe her tired mind as the water relieved her aching muscles. After a couple of minutes of just sitting and enjoying the sensation of the warm water, she sat up, took a sip of her tea and grimaced at the bitter aftertaste due to over-stewing. With a frustrated sigh, she scrabbled for her book - a new, somewhat inaccurate crime thriller. It was a distraction of sorts, a neat little puzzle for her to focus on instead. Even without the day's events, she would have most likely found herself reading it anyway. Lisbon wasn't particularly happy unless she had something to think about, some sort of riddle to decipher. It was why she loved her job so much and how she knew that she was well suited to it, regardless of what her doubters, including Hightower, thought.

Just as she was beginning to relax, her telephone tore through the silence, making her jump slightly. Scowling, Lisbon threw the book across the bathroom and it crashed into the radiator, causing the towel to fall to a ground in a heap. Hurriedly, she stepped out of the still-boiling hot bath and shuddered at the sudden drop in temperature. Quickly scooping up the towel and wrapping it around her lithe body, she bolted to her bedroom and reached the phone just as it went to voicemail. Cursing, she flopped onto her bed, not caring about the fact that she hadn't dried off properly. All she wanted to do was relax but it seemed the world was conspiring against her.

Her bedroom didn't remain silent for long. Half a minute later, the landline resumed its incessant ringing and she actually managed to pick it up in time. After tucking a couple of tendrils of loose hair behind her ear, she pressed the receiver firmly in place and answered the call. Half of her expected Madeleine Hightower's dulcet tones to reply, telling her that she had already been assigned another case. So, when Jane answered her, she was slightly surprised and almost disappointed. The idea of moving onto another case had been quite a pleasant concept, even if she did feel like she was half asleep. Being probed by Jane, however, was not and she didn't even bother trying to hide her irritation.

"There's something troubling you," he blurted out, not even bothering with niceties. At least it explained why he was calling her so late in the day.

"You don't say," she replied promptly, her tone droll.

"No need to be sarcastic."

"Go away, Jane," she snapped and her finger hovered dangerously close to the button that would end the telephone call.

"Talk to me."

"Why?"

"You'll feel better."

She snorted and could practically imagine the hurt expression that Jane was more than likely wearing. The man really didn't take rejection well, especially if he believed he had somebody's best interests at heart. Then, he seemed to see it as his duty to annoy the hell out of them until they divulged whatever secrets they had and then embarrass them about them.

"Oh believe me, I won't."

"Sure you will," he replied flippantly. "Doesn't everyone say that a problem shared is a problem halved?"

"Everyone deserves to have some secrets, Jane, please let me have this one," she whispered, hoping that, for once, he'd take her seriously. "You know that of all people."

"Lisbon…"

"Please?"

He fell briefly silent and then quickly bid her farewell. She allowed herself to fall back on her bed, feeling even more uneasy. Jane hadn't even agreed to leave her alone for now and simply said he'd see her in the morning, but she knew him well, almost too well. She knew that it would continue to bother him, niggling away at the back of his mind. Sooner or later - and probably sooner - it would grow too much and he would approach her again.

And she didn't like the idea of that.

It was bad enough thinking of it at all, never mind talking about it.

TBC…