CBI Australia - Chapter 1 Stranded like a runaway, lost at sea

Patrick Jane stood outside the familiar entrance of the Canberra Bureau of Investigation. His heart was racing and he felt an unfamiliar panic climbing up from his hindbrain and threatening to overwhelm him completely. His hands clenched unconsciously as he struggled to force the feeling back down. He had no idea what the hell he was doing. He took a slow deep breath and repeated the mantra that had sustained his recent decision to return to the CBI; "Fake it till you make it".

He turned his face toward the sun and inhaled another deep breath. A melange of familiar scents assailed him; dust, eucalyptus, petrol fumes, coffee, traces of perfume and deodorant left by freshly showered and shaved CBI workers beginning the day. It was the smell of the building which had been his only true home for over 10 years. He had been gone for well over a year but at least thus far nothing had changed. Even this early the sun was warm and he could feel the ultraviolet rays begin to burn his skin.

Jane carefully schooled his features until they displayed an easy sangfroid and then adjusted the set of his newly purchased suit jacket. He picked up the paper shopping bag resting on the ground next to him and with a smile he walked jauntily towards the entrance. He was for all appearances a man who was trouble free, at peace with the world. He breezed past Dinesh the Uniform Protection security guard and up to the 5th floor, home of the Serious Crimes Unit.

He made his way towards the team area, pausing just before he would attract their notice. He took a long moment to survey the team. Wayne was reading the sports section of the Canberra Times, hunting the back pages for any mention of his beloved AFL team, the Western Bulldogs. Kimball sat opposite him, absorbed with some minor paper work, by look of it a recently closed case. At the next pod Grace was industriously reconciling travel expenses on her corporate card, a task that was the bane of their existence given their extensive travel schedule. Jane craned his neck a little further and caught sight of Teresa hunched over her laptop. She sat at the long table that was the only concession to her status as team leader an open plan office allowed.

Squaring his shoulders Jane stepped forward. "Hi gang" he chirped stopping a few metres short of their desks. Grace was the first to react.

"Patrick!" She squealed before wrapping him in a bone crushing hug that actually rocked him backwards a few steps and nearly made him drop his bag.

"Grace" he returned. "You look as lovely as ever". Wayne was quick to join them and thumped Jane hard in the shoulder.

"Tarzan returns!" he chuckled, using a nickname that Jane had rather hoped he had been forgotten during his absence.

"Riggsey!" Jane returned warmly. He hastily set his burden down and turned a mock serious look at Cho who had remained seated.

"Grand Master Cho, inscrutable as ever I see"

One side of Cho's mouth quirked infinitesimally upwards in acknowledgment. "So are you back or is this just a friendly visit?"

"Straight to the heart of the matter as always. Well I ah, nothing decided either way yet, to be honest. Have to suss out the boss for one thing."

As one the team turned to look at Lisbon in the corner of the room. She appeared to be engrossed with something on her screen and hadn't even looked up despite the commotion. Jane couldn't help but chuckle as he noted the subtle tension in her shoulders. She knew he was here, all right.

"I'll deal with Teresa in a minute but before that I have a little something for each of you, kind of a thank you for having put up with me over all those years we were chasing after, well, you know who. I know I left with nary a word of goodbye but I meant no slight on you. I just had to deal with... Stuff. So again, thank you and please accept these small tokens that in no way can make amends for what a pain in the arse I've been." Jane reached into the bag at his feet and began to hand out presents with a broad smile.

Grace received a beautiful gold chain from which an irregularly shaped black opal was suspended. Riggsby received a matching pair of black opal cufflinks. At their protest at the magnitude of the gifts Jane was characteristically dismissive. "I spent a bit of time in Lightning Ridge. Someone owed me a favour and I got these in return".

Next he reached into his bag and pulled out three used books. With a sly smile he placed them on the desk in front of Cho. "I know you've read these but I thought you might like them anyway". Kimball struggled to maintain his stoic expression as he reverently inspected the books.

"Dude", Riggsby scoffed, holding up his expensive cufflinks ," looks like you got jibbed!"

Cho didn't even look up from his examination of a paperback entitled Illywhacker. "Three signed first edition Peter Carey books, I'll take that any day over a pair of cufflinks I'd never wear".

Jane bantered back and forth with the team for a few minutes asking how things were and talking vaguely of his travels. Grace insisted they all catch up for drinks after work and he readily assented. He passed on his new mobile number and then walked towards Lisbon's desk.

When Lisbon heard Grace's greeting of Jane she was instantly seized by a mixture of dread and excitement. After a quick glance to ascertain her erstwhile consultant really had returned she ducked down behind her monitor and tried to sort through her conflicted feelings. One part of her wanted to rush up and enclose him in a fierce hug and another wanted to ignore him entirely for having left her without so much as a thank you or goodbye.

He'd left her on the day he'd finally convinced Lorelei Martin to give up Red John. On a day of frantic calls, hasty coordination with the Metropolitan Police, a mad scramble to get to the house all the while praying that Red John would be there, that it would all be finally over. That day, how it all went down, was burnt into her memory…

The quiet suburban street is filled with police cars and noise. Amidst the chaos a couple of heavily armed SOG operatives have Red John cuffed and on the ground. Lisbon and the rest of the team are securing their firearms when Jane walks calmly past his colleagues and towards his nemesis. The jacket draped across his right arm falls away revealing a .38 revolver.

Lisbon remembers how brightly the sun is shining, the azure haze of the cloudless sky, the unnatural calm radiating from Jane as he levels the pistol at Red John's head from less than a metre away. The sound washes out as she sees the SOGs react to the unexpected threat by training their weapons on Jane, mouths moving soundlessly as they shout at him to put down his weapon. A sick dread falls on Lisbon, manifesting as a sharp pain in the chest. She knows the Special Operations Group is a hair trigger from gunning Jane down and by the look of him he just doesn't care.

The SOGs are shouting but Lisbon can't hear them. Jane is staring at Red John, his finger tightening on the trigger. Fear distorts Red John's features as he stares death in the face. She calls Patrick's name, the cry wrenched out of her. Her hearing abruptly returns and she shouts his name again and is shocked by the pain, the need in her voice. Jane reacts as if shot, his head whips around and unerringly makes eye contact with her. His shoulders slump and in an instant his composure shatters. He looks lost, betrayed, like a small child plucked from the safety of its family. He mouths the words "I'm sorry" though to whom is unclear. Then his arm falls to his side and the revolver drops to the ground. The next instant Wayne and Kimball grab him and hustle him away from the SOGs.

Teresa heaves a shuddering breath to wrest back control of her emotions and then does what she's been doing since the age of 12. Pushing her feelings aside and taking charge. She has to re-direct the SOGs attention back to Red John, cover for Jane, ensure the scene is secured from public bystanders, make the revolver disappear, work out a story with Cho, Van Pelt and Rigsby; the list is endless.

It's hours later before she has a chance to catch her breath. Cho is at her side telling her that Patrick has vanished. She nods tightly, just another piece of information she will have to process later. She notices Jane's discarded jacket and moves to pick it up. His keys and phone are still in the pockets. Part of her wonders if he will ever come back for it. It's an easier thought to deal with than the question of whether she will ever see him again.

That evening she receives an anonymous text.

"I'm OK but I need some space to get my head straight. It might take some time. I'm sorry for everything… You've been my true and dearest friend for longer than I care to think and you deserve so much better.

Lisbon stares at the text. Her sense of overwhelming relief is tempered by a powerful desire to smash the phone against the wall as poor substitute for tearing her maddening consultant a new one.

Lisbon blinked at the memories. She had thought of Jane as a close friend too yet not a word had passed between them since that day. His phone had been in his jacket so she couldn't call him. The month after his departure had been exhausting. Lisbon spent it worrying, fretting, fighting constant battles to protect Jane from the consequences of threatening a man with an unlicensed firearm.

She had slept badly, plagued by strange and disquieting dreams. All the while wondering where he was, what he was doing, who he was with… When his first postcard arrived she was amazed at the sense of relief she felt. It was addressed to the team and mailed to the CBI office. It was a postcard from Coff's Harbour that featured the Big Banana. Jane had written a couple of pithy lines about the tourist trap and assured everyone he was well. It was the first of many they would receive from Jane as he made a rambling circuit of the island continent.

A/N: I'm somewhat nervous with this story as I've decided to set it in Australia to play with how that might change the characters. Hopefully people don't find that too off putting. If it helps remember that Simon Baker himself is Australian so picturing Jane as an Aussie shouldn't be too much of a stretch. The concept of Jane sending post cards as he travels around Australia is a shout out to Hardly Loquacious' amazing Long Lost, Long Last story. Check it out if you haven't read it already. Likewise the idea that Jane could have been a beach bum is inspired by both Simon Baker himself and the writings of SpaceAnJl (who sadly hasn't written Mentalist fanfiction for some time).

As always, feedback is desired, cherished and responded to.