147Crush Syndrome
Head down, Lisbon strides into her office and shuts the door. The noise of the bullpen fades and she fight's the temptation to drop the blinds as well. She peers through the glass and sees the team are hard at work chasing down fresh leads unearthed by her consultant.
Her treacherous eyes cut a glance at the figure on the couch. He's in full repose, only the burnt honey curls and the tips of his shoes visible. She can tell he's genuinely trying to sleep and that's the problem right there. She has spent entirely too much of her time carefully watching him, trying to read his every move and gesture, the motive behind the surface display.
She thinks about getting her lunch from the fridge but the tension in her body kills any appetite. There's a disquiet in her belly that has nothing to do with hunger. It's like the anticipation of bad news, something that you know will come soon, but not precisely when. Or perhaps the sense of dread anticipation for when a man of violence will finally explode. Each day where nothing happens just adds to the tension. When fists start flying it's almost a relief; a confirmation of how things really are. Lisbon is well acquainted with that way of living.
With an effort she stops her mind from running down that rabbit hole. To all intents and purposes she got her bad news, and it's unfair to compare it with domestic violence. She unlocks her laptop and brings up the CBI database. Her team are logging the details but as supervisor she needs to review and approve them. She goes through a couple of items before her mind returns to the morning's interview with the Walters family. She feels her cheeks flame crimson and she sinks further down her chair to hide behind the monitor.
It had been a routine day. She and Jane were interviewing the parents of sixteen year old Jarod Walters. The boy had been abducted and killed for no clear reason. They'd finished with the family and had moved onto the live-in staff of the stately home in Granite Bay. Jane had fixated on Janice, the young maid.
"You had a crush on Jarod, didn't you."
The young girl flushed. "No…" Her voice was barely above a whisper, lacking conviction.
Jane's expression softened. His tone became gentle. "Don't say that, we both know that it's true."
From her position flanking Janice, Lisbon's lips formed a thin line. She hated it when he used his 'mark' voice. Watching yet another victim fall under its spell she felt a moment of disgust. She hated how easily Jane could manipulate people and for the umpteenth time she worried she was no better.
The eyes that appeared to stare deep into your soul, the soothing tone articulating your most secret feelings, dragging them to the light but in way that offered understanding, not judgement. She shivered involuntary and a slight twitch suggested Jane sensed it. She forced herself to focus on his words.
"It's not your fault, Janice. You didn't ask for it to happen, I know that. It probably crept up on you. Suddenly you realised you were more aware of him. Wherever he was in the room, you knew. You could pick up his moods, see when he was happy or sad. Later on you realised how much you cared about how he felt. If he was unhappy, and let's face it, he was often unhappy, it was like a dark cloud over your soul. You didn't chose that, who would? The heart wants what the heart wants."
Her head drooped in submission. "Yes."
Jane crouched a little to maintain eye contact but all of a sudden Lisbon realised he was also engaging her.
"Don't feel bad, Janice. The intensity of what you feel, the hypersensitivity to his presence. People call it a crush but that hardly does it justice. What you feel is real but you have to realise they are your feelings, not his. Those emotions come from inside you and when you fully understand that, then you can control them and make them pass.
The poor girl sobbed. "I'm sorry."
Jane's voice dropped a half octave. "Oh don't be sorry. Intense empathy such as yours is the sign of a good heart. Too good for Jarod, to be honest. He was shallow and selfish and cruel. He only cared about his own agenda and had room for nothing else. Given time you'll come to see that and you'll be the stronger for it."
Lisbon felt trapped by the conversation. All the while Jane talked to the young girl he was watching Lisbon as well. At some point Janice ceased to exist and it was as if it as just the two of them in the room. The implication broke upon her body like a freezing cold wave. She lost all colour and left the interview. When Minelli called her for an update on the case she could have wept for gratitude.
The drive back to headquarters was intensely uncomfortable. Lisbon forced herself to focus on the road, trying to distract her mind from endlessly analysing what he said to her, or rather what he didn't say but strongly implied. It was a small mercy that Jane was feeling introspective as well. He'd made his point and had the sensitivity to leave her space to mull it over.
As she exited the vehicle Lisbon finally trusted herself to speak. "You'll update the others on what we learned?"
Jane nodded and then offered a smile comprising equal parts sympathy and compassion and then headed for the elevator. Lisbon remained at her car, reeling like she'd been punched in the gut. He possessed such a brilliant pallet of charm and warmth and emotion and he could turn it on and off like a tap. Lisbon could learn to accept that artifice but the kicker was that she knew at times it was real. She just could never be sure when…
Lisbon snapped back to the present and realised her eyes were once more resting on the man on the couch. "Message received," she whispered sadly to herself. She pondered strategies to deal with the situation. She wanted to be angry at Jane's monstrous presumption but in truth he'd acted with tact and delicacy. Pathetically, she was grateful for that.
Did she fall back on cold professionalism? Limit her interactions to the minimum required for the efficient working of cases? Her heart quailed at the thought. Dammit, on top of everything else she liked him as a friend. Maybe one she couldn't fully trust but a friend nevertheless. The only non-cop in her professional life, a wonderful antidote to the grim, dour realities of her job.
Lisbon groaned and leaned back in her chair. He didn't feel the way she felt. That was obvious. It was a small solace he didn't feel that way about anyone else either. At least no-one living. He put up a carefree front but she knew underneath his grief still dragged on him like a leaden anchor.
His life outside of work was condensed down to the bare essentials. She knew his mail address, had even googled the lifeless three star motel he called home in Sacramento. Work and revenge were now literally his whole life. Her mind shied away from contemplating an existence that empty. No. Even if it made life easier for her she couldn't just shut out Jane. He really needed a friend to keep some humanity in him alive.
Lisbon unconsciously straightened in her chair. She could be a friend, she just had to get over this damn crush. She tried to remember what she'd done in similar situations in the past. After some thought she realised it had never really come up.
In high school she'd been too consumed with the unfolding tragedy of her home life to have much thought for boys. Then she'd met Greg and they'd kind of latched onto each other. Nothing unrequited there, at least on her part, she thought uneasily.
College had been a liberating experience, though seasoned with a little guilt for leaving her brothers behind. She dealt with the guilt by studying hard. Dating was never a priority though she'd never lacked for suitors. When the mood took her she even went out with some of them. College was a time for exploration and fun and on occasion she had certainly indulged. The lack of permanence suited her fine.
Lisbon's thoughts strayed to the SFPD and then quickly shied away. That was as very different situation. No help there. She mentally reviewed her recent dating life. She'd had some pleasant encounters, though none recently. She couldn't even blame Jane for that.
She'd found the local dating scene with its preponderance of single, intense government workers a little off-putting. It was too much like a production line. Finish work, hit the scene on Friday/Saturday night and hook up with a like-minded person. Safe conversations, safe sex in safe positions and then back to the weekday grind. No thanks, she wanted something more than that.
Which brought her back to her consultant, damn him. What did it say about the male population of Sacramento that a Jane operating at 10% effort easily eclipsed her interest in other men who gave it their all? She looked at him lying peacefully on his couch. She pictured the rest of the office leaving, leaving just the two of them alone. She pictured just walking up to his couch and pinning him to the cushions, having her way with him…
Lisbon groaned aloud. That was just wrong. Not to mention her feelings about Jane really were only tangentially related to sex. Her thoughts began to take further shape. What she needed was to shake things up. Break the pattern. She still had some last month's performance bonus in her savings account. Maybe it was time to spend some of it on a weekend in her old stomping grounds in San Francisco. She could book a nice hotel, catch up with some of her San Fran lady friends and paint the town red. Relax, have fun, and hopefully get laid. Decision made she jumped online and booked a room before she could change her mind.
A few minutes later she got a call. A kid found dead in the woods near a school called Bright Arch. Equilibrium restored, she strode into the bullpen to brief the team.
A/N: I've always wondered how Lisbon got over her pretty obvious crush on Jane in season 1. She's definitely over it by season two but rather than putting it down to the fallout of Jane shooting Sherrif Hardy, I figured I'd come up with my own answer.
