Unforeseen Circumstances

A plot suggestion by Amri91: Jane returns from prison after being arrested for Red John's murder, ready to confess his love for Lisbon. But there are some unforeseen circumstances.

Disclaimer: Nothing is mine

Prologue

X

The noise was the worst here; there was always noise.

Always a brawl somewhere, always an argument somewhere. A smoker's cough, a grumbling snore or the incessant clink-clinking of chains. And even in the silent moments, the air was filled with white noise. The intense and dangerous mood, overlaid by an almost overwhelming sense of boredom.

And his thoughts.

In these last few years, being alone with his thoughts was all he wanted. He feigned sleep and headed for secluded attics to plan his revenge in solitude. To bath in his depression in private.

But now he was lonely. Always surrounded by people, but lonely.

And his thoughts – the unexpected guilt over killed his mortal nemesis, the heart-wrenching pain since his grief hadn't missed a beat – was loud in his ears.

His eyes flashed over to the picture taped to the wall by his bedside.

The moonlight trickled through the bars by the window, lighting the cell enough so he could make out the faces on the picture.

The team, at the CBI Fundraiser, smiling into the camera. But he's looking at one of the faces in particular.

Hers.

She's standing so very close to him; his arm is wrapped around her in a way that doesn't look quite as friendship-based as he thought it was at the time. She's so beautiful: big, blue eyes, ebony tresses curling around her face. The sassy and oddly sensual deep dimple in her one cheek as she smiles...

"Teresa..." He whispers into the cold air, barely audible. He reached out his hand and gently traced her captured face with his finger, wishing with everything he had that he could reach further than the picture, than the wall, and touch her silky-skinned, ivory cheek.

He heard an annoyed grunting in the bunk beneath him, his cellmate turning around uncomfortably.

"Dude," He grumbled. "You've gotta forget about this chick. Just forget about her and stop crying about it! I'm trying to sleep here!"

"Sorry." Jane whispered down at him. He allowed himself one last lingering glance before he turned on his back and stared at the ceiling.

Teresa Lisbon... Seven years of working with her, seven years of teasing and bantering and getting under her skin, and he didn't see it? Not once – well, maybe once, when she had that damned bomb strapped to her. He had been speechlessly terrified of losing her... Or when he saw her wearing that beautiful pink dress, looking like an angry little princess. His only thought then was how much better the dress would've looked in white...

Teresa Lisbon had been the closest thing he'd had to a best friend and confidant in these years. And it took him more than a year apart from her – with nothing more than a picture on his wall and maybe the off sighting at a court date – to realize how important she was, is, in his life.

How her playfully sarcastic banter was the brightest part of his day.

How their compelling arguments challenged him in the best possible way.

How she was everything he had looked for: she knew the darkest part of him and still stayed by his side. Still went above and beyond for him.

Still...

He had that horrible feeling in his stomach now. He had had it only once before, as a teenager when he had met Angela.

Like lead on the heart, metal butterflies rendering his stomach sick and nauseous.

Hopelessly lovesick. With the emphasis on hopelessly.

In that case it was because Angela was the daughter of carnie royalty and he was the lowly fake-psychic son of a gambler.

In this case it was a little worse. Not only was she way too good for him – which she was, his beautiful, good-hearted, saint of a Teresa – but he was a criminal. Stuck in jail.

He should forget about her, but he knew there was no way he could.

"Sorry, man." Joseph, his cellmate, grumbled below. He's in for a hit-and-run. Unfortunately, the victim was also his ex-wife, poor fool. "Sorry, that was harsh, I know that you..."

"Don't worry about it, Joe. There's no chance anyway. I should forget."

"Don't say that. You've got that court date tomorrow, don't you? Didn't your lawyer say something about new evidence, something about getting some plea?"

"Yeah." He said, not much hope in his voice. "But no gun is going to convince a jury of my innocence. It's no use, Joe. You're right. I should forget... I should."

Joe tries in vain to protest again, but he silences him.

Moments later, Joe's asleep again and he's alone.

In the pale, white moonlight he lies on the scratch sheets of his prison bed, lonely and heartbroken. He falls asleep hours later with salt trails staining his cheeks and wet spots on his pillow.

So this was just the prologue. There's a lot more plot coming. Next chap: Jane gets released from prison. I'll probably set it in the court room for a bit, and then outside. Maybe he'll meet Lisbon? Suggestions, suggestions! Let me know what you think!

Much love, Zanny