A/N: Hello Everyone! Those of you who have read the latest update on my crossover know the story, but I wanted to share once more for those that don't read it. I apologize for being absent for so long! I was in a horrific car accident a few months ago, and my legs were pretty much destroyed. I've been in some major physical therapy, and I'm finally relearning to walk. (I can stand for about a minute now! Woohoo!) I really, really wanted to write, but just wasn't in the right frame of mind to put anything together. But, I think I'm finally feeling more like myself!

I'm pretty rusty, so I started this new series of one shots to help before I tackle more plot based fic! I stole the prompt list from Tromana's '50 Ways to Feel' who has a list of 50 emotions from the Fantasy Script Forum. I don't know if I'll do all 50, but I'll sure try!

A HUGE thank you to Tromana, LilSmiles, and Chibi for keeping me going through this intense times! Your MSN conversations, notes, and messages have really helped me stay positive. I don't know what I'd do without you ladies! This is, of course, dedicated to you! Thank you, Thank you, Thank you!

Title: Determined
Author: Divinia Serit
Rating: T (for language)
Disclaimer: Not mine! Although, thanks for bringing me such wonderful friends!
Prompt: 'Determined' and the Paint It Red January Challenge

"An optimist stays up until midnight to see the new year in. A pessimist stays up to make sure the old year leaves."
- Bill Vaughn

Thud.

Thud.

"Good. Ten more times," Lucy said.

Lisbon picked up the weighted ball with a sigh. Eyeing her target, she began the catch and release process that helped re-strengthen her shoulder. She didn't mind the strength training exercises. Those were almost fun. It was the range of motion exercises that were excruciating. Those made her want to shoot someone.

She had forgotten how much it hurt.

Not the actual shot itself, although that did hurt like hell. But, what happened after.

The white-hot blinding pain was soothed to a dull ache with a bit of Dilaudid. Morphine and Percocet never seemed to have much of an effect on her. She hated the drugs. Sure, the pain relief was worth it, but she hated the way they made her feel. Confused. Apathetic. She just wanted to lie in bed and not do a single thing. Unfortunately, lying in bed without doing anything gave her too much time to think. Just when she'd relax enough to fall asleep, another nurse would push her way in with an apologetic smile for another vitals check. Lisbon swore they timed it purposely. Thankfully, that only lasted a few days. She wasn't sure she could have taken much more before snapping at someone. She hated losing control.

With her discharge, came a whole new set of problems. She was on desk duty which meant more paperwork and increased frustration. She loved being in the field. The movement alone was a huge outlet for her emotions. If she wanted a desk job, she'd have chosen a different career path. Like accounting: nothing was more noble than crunching numbers. She snorted. Not that she didn't have respect for people with other careers, hell, she always had to pull out a calculator for her expense reports. It's just that she was no more an accountant than Patrick Jane was a dentist.

The thought of Jane made her pause.

The weighted ball flying passed her head made her reconsider.

With a sheepish expression, she collected the ball and restarted her exercises. Throw the ball at the center of the trampoline, and catch when it bounced back. It was simple enough until they added the balancing exercises in with it. As she kept count in her head, her thoughts began to wander once more. Physical therapy wasn't horrible. She actually enjoyed it a majority of the time. It was nice to stretch her shoulder, and getting out of the house was a blessing. She found the company of the others in the office quite comforting, and the atmosphere was very encouraging. Everyone worked towards the shared goal of recovery. It also put injuries into perspective when she noticed people going through much more strenuous therapy practices than she had to do. It could have been much worse.

Putting the ball aside, she stood up and grabbed the large bucket by the wall. Walking back and forth, she frowned at the strain on her shoulder. Granted, she was showing progress, but it wasn't quick enough for her. Her team was a mess. Jane was in jail. And she wasn't in a position to fix any of it. She glanced beside her at the amazing progress made by a boy relearning to walk after a rock climbing accident. It could be worse. She could be dead. Jane could be dead. Hightower could be dead. All in all, it was a pretty successful case. If only Jane hadn't gone and shot an unarmed man.

She let out a soft gasp as Lucy applied pressure to her shoulder. Closing her eyes tightly, she counted to fifteen and the pressure released. She raised her arm for a few seconds before relaxing it back down. Stretching she tried to increase the degrees her arm would bend. Lucy pressed down once more. Lisbon's eyes watered and the process repeated for twenty minutes. Towards the end of her session, Lucy brought her an ice pack and a piece of chocolate. She smiled at the older woman. The last fifteen minutes were her favorite. It was rare that Lisbon had the chance to relax, but she always allowed herself the indulgence after therapy. Unwrapping the candy, she leaned back on the table as her should began to numb from the cold. She closed her eyes and let the chocolate melt in her mouth. Once again, thoughts of her wayward consultant refused to leave.

"You're frowning, sweetie. What's his name?"

Lucy's voice broke her concentration, and she opened her eyes to see the therapist standing beside her with an expectant look. Lisbon couldn't help but grin. The older woman naturally made you want to confess your deepest, darkest secrets with no fear of rebuttal.

"He's…," Lisbon paused as she tried to decide just how to explain Patrick Jane.

"He wouldn't be that handsome blonde that was all over television for murdering that despicable serial killer, now would he?"

Lisbon felt her face flush as her grin became pained.

"That would be him."

"Ahhh."

The two women sat in silence for a few minutes, before Lucy pointed to a teen girl throwing the same ball Lisbon held earlier. She studied Lisbon with a sharp eye.

"Sometimes, you have to release something before you can catch it again," Lucy said with a sage smile as she gently patted Lisbon's knee.

Grabbing the ice pack, she shot Lisbon one more glance before disappearing into the back room. Lisbon sat, thoughtfully watching the ball bounce back and forth. She felt a remarkable importance in this small moment. She could choose to give up and let everything pass by, or she could start over. Reassess her situation, and look forward to the opportunities and challenges in front of her. Gently massaging her shoulder, she picked up her wallet and headed towards the door. Her stride was determined once more.