A/N: Welcome to my new fic. As the title suggests it's a story that takes place after Red John is dead and gone. This first chapter is a little angsty, but this should be a comedy mostly. Enjoy!

Post Red

Rain fell on the Sacramento streets in a way Lisbon hadn't seen in years. It was as if someone had turned a bucket of water upside down in the city. She might have enjoyed it if she weren't currently in it getting soaked. She blamed Jeff Olsen, the man she was now convinced was responsible for his business partner's death. He had decided to resist arrest by running, and she was suffering from the consequences.

She raced down the back alley, behind his place of business, with water running into her eyes when he suddenly turned on her. This wasn't the first time something like this had happened to her, men often thought they could get the drop on her because she was so much smaller than them, but she'd learned that the best way to handle it was to simply plow them down. And it became more imperative that she do so when they pulled weapons on her. He barely had time to lift the gun before she slammed into him and knocked him into the gutter right behind him with a big splash.

His gun flew from his hand, but he was determined and managed to get a blow to her ribs in with his elbow, knocking her to the ground next to him. She gasped at the sudden rough impact, but as he stood up she grabbed his foot and brought him to the ground again. She kept moving and practically leapt onto his back, pulling his arms behind him as she shoved his head into a small puddle of water in the concrete.

She pushed aside her water logged jacket and removed her handcuffs. "Jeff Olsen, you are under arrest for the murder of Kevin Jacobson, resisting arrest and assaulting an officer."

She read him the rest of his rights as Rigsby ran up behind her. Jeff Olsen started cussing as Rigsby helped her pull him to his feet. He was bleeding from his temple.

"You okay, boss?" Rigsby asked.

She nodded. "I'm fine."

"I'm bleeding!" Mr. Olsen hollered.

Lisbon shoved him forward, then tried unsuccessfully to wipe a stream of water from her brow. "Yeah, well maybe you shouldn't have resisted arrest."

"You should pray that Agent Cho doesn't find out you she had to tackle you," Rigsby said as Lisbon pushed Mr. Olsen to him.

"Don't you dare tell him," she said as Rigsby grabbed Mr. Olsen's cuffs. He nodded at her before leading Mr. Olsen up the street. Everyone feared an angry, protective Cho.

Lisbon scowled as she tried to pry her wet shirt from her skin, then winced when the movement made her side ache. Despite herself she started thinking about the nice weather they were having in Malibu, and for the first time since she found out she was going there this weekend, feeling glad for it. Besides, it was a big city, there was no way she'd see Jane. It wasn't like he'd tethered himself to Malibu. As far as she knew, which she admitted wasn't much, he hadn't been there at all in the last year. She had nothing to worry about.

It was still raining heavily by afternoon when the mail arrived in Lisbon's office. Both Rigsby and she had been grateful that they kept overnight bags at the office and had changed into dry clothes as soon as they'd gotten back. Jeff Olsen wasn't so lucky and Lisbon wondered if the state would allow them to douse suspects before interrogating them. Cho had pulled a confession out of Mr. Olsen in record time and she was sure part of that had to do with the fact that he was wet and cold. As far as she was concerned it served him right.

She checked herself out in the mirror when she got back, horrified to see that she had a huge black and blue bruise covering her side where she'd been elbowed. She'd taken a pain killer and promptly pushed it out of her mind.

Hours later it was still hurting, but she was determined to remain placid about it. She started going through her mail when a brightly colored post card, with a picture of Hawaiian dancers on the cover, caught her eye. She pulled it out and turned it over, smiling slightly, then frowning after seeing who it was from. Not that she'd been particularly surprised; he'd sent a postcard to the team once a month since he'd left. She felt her teeth grinding, but forced herself to relax. She took a couple deep breaths, plastered a smile on her face and walked out to the bullpen, postcard in hand.

"Jane sent us a post card," she announced stopping at Grace's desk before turning to face Cho and Rigsby.

Grace smiled as Lisbon handed her the card. Lisbon had read the first three he'd sent out loud, but after that she'd started delegating.

"Has it been a month already?" Rigsby asked.

Cho nodded. "What's it say?" he asked Grace.

She shook her head and started reading. "Dear Team, I find myself in lovely Hawaii, enjoying the sun, and relaxed atmosphere. They have the most delicious mango tea here that teases your taste buds and I found an amazing dinner that makes an egg salad sandwich to die for. As a matter of fact I'm eating one right now. This is the first time I've ever been to Hawaii and I'm finding I rather enjoy it. Maybe I'll stay here forever. At very least for the next week. I miss you all and hope you are doing well. Sincerely, Patrick Jane. P.S. Never forget."

Rigsby licked his lips. "Why does he always have to tell us what he's eating?"

Lisbon was at no loss as to why he did that. It was his way of making sure she knew he was eating. She'd never told the team that though, nor had she told them why he always added the, seemingly random, post script. They asked about it the first couple of times, but after she'd denied knowing what it meant both times they decided to let it go. She was glad they had, because she didn't want to think about it.

Grace grabbed a piece of tape and tapped the post card on the glass next to her desk with the others. "Wow," she exclaimed, counting the cards. "He's been gone a year. I thought he'd be back by now."

"When was the last time you talked to him?" Cho asked.

She shrugged. "I can't remember," she lied. It was six months ago. She'd stopped answering when he called, but it wasn't like he called all that often. Once for every two postcards.

"Too bad he won't be in Malibu this weekend," Grace said. "If he were, you could meet him and ask if he were planning on coming back or not."

Rigsby sat up at that. "Or find out what he wants to do with his couch."

Lisbon glanced over her shoulder at the familiar brown couch and felt a chill run up her spine. It was the only real reminder they had left of Jane. She'd insisted it stay put, but lately seeing it only caused her pain. Now was no different.

"When do you want to go?" Cho asked her, dragging her out of her thoughts.

He had insisted on taking her to the airport. He'd more or less taken over the job of caring for her when Jane left. He'd always been awesome, but he was on a whole new level now. He frequently took Lisbon to lunch, asked her how she was sleeping, and fussed over her whenever she was injured. The office had even started a betting pool over whether or not they were sleeping together. They bet was completely ridiculous, of course, but she thought it even more so because he was still as stoic and quiet as he'd ever been with her. At least the one with Jane had made some sense.

She looked at her watch. "I should probably go now. Rigs, Grace, you can go home when you finish whatever you're working on."

"Are you sure?" Grace asked.

She nodded. "Yeah, it's the weekend and since I'm out of town until Monday we won't be on call."

"I wish I were going on vacation," Grace said.

"I hear the weather is nice in Malibu," Rigsby told her almost wistfully.

Lisbon raised a hand. "It's not a vacation. Walter Mashburn called the director and insisted that I go to his fundraiser. I'd take the rain over Walter," she told them, even though she wasn't being totally honest. She wanted the sunshine, but was nervous about seeing Mashburn. It'd been years after all.

"I thought you liked Mashburn. Or he likes you…" Cho stood up and grabbed his coat.

"Walter's fine, I guess." She shrugged. "See you Monday," she said to Rigsby and Grace on her way out of the bullpen.

Cho followed her into her office and grabbed her weekend bag that she'd set next to her couch, as she put her jacket on. She fought the urge she had to tell him she'd carry it. She learned better in the last year. It really was a good thing he didn't know that Mr. Olsen had hurt her.

"Did you pack what I told you?" Cho asked as they waited for the elevator.

Her brow furrowed, he'd come over to her house during the week and helped her pick out what clothes to take with her. She hadn't thought anything about it until early the next morning. She woken up at three A.M. and wondered why in the hell he'd done that and why she'd let him. Then worried about how natural it'd been despite that they'd never done anything like it before.

"Yeah," she took a deep breath before continuing. "I did."

"Good." He hadn't noticed her snipped tone.

Lisbon walked though the Hilton and to the restaurant in the main lobby. The hotel assured her that they made excellent strawberry covered waffles and even though this wasn't technically a vacation, the CBI had paid for her flight and Walter had insisted on paying for her room so that she couldn't use expense as reason not to come, she decided she was going to splurge a little. It was well after nine when she'd arrived at the hotel last night and she'd gone right to sleep, skipping dinner entirely, and because of that she was starved now.

She was just glad that Cho hadn't remembered to ask her if she'd eaten when he texted her lat night to make sure she'd arrived safely. He was like having a protective older brother. She was still getting used to it. She'd spent her entire life taking care of other people that she wasn't quite sure how to take this. Although, if she was being fair, Jane had always taken care of her as well, maybe not as extensively, but he had.

After she ordered she started people watching. Cho had insisted that she take the white sundress that he'd found at the back of her closet. She'd purchased it a couple of years ago, but had never worn it. She'd put it in her bag, but the next morning she replaced it with the jeans and t-shirt she was wearing now. He'd told her that she needed to get out more, go on dates. That's why he'd insisted on the dress, but she couldn't imagine a dress helping her with that.

Besides, she wasn't as hopeless as he seemed to think she was. As a matter of fact, she'd gone on a date a few weeks ago. They hadn't clicked, but she was getting out, sort of. She slumped back in her chair and looked at her glass of water. Okay, she had to admit, I'm pathetic.

She looked around the restaurant again and saw the side of a man sitting at a booth, only a few seats away from her. She didn't have a great view, could really only see a little of the side and back of him, she couldn't even see his head, but something about him caught her attention. He was wearing jeans and a light blue t-shirt and had great arms. She smirked, pleased that she wasn't so broken she couldn't at least enjoy an attractive man…or buff arm. Whatever.

She looked back at her table, picked up her water and took a sip as a waiter walked up to the man's table and asked him if she could get his drink order.

"Yes," he said. "Do you have Oolong tea?"

Lisbon spat her water out, slid to the edge of her booth, and glanced around the edge of the man's booth, then slammed back into her own booth again, barely noticing the pain shooting up her side.

"Absolutely," the waitress said.

Blond curls! Jane!

"Perfect, I'll have that and some loosely scrambled eggs on rye toast with one slice of bacon and one sausage. Thanks," Jane told the waitress, who winked at him before walking away.

Lisbon felt herself scowling at the pretty waitress before she surveyed the restaurant for an escape. It only took her a moment before she saw that the only way out was to walk right past him. She decided to risk it, better than waiting for him to notice her. She'd just have to walk to the far end of the restaurant before going past his table. There were several tables between them and if she covered her face with her jacket as she passed, she could probably walk right out.

She stood and made her way to the far side of the restaurant before crossing toward the exit. She stuck her arm though her jacket as she passed his table, effectively covering her face and could now see the exit. She was going to make it.

"Lisbon?" she heard from behind her as she was about to pass through the doors.

She stopped in her tracks, closed her eyes and breathed out, before turning and forcing a smile. "Jane?"

He had gotten out of his booth and was moving in her direction with the mega-watt smile she'd once gotten used to, but was now making her feel a little weak in the knees. Plus he looked amazing in jeans and a t-shirt, she couldn't ever remember seeing him like that before and she was pissed at how amazing he looked. Damn him.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, not expecting that once he reached her he'd throw his arms around her and bury his face in her hair. She felt her body go stiff as his hold on her tightened. She patted him awkwardly on the back.

He pulled back, keeping her shoulders in his grasp and looked at her. "You look wonderful."

"I thought you were in Hawaii," she said smiling. You were supposed to be in Hawaii! Not in my hotel eating breakfast!

"I left a few days ago. I've been needing to take care of some things here, so I came home early," he explained.

Her stomach twisted at his use of the word "home". Malibu was his home, not Sacramento. "Ah," was all she could manage. She'd imagined what it'd be like to see him again hundreds of times, all in the first six months he'd been gone, of course, and none of her imaginings were anything like this. Granted, she had spent the last six months effectively not thinking of him.

"Were you leaving?"

She shook her head, then thought about it and nodded. "Yeah, I'm on my way out. Things to do, people to see."

He smiled at her, and she knew immediately that he knew she was lying. "Come sit with me," he requested. It felt more like an order though. "I'd love to catch up."

She looked over her shoulder toward the exit, trying to come up with some sort of excuse, but before she could lock her mind around one, he'd slid his hand down her arm, grabbed her hand and started pulling her toward his table.

He slowed momentarily when he saw a waitress and called out to her. "Could you bring her breakfast to my table and put it on my tab, please."

The waitress nodded, and Lisbon glared. He didn't even have the decency to pretend he hadn't known she was trying to make a run for it. He kept hold of her hand until she was sliding into her side of the booth, then released it to sit down himself. It was a moment before either of them spoke.

"So, how have you been?" he asked as they lifted their drinks in unison and took a sip. He smile grew and Lisbon's brow furrowed. She didn't even want to think what that was about.

Warmth filled her, and while it had initially been a pleasant feeling, she was now irritated by it. "I'm good. The team's good. We still have the highest closure rate in the state," she said feeling proud. It was true, not as high as when Jane worked with them, but still much higher than any other team. "We get asked for a lot, which is irritating, but I guess that's part of the job."

"The team that caught the notorious Red John, is it any wonder you get asked for frequently?" he inquired with a raise of his brow.

She dropped her head to avoid his gaze. He had been part of that team. "Yes, well. That's the nature of the beast, I suppose."

He reached across the table and took her hand in his. "I've missed you, Teresa," he whispered.

She scoffed. "Sure."

His brow furrowed and she was a little pleased that she'd wiped his annoying smile off his perfect face. "You know I did. Every day."

The waitress arrived then with their food and she took this opportunity to pull her hands back and place them in her lap. Jane thanked the waitress, before she walked away and Lisbon couldn't help but notice the dirty look the girl gave her as she left. If only the girl knew what I'd saved her from, she thought as she picked up her own utensils.

"I am glad I ran into. Grace was just saying that it was a shame you wouldn't be here so I could ask if you were planning on coming back," she said just before she shoved a bite of strawberry, whip cream and waffle into her mouth.

Jane looked up at her startled. She felt her chin pull back and quickly replayed her words in her head. She thought it was fine, unless of course he assumed she knew he wouldn't be coming back and was horrified at the notion of having to tell her that.

He sat his utensils down, took a sip of his tea. It was then that she noticed his ring was gone. The skin around his finger had even darkened a little too. It was still lighter than the rest of his hand, but she she figured her probably would have had to have gone months without it, for the tan to be fading so much. He'd taken it off. Never in a million years had she ever thought he'd actually do that. It took her a moment to realize he'd spoken to her. She pulled her eyes away from his hand and looked him in the eyes.

"Huh?" she asked.

He spoke as if her response wasn't unusual. "What did you tell her?" He sat his tea down.

Her brow furrowed as she tried to remember the string of the conversation. She had to shake her head before it came back to her. "Oh, Grace? Nothing, you weren't supposed to be here, so it was moot." She felt her eyes flick to his ring finger again.

"What would you have said?" he demanded.

Her shock immediately vanished and she was irritated once again. Only Jane could have her emotions whipping around like a trick roper in a rodeo. She forced herself to relax and answer calmly. "I don't know what I would have said."

She thought that seeing him mad would be vindicating, but it didn't, she just felt empty.

"I told you I was coming back, Teresa," he said through gritted teeth. "Never forget…"

She sat forward. "You say a lot of things, and I was never very good at knowing what was what with you. Which, by the way, you used to like to remind me of on a near daily basis." His face dropped, but she continued. "It's been a year, and frankly time away from you has done nothing to improve my ability to tell when you're being sincere."

"Teresa…"

Her jaw clenched tightly for a moment. "I wasn't trying to make you feel bad," she said honestly. "I'm glad that you seem to be moving on with your life. I've only ever wanted you to be happy. You are happy, aren't you?"

He sighed. "I'm getting there."

She felt a pang in her stomach, but forced a smile. "You look good. I never thought I'd see you in jeans and a t-shirt, but I guess there's a first time for everything."

He chuckled and puffed his chest out at her admiring gaze. "I do feel a little like a fish out of water, but I'm headed over to my house today to do some yard work and I figured a three piece suit probably wouldn't be the best idea."

She laughed at the image of Jane pulling weeds in his pin stripped suit. "I think you made the right choice. So, you're staying in the hotel?"

"I'm having the inside of the house painted." His smile was contagious and she found herself smiling in earnest. He continued, "I didn't think it'd be healthy to sleep there with all the fumes."

"Not just looks, but brains too, huh?" she teased.

He raised his hand to face and cupped around his mouth before whispering, "Don't tell anyone or the gig will be up."

She rolled her eyes. "Heaven forbid."

"This is nice," he said after a moment.

Her stomach lurched. It was nice, but here he was painting a picture for her that more than suggested he was intending on staying in Malibu and that he'd already moved on with his life, and she was the fool who was allowing him to draw her back in. She could already see the months ahead of her having to pretend she was fine when all she would really want to be doing is ripping out her insides so she could stop feeling so damned much. Why couldn't she have thought of an excuse when she first tried to leave.

"I'd better get going," she said reaching for her wallet. "I actually do have things that I need to get done today."

"You haven't finished your breakfast," Jane pointed at her plate.

She glanced down at her waffle, then at his eggs. They'd both been completely forgotten. "It's cold. I'm actually not as hungry as I thought, anyway," she said throwing a ten onto the table as she stood up.

He stood as well and grabbed her arm and she tried not to wince by being slightly jostled. "Are you busy tonight?" he asked.

She glanced at his hand on her arm, then up to his face, ignoring the immediate increase of her heart beat. "Yes. I'm here for work and I'm afraid they have me detained for the evening." She started to leave when she made an abrupt decision. "If you're ever in Sacramento again, come by. I know the team would be happy to see you." She smiled kindly at him as he removed his hand from her arm and shoved it into his pocket.

He tilted his head to the side a little. "I think it's important that we…"

"Goodbye, Jane." She forced herself to make eye contact and shivered at the intensity of his hurt gaze before turning and exiting the restaurant.

She went immediately back to her room and pulled her phone from her pocket. She was a little irritated but not at all surprised when the ten she'd left on the table fell out of her pocket. She dialed Cho and he answered immediately.

"Everything all right?" he asked.

She shrugged, perplexed that he always imagined the worse even though he didn't have a basis for it. "Yes, fine. I want you to move Jane's couch into storage for me. If you need to replace it with filing cabinets that's fine."

"Sure thing, Boss," Cho said. He was still a man of few words and she was pleased that he didn't feel a need to ask her why she'd suddenly decided to do it. "Have you eaten?"

She flopped back onto her bed. Now if he'd just stop worrying about whether or not she'd eaten.

A/N: I'd love to know what you think. The last chapter of In the Details should be up tomorrow.