Chapter 1 - New Lives

Present day

She dragged the bar towel over the dark wood table, drying beer spillage left by the last patrons. She focused on the rings that remained and scrubbed at them with more force, her chestnut waves swaying in the late afternoon breeze as she did so. She looked out the open window to her side and breathed in the sea air. Instantly she was reminded of Jane, could picture him with his shirtsleeves rolled up and his shirt open to the top button of his vest as he grinned, his head tilted so his face could feel the rays of the sun raining down on him. A smile involuntarily made its way across her features and she felt her facial muscles twitch at the unusual sensations it provided them. An accompanying sharp pain in the gut hit her simultaneously and she dropped the smile accordingly and took a sharp intake of breath instead, pulling beer mats out of the back pocket of her jeans and placing them at the four corners of the table. She picked up four empty beer bottles and threaded them through the fingers on one hand before heading back towards the bar.

"Another round over here, Teresa?" one of the regulars called to her as she passed him.

"Sure, Terry," she supplied with a well practised and false smile that never made it to her eyes. "Coming right up."

"So what do we do?" Van Pelt asked her colleagues. Although there were four others around her everyone's attention turned to Jane who was standing in the middle of the CBI bullpen looking out of the window, his hands buried deep in his pockets.

"We need her help," Van Pelt added when no one spoke.

"Do we?" Jane said after another long moment's silence. "She doesn't work here anymore, Grace. It's time to let go."

"Like you have, you mean?" she replied immediately, a bite to her words.

He turned to face her and raised an eyebrow. "And what's that supposed to mean exactly?"

"Nothing," she added with a shrug as she looked away from his penetrating gaze.

"I tried to reach out to her months ago. From her non-response, she's moved on. We should let her get on with her new life. It's obviously what she wants." He paused and sighed as he looked out the window again. "It might even be what she needs."

"You okay, Teresa?" Mike Stoppard asked as Lisbon pulled a beer from the tap in front of her.

"Yeah. Why?" she asked her boss.

"Because for a second there, you looked happy when you wiped the dregs from that table over there."

She rolled her eyes and dropped the glass of beer onto a tray before pulling another one. "What's not to love about this job, Mike? Cleaning up after a bunch of guys who drink here in the afternoon instead of working for a living? It's a real treat," she smirked.

Her boss, a man in his late fifties with a gleaming bald head, laughed and shook his head. "One of these days you'll give me a straight answer," he said.

"I don't recall you asking me a question," she replied with more warmth, enjoying the sparring they sometimes participated in.

"If you didn't tell me you used to be a cop I'd swear you were a con artist with your evasiveness."

For the second time in minutes, she was reminded of her former consultant and her smile fell once again.

"Van Pelt was right earlier," Cho said to Jane after calling him into his office.

Jane stood facing him and shrugged. Even a year after she'd left it still felt like Lisbon's office and not Cho's. Cho himself hadn't moved into it until four months after he'd officially been promoted to team leader and only when the higher ups had insisted on him taking up residence there.

"If you think so then call her, I'm not stopping you," Jane replied.

Cho leant back in his chair. "I already did two days ago. She didn't answer."

Jane shrugged again. "Like I said before then...she's done with this life."

"You could talk her into coming back."

Jane shook his head and smiled faintly. "You overestimate the power of my persuasiveness, Kimball."

Cho shook his head. "No, I don't. Unless you're too afraid to face her."

Jane smiled. "You'll have to do better than use that reverse psychology crap on me, my friend."

"Okay. She was right, you were wrong. We know that for sure now. How about that?" his boss said.

After a long moment, Jane clicked his tongue. "Yeah. I guess that'll do."

Lisbon checked the inventory as a delivery of spirits and beer was unloaded in front of her at the back of the bar she worked in. The Green Swan had been her workplace for almost four months now. Located in Maine, the sleepy oceanfront town of Brentwood bore no resemblance to Chicago or Sacramento, bustling cities she'd spent her life in until she took up residence here. Here life was quiet and mostly mundane, the town only coming to life when fish were caught easily and pockets were full or a tour bus was diverted from larger towns in the area due to road closures or bad weather. She'd chosen it - or, perhaps more correctly, it had chosen her - for the simplicity of life it had offered. It was only when she'd stayed here for a week she'd realised the other reason it had appealed to her. The smell of the sea in the air and the views from the bar she now worked in that looked over the bay reminded her of Jane. She'd naturally noticed the effect the deep blue always had on him when they worked cases close to the Pacific on the other side of the country. It was impossible not to, after all.

He always seemed lighter and happier when he was by the sea as if it gave him a semblance of peace and seeped some of the anger and guilt from his bones. She supposed somewhere in her psyche she wanted it to do the same for her - to cleanse some of the shame and guilt she felt over decisions she'd made and situations she'd found herself in over the past year or so. She wasn't sure how far long that process she was but how she lived her life here was tranquil and calm. She'd still wake up in sweat-drenched nightmares scraping her nails over her arms and legs at least once a week but the days, at least, were better. She hoped, in time, the nights would be too.

So she lived a quiet life, had her routines and had even acquired a few acquaintances. It wouldn't have felt right to call them friends, she'd run out of those when she'd left Sacramento. She gave nothing of her true self away, of course, and settled into being the calm and serene one in company. Sometimes she laughed inwardly at that, once she would have never imagined the words serene and Teresa Lisbon belonging in the same sentence together.

The anger she felt, on the other hand, was buried so deep inside her by now she hardly felt it at all any longer. When it welled up inside her she swallowed it down, further and further and deeper and deeper until nothingness took its place. It was better this way, she told herself, there was too much of it to allow even a smidgen to be released in fury, and she was always fearful of the pressure valve inside her releasing the rest of it at the same time if she did.

Often she wondered what Jane would think of how she lived her life now. Would he mock her? Call her out and tell her she was feeding herself a line of bull? Press her so hard she revealed who she used to be again? Would he make it his business to release the anger inside her? Or would he just look at her with those beautiful sad and hurt eyes? Would he be angry with her? Feel sorry for her?

She wondered occasionally if living here was a punishment to herself too, especially on the days her heart ached for the life she once had, of the person she had been once. A way of forever reminding her of the life she'd walked away from. Of the man she'd walked away from. That being unable to cut that tie she'd settled here instead, a place where he'd most probably like and that made her feel close to him still. She went through cycles of wanting to feel that connection to irrationally hating him for the exact same thing. Though she barely acknowledged to herself how much she missed him in the light of day. Normally it was when she awoke in the middle of the night did her thoughts sometimes turn to such things. Only then did she allow herself to close her eyes and picture his face as she soothed herself back to sleep by trailing fingertips gently over her bare skin, moving lower and making deeper passes until her eyes fluttered under closed eyelids and she moaned. Until she found a temporary release from the anger and the nightmares as she imagined the soft strokes she provided came from him instead.

She closed then opened her eyes and took a breath as she concentrated on the docket in her hands and checked off the delivery, turning her thoughts away from him.

Jane picked up the nondescript beige sedan at the airport and began the five-hour drive to Brentwood. He'd never been to Maine and had to admit it was a beautiful part of the world as he stopped off at quaint little villages for bathroom breaks and snacks. Certainly, at this time of the year it was, winters he imagined were much harsher. But currently Spring was in full bloom and he smiled as he finally saw the sign for the town Lisbon now resided. It was early evening when he arrived at a small B&B he'd booked himself into. He'd already driven around the town to get his bearings and had found the bar she worked in. A shower later he was ravenous and wanted to try the lobster naturally, the speciality of the region. He'd kept his mind busy and away from thoughts of seeing her again and of the reception she might give him. He hadn't called ahead for fear she'd flee before he had a chance to talk to her. But now as he dressed in a three-piece suit and fixed his hair his hunger was rapidly being replaced by nervousness instead. He glanced at his bare wedding ring finger in his reflection, still somewhat strange when he noticed it though it had left his finger three months prior.

He left the car at the B&B and strolled down the path towards the bar. Dusk was approaching and he saw coloured fairy lights switched on outside around the decked terrace as he made it to the parking lot. Only a few vehicles were present and looking through the windows inside appeared quiet too. The jukebox inside quietly played some soft rock tune he couldn't identify as he walked inside. A large fireplace sat unlit at one end of the expansive room and picture windows framed the sea view outside. Dark wooden tables and chairs were strewn inside along with some bench seating for larger crowds. Even though the fire wasn't lit it felt homely and welcoming with its slated floors and a grey brick interior dotted with seascapes. He searched for her immediately but there was no sign of her behind the bar. A rounded baldheaded man waved to him and told him to take a seat with a smile. Jane sat on a barstool and waited for service.

After pouring a beer for what appeared to be a regular by the ribbing about some sports team, the larger man asked him, "You get lost?"

Jane frowned and shook his head. "I don't think so. Why do you ask?"

He pointed to Jane's suit. "Well, you're sure not from here, mister," he laughed. "Thought you must be a tourist who took the wrong turnoff."

Jane smiled at the other man and glanced around the room again. He did look out of place, everyone in the bar wore chunky sweaters and jeans but him.

"Just don't tell me you're from the IRS."

Jane laughed, warming to this man instantly. "No, I'm not. But you're close. My name's Patrick, nice to meet you."

They shook hands. "Mike. What can I get you, Patrick?"

"I don't suppose you serve hot tea here, do you?"

Mike frowned and then smirked. "You don't think a fine establishment like this would serve tea?"

"I don't imagine there's much call for it."

Mike laughed and nodded, "You're right about that. Apart from when the Knitting Circle have their monthly meetings here. And then it's just the cups and saucers they use so they appear more refined than they actually are. More whisky than tea if you know what I mean."

Jane laughed. The man was a natural storyteller and perfect host in his choice of profession.

"What kind would you like?" Mike asked him.

"I don't suppose you have Oolong, do you?" It was meant as a tease more than a straight request.

"We do, actually. Well, when I say we...it's my employee's stash but I'm sure she won't mind a couple of teabags going to a man in need."

Jane blinked quickly when Lisbon had unexpectantly been brought into the conversation. "You sure she wouldn't mind?" he asked evenly, calming his heart rate.

"Teresa? Nah, she's good as gold. Even if she did mind she'd never say anything."

Jane frowned, confused. This hardly sounded like Teresa Lisbon at all. "You sure about that?" he had to ask again.

Mike laughed and nodded to the door. "Well you can always ask her yourself, she's about to start her shift."

Jane swung round in his bar stool and stood up when he saw her at the door with her mouth hanging open. She'd evidently been watching him for a second or two. She was dressed in a pair of blue jeans and a white tight fitting sweater under a black leather jacket. Her hair was tied back in a loose ponytail, a few strands of which had come loose that hung around her ears. She was breathtaking to him in its most literal sense as he found it hard to take a breath and could barely think never mind read her. They locked eyes and he saw her swallow. He didn't move and neither did she for a long moment. He was afraid if he did she'd turn and run right back out the door again.

Her boss interrupted the silence between them. "Hey Teresa, you mind this guy having some of your tea?" he said absently as he placed some money in a till as he turned his back on Jane. He'd been busy serving another customer and had paid little attention to the charged atmosphere suddenly present between this stranger and his employee.

Lisbon blinked first and took a breath as she walked towards Jane. "Hey," she said quietly when she came face to face with him.

"Hey yourself," he replied softly with a small smile.

A/N: Not sure when I'll be updating again but just wanted to get the first chapter out there. Hopefully not too long. The flashback scenes will begin shortly. Just FYI the town of Brentwood is purely from my own imagination.