Oh Gods.

She didn't like this feeling. Or no, the opposite, she didn't like the not-feeling. When was the hurricane inside of her starting? When would the crashing waves hit the shore, to say it in a poetic way. Right now, there was nothing. There was silence and there was numb. And it scared her, even if it was just a little.

She nodded, mutely and put her gun and badge down on the desk. Looked Hightower in the eye for one last moment and then turned on her heels, slowly opening the door with still steady hands and left the office, immediately walking over to hers, not bothering to look at her co-workers.

This hadn't come as a surprise, not at all. In fact, perhaps she could see it as a relief. Because now it was final and she didn't have to worry about it anymore. The huge weight of doubt had fallen off her shoulders and now all there was was…nothing.

Funny how some things work out.

For the first time in years she decided to lock the door, anything for just a little quiet before everyone would ask what had happened and after that, asking for instructions. Her hand stroked the frame on her desk, a picture of her brothers. It had taken long before she actually took it to work with her, just because she was scared people would ask questions. They didn't, surprisingly, although of course Jane's eyes always lingered on the picture a little longer than needed, as if to say: 'hey, Lisbon… Tell me about them, because I know you want to," probably with one of those awful but infectious grins of his.

She folded open a paper box she kept in a drawer nearby, because after all: she was expecting this, this was no surprise and there was no shock that had to be worn off before she was able to leave. There were no tears that she had to keep in. No anger, no pain. There was just … nothing.

After putting all her stuff in the box, she let out a tired sigh and went to put on her coat. Carefully sticking her arms through the sleeves she smoothed the fabric and then took one last look around her office, the shadow of a smile crossing her lips.

Her hands grasped her stuff, tightly and she turned off the light before unlocking the door and stepping outside. The need to say goodbye to her co-workers was strangely enough not there and so she crossed the room to the elevator, waiting for the inevitable to happen.

"Oh, Lisbon!" She heard a triumphant cry, but she didn't turn around to greet him. It was silly of her to think he wouldn't notice, but she couldn't help but hope. "I told you I was right, it was the uncle, you owe me a-" He paused in his happy chatter when his eyes found the box in her hands and his mouth opened to say something, anything. "What…"

She shook her head, quietly and threw a smile at him that lacked emotion. Her eyes weren't filled with pain, they didn't show happiness or something real. Instead they were filled with… nothing.

"She fired you?" He then managed to say, and she nodded. "Yeah," She replied, "yeah, she did." She could see his jaw and tense and took a deep breath. "Jane, it's okay." He spluttered with surprise and irony sparked within her, because no matter how dramatic this was: she had finally caught him off guard. After all these years, she could proudly say she had beaten Jane. At what, no clue, but victorious it was.

"No, it's not," He fought back, still a little shock on his face. "I'll make sure they take you back, Teresa. They can't do this." She balanced her box on one arm and used her other to pat him on the shoulder, comfortly. "Yes, they can, Jane. And you're going to let them. Now," she smiled, letting him go and shifting the box back into both arms again. "watch out for the team for me, okay? I mean, Van Pelt and Rigsby. Cho doesn't really need it." She joked, then sighed, nodding to herself. "You know what? I think I'm going to take the stairs for once." She brushed past him, while he stared at the floor with a distant, forlorn look. He really wanted to say something that would make her change her mind, but he was experiencing a blackout and his mouth just wouldn't move.

"Oh, and Jane?" She called, making his head snap around so he could face her. She was standing next to the door that lead to the stairwell, a smile again present on her face. "It's been an honour working with you." She said, clearly and then disappeared out of his sight.

Days later, Jane couldn't help himself and silently made his way to her apartment. Things just weren't the same without her at the office. Van Pelt had been absolutely heartbroken when she heard Lisbon had left, Rigsby was just as shocked. Cho had frowned, but it was a horrible frown. A frown that said: "Why? This is not right, this is not right. Why? Why? Why?" It was painful for Jane to watch. They all missed her, that was for sure.

So there he was, knocking on her door and he waited and he waited, until he had enough and used his shoulder (which was extremely painful, props to cops, so to speak) to get inside.

He ended up in the middle of her living room, staring brokenly at the bare wall, slight shadows on the places where once paintings and frames hung. Instead of finding Lisbon, he had found an empty apartment. Instead of finding her, he had found… nothing.

He didn't like this feeling. Or no, the opposite, he didn't like the not-feeling. When was the hurricane inside of him starting? When would the crashing waves hit the shore, to say it in a poetic way. Right now, there was nothing. There was silence and there was numb. And it scared him, even if it was just a little.

Well, this is awkward...