A/N: This story was not something, once I thought of it, that I was anxious to pursue. But the more I thought about it, and the more my friend, Nerwen Aldarion encouraged me (okay, BUGGED me), the more I couldn't get it out of my head. So, here it is. Some of the idea was stolen from Lolita, some from other movies like The Crush, but there is a major difference here—Jane will not be tempted by this girl. So don't worry, if that was a concern of yours. It will be all one-sided on her part, I promise. This is considerably darker than my usual fare, but I don't think I can go on without a bit of comic relief from time to time. There will be Jisbon as well, so hang in there.

Thanks for reading yet another of my stories. And for those new to my work, welcome!

Ruby Tears

From "The Little Girl Lost"

Leopards, tigers, play
Round her as she lay;
While the lion old
Bowed his mane of gold,

And her bosom lick,
And upon her neck,
From his eyes of flame,
Ruby tears there came;

~William Blake

Chapter 1

"This is Mr. Jane, Cherish," said the young girl's mother, her voice shaking with emotion. "He's the one who figured out where you were being held."

Cherish looked up at Jane, her blue eyes large and welling in her gamine face. Knowing instinctively what was coming, Jane stepped back a pace, but it was too little too late, for the girl hurled herself at him in a rush of police blankets and flying pigtails.

"Thank you!" she whispered against his chest, hugging him for all she was worth. Jane stood there awkwardly, his hands at his side. He caught Lisbon's eyes, noting the amusement at his plight, but also their glossiness from her own barely checked emotion. They'd saved Cherish-all of the team had-but it was Jane's insight into the mind of a kidnapper that had led to this moment, and Lisbon shuddered to think what would have happened to the girl if they had not found her when they had.

Lisbon nodded once in encouragement, so Jane patted Cherish's slim back in tentative consolation. After a moment, when he tried to politely extricate himself, the girl held on even more tightly, and, laughing tearfully, her mother came to Jane's rescue, pulling her daughter gently away from her savior.

"Thank, you, Mr. Jane. From the bottom of my heart—I don't know what I would have done if I'd lost her."

"Happy to have helped," Jane muttered uncomfortably. Cherish continued to stare at him, tears falling unabated down her pale cheeks, even looking back at him over her shoulder as her mother led her to the waiting ambulance. It would take her to the hospital for a full examination and rape kit.

Lisbon joined him as they watched mother and child depart. She reached out and touched his hand as the police car lights flashed in the darkness around them.

"Hey," she said. "You did a great thing. You deserve their gratitude."

Jane shrugged. Nothing he thought to say would be adequate. All in a day's work? I was just doing my job? This doesn't come close to making up for all the horrible things I've done in my life?

"Well, I'm grateful too," she said. "We were at a dead end with this case, and if you hadn't—"

"Lisbon, please," he protested weakly, holding up a hand in defeat. "I'm glad we found her. Can we please just skip to the closed-case pizza and be done with it?"

She grinned. "Okay," she said softly. "When Cho's finished grilling him down at HQ, we'll order some pizza. My treat this time."

This was enough to bring forth a grin; she must have forgotten that it was actually his turn to pay.

"Double pepperoni?" he asked.

She made a face at the prospect of all the extra fat, but said, "Sure."

"You know, Lisbon," he told her as they strolled back to the CBI SUV. "There was something not quite right about this whole thing."

"Aside from the fact that a sicko creep had abducted and held a young girl against her will for a week?"

"Yes," he said thoughtfully, ignoring her sarcasm. "It's the kidnapper, Roberts. He protested he hadn't done anything from the moment you guys busted into his house."

"What else would he have said, Jane?"

"I don't know. I know he was caught red-handed, but I have the nagging feeling he was telling the truth."

"Well, we'll let a jury of his peers decide," she said.

Even though Jane had been right on everything else in this case, she had seen with her own eyes the depravity on display in the man's house. He had a room that looked like a scene from Fifty Shades of Grey—not that she'd read the book, of course—but there was all sorts of S&M paraphernalia and other sex toys hanging on the walls, and a king-sized, four-poster bed equipped with manacles at each post. She shivered in disgust just thinking of what that poor girl must have gone through.

"Whatever you say," said Jane, but he was somber again as they drove back to the CBI.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxx

Cho was already interrogating their suspect as Jane entered the observation room.

"I'm telling you," said Jimmy Roberts, "she wanted this. She came to me."

Cho gave him his trademark cold stare. "You're telling me that a seventeen-year-old girl approached you, a forty-five year old man, for S&M? You weren't stalking her at her school, watching and waiting for your chance to abduct her?"

"No!" said the man, clearly horrified. "She found me on the internet, on a sex chat site. She told me she was eighteen…"

"We have witnesses that say they saw you push her into your van and drive away from the school."

"That was part of the game, the scenario we planned together. She was supposed to be the innocent schoolgirl, and wear her uniform and everything. You can check my computer; it's all there."

"We'll do that," said Cho. "If what you say is true, how do you explain her not being in contact with her mother for a week?"

"What? I had no idea. She said her parents were out of town. I assumed she called them. She wasn't a prisoner, I swear. She could have left anytime. And we had…safe words."

Cho raised an eyebrow. "Were any of those words, stop, I want to go home?"

"Where's my goddamn lawyer?" replied the man angrily, and Cho could tell he was clamming up for good now.

"You might want to hold off on that pizza; he's telling the truth," said Jane on the other side of the window. He was certain of it now.

Beside him, Lisbon had her arms folded across her chest. She clearly wasn't buying it.

"I'll wait for the rape kit," she said skeptically.

"Okay," he said. "Your call."

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"See," said Lisbon, a few hours later. "I told you so. Preliminary examinations from the hospital show that she was raped, violently and repeatedly. She has bruises all over her body. Plus, We're just waiting for the DNA tests, but I'm convinced he did it. I hope that bastard rots."

Jane was sitting on his couch, calmly drinking his tea. She handed him the fax that was sent over from the hospital. He set down his cup and examined the report closely for a few minutes.

"This could be explained by rough sex," he said.

"What?"

"You heard me. Don't be naïve, Lisbon. Teenagers today are all kinds of screwed up."

"I can't believe you're actually blaming the victim, here. She's only a child—"

"I want to talk to her," he interrupted.

Lisbon, still shocked at his contentions, shook her head. "Her mother says she's too distraught for questioning. Give her a day or two to calm down."

"Fine. But you might want to keep an open mind, Lisbon."

She paused, her eyes narrowing. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"You're obviously uncomfortable with this topic."

"Rape of a minor—yeah, that makes me pretty damn uncomfortable."

She watched a brief light of amusement flicker in his eyes, then fade so quickly she might have imagined it.

"I'll know for sure when I talk to her. I assume you'll press for Ardilles to indict Mr. Roberts?"

"Yes."

Jane nodded. "You can't wait a day or two?"

"I can only hold him so long without charging him, Jane. Even if this were consensual—which I highly doubt—we still have him for statutory rape. He admitted they'd had sex."

"Hmm," said Jane noncommittally. Lisbon stood staring at him, wishing not for the first time that she could read him as easily as he could read her.

"I think you're wrong about this, Jane."
"I hope I'm right though, because that would mean this girl wasn't raped and tortured for a week. I thought you were generally the optimistic one."

"Maybe so, but I'm also a realist. Either way, this man is a sick, sick individual, and he'll do time for it, if it's the last thing I do."

"Hmm."

She blew out a breath in exasperation at his attitude, then turned on her heel and left the bullpen. Thoughtfully, Jane tossed the hospital report on the couch beside him and picked up his tea again. He was pleased to note it was now the perfect temperature for sipping.

Xxxxxxxxxxxx

The next day, Jimmy Roberts was being held on a federal complaint of kidnapping and a state charge of statutory rape. Everyone was waiting for Cherish Barto's statement to make it an open and shut case, and the DNA test results would be the final nail in Roberts's coffin. So it was with great surprise that Jane saw the girl entering the bullpen that morning carrying a cloth-covered basket.

She looked much different from the seemingly traumatized rape victim of the night before. Her long, dark hair was shiny now, and held back by a pink headband, her face scrubbed clean, devoid of cosmetics. She wore a black skirt, pink flowered blouse, and Mary Jane patent leather shoes. Just beneath her sleeves, he could see the red marks on her wrists that only came from tight handcuffs, but other than that, she looked none the worse for wear. It remained to be seen, however, what she had suffered on the inside.

Her mother close behind her, Cherish approached Jane on his couch. He rose respectfully.

"Mr. Jane," she began timidly. "Agent Lisbon told me you like blueberry muffins, so…I made you some myself." She held out the basket.

Jane looked directly into Cherish's guileless blue eyes, trying to break past the innocent facade. And it was a façade—he was quite sure of it. As Lisbon came into the bullpen, he took the proffered basket. At her desk, Van Pelt looked a little misty eyed, and Lisbon smiled at the girl's touching gesture of gratitude.

"Thank you, Cherish," he said with a benign smile. "That wasn't necessary."

The girl shrugged. "You saved me," she said simply.

"Hmm," came the noncommittal sound he'd been making more and more of late. Behind Cherish and her mother, Lisbon frowned.

"Let's go where we can have some privacy," Lisbon said.

"You'll have to speak to ADA Ardilles as well," said Jane, testing her. "He'll want to hear your story himself. Will it be too…painful to repeat again?"

"No," she said, trying to sound brave. "I can do it."

Jane nodded. "Good. Shall we?" He held out his hand for the two visitors and Lisbon to precede him. He handed the basket off to Rigsby on the way past his desk.

"Cool," muttered the agent. Cho rolled his chair backward to retrieve a muffin of his own.

Lisbon and Jane would take Cherish's statement. Well, to Jane, he had more of an interrogation in mind.

"Okay," began Lisbon delicately, once they had all sat down around the interrogation room table. "Just tell us what happened, from the day you were taken." She pressed a button on a small machine. "I'm sorry, but I have to record this."

"That's okay," said Cherish. She glanced at the one-way window of the interrogation room. "Is there anyone else watching?"

"No," said Lisbon. "It's just us. You ready?"

Cherish looked at her mother, who squeezed her hand in encouragement. Jane sat back in his chair, absorbing both the spoken and unspoken words of the so-called victim.

She told the same story as her friends at school, of being pushed into the van, handcuffed, then a black pillowcase thrown over her head. She was brought to Roberts's house where he repeatedly raped her and used various sexual paraphernalia to sodomize and torture her for days on end. He kept her prisoner, keeping her naked almost the entire time.

Jane nearly smiled when she glance at him while telling the most salacious details of her captivity. She was gauging his reaction, just as he was gauging hers.

"Did Roberts ever threaten you with a weapon of any kind?" Jane asked, knowing full well no weapons were found in the kidnapper's home.

She paused, and Jane watched how her brain seemed to be processing his question.

"Uh…no," she said. "Not that I remember." She looked at Lisbon. "Some things are a blur…"

"Of course," said Lisbon. "Just tell us all you can."

"He had me tied up or handcuffed mostly. I couldn't leave."

There was more—a lot more, and the girl cried as she told the worst of it, while Lisbon grew more and more disgusted, and Mrs. Barto wept right along with her daughter. Cherish was about to come to the end of her tawdry tale, when a light knock came at the door, and Van Pelt appeared, apologetic for the interruption.

"Sorry, Boss. Director Bertram is on the phone; he says it's urgent."

Lisbon clicked off the recorder with a sigh of annoyance. She looked at Cherish and her mother. "I'm sorry. I have to take this. I'll be back as soon as I can."

When Lisbon left, Van Pelt peeked in again. "Mrs. Barto, while you're waiting, since Cherish is a minor, we have some paperwork you need to fill out and sign."

Mrs. Barto looked with concern at her daughter. "Will you be all right?"

"I'll keep her company," offered Jane, smiling kindly.

"Thank you," the mother said, and left with Van Pelt.

Jane studied Cherish a moment, who sniffed a little, but stared boldly back.

"That was an Oscar-worthy performance," said Jane softly, still smiling.

"I don't know what you mean," said the girl, with mock offense.

"Aw, don't kid a kidder, Miss Barto. I know a very talented conwoman when I see one."

Cherish glanced at the window, then at the recorder, as if reassuring herself they were truly alone. Abruptly, her entire demeanor changed, and she sat back in her chair, crossing her legs, not bothering to readjust her skirt when it inched up high on her tan, shapely thighs.

"Well, hello, Cherish," said Jane triumphantly. "Nice to meet the real you."

"My friends call me Cherry," she replied with a seductive smile. "Well, they used to anyway." Her smile widened at her own clever innuendo.

"So, you're going to let an innocent man go to jail for kidnapping and rape—why? To protect your reputation?"

She shrugged. "Yes. I have my whole life ahead of me, Mr. Jane; Jimmy's middle-aged. And he's not so innocent. He had kinky sex with an underage girl."

"He didn't know you were underage," Jane pointed out. "You lied to him."

She snorted. "It's not like he asked for my ID."

"You're not afraid I'll tell the others what amounts to a full confession?"

"No one will believe you. I have your boss eating out of my hand, and my mother feels so guilty for neglecting me, she'll believe whatever I tell her. And as you can see," she concluded, letting her face morph back to the tearful, little girl lost of before, "I can be very convincing." She dabbed her eyes with a tissue, then chuckled at her own genius.

Jane regarded her thoughtfully, one finger tapping his bottom lip. "An absent father, eh?" he ventured.

Cherish's self-satisfied eyes changed suddenly to angry slits. "I don't have daddy issues, Mr. Jane." She thought better of her anger, then her hands went to the arms of the chair as she leaned forward, widening the gap in her blouse so a hint of cleavage appeared. Her small, pink tongue slipped out to quickly flick over her bottom lip.

"You were listening very closely when I described what Jimmy did to me," she said. "Did that turn you on?"

"Not really my thing," Jane replied blandly. "Neither are teenage girls."

"I'll be legal in a few days. Maybe you'll change your mind."

He pointedly ignored the come-on. "You didn't fool me, Miss Barto. Don't count on a jury to be fooled by these adolescent theatrics."

"Oh, they will," she said confidently. "I'll make them believe me." She glanced at Jane's wedding ring, changing tactics yet again. "Hey…does your wife still think you're as hot as I do?"

Jane felt the involuntary pang that he always did when his family was mentioned unexpectedly. A brief shadow crossed his features before he could help it.

"She doesn't, does she?" pounced Cherish, misinterpreting his reaction. She reached out a hand to touch the one resting on the table. "You are one of the sexiest men I've ever seen," she continued, her eyes brimming with sympathy. "If you were mine, I'd make you feel appreciated. And you could do whatever you wanted with me, whatever she won't let you—"

Just then, the door opened, re-admitting Lisbon, who took in the lone occupants of the room with a frown. Automatically, Cherish's face fell, and she became visibly upset.
"I uh, think we've gotten all we need for now, Cherish," Lisbon said. "I know this must have been very difficult for you. Your mother is about finished with the paperwork. You remember your way to Agent Van Pelt's desk?"

"Yes. Thank you, Agent Lisbon. Good-bye, Mr. Jane."

Jane didn't reply, but watched the young temptress hurry with a straight posture out of the room and down the hall.

"What the hell did you say to her?" Lisbon asked, rounding on him like a mother hen.

"Me?" Jane said, shaking his head in disbelief. "That innocent little victim of yours just came on to me. She's got a thing for older men, apparently."

"What?" Lisbon looked startled, her eyes going to the door Cherish had just exited.

"Hard to believe, I know," he said dryly. "But true nonetheless. And she admitted to me that it was consensual with Roberts."

"If that's true, you manipulated her into saying it."

"Now that hurts, Lisbon. I have no reason to lie about this."

"Except to prove you're right."

"You really have such a poor opinion of me?" He looked genuinely hurt, and her face softened.

"No. Well, yes. Sometimes. It depends."

"Well, gee, thanks for that. But mark my words, Lisbon. That girl is a Sociopath with a capital S. Poor Roberts probably never knew what hit him."

Lisbon sat down heavily in the chair across from him. "I don't want to believe you because it's just too…depraved to think about a young girl happily doing the horrible things she described."

Jane looked at her thoughtfully, trying to weed past his own emotions about this case and surmise why it was that Lisbon was having such a difficult time taking him at his word this time. The past few years, she had doubted him less and less, so it was quite a blow to his ego that she had taken a step backward now.

No, Jane thought, it wasn't that she didn't trust his instincts, it was…yes! That's it!

He leaned forward in his chair to look at his friend and colleague more closely. It certainly was no secret that he loved her—he'd told her after all—but he was still trying to work out in his own mind what that meant, where she fit in his heart. He knew she was in love with him, but he wasn't certain if she had acknowledged her own feelings. It was complicated, for both of them. But one thing was sure to him now—this case was reminding her of her own past somehow, and, given the circumstances of it, it couldn't have been anything good.

Lisbon met his eyes, hating that familiar probing look of his suddenly directed at her. He had a way of laying someone's soul bare to the world, and it wasn't pleasant when that someone was her. As hard as she tried, her courage collapsed under the intensity of his gaze, and her eyes skittered away uncomfortably.

"This has brought up some old memories for you," he said quietly. "What happened to you, Lisbon?"

He saw the brief flash of surprise mixed with pain, and then it was gone, and her defenses came back up in full force. She stood abruptly to leave, purposefully ignoring his question.

"Those computers from Roberts's house and the Barto's should be here by now. I'll find out what the holdup is."

"If you want to talk about it, Teresa, I'm a good listener."

It was so unlike him to be so personal with her, that she was speechless for a moment, and she swallowed against the sudden tightness in her throat.

"There's nothing to talk about," she finally managed, pleased she sounded somewhat normal.

Of course they both knew she was lying, but mercifully, he let it go. At least for now.

Xxxxxxxxxx

That afternoon, while Van Pelt worked on the suspect's and victim's hard drives, Jane found himself focusing more on Lisbon than on Cherish Barto. He'd ruled out in his mind the possibility that Lisbon had been raped. She didn't exhibit the kind of residual anger or damage that might have come from such a trauma. No, not rape, but definitely something sexual, and definitely something that made her compassionate toward Cherish. He wondered if he dared pursue this. He had his own demons he didn't like to talk about, and Lisbon had always been respectful of that.

He knew about her difficult childhood, the early loss of her mother, her father's drunken rampages, her having to grow up fast when it was left to her to raise her little brothers. Those things he was sure had made her stronger, however, and she'd spoken briefly about them herself over the years. There was still pain there, but he could tell it was something she had come to terms with long ago. Jane had also purloined and read her file in the first year he had worked for the CBI, including her psychological evaluations. Nothing there to explain her empathy with Cherish, however. He would have to give this more thought, and hope that Lisbon might take him up on his offer to be a willing listener.

Lisbon walked through the bullpen with a fresh cup of coffee. She ignored Jane completely, which made him grin. Agent Lisbon was hiding something, all right, and from her body language, he knew it was both painful and embarrassing.

"Boss," Van Pelt called. "I have something on Roberts's hard drive."

She stopped and turned toward the junior agent's desk.

"What is it?"

"Everything Roberts said about his visits to that S&M site, the hook up e-mails—all true. I just can't trace who the IP address belonged tofor the person he was talking to."

"What's the e-mail address of the girl?" asked Jane curiously.

"Cherrypie1 ," said Van Pelt. "She also used that same moniker in the chatrooms."

"Hmm," said Jane. He watched Lisbon's back bristle up like a porcupine.

"I'll look on Cherish Barto's laptop and see if anything matches up."

"Let me know what you find."

"Yes, Boss."

It was time for Jane's afternoon nap, so he settled back on his couch, closing his eyes and trying to sort through the connection between Cherish and Lisbon. Soon, he drifted off to sleep, his dreams sexual, and somewhat disturbing.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Nothing was found on Cherish Barto's laptop to indicate she'd had contact with Jimmy Roberts. Jane wasn't surprised, but this seemed to confirm things in Lisbon's mind, and they were back to square one.

"Maybe she got online at school, or at a friend's house," Jane suggested. Lisbon hesitated, torn between her gut and following every possible lead.

She looked at Van Pelt. "Go to her school and check it out. Rigsby, Cho, go talk to her friends."

"Yes, Boss," chorused her obedient team. With an annoyed glance at Jane, Lisbon returned to her office, where she closed herself off for the rest of the day.

When the team found nothing to indicate Cherish's contact with Roberts, Jane realized it would be up to him now to get Cherish to admit her willing participation in the week-long sexcapade with Roberts. Lisbon's good-bye to him that night was cold and clipped, and he didn't push it. She would have to see the evidence for herself if she were going to believe him this time.

Jane was mentally and physically tired, not to mention out of clean clothes in the attic, so he drove back to his extended stay motel room, looking forward to a long, hot shower and shave, maybe a nature show to take his mind off the disturbing images his brain had conjured up that afternoon as he'd slept. He shuddered just thinking about it.

He pulled into the motel parking lot, parked the Citroen, and climbed out. A green Volkswagen Bug pulled in beside him and he looked up curiously. Then his stomach turned over when he saw who had been driving it.

The woman who got out was dressed in tight black pants tucked into knee-high black boots. By contrast, she wore the same flowery pink blouse from that morning, only this time a form-fitting leather jacket finished the outfit. Her hair was now carefully curled, her make-up immaculate, and as she walked toward him in the light of the motel's flashing sign, she looked more twenty-five than seventeen.

"Hello, Mr. Jane," she said, her voice low and throaty. "I was hoping you might change your mind…once you saw the real me."

TBC

A/N: Do I have your interest? Do you want to read more? Please log in and let me know!