Red Raging Rapids (Sequel)

I'm really happy right now for no reason. BUT LET ME ENJOY IT WHILE IT LASTS, YAAAY!! :D

Disclaimer: I DISCLAIMER YOUR PANTS, NYAAA!!!

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Jane's P.O.V.

It's been about a month, now. Lisbon's isn't alright. She hasn't come out of the initial stages of grief, yet. I should know, I've done enough grieving to last a lifetime. I want to help her so badly, but I keep feeling like she wants me gone. I don't know why, but I keep feeling like something I do could hurt her, and she's bare and raw right now. I definitely don't  want to harm her right now. It would be like smacking a bruise.

"Hey, Jane, you ready?" Rigsby questions.

"Yes, Rigsby, I'm ready. The question is concerning Lisbon." I reply. About a week earlier, Van Pelt explained what had happened to Rigsby and Cho. I don't know how she found out, but at least I can say it had nothing to do with me. Lisbon comes out of her office, and nods, leading everyone towards the elevators. She appears fine, but her eyes portray the despair caught up inside her. We're silent on the way down, mostly for her sake. We split into separate cars, and we're off to find the killer.

"Okay, so this search party of Mr. Cortez's house, could either prove that he's guilty of both Garcia and Evalyn's murders, or we learn nothing, correct?" Van Pelt asks,before we drive off.

"Yes. If they are, then we'd be lucky. If they aren't, and there's no letter to be found, then nothing changes. If we don't find a letter in Mr. Cortez's house, then we learn nothing. We know that they both had an alibi, and if there's no letter, then we have nothing on him. If there is, then it basically means that he can be sent to jail with a double murder on his head." Lisbon explains. She gets into the drivers seat, and I take the passengers, and we drive off, leaving the rest to follow.

It's the little things that show me that she's out of it. The way she explained to Van Pelt, the repetitive way of talking. The way she's staring at the road, and not seeing. I'm suddenly scared that she's driving. Luckily, I survive the long trip to Mr. Cortez's house.

There's already a search party in progress when we arrive. The rest of the team arrives in other cars, and we spread out, talking to other officers, looking in the actual house. I approach a cop, and speak up.

"Uh, ma'am?" I politely greet.

"Yes?" she questions, turning around.

"California Bureau of Investigation." I say, letting my wonderful little plastic card show. "When you alerted Mr. Cortez that his house was going to be searched, was he worried at all?"

"Yeah, a little. He was also really angry." She replies.

"That's all." I state, and go to walk away. If a random cop off the street could see it, then he definitely isn't guilty, proving one of my theories right.

"Really. Okay. If you need anything, I'm over there." She informs me.

"I'll come to you." I answer with a smile, heading in the other direction. I duck between more uniformed cops, and go to watch this unsuccessful search.

Roughly an hour later, I spot a familiar brunette. I walk towards her, and stand a few feet away. The rest of the team are spread out, most nearby. I get close enough to see her face, and I don't like what I see. Lisbon is practically asleep on her feet, her eyes bloodshot, and her arms wrapped around her. The bags under her eyes suggest that she hasn't slept in awhile. She's trembling a little in the cold, and her mouth consists of two mauled lips, chapped, red and cut in several places. Her eyes squint, and slowly blink.

"Someone need a wake up call?" I gently tease.

"Please. I need to be awake for this." She asks, taking me seriously. I hesitate, not sure what to do next. Then, my mind comes upon a mischievous decision. Before she realizes what I'm doing, I grab the sides of her face, and pull her mouth against mine. I kiss her hard, moving my head sideways. I let my tongue wet her chapped lips. Then, I release her darting out of punching reach. She gasps for air for a few seconds, and some of her old fire comes back into her eyes. Her brows wrinkle up in anger, and she yells, "WHAT WAS THAT, JANE?!?!"

"You asked for a wake up call." I defend, jumping back a few steps.

"I didn't mean- god, Jane, I hate you!" She snapped.

"No, you don't." I correct. She glares at me, and rolls her eyes, marching off in the other direction.

I hadn't managed to fix everything, but I think a little part of her just came back.