Summary: "It does not matter that the rules have changed, they are together and that is all that is important."

Disclaimer: The Mentalist doesn't belong to me - I'm just playing until they return in September.

Rating: T although could rise later in the story

Spoilers: Everything up to 5x22 – Red John's Rules. This is a multi-chapter follow up to my 5x22 tag – Unstoppable, although you don't have to read that for this to make sense.

Author's notes: So, apparently my brain wanted me to write a 'Season 6' based fic, as well as carry on my Season 5 AU. My brain severely overestimates what I'm capable of sometimes I think! Still, here's the prologue to my new multi-chapter. Like most of my stories, I have a vague idea of where this is going, but I'm pretty much along for the ride! As with Blood on the Scales, I can't guarantee when I'll be able to update, but I'm aiming for at least once a week. My school year finishes in 6 weeks, so I'll have a lot more time to dedicate to my stories when I have a free summer :)

As always, please don't hesitate to let me know what you think; I'm still learning as I go with this, and I'm always eager to learn what does/ doesn't work for people!

Enjoy…


Red John's MO changes with his next kill. Yes, the smiley face is still there, sinister and demonic as it has always been, but the message carved into the young woman's torso is new. Lisbon shivers slightly as she stands in the doorway of the small, dank motel room to take in the scene, but she doesn't know whether it's down to the cool winter's air following them inside or the warm touch of Jane's hand on the small of her back.

He's been silent since they left CBI, since she approached him in the bullpen earlier to let him know that what they have been dreading has finally started; Red John has taken another life. She hadn't pushed him to talk, his slumped body language practically shouting at her to leave him be as they made their way to the new crime scene in the SUV. The miserable weather outside seems to perpetuate the chilly atmosphere in the room, but she can't help but find the soft pattering of the rain on the concrete outside therapeutic amongst all the chaos that is about to ensue.

Jane has been ever present in her life since Red John changed the rules two months ago; he'd told her in hushed whispers that night, as they'd held hands while watching the sun set, that he would go to the ends of the earth to stop Red John, before apologising for putting her and everyone else's life in danger. They'd been practically inseparable since then: late nights, early mornings, shared dinners, restless nights on couches. They haven't shared more than the brief kisses in the attic all those weeks ago, but she finds that just Jane's presence is enough to satisfy what needs she has for the moment. It does not matter that the rules have changed, they are together and that is all that is important. The rumours surrounding them, however, have picked up with newfound momentum, but she no longer cares what others think; all that matters to her now is stopping Red John and protecting Jane and the others from the evil that seems to lurk around every corner.

The hardest part has been shutting out the team. Lisbon knows how they feel; this is precisely what they all went through when Jane disappeared to Vegas over a year ago. But, the two of them have decided to keep the list and the contents of the disk to themselves. She loves the guys, she really does, trusts them with her life even, but the more people they tell the more chance of something going wrong. Hence all the secrecy, despite the pain it causes her.

It has been particularly hard for her, she muses. Jane has done this before, has distanced himself from their 'family' more than once but he and the team are all the people she really has in this world and separating herself in regards to something this important is tearing her up inside. How can she protect them if she can't warn them of the danger that lurks outside? They still work together on cases, but there is a tension there that wasn't present before, a strange atmosphere filling the bullpen whenever the others realise that the two of them have been together again. She finds it hard to see the resigned faces of her team, but Jane tells her it is for the best. Lisbon finds it hard to agree with him, but she trusts him, so she does not complain.

Lisbon is drawn from her thoughts as she fully enters the room and she instinctively stutters to a halt as she spots Brett Partridge stood by the bed, back to the two of them, body bent over their latest victim. Lisbon isn't sure how to react and she can feel her muscles tensing. She's spent time with Bertram in the previous months but they've suspected him before of being connected to Red John so she does not struggle to put across a calm and composed façade when talking to him. She hasn't seen Kirkland and Haffner for weeks and the other suspects are supposedly out of town. But Partridge is different; an unknown quantity, someone who hadn't even really been on her radar until Lorelei's voice had read his name through the laptop in the silence of the attic.

Jane must sense her hesitance because she feels him then, his breath soft in her ear and it must look to anyone outside of the two of them that he is kissing her neck, the position intimate. Instead, she hears nothing but his whispered words, calm and soothing, working quickly to dispel the panic that suddenly flows through her.

"Ignore him, he mustn't suspect anything. Just focus on me Lisbon; I'll do the hard part."

She trusts him, because she has no alternative in this, and she watches as Partridge glances up at them suddenly, and she almost scowls as he runs his eyes over their close proximity. He seems to lose interest quickly though, and he gestures towards the victim on the bed before them. At the moment she is a Jane Doe, but Lisbon is sure that she has been carefully selected by Red John; she is the first kill of a new 'era' after all.

"I'm not sure whether this is Red John or not," Partridge comments, and Lisbon studies his face for any sense of deception, or even a flash of pride in the scene before them. She sees nothing, so drags her eyes to Jane. To anyone else watching, Jane's demeanour is one of his usual cool, calm arrogance. But she has spent so much time with him recently that he is becoming more and more transparent to her by the day. The slight clenching of his fist betrays his anger, the hand through his hair reveals his frustration and the seemingly nonchalant wave of his arm over the body shows his fear; she thinks she is the only one who can see the slight trembling of his hand.

"It could be," Jane mutters, wandering to the other side of the bed so that the piece of furniture separates them. Lisbon is stood at the end, and she briefly thinks that the three of them could be in a strange Mexican stand-off. She shakes the thought aside and continues her silent study, hoping that Cho or Rigsby will turn up soon with some news on surveillance from the building's manager. Panic starts to fill her body and she can't shake the feeling that Red John might be right there, right in front of her in the form of Brett Partridge and she can't do anything about it. She takes a deep breath and looks at Jane for support. He seems to recognise her need and he turns up the corner of his mouth in a half smile, the small movement of his lips all the comfort that she needs.

"Mmm I guess," Partridge continues, his voice quiet and determined. Lisbon wonders if it is the voice of a killer. "All the signs are here, the face seems authentic and the patterns of the wounds are consistent with a Red John victim. This, however," he says, indicating the naked torso covered in blood and the new aspect of Red John's crime evident for all to see, "is different."

Lisbon had been informed over the phone of the change in MO, but seeing it there in front of her sends another shiver down her spine. The number is intricate, fluid, and horrific. She can practically see Red John's face laughing (but which one, who is he?) as he carved it into this poor woman's body, knife glistening with blood as he started his game. She looks up at Jane and sees the same determined look in his eye that he gets every time Red John appears to cause havoc with his life.

7

7 suspects, 7 names, and now, apparently, 7 potential victims. The significance of the number isn't lost on her, and, she imagines, on Jane. Red John is purposefully taunting the man in front of her, and she again glances at Partridge to see any flicker of recognition. Lisbon figures it is no use though; Red John has been under their noses for years and never revealed himself and he is unlikely to do so now, especially as he seems to be just warming up.

Jane's eyes flick to hers and back again, as if he is now the one looking for reassurance in the cold of the dingy motel room. She sees the muscles tense in his shoulders, the movement small and unnoticeable to many, but to her it's a giant warning sign that the man before her is almost starting to panic. She moves quietly towards him, ignoring Partridge's comments as he walks himself through the scene. She moves to stand closer to the head of the bed, feigning an interest in something on the pillow, but her motive is to stand in front of Jane, to reassure him that she is there, safe and unharmed. Sure enough, as she stands, gazing at nothing but the frilly design of the cushion, she feels his hand, warm and comforting on the small of her back under her jacket. She doesn't move as Jane grips her shirt slightly, nor does she flinch as he rubs his thumb across her spine. The gesture is hidden from everyone else in the room, but it is enough for the two of them, enough for them both to know that the two of them are ok, at least for the time being. Lisbon carries on as if nothing is unusual, and she can feel Jane physically relax behind her. She's relieved, because she has a feeling that if she lets him become lost inside himself she won't be able to find him again.

Her attention is drawn to the body in front of them once more, and Lisbon knows that Jane's gaze is focused on the same thing.

The number is a sign, a warning for her and for Jane. There is a time limit now (Until you catch me… or I catch you), the cards have been dealt and she and Jane must deal with the consequences.

It is a countdown, and Lisbon does not want to imagine what will happen when they get to zero.