(This precedes my last story. It was asked that I do a multi-part story, but I'm not sure how much inspiration I'll have. A few more ideas are bouncing around reviews do encourage!)

Just overlaps the last two scenes of The Crimson Hat.

Take My Hand

Pulling up the dirt path, Lisbon barely managed to keep herself from leaping from the still-moving SUV. The sight of her consultant slouched sideways on a mound sent a flash of fear through her. Red John's limo driver had been described carrying a gun before the sting went wrong in every way possible. As the wheels ground to a stop, she saw him move, rolling partially onto his back to lift his head in their direction.

Taking long strides, she made it to his side in a moment, silently priding her composure as she took in the breathing and smiling form of Patrick Jane, lying in the California dirt. She sat down next to him but held her distance, unsure of his mental or physical state.

"You okay?"

A stupid question… they were both pretty far from being 'okay,' but it was all she could think of to ask.

His answer was equally reflexive.

"I'm fine. Never better…"

He reached for her with one hand, the other clamped tightly to his side. She suspected that Red John's thug had worked him over before her team managed to convince the FBI that they were on an undercover stakeout. He probably had bruised ribs, perhaps even broken. Yet he reached for her cautiously, as if afraid she'd pull back. His hand was cold.

Lisbon gave him a closer examination and realized that he must be suffering from a mild case of shock. Understandable, considering everything he'd just put himself through. His face was pale and eyes had a slightly glassy sheen as he looked up at her. He wouldn't meet her gaze, only fixing his gaze on her throat where her cross was peeking from behind the collar of her shirt.

The sirens in the distance finally cut off. Police procedure meant that the chase was over and suspects apprehended. As much as she hoped they had caught their nemesis, Jane's non-reaction told her that most likely the FBI and CBI had been outsmarted once again.

She tightened her grip on his hand. His sudden hiss of pain surprised her and she turned to look at him.

"She was going to cut off my fingers."

Jane let her turn his hand over. Behind his ring, at the base of his finger, the skin had been broken in a clean line. Blood was welling up, smearing the gold of his wedding band and running into the grooves of his hand. Lisbon found traces of red on her own hand.

Jane's voice was plaintive like a boy's. "She was going to take my ring finger. She had the clippers and said she was sorry… Any finger, Red John said… and she chose that one."

He clenched his hand into a fist and drew it back to his chest. Lisbon watched him, infinitely thankful that Agent Darcy had finally believed them. Had they been a few moments later, Jane would have lost his finger, and likely his occasionally shaky sanity would be even more questionable. Not entirely sure what to do, Lisbon fell back onto her experience dealing with her brothers when trying to get them to snap out of their bouts of depression.

She stood and brusquely brushed the dust from her pants.

"Come on, Jane. Let's go see what the others caught in this net of yours."

Jane blinked up at her in the setting sun, his face full of childish confusion. Lisbon reached down and caught him by the arm, using her entire strength to force him to his feet. Her manhandling seemed to bring him back to himself and he smiled, this time with traces of genuine affection.

"I see some things never change."

Giving him a light glare, she kept her hand on his elbow, pulling him along as they started down the dirt road. "I've been doing this long before you ever showed up."

"Jerking beaten and bruised men around against their will?"

"Jerking jerks around by their arms."

"That's almost poetic."

The flashing lights of the various FBI and local police cars had Jane slowing his steps. Lisbon gave him a moment, watching him closely for any sign of his shock growing worse. To her surprise, he seemed to do the opposite drawing himself together, dropping his hand that had remained curled against his chest and brushing off his suit jacket. He took in an audible breath and let it out slowly. Looking her square in the eye, Jane gave her one of his signature know-it-all smirks.

"Let's go, Lisbon."

She merely nodded and let him lead the way.

Two hours later, she wanted to cut off one of his fingers herself.

Red John's accomplice, the woman named Lorelai, dropped a verbal bomb in the interrogation room that Lisbon did her best to ignore beyond the facts. Her personal feelings had no say in the matter. She was careful to keep her face blank after Lorelai began mockingly referencing the apparent one-night-stand they had shared. Jane was an unmoving shadow behind her until he pushed off the wall and moved toward them. Lisbon watched with a mixture of morbid fascination, fear, and growing anger when Jane calmly rested his hands on Lorelai's shoulders and kissed her firmly on the crown of her head.

"You'll sing like a bird."

With a flash of cold blue-green eyes in Lisbon's direction, Jane swept out of the room.

Lisbon carried on with the questioning, but found herself growing more and more distracted, worrying that her consultant had just taken off on another personal mission. Twenty minutes later, she decided that she had taken all that she could of Lorelai's smug dodging and stomped out of the room herself.

Jane wasn't in the bullpen but Cho was flipping through papers at his desk.

"Cho assign suicide watch for Red John's agent. I want to hold off on either her assassination, or her trying to kill herself to keep her secrets for as long as possible. Make sure it's someone you trust."

The agent nodded without question.

"Did Jane come through here?"

At that, the Korean-American's eyes took on an edge. "He came by for a minute. Said he was going to check on his attic. Haven't seen him since."

Lisbon took two steps toward the door and then stopped. He really didn't deserve her concern at this point… He'd taken too much of her time and energy more than any consultant warranted.

Turning on her heel, she marched into her office and shut the door.

He'd be dealt with later.

(Followed by: For Now)

Author's Note: This will be marked as incomplete. Following chapters will be one-shots that are mildly strung in chronological order as I am inspired so I don't publish multiple one-shots.