Oh, yes, the damn disclaimer: seriosuly, do we really have to do it? Because, Jeez, if I'd own them, I'd not be here writing it, I'd be the writeer of a TV Shows and, well, we'd have the LIsbon romance for real...meanwhile, I just "write, draw, create, dream, hope and believe in Bruno, waiting for him to be blessed bu the light of reason..." (No, this discalimer isn't mine, it belongs to one fo the girls who wite Mentalist fiction on the italian site efpfiction, but don't tell me many of you don't share this vision...).

Short one-shot based on 3.9- it's less than 1000 words, probably one of the shortest things I have ever wrote. [sorry if I'm bothering you all againg with an episode tag for season 3, it seems that Season 3 got the best out of me. do you know that this is the fifth story I'm wiritng based on scenes from a season 3 episode? No? Now you do. Who know, maybe I'll end up catching up on the missing episodes and I'll end up doing all season 3 based fics. Knowing me, it could be possible. anyway...here we go with the story...]

He didn't know if his life was going to get any better or worst. And, mostly, he didn't know if what he was doing was right or wrong.

Correction- he did know it was wrong and selfless, but… he really didn't know a single thing, not any longer. In the past few weeks, he had thought things were getting better, but now, here there was, Red John's shadow, again removing all the light from his world, all the good things.

He knew how he was when Red John was involved, as blind and egoistical and driven by revenge as he was; he wasn't stupid. And he knew that every time Red John appeared, he fell into the darkness again, removing all the light from his world, removing Lisbon from his world – Saint Teresa, matron of the lost cause, his knight in shining armor, his defender, the one who always trusted him and his schemes, the one who was ready to lose everything for him.

And, still, he was hurting her, telling lies on lies. And he knew it. He was aware of it. A part of him, knew that driving her away was the right thing to do, because of many things, Red John first, but another part…

He massaged his closed eyes as he stood against her doorframe, waiting for her to open, smiling a little, and laughing like a maniac, losing control, and feeling like drunk. God, he really felt like an idiot, and stupid, because what he was going to do was stupid, and egoistical, and dangerous. But there was only that much he could lose. And he wasn't willingly to take that risk.

"So, let's hear, what so funny that you felt the need to wake me up in the middle of the night?" He was still laughing when, half-asleep and annoyed, she opened the door, and Jane, for a second, lost his balance and his composure, almost like the day before, when he had stared at her once she had opened the windows at the motel, with (only) that indecent Chicago bears t-shirt that was leaving exposed the top of her left breast (She is wearing no bra, just calm down and don't you even dare to think about what she isn't wearing under that jersey, Patrick, just, don't go there… he kept chastising himself the night before, and now as well, unable to remove his eyes from that vision- just like it was now happening, since she was wearing the same t-shirt.

"Just going through memory lane, I guess" he said, pointing out at her shirt, not the one she had when Carmen went to her and he had been hidden in her bedroom, but, still, it had the same effect on him – the overwhelming desire to just put his hands on her hips, left the hem of the shirt and remove it from her head, leaving her in front of him completely exposed, naked, to his mercy and hi will- oh, and how many wicked things he wanted to do to and with her…. He was pretty sure Lisbon indulged in fantasies about him, and being in control of him for once and handcuffs- he didn't like bondage that much, but for Lisbon, he could do that, and even more, but not that night.

"I'm going to make you a cup of tea" she retorted, without adding anything, as she went back inside, followed by Jane. He staid again in the entrance, this time of the kitchen, drinking in the sight of Lisbon preparing him tea, watching her by the sink, focused on her back.

And it was then that the overwhelming desire struck again. But this time, it was a kind of different desire. He wasn't thinking of sweating bodies and uncontrolled breathing and beats, he was talking about feelings.

He did the only thing he could do. He joined herm and embraced her by the back, encircling her hips, nuzzling her hair – he felt her heart losing a beat, making him grin for an instant before he turned back to serious.

"I need and want you to be in control of the situation" he stopped, as he felt her breath dying in her throat, and then he continued "when the day comes, when we find Red John, I need and want you to be there to stop me from doing anything foolish. I don't want reality to be different. I want to exact my revenge on him, but I'm willingly to do it on your terms. I want you to teach me that, when the time will come, I'll see that violence is not the answer." He quoted her exact words, their exact words, from few days before, when he knew he had hurt her, but he could no longer do it. It was too painful- for the both of them. He had tried to make Lisbon move on, with Mash, but, in the end, it had been just sex for her and he had been the one mad and angry for days with everyone. Leaving her was no longer an option, besides, if he kept her close, he could always be there to protect her, 24/7…

He tightened his grip on her as she started to cry in his arms, and he didn't let it go if her even when Lisbon turned in his embrace to look into his eyes, founding them teary as well. Even when he finally told her everything, he didn't let it go of her, too scared that she'd end up running away from him. But she didn't.

Jane had asked her to teach all those things to him, and with a kiss, quickly and sweet, she started to teach him- everything.