Summary: "Jane was teetering so close to the breaking point that she wasn't sure she could bring him back if he fell" - Tag to 5x22 - Red John's Rules

Disclaimer: The Mentalist doesn't belong to me, I just enjoy playing in the sandbox I've been provided!

Rating: K+ I reckon

Spoilers: Everything that's aired, especially 5x22 – Red John's Rules

Author's notes: Well, that was some finale huh! I stayed up all night to watch it (I'm in Egypt at the moment) then woke up after a few hours sleep and a couple of post-finale dreams with an urge to write this little one shot down, as it wouldn't leave me alone until I did!

Feedback is welcome as always; enjoy :)

"I'm going to start killing again. Often. Until you catch me… or I catch you."

The words reverberated around her mind, the echo of them deafening in the silence of the room. Lisbon glanced up at the broken man before her, because really, Jane's look had all the trademarks of a man in torment. How ridiculous it was that only hours ago the one thing she wanted more than anything was to bring her feelings into the open, to justify her concern and her worry over him, to let him know that he was loved. Now, instead, there was an underlying feeling that a new, more dangerous game had started and she and everyone else Jane cared for were the pawns for a notorious serial killer to play with and discard at will.

The blank screen of the laptop taunted her; its darkness a reflection all of the things she didn't know and couldn't comprehend. The seven faces lined up underneath did the same; each man a viable suspect, a potential killer, someone they could no longer trust. Jane had narrowed it down to these 7, but honestly, she wasn't sure they were any safer than they had been before. A trap had been set and they had no idea when it was likely to go off.

The fragments of the shattered disk shimmered softly in the afternoon light as they lay discarded on the floor, their disposal as messy as that of the woman who had delivered the message upon it. Lisbon watched the light glance off the shards and, taking a deep breath, stood up quietly, her movements slow as she headed towards the man in front of her.

Jane didn't say anything as she approached, merely turned to gaze at her. He still hadn't shaved, the stubble he'd gained from his week alone serving to give him an almost homeless look he'd not sported in years. His looked tired, exhausted really, and she noted his general disheveled look; the slept-in suit, the unkempt hair, the bloodshot eyes. It didn't matter. For the moment he was safe and with her; everything else could wait, just for a while. She maintained the silence as she stood in front of him, and when he instinctively moved forward and hugged her with a grip almost too tight to bear, she returned it in full, her head resting on his shoulder. She felt his hot breath in the crook of her neck, and she remembered that the last time they had been this close he had shot her as part of another of Red John's games. She'd never really been in any danger then but now? Oh how circumstances could change in a year.

She wasn't sure how long they stood there together, arms wrapped around each other in a bid to offer one another some solace. It could have been seconds or minutes, but Lisbon was happy to stay there with him until he had taken all the comfort he needed. She felt him shift slightly and if she hadn't felt it she could have dreamt the soft kiss he placed in her hair. His shuddering breath in her ear was all too real though and she knew that Jane was teetering so close to the breaking point that she wasn't sure she could bring him back if he fell. She would try though; there was little she wouldn't do for this man.

Eventually he released her and pulled back just enough so that he could cup her face with his hands, his palms warm against the coolness of the room. His fingertips reached into her hair and his thumbs stroked her cheeks in absent patterns. She didn't dare move, afraid to shatter the moment as easily as he had shattered the disk that lay at their feet. He looked at her then, blue eyes meeting green, and Lisbon saw a flash of something in his eyes as he gazed at her, something that almost looked like determination, or love, or both.

His kiss was light against her lips, the touch a promise of something more, the confirmation and culmination of whispers and comments that had followed them around for months. As he moved to pull away she reached up, pulling him down to her once more. He opened his mouth to hers almost immediately, the kiss taking on a new meaning. This was what it felt like to be loved she realised, to have that one person feel the same as you, to feel your pain, your fear, your desire. She responded with everything that she felt for this beautiful broken man and relished the feeling as he sighed against her. She clung almost desperately to his jacket, her knuckles white as she clung to his suit, holding onto him as if he might vanish if she let him go.

She knew, deep down in the darkness of her mind that they may not ever have another opportunity for this, that this one moment here with him would be all they had before they had to be constantly on guard from the monster that lurked outside these walls. If this was their one chance, she was damn well going to take it and have no regrets afterwards.

Jane pulled back slowly, reluctantly, resting his forehead against hers. Their heavy breaths were the only thing breaking the silence of the room and Lisbon maintained her grip on his jacket, her fingers curled around the fabric as if it were her lifeline.

"He's already killed one of my happy memories Lisbon, I will not let him take another away. I promise you that." His voice was nothing more than a whisper, but he sounded so confident that there was not a moment that Lisbon didn't believe him. Red John had might have changed the rules, but Jane was never one to play fair when he didn't want to.

"He won't," she replied, her tone soft, comforting, determined. "We will find him and we will take him down. Together. I promise. " She reached up and placed her own hand on his cheek and he leaned into the touch, turning his head slightly to plant another soft kiss on her palm.

There were no barriers between them now, both of them had been stripped bare and she knew that there was no one who could come between them. There was nothing else to say, their actions speaking for themselves. She didn't know what was ahead of them, but they would be working through it together and that was what mattered in the end; however this sordid game played out.

They released each other slowly; Jane taking a small step back and turning to allow himself to gaze out once more onto the Sacramento skyline. Lisbon stood next to him, remaining silent, tracking the slow descent of the afternoon sun. She felt a slight pressure on her finger tips, and without looking, she entwined her hand with his, squeezing his hand in a silent touch of support.

Separate she knew they were strong but together, they were unstoppable.