1. UNRECONCILED

Lisbon stopped at the door, holding a folder, trying to plan what she would say and do. Then, she figured that with Patrick Jane, no planning stood for very long. With a sigh, she knocked on the door and opened it without expecting an answer. Jane was sitting on the floor and quickly turned his head around.

"Morning," he said with a cheerful smile, standing up. He focused on the folder in her hand. Lisbon noticed he had made that hidden, abandoned room into some sort of motel room. Three-piece suits were hung everywhere, blankets were messy on top of the improvised bed and suitcases lay around.

"You been actually living here?" she asked, unable to contain it.

Jane had no time to talk about that. He had waited long enough. "What's in the folder," he said, straightforward, "is it the same thing you've been hiding from me the last couple days?"

"Hiding from you?" she retorted, trying to sound natural. "Don't be silly."

"You're silly," he smiled widely, "if you think you can hide something from me. I couldn't find out what it was, of course, you've been improving your abilities in hiding things, due to my influence, probably, but don't forget that I can always tell when you're lying. No exception. So I knew something was up."

He became serious, taking a step towards her. He could feel his heart racing; he was ready to read her reaction to his next question. "Is it Red John?"

"Have you noticed" she started, avoiding his gaze and walking around so as to hide her hard-to-fake traits which would certainly give her away, "that I'm the one who walked in here with an intention of talking to you, and you're the one asking questions?" She turned to face him again. "And yet I am the control freak."

Her reaction screamed "yes", and he had no time for her running around.

"Come on, Lisbon," he approached her again, speaking in his low, aggravated tone, which he used for talking about Red John and what the serial killer had done to his life, "you've been sitting on this for too long, I need to know, now."

She took a deep breath, in order to concentrate. His demand was certainly appealing, and he knew exactly how to get what he wanted, especially from her, but there was something she wanted to talk to him about first.

"Since you've mentioned Red John," she started, trying to keep her tone casual, "have you decided yet what it is you're going to do after Red John?"

He was intrigued. "What do you mean, after?"

"I mean after it's over," she swallowed before continuing. "Eventually, we are going to find him–"

"And I'll kill him," he interrupted sharply, still impatient.

"Doesn't matter, we are going to find him and this is going to end," she went on, waving her hands so as to make him bear with her. "What are you going to do after that happens? Have you figured out any plans yet?"

He smiled a sad smile. "Maybe I don't have to."

She cocked her head to the side, trying to understand the implication. His sad smile got wider. Not that he found any of it funny; it was simply so clear to him, he sort of expected her to understand that.

"You know I will do whatever it takes to kill him. With no regards for my own life, I mean."

She wanted to hit him, hard, and she had to stiffen in order not to do that. "Shut up," escaped her involuntarily; she had expected him to say that, but not her reaction, "we won't consider that as a possibility, you hear me?" She approached him with her hand in front of her, trying to impose her will.

Jane simply smiled, with amusement. How could she be so surprised? He also felt sad about her reaction. He wished she didn't care whether he was dead or alive, because he certainly didn't. As long as Red John died first. He thought he'd make that clear to her, right now, if she didn't already know.

"There's no we when it comes to Red John," he started, laying a hand on her shoulder. "I appreciate that you want to help me, and I appreciate your position as a law enforcement officer who's in charge of the case, but you must know that, when we find him, I will find a way to outsmart you and get to him first." His smile disappeared, and his voice took on a dark tone that really scared her as he said his next words, almost as low as a whisper. "In the end, it will be just me and him."

They stared at each other in silence for a while. Then, Jane smiled again, tightening his grip warmly on Lisbon's shoulder as he said "I wouldn't want to risk your life, or anyone else's. Only mine." He was being completely sincere, for a change.

Lisbon took a step back, letting his hand fall from her shoulder and looking at him as though he was a stranger. Defiantly, though, she said, "we'll see who will outsmart who."

"We'll see," he said, with a smile.

"All of that, however," she said, taking a deep breath, "is beside the point, because you never answered the question I came here to ask you in the first place."

"My plans for after Red John," he repeated, with that same smile still glued to his face. His eyes shifted to the folder again.

"Yes." She waited for him to say something.

Jane looked down, putting his hands in his pockets, pursing his lips thoughtfully, and shook his head. "I haven't thought about that yet," was his honest answer. Killing Red John was his sole objective in life. He had never really thought about what he would do after that.

Lisbon's expression was blank, and that's how she still felt after what Jane had just told her – certainly not something she had planned on hearing. She reminded herself how she knew that no planning ever worked out the way it was supposed to when it had Jane involved.

"That's my honest answer," he insisted, serious. "Now will you show me the folder?"

Lisbon sighed, with the sour taste of a lost battle in the back of her throat. "Only if you promise to start thinking about those plans."

His brow furrowed, and that aggravated expression and voice tone came back. "What do you mean?" His heart was racing again.

"I mean you're going to need those plans soon. Very soon."