Catching Smoke

A/N: Well, just thought I'd throw my hat into the ring with another fandom. This is just a little scene between Lisbon and Jane seconds after the finale ends.

Disclaimer: I don't own The Mentalist, and make no profit from this story.

"Jane..." Lisbon whispered, staring at the seven pictures aligned in front of her, then glancing at the pitch black screen of the laptop. How does he know? she thought, the horror seeping into every inch of her, causing her stomach to flip unpleasantly. How does he know everything?

She closed her eyes for a long moment. "I'm going to start killing again, often. Until you catch me... or I catch you," she heard the words echo through her mind with a barely repressed shudder. For Jane's week of purposeful confinement, she had thought there was hope. That surely his genius, albeit unconventional methods, would use the key given to him by Lorelei to unlock the mystery of Red John.

Instead, it seemed that he had unlocked Pandora's Box. She opened her eyes again, and this time her gaze fell upon Jane, who had remained uncomfortably silent since handing her the pictures of the seven Red John suspects. He was staring at the shattered remains of the disc, the sunlight streaming in through the dusty window and illuminating the remnants with fragments of multicolored light.

He looked worse than she'd seen him in a long time. His blond curls were a mess, a five o'clock shadow slowly but surely asserting itself on his face. His normally neat three piece suit was a rumpled disaster, and his eyes were bloodshot and distant. She hated when he was like this, when he seemed so far away. Not only because it hurt a part of her that she didn't really want to acknowledge existed, but because she knew she was useless to help him.

She rose to her feet, coming to stand beside Jane. She didn't know what to say. The stakes had been risen higher than she had ever imagined. "Or I catch you..." Dear God, she did not like the sound of that.

"He's inside of my mind, Lisbon," Jane whispered finally, almost too quietly for her to catch. "A place that I once foolishly considered to be safe..." he trailed off, his hands clenching into white-knuckled fists at his sides. He turned his head slightly so that his pale blue eyes met her own. She never could gather much from his eyes. She knew Jane too well to fall for anything she thought she saw there. The man had control over everything about himself; people saw what he wanted them to see.

But at this moment, Jane seemed to be distinctly not in control. And that... that scared the living hell out of her. "I don't have any answers for you. I don't understand how he could know what he does... but it doesn't change the fact that we're close," Lisbon said, gesturing towards the pictures. "Seven men. From over a thousand suspects to seven. It doesn't matter how clever Red John is. We're closing in on him."

Jane let out a bitter, humorless chuckle in response. "Funny, isn't it, how it's always when we're closing in that the killing starts." He ran a hand distractedly through his mussed hair. "He's been toying with me for years. He's... humored me." The word was spoken like a curse. "The games are over."

"This has never been a game for you, Jane. Or the other victims and their families," she replied.

"But for him, that's all it was. It was a game. A game he was passionate for, make no mistake... but still a game. Until now." He turned so he was facing Lisbon directly. "He'll be showing us what he's truly capable of, now. No place is safe."

"You're scaring me," she told him honestly. There was no point in trying to hide it from him. She couldn't hide anything from him, even if she wanted to. Unimaginable secrets... laughable. He read her like a book.

"I am scared," he told her in a low voice that trembled slightly. "I'm scared for myself, for you, for all of us." He blinked, eyes boring into hers. "Terrified, really."

"We'll get through this," she replied, taking a step closer to him. "We will. We're close, closer than we've ever been. We'll fight fire with fire if we have to." She couldn't help but notice her use of the word 'we'. Somewhere along the lines, this had gone from Jane's vendetta to hers as well. "You're a little bit in love with him, eh?" Maybe. Just maybe.

"That's sweet of you to say," Jane said, before letting a small sigh escape him. "Lisbon, I'm about to ask a request of you that you may be reluctant to grant."

"What is it?" she asked carefully, eyes not leaving his for a second. A moment of silence passed between them before he responded.

"I'm asking you to make me a promise," he said. "Make a promise that you will stand with me."

"Jane," she replied. "You know that I will-"

"You haven't heard the second part of my request," he cut her off. "I want you to make a promise to stand with me, but if it comes to the point where you are forced to choose between doing so and staying alive, I want you to choose your own life."

She stared at him disbelievingly. How could he ask her to do that? After everything the two of them had been through together? How could he ask her to abandon him when push came to shove?

"Not a chance," she said without hesitation. Jane opened his mouth to speak, but she halted him with a hand. "You're asking me to cut and run when your head's on the chopping block. I won't do that."

"No, no..." he shook his head. "Your heroics are admirable, really, but this isn't about honor and integrity anymore. It's about survival," he sucked in a shaky breath. "I'm tired of the people I care about dying because of me... because of him..."

"Stop," she said, and without even realizing it, her body seemingly moved on its own, propelling her forward and causing her arms to wrap around his waist. "Stop it, Jane. I'm not leaving you. That's something I'll promise you."

"I don't want that from you," he whispered, his chin resting on the top of her head. She could hear his breath, hear his heartbeat next to her ear.

"Too bad," she retorted, her voice muffled by his shirt. "We're in this together Jane - I'm not letting you go in alone." There. That was the end of it. She wasn't leaving him any room for argument.

"Then you've sealed both of our fates," he responded in a monotone.

"We catch him, or he catches us," she said. "I'm with you either way."

He didn't say anything more, but his arms did rise to encircle her shoulders, tightening their embrace. She didn't know how long that they stood their together like that. It was peace, as much peace as the two of them could afford with the knowledge of what was to come. Looking back, it was the last calm before the storm.

A/N: How'd I do with my first Mentalist fic? Reviews are loved!