Author's Note: I would like to express my continued appreciation for the support I have received from this fandom. You have all made me feel very welcome, and I am sincerely thankful for all of you.

Oh, and happy Mentalist Sunday!

When Lisbon finally regained consciousness, she was initially aware of only three things: she couldn't see, she couldn't move, and she had a headache bigger than the state of Texas. All in all, the official triad of a really bad morning.

Or was it afternoon? Automatically, she shook her head to try to clear the lingering cobwebs, then bit back a yelp at the flash of pain that spread across the top of her skull.

Focus. She had to focus. For a moment, she wished that she had taken advantage of the opportunity to have Jane teach her some of his biofeedback tricks. He had offered once, what seemed like eons ago, when she was having a particularly difficult time calming down after an intense interrogation .

At the time, she'd thanked him for his offer, but instead chose to alleviate her tension by firing round after round into a hapless paper target at the wrong end of her Glock 22.

Now, with no paper target in sight (actually, with nothing in sight), Lisbon was forced to rely on her own methods of pain suppression to gain her bearings.

From what she could tell, she was blindfolded. It wasn't tied tightly enough to aggravate her head injury or to completely block out what she thought was sunlight streaming in. However, it was snug enough to not move at all when she tried to shift it upward with her shoulder.

Her hands were bound behind her back again, not tightly, but secure enough so that she knew she wasn't going to be able to finagle a way out of them. She also sensed a shackle around her right ankle, and when she lifted her leg slightly, she heard the sound of a chain clinking against the floor.

The floor itself was smooth and hard, contrasting the rough concrete that her back was up against. Both were cool to the touch, and she couldn't help the involuntary shiver as the temperature in the room finally sank into her skin. It was just cold enough to be unpleasant, but she wasn't going to freeze to death.

It was almost as if her captors wanted to keep her just slightly on the side of uncomfortable. This made her more uneasy than anything. She'd been through this before, and the inexperienced kidnappers always gave themselves away. Their bindings were too tight, the room was always too claustrophobic, and the constant need to check on their captives usually pointed to first timers.

She estimated that she had been awake for at least fifteen minutes, and the fact that her abductors had yet to make their presence known told her that they were either waiting for the right time to introduce themselves or so convinced that she would be unable to escape that they had left her behind in order to procure what they felt was an equivalent amount of value for her release.

Either way, she wasn't going anywhere.

Her eyes closed and her mind drifted back to the warehouse. If she could remember something about who brought her here, it might give her a better shot at getting out alive.

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The convoy of SUVs had quietly pulled up ½ a mile before the entrance to the docks. The remaining distance to the warehouses would have to be covered on foot, so their presence would remain undetected for as long as possible.

Abbott had requested the presence of Austin SWAT. The docks were home to three substantial warehouses, and he wanted to make sure that nothing got past them.

When they arrived at the docks, they had split into search teams of four. Abbott and Lisbon were partnered with three SWAT officers, while Cho and Fischer had two. The plan was for each group to search a warehouse and alert the officers standing by if they needed assistance.

Lisbon and her team had taken the warehouse closest to the water. Once they'd entered the darkened storeroom, they'd split up to cover more ground. Lisbon and her SWAT partner had headed towards the back of the storeroom, their boots making no sound on the wooden floor.

They had been just about ready to clear the northwest corner of the warehouse when Lisbon noticed something unusual. She motioned to her partner to follow her over to a stack of crates that seemed haphazardly arranged against the wall. Something about the way they were balanced didn't seem right to her.

During one of her many uneventful afternoons in Washington, when the drunks hadn't quite yet left the local watering hole and the few errant teenagers were out buying spray paint to once again deface the school, she had come across an intriguing article in one of the numerous police newsletters she subscribed to.

In it, the author detailed the various ways that criminals were hiding their enterprises in plain sight. From secret doorways to concealing their products in the guise of anything from children's toys to a deck of cards, wrong-doers were getting smarter in concealing their illicit activities.

There were stacks of crates all around the warehouse, but the one in front of her now seemed…off. She couldn't explain why, but when she looked at it, an uneasy feeling developed in the pit of her stomach. Her many years in law enforcement told her never to ignore a gut instinct, so she moved closer to the stack and gingerly began inspecting the outer edges.

It was as she got around to the back edges that she figured out what had bothered her about this particular stack. Unless these crates were completely empty, there was no way they would be able to balance stably without toppling over. There was just a little too much overhang on the highest boxes for this stack to be so sturdy. To test her theory, she hoisted herself up on the lowest crate and tried to wiggle one of the centers out of place. It didn't budge. With a triumphant smile, she lowered herself back down to the floor and began searching the crates at ground level for a switch.

Her partner picked up on what she was doing, and began to search the opposite side. Lisbon wasn't sure which one of them hit the correct spot, but when a soft click sounded and a puzzle-piece shaped doorway hidden in the center of the stack swung inward, it took a bit of effort to suppress the excited "Woo hoo!" that wanted to escape from her throat.

As she motioned for her partner to follow her down the set of stairs on the other side of the door, she pushed the call button on her vest. She didn't know what they were heading into, but she wanted to make sure that they would not be alone for long.

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A noise startled Lisbon back to the present. She strained to ascertain exactly where it had come from. From somewhere in front of her and to the right, a soft groan floated to her ears.

"Hello?" she called quietly, not wanting to startle whoever was in the room with her. "Can you hear me?"

Another quiet groan was her only reply. So, she tried again. "Hello? Who's there? Talk to me, please."

"My head…"

"I know it's tough, but I need you to concentrate. Can you tell me your name?"

"Yeah, Officer Heather Belding, Austin PD SWAT. You?"

"Officer Belding, it's Agent Teresa Lisbon. Are you hurt?"

"Not that I can tell, other'n my head feels like it's been trampled by a longhorn. Where are we?"

"I have no idea. I've been blindfolded, and I haven't been able to hear anything that might help me figure anything out. Can you see anything?"

"No, I'm blindfolded, too. My hands are secure behind my back…and I think I'm chained to the floor." Lisbon heard the clanking of a chain that sounded much like her own.

"Officer Belding—"

"Please, call me Heather."

"Heather, do you remember anything about how we got here?"

"No, I'm sorry. Last thing that comes to mind is followin' you down the stairs. Then nothin'."

Lisbon sighed, the last of her hope fading fast. "That's all I remember. And you can call me Teresa."

"Thanks."

The women sat in silence for a moment, each trying in vain to remember anything that might yield useful. Heather was the first to break the silence.

"Teresa?"

"Yes?"

"What do you think they want with us? Why are they holdin' us here? Has anyone come in to talk to you? Do you think they're gonna kill us?" Heather's voice grew more panicked with each question. Lisbon decided that she would be as honest as she could, without adding any more stress to the younger woman's already aggravated state of mind.

"I don't know, Heather. No one's come in here since I've been conscious. I don't think we should worry about what is going to happen until we can get a little more information. Try to focus on your breathing."

Lisbon heard Heather take a couple of deep breaths before she spoke again. "I'm sorry, Teresa. Didn't mean to lose my head. I'm findin' it's much scarier when you're right in the middle of the situation, y'know?"

"I get what you mean. I take it this is your first kidnapping?"

She smiled at Heather's snort of laughter. "Yes, ma'am. I take it it's not yours?"

Lisbon shook her head, then remembered that Heather couldn't see her. "No, I wish I could say that it was. And it never gets any easier. You just learn not to panic quite so quickly."

"Well, I'm hopin' I never learn that lesson, Teresa." She heard a chain rattle again as Heather shifted on the floor. "So, you got kids? Married?"

"Um, no. Married to the job too long, I guess. You?"

"Yeah. Been married for six years. We have two little ones. Samantha is eleven months. She just started to walk last week. Henry is three. Gets into everything."

"They sound adorable. Tell me more about them."

As Lisbon listened to Heather talk about the many highlights of her children's lives, her smile grew wistful. Once upon a time, she had envisioned that kind of life for herself. As the years went on, she had accepted that children might not be in the cards for her, but she had still held on to the hope that she would find someone that she could share her life with.

Someone with sea blue eyes, a paralyzing smile, soft blonde curls, and a mind that would make even the most educated mortals envious. Someone that, when she was having a bad day, would pour her a glass of wine and wrap himself around her on the couch while they watched reruns of "I Love Lucy" until she felt better. Someone who, when he spoke to her in that husky tone during his most conspiratorial moments, made her toes curl inside her shoes and her knees go weak. Someone who-

No. She would not think about him now. She could not think about him now. She needed all of her wits about her, so she could hopefully get out of this room still breathing. And if she was going to die here, it was not going to be while pining for a man who had firmly put her in her place in the "friend zone." He had made his choice, now, she was forced to make hers.

"Heather?"

Heather's voice stopped mid-sentence. "What? Did you hear somethin'?"

"No, I just…. We need to discuss what's going to happen when these people finally come in and tell us what the next phase of their plan for us is."

"Ooookay. What exactly do you have in mind?"

"I'm not going to lie and say that every kidnapping is unique. Most are inherently the same. They want something, and they are going to use us as leverage to get it. In this situation, however, we each have an advantage."

"Which is what?"

"Well, if they were to release one of us, they would be more apt to get what they want. Everyone knows that the first rule of good hostage negotiation is to give a little to get a little. If they let one of us go, that would more likely garner them favor with the FBI."

"And what's the advantage for us?"

"We're both law enforcement. We have the training to be able to pick up on things that regular civilians might not. That will help whichever one of us is let go to be able to give the team looking for us a bit more to go on. Which, coincidentally, brings me to my next point."

"Which is?"

Lisbon took a deep breath. "When we convince them to let one of us go, we convince them to let it be you." She cut off Heather's immediate protest. "It's the most logical choice, and you know it. First off, and I don't mean this the way it sounds, but a Federal Agent is going to carry more bargaining weight than a local officer. They're going to want to deal with the agency that is going to be able to have the best shot at getting them what they want. That's me."

"Yes, but-"

"But nothing. You also have a couple of kids who are waiting for you to come home. The job shouldn't ever come before your family. I know you know that."

Lisbon's tone held no room for argument, but Heather tried anyway. "Look, no one wants me to get back to my kids more than I do, but you can't be sayin' that your life is of any less value than mine. Just because I have kids, doesn't automatically make it so you shouldn't take the opportunity to get outta here. You'll probably see somethin' I won't. What if I'm not able to give them any help?"

"Don't sell yourself short, Heather. You're a SWAT officer. You didn't get to that level because you were slow on your feet. And those kids do give your life priority." Lisbon closed her eyes as a vice of pain squeezed her heart. "There isn't anyone out there whose life would be irrevocably changed if I didn't make it out of here. But you…no one should ever have to grow up without a mother. Trust me on that one."

She heard Heather's sigh of acceptance. "All right. If they're willin' to let one of us go, I'll follow your lead and do my best to make sure it's me."

Lisbon closed her eyes as a mixture of fear and relief washed over her. "Thank you, Heather."

"Don't thank me yet. Not until we're both outta here."

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The worst thing about being blindfolded was the suspension of time. After Heather relented to her plan, both women were quiet. In the darkness, minutes could have been hours and hours could have been years. Lisbon had no idea how much time had passed when she heard the heavy clunk of a lock sliding open. A rush of air hit her body as a door swung open, and in an instant, she was on high alert.

"Hello, ladies. I trust you're both comfortable?"

Lisbon snorted. "Oh, absolutely. If it weren't for the absence of the fluffy towels, I'd think I was at the Ritz Carlton."

The voice gave a soft chuckle. "Good to see that rapier wit of yours make an appearance, Agent Lisbon. There is nothing I hate more than dull captives."

"That's funny," Lisbon snapped back, "because there's nothing I hate more than pompous captors."

"Now, now Agent. I'm all for a bit of clever back and forth, but I will not tolerate name calling. Cerebus, if you please."

Lisbon heard footsteps coming towards her, but was still unprepared for the swift kick that landed on her ribs. She bit back the automatic shout of pain and struggled to catch her breath. "Nice…touch," she wheezed out. "Steel…toed boots. Very…effective."

"Thank you," her captor replied. "What a nice compliment. Maybe I'll let you go after all."

"Are you kidding me?" Lisbon heard Heather exclaim from across the room. "You want a compliment? Here's a compliment: you smell wonderful today. Is that Au de Kidnapper?"

The voice chuckled again. Lisbon couldn't help but think that there was something familiar about it. Where had she heard this voice before?

"Very good, Officer Belding. You're making it very difficult to decide which one of you gets to leave."

"So," Lisbon replied, "you are thinking of letting one of us go? Why?"

"I'm not stupid, my dear. Kidnapping was not invented yesterday, and as such, my knowledge of the dos and don'ts is quite extensive. I realize that I have a couple of very useful bargaining chips. And I've always loved a good gamble."

"Then how about a safe bet?" Lisbon offered. "If you've truly done your research, you know how far you're going to get with each of us. If it's power you want, keep me. If it's ruin you want, keep her."

More footsteps, softer this time, made their way to her side. She tensed, expecting a blow. Instead, a gloved hand caressed the side of her face. "And why, pray tell, will your release bring my ruin?"

"Because," Lisbon replied, her voice more controlled than she felt, "I am very good at my job. And I have nothing to lose. If you let me go, I will spend every waking minute making it my sole mission in life to hunt you down and take you out."

"Hmm. You're very confident for a woman chained to the floor." The hand caressed her face again, this time running its leather-clad fingers through her hair. "I'd be curious what you'd do if you weren't so…restrained."

Lisbon swallowed the bile that rose in her throat at his touch. She was thankful at that moment that she was blindfolded, for she was she wouldn't be able to hide the fear and revulsion in her eyes.

"Though I'm tempted to call your bluff, Agent, I do believe it would be in my best interest to keep my trump card close. Cerebus, would you please unchain Officer Belding? Keep the blindfold on. I'll meet you both upstairs shortly."

Lisbon heard the door click shut. She'd only heard two pairs of footsteps leave, however, so she knew he was still in the room with her. "Are you going to say something? Or are you just going to stand there like a creep and stare at me?"

"Very good, Lisbon. Your powers of observation sure have increased over the years. I suppose, now that Officer Belding is gone, I can rid you of that blindfold. After all, I already know who I am."

She felt the cloth around her eyes loosen, and then fall away. It took a second for her to adjust to the dim lighting in the room. When they did, she looked into the face of her captor. Her eyes widened in recognition.

And in that moment, Teresa Lisbon knew she was going to die.

As always, if you feel so inclined, please let me know what you think. I will do my best to respond to each one. :)