Pretending to read the file before her, Lisbon looked up as Jackson appeared in her doorway softly calling her name as he closed and locked her door behind him. The Agent had gone home a couple of hours ago long before her tirade. What was he doing back? And what did he want with her? They weren't working a case together and they weren't casual hangout friends. Aware it looked as though she were resting her hand on her belly, Lisbon tightened her grip on her gun as she pretended to absently rub her tummy keeping her weapon out of sight. Something felt off about this visit. Way off.
"Hey, Sean, did you forget something? I thought you'd gone home." Lisbon said wishing her team was nearby as the hair stood up on the back of her neck.
Whatever the other agent had planned, he was effectively blocking her only route of escape and she didn't like that. It seemed too planned to be an accident. Watching the man, Lisbon doubted he'd ever gone home at all. It was obvious he'd been waiting and watching for the perfect opportunity for whatever and decided tonight was it. It was also quite clear he knew exactly where Jane and her team were and that they wouldn't interfere with his plans. Finding her thoughts unnerving, Lisbon chose to keep her attention focused on the other agent instead.
"I changed my mind. There was still a thing or two I needed to do." Lisbon noted the creepy note in his voice.
Sean didn't sound exactly like himself. His voice was reedier and softer than his normal tone. Like he was trying to lull her into a deceptive calm she so wasn't falling for. She didn't know what kind of game he was playing; but, she didn't like it. She didn't like it one bit. Where was Jane when she needed him? Or better yet Rigsby, Van Pelt, or Cho? The ones who'd shoot and ask questions later.
Watching him take a step closer, Lisbon caught a metallic glint in his waist band that shouldn't be there. The question ripped through her mind since when did CBI agent carry knives? The answer was simple. They didn't. Especially not specialized blades like that one which she was quite familiar with. It was a knife made for butchering.
Lisbon drew her gun and fired about the time it registered she was looking down the barrel of a high powered silenced pistol that was anything but department issue. Watching his finger depress in seeming slow motion, she pushed to the side as she fired off a second round slowly rising to her feet intent on making a break for it if she got the chance. Lisbon had no intentions of dying, and Jane's son with her, with her lover just a few feet away. No one was murdering Jane's child a second time around. Least of all that vile bastard…It was so not going to happen.
Watching Jackson's body jerk on impact as the pistol fell from his hand, Lisbon resisted the urge to fire a third round. The competing crimson blossoms blooming across his chest and abdomen as he crumbled to the ground made such action overkill. That wouldn't play well on the evening news. Smirking at the thought that second shot wasn't even necessary, Lisbon was glad she'd spent all that time at the range. Though it might take a while for her "victim" to bleed out, they both knew the first bullet had done the trick.
#
Rigbsy, Van Pelt, and Cho looked up at the sound of gun shots being fired. They'd retreated to the attic for a while to give Lisbon a chance to cool down and get her mind back on work. It seemed she needed it and they needed a break. Van Pelt was piddling with some kind of picture she was embroidering in secret for the baby. She said it was going to a polar bear. It just looked like she was making squiggles and x's with different shades of ivory thread on pale blue cloth to the guys. Whatever, it was a girl thing.
Cho was reading a new book. Not exactly a new book, a classic, but a brand new copy of some boring old classic. Jane and Rigsby had been playing a half hearted game of chess until Jane had decided to go downstairs to fix another cup of tea. They weren't even sure he'd had time to get there much less anything else. Now it was just the three of them hanging out in the attic waiting for Lisbon to cool her heels. Or it had been until they'd heard that shot. Now it was the three of them barreling down the stairs in the direction of Lisbon's office.
Jane almost dropped the cup of tea he was in process of raising to his lips as the sound of shots tore through the building. He splashed some across the table instead. Slinging his cup aside, he shoved the chair back so hard it crashed to the floor with a bang. He really didn't care. An over turned chair was the last thing on Patrick Jane's mind as he race around the corner towards Lisbon's office.
#
As though watching from afar or through a haze, Lisbon saw disbelief spread across Jackson's face as his chest and gut blossomed with crimson flowers. He'd not expected this. He'd not expected her to be prepared for his coming. He'd expected to disable the pregnant woman before she could react and finish the job with that nasty knife she'd glimpsed right under the noses of Jane and her team. He'd been so sure of the outcome he hadn't even hadn't bothered wearing any disguise. No mask, nothing. He'd wanted her to know exactly who was snuffing her life and the life of Jane's unborn child. He'd wanted her to understand exactly why they'd never been able to stop him. He was just too smart. And he walked among them each and every day.
Keeping her eyes on her fallen foe, Lisbon refused to tremble at the realization Jackson had stared into her eyes across a desk many a time discussing one of the countless cases they'd worked together over the years. He'd even handed her a platter of barbeque chicken to carry to Minelli at the last office picnic in the park by the river. They'd danced a time or two over the years at the infamous CBI Christmas Parties. Years both were equally thrilled as Senior Agents at being compelled to attend. They'd probably even gotten slightly tipsy together on more than one occasion if she were honest. She really hated that stupid party, or she had until last year with Jane.
Jackson had even gone out with Boscoe and the boys for a beer at least a couple of times a week. She'd joined them a time or two. She'd beaten the man at pool more than once and he hadn't been half bad. Jackson had done all of that and he'd still been able to have his colleagues killed in such a despicable manner. He hadn't even allowed them to die in the field like the dedicated men they were.
He'd made their deaths pointless instead. Robbed wives and children of husbands and fathers for no other reason than to prove he could and to torment Jane of course. Catching a glimpse of Jane's pale face and stricken eyes, his near catatonic demeanor, she had to turn away. What he had done to Jane, to all of them, was unforgivable.
Composing herself, Lisbon ignored the tear coursing down her cheek. That thought made her so mad she saw red. Boscoe should have died with dignity. His men should have been cut down in a blaze of glory saving lives if it had to happen at all. Not in the ignoble way any of them had gone. Coming back to herself, Lisbon realized her foot hurt. That was going to be a hell of thing to explain to the M.E. when he arrived. That Senior Agent Teresa Lisbon had suddenly hauled off and kicked Sean Jackson's carcass in a fit of uncontrollable rage. Maybe she'd even cracked a toe or two in the doing. That man wasn't worth hurting herself over.
What was almost worse than any of the other was he'd asked her out a few times over the years. She'd even briefly considered going once or twice though she never had. She'd found something vaguely off-putting about him even then. Despite his charm and good looks there was something in his eyes she hadn't liked. Thank God for small blessings. She wouldn't have been able to live with herself if she had.
Shaking the thought, Lisbon reminded herself one of the reasons she'd not found him attractive was the man was obviously an unmitigated fool. He'd known her as well as anyone at the CBI except maybe Jane and Minelli or Boscoe when he'd been alive. He should have known she'd never let him get the upper hand. Not where Jane was concerned. Not where their child was concerned. She'd never let Jane go through the hell of that kind of loss again. Not in a million years.
"You okay, boss?" Cho was the first to recover the use of his tongue after what they'd just learned. He was still having trouble handling the fact the elusively deadly foe they'd all been fighting so long was a man he'd seen every day. He was one of them. One who'd transferred in from another office a few years ago.
He was also having trouble processing the sight and sound of Lisbon kicking the stuffing out of a dead guy. He'd not seen that one coming. Not that he really blamed her. She'd only done what they'd all like to do and couldn't. There had to be a rule on the books somewhere against desecrating corpses. Using a corpse as a kickball would definitely qualify even if it was probably Red John getting desecrated. Probably since they honestly didn't now. Jackson could just be another whacko copy cat. He wouldn't be the first cop to slide over the edge.
Cho glanced at his team mates. Rigsby stood just inside the door with his arm around an ashen Van Pelt as they both watched the scene unfold in disbelief. It was a good thing Grace couldn't see herself. She'd be mortified. That slightly gray color really didn't go well with her hair. Rigsby was still a little on the white side too. They were both pale and guilt ridden for leaving the boss.
Cho read the thoughts on their face. Someone had just tried to kill Lisbon in her office here at work and not just anyone. Red John had. He'd have killed them both without a second thought. He'd have slashed them to bits under their noses and left his sick calling card decorating her wall while they laughed upstairs oblivious to what was happening below. They wouldn't have heard a sound. Neither would Jane since the breakroom wasn't all that close to Lisbon's office. Jane would have lost his woman and child for the second time to the same soulless monster. That thought was too horrific to contemplate.
Red John had almost succeeded, too, because they hadn't been where they ought to be. They'd been too busy being offended by cranky Lisbon. By the scathing remarks she'd made to Jane. Even though he'd not been so terribly offended himself. As a result, none of them had been by her side including her lover.
Not that he'd have been much help; but, then again he might have surprised them. He had shot Hardy. Besides, it was Lisbon and his child they were talking about. It was his Lisbon and his child at risk. On second thought, he'd have probably torn the bastard limb from limb with his bare hands. Oh, yeah, that would have been a sight to behold and it would have given Jane the satisfaction of having brought the whole sorry chapter to an end. Though that wasn't how it had happened Red John was dead.
If there were any doubts to the man's identity, the note Cho just pulled from his pocket dispelled any reservations they might have. Written on plain stock paper, it contained seven simple words written in what was certainly not brownish red ink: Another present for Patrick Jane, Red John. Written and signed with a smiley face drawn in blood, Cho couldn't help hoping it was the murderer's blood and not another hapless victim's they'd yet to discover. From the looks of him, Jane would not handle that well.
"I'm okay." Lisbon wiped the blood off her face with the towel she kept tucked in her workout bag in the corner.
Jackson had gotten too close for comfort before she could get off her first round much less her second. She was spattered with things she didn't even want to imagine being spattered with. To make matters worse, it wasn't like she was going home for a shower anytime soon. A lunatic from hell had just tried to kill her and not just any lunatic. He was a lunatic that also happened to be the well-respected police officer working in the cubicle across the hall and three offices down. How was she going to explain that? If she thought the paperwork they were working on earlier had been a royal pain, she hadn't seen anything yet.
Leaning over though they both knew it was pointless, Cho efficiently checked for a pulse. Looking at Lisbon he shook his head. That man was definitely dead. He couldn't help thinking maybe he'd still had enough life left in him to feel the lethal kick a very pregnant Lisbon had delivered with considerable force. He really hoped he had.
Turning, Lisbon caught sight once again of Jane standing in the doorway. He'd been standing there in silence for quite a while since he was the first of the team to arrive on the scene. From the look in his eyes, he was trying to process what had almost happened and what, in fact, had already happened. He obviously wasn't handling any of it well. Or the fact Sean Jackson had been Red John all along. Lisbon watched him shake himself as the cobwebs fell away and his mind seemed to visibly clear before them.
"Hey, Lisbon, you're hurt." Van Pelt said.
"It's just a scratch." As stupid movie cliche as it was, Jackson's bullet had caught her jacket sleeve and shirt leaving a thin trail of red. It was nothing a little antiseptic and a bandage wouldn't fix. No stitches necessary. "He ruined my favorite blazer. I ought to kick him again."
"Nah, don't bother. He's not worth trying to explain why you kicked him a second time. Not worth the trouble. We'll buy you another. There's less annoying paperwork that way." Ever the showman, Jane sounded like Jane and not at all as he looked.
"You might have a point there." She agreed.
Lisbon's eyes never wavered from Jane's. She could see the cracks appearing and radiating from his soul. The man was shattering before her eyes and there was nothing she could do to stop it. Except hold her arms wide open and wait for him to come in. The breath was knocked from her lungs at the force of impact as Jane engulfed her in his arms not caring he was getting equally smeared with unmentionable things.
The team stood silently watching as they just held each other as though they would never let go. Jane's chin was resting on top of Lisbon's head as he gave into the uncontrollable shaking threatening to bring him to his knees. There was no doubt who was supporting whom. As there was no doubt Jane's body was wracked with tears. He'd come too close to losing it all again.
Catching Lisbon's eye, Cho conveyed by his glance his belief this was not something they needed to witness. A slight nod of her head confirmed her assent. With a jerk of his head, Cho indicated to Rigsby it was time to go. Sweeping Van Pelt out of the room with the arm still wrapped around her, the stunned couple followed their surrogate leader back to the bullpen. They needed to get this show on the road starting with making the necessary phone calls which Cho had already begun.
Back in Lisbon's office she allowed them to gently sink to the floor. Her knees like overdone spaghetti, she could no longer support their combined weight. Adrenaline waning, reaction was starting to set in. She wasn't surprised to realize they had settled into a familiar pattern from what seemed like a lifetime ago. Jane lay with his head on her lap suspended in stillness while her hand stroked through his hair reassuringly occasionally becoming tangled in his golden curls.
Closing her eyes, Lisbon found great peace and comfort in the familiarity of the moment. This is how they were found a while later by Hightower, the M.E., and the various members of their teams. Lisbon hoped briefly that what they'd seen wouldn't become fodder for water cooler gossip but quickly abolished the thought. What the hell. Let them talk. It wasn't like she could stop it anyway. She never had.