A/N: Thank you all for reading and reviewing! I'm floored that so many people are interested in this story-and it makes me increasingly nervous that I will mess it up somehow. Haha!

xxxx Lisbon POV xxxx

Before going to Madeleine's to get ready for the day, she stopped off at her room. As she showered, she thought about what she'd told Patrick. She truly felt that a weight had been lifted from her shoulders. She was finally free: free to tell the men who doubted her exactly where they could shove their doubts. Doubt was starting to creep into her thoughts, though. She really quit her job and her life's work. What was next?

Dressing quickly and grabbing her bracelet out of the lock box, she made her way to Madeleine's room. She was surprised at the sight that greeted her at the door.

"There she is!" Patrick greeted her with a bouquet of gorgeous fall flowers followed by a quick kiss on the lips. "These are for you."

"I figured. Don't you usually give them to someone after they do a thing?"

"Meh. I'm not one for those kinds of traditions. I saw them and thought you'd like them. Besides, you never know what I have planned for after the show!"

"And you were correct. I love them." She smiled as she met his blue eyes. He could certainly ooze charm when he wanted to, and she was glad that he chose to ooze charm around her. Of course, she was susceptible to it. As she was lost in his eyes, she heard Madeleine clear her throat. "Hi there! Where is everyone? Am I early?"

Madeleine smiled a slightly sad smile. "I had to send everyone else home. Though I'm here to continue helping you, I couldn't pay for their fees."

"Oh. I see. Are you sure you want to continue with this? I appreciate all of your help so far, but I…"

Madeleine waved her hand as she walked over to place her hands on her shoulders. "It's fine. I will help you get ready. Max will be here tomorrow before the pageant to do any quick alterations we might need as a personal favor to me."

"Are you sure?"

The other woman laughed, making her hoop earrings jiggle. "Honey, I don't just boss people around. Between the two of us, I know we can handle your hair, makeup, and skin care needs. It will be just fine."

Patrick whistled from his new found spot on the couch. "Natural. Beauty."

She turned at him, scrunching her face into a smile. "Stop it." He just winked at her.

"I can give you two a moment." Her consultant looked pointedly at Patrick. "Once she's ready, you will not touch her at all, so get it out of your system now."

"Not even a little bit?" He frowned like a little boy, which truly made her want to giggle.

"No." Her consultant stood firm.

"You guys do know that I am standing right here, yes?" Patrick met her where she was standing and kissed her once again.

Once they were apart, he stroked her cheek. "Go get made up like a little princess."

"Oh shut up!" She tried really hard to keep the smile from forming on her face as he beamed with pride, but it made her feel special. Out of principle, she just always pretended to have an aversion to the name. Most of the men who had surrounded her for the better part of 20 years would've surely used "princess" as anything but a compliment, but there was always the soft, possessiveness in his voice when he said it.

She followed Madeleine into her dressing room. Today, she would wear a simple, burgundy, halter-neck dress that fell just below her knees and golden stiletto sandals of a similar height to the shoes she would wear tomorrow. Honestly, the idea of prancing around a stage on live tv in 5 inch heels would never be the most appealing idea and definitely not at the top of the list of things she'd consider fun. She constantly reminded herself that even if she did find herself starting to have fun and learning new things about herself, this was for the job.

As her consultant worked through her hair-flattening, curling, and styling it-she worked on her makeup. She couldn't help but think about the somewhat comical turn of events. Albeit, a job she didn't have anymore, but she was still working on this case. People used to teasingly call her "Saint Teresa" and talk about her dedication to the job. Here, she was: no job, but she was still working the case. Everything in her gut told her that this Haibach guy wasn't Red John, and that was before Jane confirmed what she knew. No, that guy was just a run of the mill creep.

She replayed every piece of evidence she'd ever reviewed in her mind. Knowing what she knew about Lorelei and Miranda, she would be willing to bet on Bertram or McAllister. They'd both sent off alarm bells when she spoke to them. She hadn't yet had time to really go over any of this with her team or Patrick. If anything, the last few days had shown her why he always complained about how suffocating and restrictive the FBI was.

It wasn't long before Madeleine brought her out of her thoughts. "Remember: less is more. I'll have to exfoliate you tonight."

"Please. You sound like my mother telling me not to overdo it. I've got this. You just worry about that situation up there."

Madeleine laughed. "You think your moderately curly hair is that hard to handle? No, I could handle this in my sleep. Just a friendly reminder that we're going for a look that will look nice on stage and camera. We're not making you into a VSCO girl."

The corners of her mouth turned up slightly. "Ok. I have no idea what that even means, but my makeup will be fine. It will not be overdone."

"Not like your resignation today?"

She momentarily stopped applying her makeup, her brush hovering over her face. "You don't think I did the right thing?"

Madeleine placed the flat iron on the table and placed both of her hands on her shoulders. Their eyes met in the mirror in front of them. Not for the first time, she reflected on how gorgeous Madeleine was herself.

"It doesn't matter what I think; it only matters what you think-and I can tell you've been doing a lot of that since you sat down in this chair. I think you were faced with a very difficult situation where those you work with refused to hear you out, even when you spoke your truth. You stuck with your principles and your gut, even if that came at a deeply personal cost to you."

Her consultant's brown eyes held that knowing look, the one that women sometimes traded as an open secret. How could she not know? She was speaking to the one woman in the world who didn't have to know everything that happened to understand perfectly what happened.

As a single tear escaped her eye, she steeled herself. Crying wouldn't do. For many reasons right now. "How do you do this?"

"One day at a time, but I think you already know that. You'd be hard pressed to find a woman in the pageant world who hasn't experienced something similar to what you're going through when they somehow fail to play the game."

"I'm done playing games."

Madeleine squeezed her shoulders. "Good for you. Every woman has to figure out what that means for herself."

She reached up, placing her right hand on top of Madeleine's. "I appreciate you. Thank you for listening."

Her consultant squeezed her fingers. "You're welcome, Teresa."

With a nod, both women got back to work. "You know, I'd do the same for you." Madeleine laughed out loud at that. "What's so funny?"

She shook her again, her hoop earrings once again swaying side to side with her. "You're sweet, and you're very helpful. But I'd never let you touch my hair."

Lisbon's cheeks turned pink with slight embarrassment. "Oh, I didn't mean...you know what? If you ever want to learn how to shoot or something like that, just call me!"

Once again, her consultant laughed. "Now, that I might have to take you up on! You know what? I need some music." Grabbing her phone, Madeleine cued up some music.

She started nodding to the music slightly. "Ok, I can work to this."

"All right! Then, let's knock this out." This playlist took her back to a time when songs with her friends meant freedom. It wasn't long before she found herself, as well as Madeleine, singing along. She had no idea how loud, or how silly they may have sounded, to anyone who could hear them-and it didn't really matter. She stood up for herself; she was free.

xxxx Jane POV xxxx

Without the force of the FBI, he needed a plan to take down Red John. Though he always knew his plans would probably diverge from the official FBI plan, not having any sort of real law enforcement support changed things. Of course, he still had Teresa who would do everything she could-but she had always been clear about not going too far. At some point, the women had turned on some music. He wasn't sure exactly what it was, but the woman singing had a very nice voice. It was decent music for thinking. As he was formulating a plan, his phone buzzed in his pocket.

"Hello?"

"Jane. Where are you?"

"Oh hey, Grace. In Madeleine's room. Why? What's up?"

"Minelli has given us the green light to stay on. We're on our way to you." He knew Minelli would heed his words on Teresa. He wouldn't just turn his back on her or let her walk away like that. He wouldn't accept what was done in the heat of the moment.

"Ok. I'll let Lisbon know."

"See you soon." Though he couldn't see her, he could hear her smile.

In spite of his propensity to break the rules, having the team back on board was a relief. It gave this a sense of legitimacy that mattered less to him than it did to Teresa. Getting up from his sofa, he went to the dressing room to let Lisbon know the team was staying on. Peeking his head around the corner, he stopped dead in his tracks as he took in the sight of the two women in the dressing room.

"And it's just like hoonnneyyy! When your love comes over me!" Not only were they singing, but they were dancing.

It was like they'd choreographed their moves. As Teresa swayed to one side, singing into her makeup brush, Madeleine moved to the other singing into the tool she was using on Teresa's hair. He smiled as they sang like they were getting ready to perform this at a school's talent show. They were clearly having a moment. A smile spread across his face as joy filled his body at seeing the kind of connection Teresa had made with Madeleine. A sinister side of him wanted to take out his phone and silently record this moment, but after watching for a bit longer and not wanting to pry on their moment too much, he returned to his sofa.

Not much longer after, there was a knock at the door, announcing the team's arrival. He opened the door, a bit surprised to see Minelli in tow with Cho, Rigsby, and Van Pelt.

"Hey guys."

"Hey. So we're still good to work out of your room, right?" Cho's attention was almost immediately drawn to the two women belting lyrics out of the dressing room.

"It's like honey when it washes over me. You know sugar never ever was so sweet!" They were still going strong in the dressing room.

Jane could only smile at the slight look of confusion on Cho's face. "Just a little pre-pageant singing I think. Though, this is at least their third time on this song. I think they must really like it."

"Oh yeah. Honey by Mariah Carey. She has amazing vocals and a song for every occasion." At that, they all turned to stare at Rigsby.

"What? Like I'm the only one who thinks that?"

"No, but do you want to go join the karaoke party in the dressing room? I'm sure there's some part of pageant prep you can help with." Van Pelt was clearly teasing him.

Minelli interrupted their joking. Clearly on edge, he wanted to know where he stood with Teresa. "Does Agent Lisbon know we are here?"

Cho responded. "Based on how she's still singing, I'm going to say no." He was not wrong. Teresa wouldn't be caught dead performing the way she was in that dressing room in front of her colleagues-well, her former colleagues. Obviously, the women had been too busy singing to register the arrival of their new guests. "But I'd say she's definitely been holding out on karaoke as a team building activity."

They all laughed at that. As their good natured banter continued, Teresa and Madeleine entered the living room. While they had been giggling and talking, they stopped dead in their tracks.

"Oh my God! What the hell are all of you doing here?" The color drained from her face. She knew they'd heard her.

Cho looked around before answering once more. "Attending a concert?" As Madeleine touched her hand to her forehead and Teresa held her mouth agape, everyone laughed. Well, everyone laughed except Minelli who still looked incredibly tense. "SAC Minelli reinstated us back onto the case and has given us permission to stay here to continue in the search for Red John."

He could see her eyes meet Minelli's as the man motioned toward the door. "Can we talk for a moment, Teresa?" They both looked equally fearful at the sight of the other. Without a doubt, Minelli wanted to set things right.

Those gorgeous emerald eyes met his own, not for his approval, but with a curious expression on her face. He just nodded his head toward Minelli. They both needed this. "Yeah, sure."

"Hold on one moment please. Let's get your sash on." Teresa stood still as Madeleine slid the Miss California sash over her head and over her dress. The cream colored sash, with the words written in gold, was trimmed in gold with small emerald beading adorning the edges of the trim. As she looked up at him, catching him staring, he couldn't be bothered to care as his only thought was how that sash intensified her eyes. Absolutely stunning. "Now, be careful with this. It's silk and you don't want to damage the gem work on this."

"Ok, I won't make any sudden movements...as I prance around on a stage." Madeleine glared at her while her mouth moved to one side of her face. Clearly, she was amused as Teresa made to follow Minelli out of the room. The two women were kindred spirits of a sort.

As she followed her former boss out of the room, he could only think about how she looked every bit a Miss California. Even though she played this role only to catch a killer, she walked with the stunning grace of a beauty queen. That was all her. It had always been her.

xxxx Lisbon POV xxxx

Her surprise at seeing her former team members standing in Madeleine's living space was quickly followed by a wave of embarrassment as she realized that they'd been listening to her and Madeleine's singing session. However, she couldn't shake the surprise she felt at seeing Virgil Minelli standing before her right now.

Without a fuss, she went into a hallway to speak to him for the second time today.

As the door closed behind them, there was a long moment of silence as he stared directly into her eyes. The prolonged eye contact was starting to make her a bit uncomfortable because there was something she couldn't quite read in his eyes. They were quite soft as he looked down to her arms. She wasn't sure why until he sighed heavily. Oh. He was looking at her bruises. Suddenly, she felt rather exposed as she brought her hands up to her arms, hoping to cover the very bruises that had caught his eye.

"Tell me the truth: did Ray Haffner give you those?" Her eyebrows shot up and her pulse started to race. Shit. How could he know that? She blinked rapidly a few times, trying to process that question. It didn't matter. He wasn't her boss anymore. She had nothing to fear, but she had no idea where this question was coming from. She'd said nothing to him.

As her thoughts raced, he repeated the question. "Did Haffner put those bruises on you?" His voice was flat, void of the usual annoyance he radiated when he felt someone was evading him. He just sounded...dejected.

Honestly, she'd meant to cover the bruises, but she and Madeleine got distracted. It was a mistake, but one she'd make sure to fix tomorrow. Her mouth went dry. She hated that Haffner had even marked her, let alone that others knew it. And Minelli? How?

"Yes." She heard herself answer the question before she processed that she'd actually said anything. If it were possible, she'd crawl under the nearby table.

He closed his eyes as he took a deep breath. "How long has this been going on, Teresa?"

She was genuinely confused. "What?"

"How long has Haffner been laying his hands on you without your consent? I reckon we have a word for that. How long have these assaults been occurring?"

She was absolutely dumbstruck. "How…"

"It turns out that the same people who you'd gladly fall on your sword for believe you are owed justice, or at least an opportunity to be heard. I tend to agree with them. You don't have to answer my questions. Not here. Not now. I'd like to talk about it later. I'm just...I'm sorry that I've made it so that you couldn't trust me enough to confide in me."

"Boss...Virgil...it wasn't personal."

He looked at her with a sad smile. "Oh no, it very much is. For the life of me, I couldn't understand why you were so angry earlier and asking if I'd listen to you if you'd come to me first. I thought 'no, I wouldn't listen because whatever you'd say to me would be heavily influenced by Jane.' I didn't have trust that you'd give me a fair and independent assessment...and that wasn't even what that comment was about was it? You were wondering if you'd reported him or called me early on, if I'd listened."

"I guess."

"I created a situation where you couldn't trust me to ensure your safety-not just on this case but as a person. For that, I'm truly sorry. I never meant to put you in a dangerous spot. Please believe me when I say that I am done with Ray Haffner. He will never work for me again. If I have my way, he's not long for the FBI."

"That's not necessary." Surely, that seemed like a defense of some kind to the man in front of her. How could she explain that Haffner's reaction to her not welcoming his advances had made her blood run so cold that she shuddered to think what could happen if he thought she was the reason he lost his job?

"Believe me: it's necessary. Any man who'd see fit to assault a woman, let alone one of my agents, isn't fit for my team or the FBI."

"I'm not one of your agents."

He smiled. "Yes, you are."

"I resigned."

"That's not what I heard you say. You're still one of ours, Agent Lisbon. If you can accept my apology and promise that I will do better, we can leave that resignation business behind. At least for now. If it's something you still want to do after this case, I won't stand in your way. I can't tell you how to live your life, or how to feel about any of this, but I can tell you that I don't want you resigning because you don't feel safe...or valued. If you believe Red John is still out there, it's best to get at him as an FBI Agent, don't you think?"

"What about Jane?"

"Like I told the others, I assume you're a package deal. I guess I owe him an apology, too. I believed he was putting you at risk of harm."

"Is that why you were so angry with him?"

"Beyond the normal reasons?" They both shared a smile at that. True enough, she loved the man, but he could create situations that pushed people to their limits. "It is part of why I refused to hear you out. I'd rather have you mad at me than dead. I didn't know the full picture, and I may have if I had your trust."

She nodded along. She questioned herself on why she didn't call Minelli. She thought she could handle everything with her brand of professionalism, which certainly included not crying foul at any minor inconvenience. But Haffner was definitely more than a minor inconvenience. He'd put her and her entire team in an incredibly rough spot.

"Boss, I don't really know how to talk about any of this in a way that you would understand. All I know is that if this is the cost of doing business, it's too high."

He knitted his brows. She could sense his worry. She wanted to tell him everything was fine and not to worry. Only, she didn't feel fine, and she did worry. The idea of being around him made her feel disgusting; it was the exact opposite of everything she felt earlier when she was singing carefree in Madeleine's room.

"What did he do, Teresa? Did he…"

She could sense where that question was headed, and she didn't even want to hear it, let alone answer it. "Please don't ask me that."

"I won't. But the fact that you feel safer chasing down serial killers without weapons or backup than spending another minute near Haffner speaks volumes." He extended his arms out toward her. "Come here, kid."

She looked at his extended arms for seconds before walking into his embrace. She'd always looked up to Minelli, and she knew he spoke nothing but hard truths and sincerity. Maybe this is what Patrick saw earlier that she couldn't see.

"One more chance please?"

"I can do that, but settle whatever it is between you and Jane. He's not going anywhere."

"I will, but somehow, I think he already knows. You know, he kicked up a fuss over your resignation. He was the one who sounded the alarm."

"Did he now?"

"Yes, it was how I first knew I'd had this all wrong. Whether you realize it or not, many people care about you, Teresa. Just know that I choose you. I will always choose you over the likes of that shit stain." It was there, in Virgil Minelli's embrace, that she realized the weight she thought had been lifted earlier wasn't. As she shed a single tear and hoped she didn't mess up her makeup, she realized that weight was gone now.

After a few seconds, they broke. He tapped her on the shoulder. "Let's go catch a killer."

xxxxxx

Rehearsal went well. Erica was surprisingly coordinated, which worked well for their group since they were now down a woman. Being on stage seemed a lot less daunting than she assumed it would be, even as she continued looking for any possible point of attack from Red John. She had her team back, and she trusted them with her security, but Red John loved surprise attacks.

As she approached the dias, she smiled widely and waved to the empty auditorium. It was bizarre to think of exactly how many people would be here tomorrow to watch this show. She saw Patrick off in the wings. She smiled widely at him, as he returned the smile.

"So what did you think?" After a day that felt like years, it was nice to reconnect with her roommate. Michelle looked nervous, but not as bad as yesterday at the swimsuit competition.

"It was fine. I think this is going to go well, don't you?"

"I do!" She noticed Erica signaling to her and Michelle.

"Gracie! Michelle! Get over here for a photo!"

They joined her across the room, near some Miss America 2017 decorations. "A group photo, huh?"

"Just something nice to remember this by."

The four of them-Teresa, Michelle, Kim, and Erica-got into the photo as Erica snapped a selfie of them in their dresses and sashes. Never in a million years did Teresa think she'd ever be a part of something like this.

"What are your plans for tonight?"

"I think I'm going to grab dinner with Finn. Keep it low key."

"Anything is bound to be more low key than last night."

"This is true. I'm going to find my consultant and probably head out. Do you guys have something planned?"

Erica and Michelle both shook their heads. Kim didn't say anything. She just assumed Kim's plans were Erica's plans. "We don't have any plans, but are you coming to stay in our room tonight?"

Shit. She was wearing the bracelet, which meant people were listening again. Instead of words, she just shook her head.

"Ok, Erica is staying! We'll see you later!" Erica and Michelle walked off together. Watching the two of them together, becoming two peas in a pod, was nothing short of amazing.

Kim had moved to stand next to her. "I don't know about you, but I'm old enough to remember Miss Refinement trying to bully Michelle. Now, they're best friends with Michelle calling the shots."

"Who would have thought?" The two women smiled at each other.

"Is everything on track?"

"As far as I know!"

"I'm glad to hear it! Have a fun dinner with your guy. I think he's waiting over there for you." She pointed, and there he was. Patrick was standing there next to Madeleine, staring at her with all of the swagger of a 90s romcom protagonist.

She nudged Kim's shoulder with her own. "See you tomorrow."

She joined Madeleine and Patrick. "So was everything good?"

"You did a fine job, Teresa. Let's say 11am tomorrow if you can exfoliate on your own tonight?"

"I think I can manage!" After taking her sash, Madeleine walked away, leaving her alone with Patrick.

"You did more than a fine job. So do you get to keep the sash when this is over?"

She wrinkled her eyebrows. "Well, yeah. I guess. Technically, it belongs to Miss California."

He glanced down and looked back up with a smile that reached his eyes a bit of heat rising in his neck. "Good."

Noticing that look, she returned the smile. "You know people can hear you, right?"

"Meh. It's just Van Pelt."

"You're going to make her bleach her ears." He laughed at that.

"Dinner will be delivered to my room in about 45 minutes. I figured we could have a team meeting over dinner. You know, talk about the day, debrief, and formulate a plan of action for tomorrow."

She blinked rapidly for a moment. She was pleasantly surprised to hear he wanted to formulate a plan with the team. "Sounds good to me. I just...do you mind if I run up to my room to grab a few things for tonight?"

Catching her meaning, he smiled once more. "Of course. Do you want me to come up with you?"

"Jane, I think I can manage a few items in a crowded hotel."

From the use of his last name and the tone of her voice, she could tell he took her point. "Fair enough. See you when you get upstairs?"

"Yep." He kissed her cheek. Smiling, she walked back to her room. At least this way, she could grab a few items and not be at the mercy of a very forward thinking Van Pelt to bring her some fresh clothes for the morning.

Reaching her room, she pulled out her key card, but she was suddenly stunned as her head hit the wall outside of her room. It took a moment for her fight or flight senses to kick in, but then she saw someone else's hand behind her. She threw her elbow behind him, obviously connecting with the soft tissue of his gut as he let out a groan.

He slammed her head against the wall again, this time causing her to become dizzy. She swung behind her again as the man pressed her into the wall. She tried to break free, but it was to no avail as she felt a cold needle prick the skin on her neck.

"Oh, we are going to have so much fun, little lamb."

She could feel herself fastly fading into darkness as her limbs suddenly felt heavy as she resolved to fight no matter how futile it seemed. Before she lost consciousness, she quickly slipped out a prayer. No matter what, she hoped Patrick knew this was not his fault.

xxxx Jane POV xxxx

"So what did you guys do with the few hours you didn't have me?" While he may have had some skill in solving cases, he didn't actually believe they couldn't function without him. Maybe things just took longer. "Must've been really boring."

Rigsby laughed. "Yeah, no one threatening lawsuits or having to break up any fights you started. It was very boring."

They all laughed, even Minelli. He'd decided to stay on with them and manage the situation. He respected the older man's sense of responsibility in this matter. He only hoped he didn't overcorrect on the situation.

There was a knock on the door, which led him to leap off of the couch. He assumed it was Teresa, but it was actually room service. She told him she'd be grabbing a few things, but that shouldn't take so long. He reached for his phone and checked it. No new messages. He was sure something pageant related was probably keeping her, but that couldn't quell the gnawing fear in his gut that something might be wrong.

He wished he had followed after her. When she said she could handle getting her things by herself, he knew that she could. He would never doubt her. But Red John was a wild card. The feeling got stronger as the minutes ticked away.

"Guys, I think I'm going to go check on Lisbon."

Risgby harrumphed while Cho and Van Pelt just looked at him with knowing, sparkling eyes. "I doubt she needs a babysitter, Jane."

Of course, Minelli didn't know about them and thought this was somehow about his controlling impulses instead of what it really was: he just needed to make sure she was ok. By taking things to the next level, he'd put her into a specific line of danger with Red John. That was clear from what happened last night. Red John came for Teresa because of him.

"No, of course she doesn't. I just thought I'd go check up on her and let her know that we're all here waiting on her to get started on making plans for tomorrow." For his part, Minelli was working toward an apology of some nature, probably for thinking he'd negatively influenced Teresa. Truthfully, he probably had been a negative influence on her, but not in the ways that Haffner had convinced their boss. He wasn't ready yet, and honestly, he didn't care enough to make the man feel like shit as he worked his way toward clearing his conscience. He didn't even care if he got an apology; he was happy that he and Teresa had made up.

As he was making his way towards the door, his phone vibrated in his pocket. Teresa. "Hey, where are you? We're waiting for you."

"I'm sorry, but you're going to be waiting for quite a while, Patrick." His heart dropped as he heard that voice on the other end of the line, on Teresa's end of the line. He turned around to face the room of agents, putting his hand up and waving it to get their attention. His panic set in, but he managed to put his phone on speaker so they could hear.

"What do you want? Where's Teresa? Put her on the phone!"

The man on the other end of the phone laughed maniacally. "Well, I'm afraid she can't come to the phone right now. She's a bit...how should I say this?"

He could hardly breathe. Even knowing that he was fucking with him to intensify the terror, he couldn't help but react. "Say it. You've never had a problem with communication before."

The man laughed once again. "She's just a little unconscious. That's all. No need to worry. At least not yet."

"Not yet?"

"Mmmm her time will come. Tell me: how does it feel? I've got your girl. Again. I think we both know how this ends."

"Do we?"

"You're trying to be stoic. That's cute. I appreciate that, Patrick. It's refreshing to see a man be a man about a situation, especially as you try to uplift the spirits of Agents Minelli, Rigsby, Cho, and Van Pelt in Teresa's absence. I just want to be clear about this: everything that comes next, it's absolutely your fault."

"I didn't think you'd blame others for your crimes."

"I mean, you put this beautiful angel in harm's way like this. Why did you think this would be a good idea? Don't get me wrong: I can definitely see the appeal. She's very exquisite. You have fine taste, and I certainly thank you for this gift. I'm going to eat well tonight! I might even have something special for Teresa. Afterall, she took away my Lorelei."

"You never cared about her."

"That may be true, but she was mine to dispense of. She was so loyal until the end, even if she was a bit out there. Women, you know?" He laughed. "Oh that's right. You never hold onto one long enough to know."

"Don't hurt her."

"What's that, Patrick? Desperation? Fear? Not very manly of you, certainly not very con-manly of you. Where's the Patrick who knew me so well he could talk to me on national tv? Is he around?"

"I'm here. And I'm telling you not to touch her, you sick bastard."

"Every year on this date, when you go and cry at her grave and think about all that could've been, remember that it's not because of you. Just like you do for...oh, what were their names again? Charlize? Anna? Oh! Charlotte and Angela. Lovely girls they were. I'm glad I was able to meet them. Little ones usually aren't my thing, but it is what it is."

His hands shook as he gripped the phone. "You son of a bitch. I will never stop looking for you. I will kill you."

"No, you won't. Nor will you save Teresa. This I promise you. Well, I think this might be the last you hear from me. Be sure to take care now!"

The line went dead, and so did his spirit. He could hear the others saying words, but he couldn't hear them. Van Pelt grabbed his phone from his hand, and grabbed his wrist. She held onto it as she guided him into his bedroom. He couldn't speak, but he felt his face was wet as she handed him a towel.

"Jane, I don't care what he says. We're going to find her, and it's not your fault." She was always the conciliator, but now was not the time.

"Go. You have to go. Trace the call."

"It was from inside the hotel. Minelli called for backup. We're going to search the entire place."

"No, he won't let her live long enough for that. We have to find her now." He could hardly breathe.

"We're looking. The guys are looking right now. They left us here to man the center. Neither of us is...really in a shape to go searching the hotel for her." He nodded his head.

"I'll get it together." He had to. Finding Teresa was the only thing that mattered because Red John was right. It was always his fault.

A/N 2: I'm not sure if you noticed, but every chapter title since chapter 3 has been a song title that inspired the chapter. This is the first chapter to have two songs in the title: Mariah Carey's "Honey," and Queen's "Don't Stop Me Now." I went with two songs to show the chapter's tone change.

Phew! A lot happened in that chapter, I know. I wanted to explore Lisbon's own thoughts about where she's at but also explore some of her non-Jane relationships in this universe, especially with Minelli. I think he's very much the paternal figure she never had. And Red John had to reappear at some time, right? I *think* we have one more chapter left. Let's see what happens!