A/N: Thank you all for reading and reviewing! Let's just say your responses to the last chapter really got me moving to post this one! No pitchforks please! Here are some warnings: (1) this chapter contains graphic language and depictions of graphic violence, and (2) it ends in a cliff hanger. If you really hate cliff hangers, feel free to wait until chapter 19 is posted to read them together. They were initially meant to be one chapter, but it was too long.

xxxx Lisbon POV xxxx

She awoke in a very soft bed, underneath a very cozy comforter. She wasn't sure she wanted to wake up, but the sun shining brightly in through the bedroom window told a different story.

"Coffee for one Mrs. Patrick Jane." Patrick knew she loved coffee, especially coffee that was brought to her in bed. Talk about one of the greatest joys in life!

She laughed. "You're so funny. Thank you!"

"It's my pleasure. Anything I can do for my better half."

As she held her coffee in both hands, she looked at him and deadpanned. "You could try picking up your socks immediately after you take them off some time."

He whistled. "Oh, let's not get crazy."

She laughed just as they both registered a rather loud noise in the living room and a wail that sounded an awful lot like an infant. Suddenly, two small children with dark brown hair burst in through the door. "Mama, Phoenix hit me."

She paused for a moment. For the life of her, she couldn't remember having children, especially not ones with tell tale Lisbon eyes and Jane curls. She shrugged that thought off before she looked over at the little boy. "Phoenix, you can't hit your sister. You know better."

"She threw the remote at me!"

"Gracie!"

"'Twins are a blessing' they said." She playfully slugged him in the chest, rolling her eyes at him. He was never the most mature in handling these situations with the kids.

"You just hit daddy." Clearly, their daughter took after the Jane side: intent on never following the rules and interested only in exploring every possible exception to them.

"Ok, and that's different."

"Is it though?" He was grinning from ear to ear. He'd told her as much before, but he loved watching her work.

She looked at him pointedly. "Not helpful." Even though she wanted to laugh, she had to be stern in this moment. "Mommy and daddy have a different relationship. We've told you not to hit or throw things at each other. This is how you lose tv privileges for the week."

"Mom!" Both of the children, in unison, started to plead their case.

Another little girl with her dark brown hair and her father's curls came running into their room. "Mama, I think the baby wants to play." As she spoke, the little baby boy in a blue onesie covered in airplanes reached out for her. She took the blond haired baby into her arms. The only one to inherit his father's light hair.

"Maddie, I'm sure Sam wants in on all of the Jane family shenanigans, too. It was nice of you to get him out of his crib." The little girl jumped in bed next to her mother as her baby boy grabbed a fist full of her hair. The other two children joined them in bed to play with the baby, as Patrick looked at her and smiled. He was practically glowing as he had one hand wrapped behind her lower back and held his tea cup in the other.

He sat the cup down before his smile was replaced with a grim look on his face. "You have to wake up now, Teresa."

She blinked rapidly. "What?"

The children who were just in her bed moments ago were gone now and the cream colored walls were fading from her view. There was no baby boy fisting her hair as Patrick reached in and placed his hand on her jaw, caressing her cheek with his thumb and those blue eyes piercing her soul. "Wake up and fight. Fight for us."

He started to fade away before her eyes. "Patrick, wait!"

She gasped as she awoke on the cold hard floor with his name but a whisper on her lips. Her eyes felt like lead, so she closed them again. It took her a moment to remember the fight. She likely had a concussion. She braced herself as she re-opened her eyes. Taking in the room around her, she realized that she was in some sort of dimly lit dining room of some sort. It was nothing like the dream she just had. She wished she were back there.

She heard a man laughing from her side. "Welcome back, little lamb."

"Little lamb?" Of course, she was terrified beyond belief. How could she not be? In typical Lisbon fashion, though, she managed to swallow her fear and show only her bravest front. "What does that even mean?"

"Well, the big bad wolf has himself a little lamb." As he moved closer into her field of distorted vision, she could see him. She'd know that creepy, bald headed son of a bitch from anywhere.

"Gale Bertram is the big bad wolf? Wow. Original. Groundbreaking."

Once again, he laughed as he leaned in closer to her. "Well, I can tell I'm going to enjoy that sweet little mouth of yours. I can't wait to put it to use."

She recoiled a bit. Red John never did more than maybe torture his victims with rather basic methods like stabbing them in places that would make the victim take longer to bleed out, so she wasn't sure what he was playing at. "Is the big bad wolf Red John?"

He leaned away. "Oh, heavens no! Not my taste, I'm afraid."

Red John wouldn't deny being Red John if confronted in these circumstances. She knitted her eyebrows. "You're not Red John?"

"Honey, I'm a lover, not a killer. But I can't control what happens when I'm not around or when someone really tests my patience. You know, he doesn't usually let me play with his food, but you're a special case for some reason or another." He shrugged.

"So what's your plan?"

He reached for her hair. When she pulled away from his touch, he grabbed a handful and yanked it, causing her to yelp in pain. "Now, let's not make too much noise."

Not wanting to make too much noise indicated that they weren't completely isolated. Good.

"Get up." He grabbed her by arm and roughly pulled her up out of the floor.

"Not much of a lover's touch there, Gale."

He smirked. "If you only knew. Sit down." He prompted her to sit in a chair at a table that held what looked to be a candlelit dinner.

"Oh, you didn't have to do all of this for me."

"I find it's ambiance really sets the mood."

She didn't respond as she sat quietly, not moving. To him, it likely appeared that she was being passive. In reality, she was looking to see what she could turn into a weapon to get the hell out of here-wherever here was.

"Eat, Teresa. I've planned dinner just for you. This entire Chicago deep dish pizza isn't going to eat itself."

She scoffed. "That's not deep dish, and I doubt that it counts as pizza. Besides, I'm watching my figure. I have to wear a fitted dress tomorrow for a pageant."

"Don't worry. I doubt you will be making it to the pageant. Though, I'm sorry because it seems like you were doing well in the competition." He grabbed a slice and took a bite. "See, it's not poisoned, if that's what you're worried about. May as well enjoy yourself while you can."

She knitted her eyebrows. "Yeah, Gale, I'm still unclear on what your idea of fun is. If you're not Red John, what exactly is your function here?"

"Oh. That's easy. I have a certain skill set that he needs to borrow some times. I procure the girls for him." He smiled at her like he just revealed he'd found the cure to cancer or something. As his eyes beamed with sadistic intent, he continued. "Well, usually for me. As you can tell, I've got a knack for it and it does bring me quite a bit of joy. Though, I must admit I've never had an FBI agent before."

"What do you mean you've never had an FBI agent before?"

"Do you need me to spell it out for you? I wouldn't want you to get over-excited. Well, unless of course you're into that sort of thing. Now, eat your food. Or don't, I guess. I wouldn't squander my last meal if someone went through the effort to get me some comfort food."

No, she did not need him to spell it out for her. She just had not planned to have two sociopaths in the mix, especially when one of them had yet to reveal himself. For not the first time, the thought of throwing hot candle wax into his eye crossed her mind. As she sat silently, with her arms folded into her lap, she noticed the door to the dining room open and close.

"Mr. Bertram? I got your message. You wanted to see me?" Marcus. Was he...was he Red John? His voice indicated that he was surprised to find her there. "Gracie! I didn't see you there. I hope I'm not interrupting."

She made eye contact with the younger man and shook her head no as Bertram spoke. "Well, you are interrupting, Marcus. But I did tell you to come find me." That tone definitely made him seem like an interloper, not the friend that the bald man had professed was his friend.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I just assumed you were alone. I can come back later."

The man smiled and waved his left hand. She noticed his right hand was placed firmly in his lap, and she'd bet money on what he most likely held in that lap. There was no way he expected to assert control over her empty handed. She may be a woman, but he had to know that she was still a trained FBI agent. "It's ok. Don't be. I told you to come find me. I had hoped you'd take a bit longer to get here, but I guess we can get this tied up sooner rather than later."

Oh God. She dropped her jaw as the realization hit her like a ton of bricks. Marcus was not Red John, but he was definitely meant to be his second victim tonight.

"Ok, but are you sure? I don't want to interrupt anything here. I can come back later."

"No, come and have a seat. He's not interrupting anything is he, Gracie?" He winked at her. To Marcus, it probably looked like a thing lovers do. To her, it was a clear message to go along with this or else.

She smiled grimly at her captor. "I guess not. We have plenty of food."

"Ok, I guess." The younger man seemed a bit unsure of why he was being asked to sit. What she wouldn't give to be that naive right about now. She heard laughter coming from another part of the dining room.

"You can come join us, too."

"I know, but I just get a kick out of watching this." Son of a bitch. Of course he'd been here the whole time, observing the situation.

He came into her field of vision, but she knew before she saw him. Before her stood Thomas McAllister, or as she knew him, Red John.

Marcus looked at her. "Wow, I guess it's hard to have a quiet dinner around here!" He raised his eyebrows as he caught a glimpse of her face up close for the first time since entering the dining room.

"Wow. Gracie, are you ok? Did you have some kind of accident?"

"You can call it an accident, but I'm sure Gale had more to do with that." She grimaced, while McAllister laughed at his own sick joke not unlike when Haffner would laugh at his own jokes. Bertram was so pleased with himself. If she hadn't already known, she would definitely know now that Marcus wasn't in on this as his eyes stilled at the comment and his face turned to disgust.

He looked to both of the men and then back at her. "What's going on here?"

"Do you want to tell him...Gracie? Let him in on the secret? I think he's the only one in the room who doesn't know. But before you do that, Gale, I need a word with you."

The other man swallowed before responding. "Yeah, sure…." Before she had time to react, McAllister pulled a gun from his waistband and shot Bertram in the head at point blank range. Some of Bertram's blood had blown back onto her and Marcus, which made the man laugh.

She jumped, not expecting the sudden gun shot. Their theories on Red John being a fast mover had not been wrong. Marcus got up as Bertram slumped over, she noticed his right hand fall to the side of the table, gun in hand.

"That's for not following directions. Sit down, boy! Here, let me help you." He shot Marcus in the belly as he screamed and fell down into the chair. "Oh, hush. That's just a little old flesh wound! Now, Gracie-or should I call you Teresa? Teresa, tell Marcus why he's here. I know you've figured it out by now."

She turned to Marcus, pressing as many cloth napkins to his gunshot wound as she could gather from the table out of habit. He was clearly in distress and in pain. "Here, you need to press these on the wound to slow the bleeding."

"I didn't say play nursemaid. I told you to tell him why he's here. Though, that is very sweet of you to try to make him feel better."

As the gunshot wound to his abdomen wasn't enough to clue him in, his insistence that she tell Marcus his plans was simply cruel. He wanted to see their reactions. This part was his bread and butter. She grimaced as she said the words. "Mr. McAllister is going to kill us."

He let out a sinister laugh. "That's absolutely right, darling. Now, I know you know more about my methods more than most. I have to say: there's not much in the way of surprise when someone knows what your preferences are. Don't worry: I will come up with something. I'm not like that fucking creep over there. I'll even let you in on a little secret. I told him if he grabbed you for me, that he could have a treat-but I was never going to let him get that far. Frankly, he disgusted me. There are much more sophisticated ways to create terror. He was just...boring and medieval."

"We all know that you don't do boring."

"No, I don't. My one instruction, though, was that he not maim you in any way. And well, he damaged the merchandise." He reached over and swept a strand of hair behind her ear.

"You don't have to kill Marcus. You didn't even have to bring him into this."

"You and I both know he was as good as dead when he walked in that door." Marcus groaned from where he sat bleeding. Like McAllister said, it did appear to just be a flesh wound. In other circumstances, she would be sure he would survive it.

"No, Bertram said he was going to tie up loose ends later. He was always a part of this plan. I imagine you always planned to kill Bertram and probably frame him up as Red John." The man nodded at her words. "But you'd rather he think his wounds are because he tried to help a woman, especially a pageant contestant. You hate the contestants right about now, don't you?"

Once again, McAllister smiled at her. "And why's that?"

"I don't know. One too many complaints about inappropriate behavior and the Board of Directors wants to replace you with Marcus, a younger man who's kinder to look upon without all of the skeletons and liabilities in his closet?" His smile fell at that. She'd hit the nail on the head-which wasn't always a good thing when the guy intent on killing you currently had the upper hand.

"Wow. You are good. I'm sure the FBI will find you hard to replace. Tell me: would you like being replaced with your younger model?"

She shook her head. "If it was time for me to go, sure."

"I doubt that's true. You wouldn't even let someone replace you on this case."

She thought of her old friend and mentor then. He wanted her to think of Sam and the team of agents he killed. "No, you wouldn't let someone replace me on this case. Why is that?"

"Oh, now, don't flatter yourself too much. It's not you; it's Jane. If he's not wrecking his brain trying to find me, what kind of fun is that? No, if your friend Sam Bosco had played by the rules, he and his team might still be alive today."

"What rules?"

"The ones that say Jane gets to suffer for as long as he lives. Believe me: nothing hurt him more than watching you hurt. That fed me for weeks, and I can only imagine what this will do."

She could sense he was definitely trying to get a rise out of her, to make her react. Any reaction would simply fuel him. Instead, she would change the topic. "Why do you kill?"

"Because I like it."

"Well, a lot of people like many things. What is it that makes you take pleasure in killing and causing terror?"

He pondered her question for a moment before taking the seat to her left. Jane was right; he liked to talk. "It's just always felt right to hold that power over someone and to be able to decide the exact moment when the lights are out."

She had to school her face so as not to react in disgust. "So it's a God complex?"

He laughed. "Oh come on now. Hasn't your precious boy toy dispelled any notions of God from you?"

"Do you mean Jane?" She wouldn't confirm that Jane was anything but her consultant. Anything she gave him now he would use against her...and against Jane if she didn't make it. "No, he hasn't. He doesn't believe in spirituality for a number of reasons. I don't think you do either-but like him, you like pulling the strings. You like to orchestrate. For you, I think you like to play God even if you don't believe there is a God."

He nodded along. "Interesting. So you think I like playing a role I don't even believe exists?"

"You like to exercise a power to give life or to bring death, even over dinner. You tell me."

"Sure. It's a power I get to exercise, but for me, it's a lot more about the control. I get to control their emotions, and in just a moment, I can decide whether to end them forever or let the despair continue."

"I think that's semantics. You embrace your complex while wrapping it in whatever you can. Surely, it's all because someone in your life wronged you one too many times. Now, you enjoy watching others in any kind of pain you can cause."

"Teresa, you are a fascinating woman. I can see what it is that he sees in you. Well, obviously you're beautiful, and if I had the time, I personally wouldn't mind bending you over a few times." Still playing it cool, she scoffed at that as he continued. Really, she was ready to vomit, which is probably what he wanted. "But it's more than that. You're not just an amusement; you touch his intellect."

"Thank you, I think?"

"What? You don't believe me?"

"I doubt I touch him in any kind of way." She knew that wasn't true, but he didn't need to know that.

"So you're not in a relationship with him? I didn't see you all dolled up coming back inside the other night? He doesn't follow you around like you're a bitch in heat?"

She glared at him. "I am his way to finding you, and he's my way to finding you. We work well together. That's what it's always been."

"Now, you're lying to both of us. More on that in a moment. That's not what I meant. If given the time, I could charm you into my bed just like your friend Lorelei."

"Now, I think you're the one lying to both of us."

"If Patrick could get there, I know for sure I could."

She scrunched her face into a smile. "Really? What do you think we'd do? Would you take me to a restaurant as nice as this one? I've never been an uptown, penthouse kinda girl. But man, does it feel nice to roll in luxury every once in a while!"

"Sweetheart, I'd take you anywhere you wanted to go. I've got to know though: what's it like? You enjoy getting fucked by that sad, sad man? I know you could do so much better."

She whistled. "Who said there was any fucking? If there was, who said he was the one doing it? And why does the topic of whose bed my boots have been under interest you so much?"

He chuckled. "That's cute. Really. Years of pageant gossip have made me a bit soft, I guess. I'm also genuinely curious. He's too wounded to be a good lover. I'd know that more than anyone." No, he wouldn't know that. "You know, you don't deserve to die for him."

"Oh good. So you've changed your mind? You'll be letting us go?"

"Oh definitely not, sweetheart. But I just wanted you to know that in the end, you deserved better. And you didn't have it. Once again, Patrick Jane failed to hold onto the woman he loves." He leaned back and smiled grimly at her.

xxxx Van Pelt POV xxxx

Hearing Red John's voice on the phone stunned her. Thankfully, she'd always been quick on her feet and was able to immediately initiate the trace even though it gave her nothing. As she ran the trace and got their comms ready to go, Cho organized the team into a search and Minelli recalled Wainwright and the other remaining agents to the hotel. They'd briefly considered calling in local law enforcement, but Cho killed that idea out of worry that too much of a presence could spook Red John while not enough could also spook him.

Of course, this was all done as Jane was frozen in the center of the room. She couldn't imagine what hearing that phone call was like for him. He was in a state of complete shock as he stood frozen with tears on his face. She'd never seen him like that before. Usually, he was the poster boy for proactivity, but this was different. She knew that. It took all she had to hold out hope that her boss and friend would make it out of this.

While the rest of the team left and started searching, she was appointed to stay behind at the command center. She knew the technology best and could help guide their search as necessary. Her current condition also prohibited her from being anywhere in the vicinity of a hot pursuit. Jane was in such shock that once she was able to break through to him, he hadn't even realized the rest of the team had already gone.

"Jane, isn't she wearing her bracelet?" For the first time, he looked up into her eyes as he nodded his head.

"Let's see what we can hear."

"I need to get out there."

"No. I need you to help listen for Lisbon. If she starts talking and sends a message, it would be for you. You're needed here." He nodded along again. For what it was worth, she hadn't lied about any messages Lisbon might send. She'd definitely be talking to Jane. Though, she was also sure he would disappear as soon as he had his wits about him again and realized he could hear Lisbon's message from anywhere. It just wouldn't do to have him wandering around in this dazed state.

They spent some time sitting in silence, waiting. For all they knew, this could be a fool's errand. Maybe Red John figured the bracelet was a listening device and trashed it. It wouldn't be the first time he'd been two steps ahead of them. Maybe she still had it, maybe she didn't. Hopefully, they could figure that out soon.

There was a knock on the door. As Jane sat still, intently awaiting anything Lisbon might say, she answered the door to find Kim, Erica, and Michelle standing outside. She promptly ushered them inside.

She looked to Kim. "What are you guys doing here?"

"One second. Cell phones. I need your cell phones now." Both women handed them over. Michelle was incredibly confused, but Erica looked like she was used to this by now. She promptly ripped at the SIM cards, threw the phones to the ground, and smashed them with her heel.

Michelle gasped as Erica rolled her eyes. "Guys, what's going on?"

"I promised I'd explain when we got somewhere safe. Well, here we are. Gracie is in trouble."

The young woman raised her eyebrows. "So you had to break our cell phones?"

Kim sighed. "Michelle, what I'm about to tell you cannot be repeated. I broke your cell phone for your own safety. We will get you a replacement as soon as possible."

"Who's we?"

"I'm a federal agent, Michelle. So is Gracie. She is missing."

Michelle and Erica spoke in unison. "Oh my God!" "She's a fed, too?"

Michelle turned directly to face Erica, her ponytail whipping from side to side. "Wait. You knew that Kim is a federal agent?"

Erica looked toward Kim, who nodded her blessing for the woman to continue. "I did...she's here protecting me."

Michelle frowned. "Protecting you from what?"

Kim intervened. "Listen, Michelle. She can't tell you that. She can't tell anyone that. Not even...I'm sorry what's your name?"

"Van Pelt. Grace Van Pelt."

"Not even Agent Van Pelt can know that. When I told Erica there was trouble and we had to move, she insisted that you be brought along with us. After last night, I was inclined to agree."

The young woman nodded, processing this new information. Admittedly, it had to be a lot to take in. "Do you think we're in danger?"

Kim looked at her. Truthfully, neither woman could answer that question in good faith. Red John was a dangerous son of a bitch. "It's doubtful that you're in danger. Agent Lisbon-or as you know her, Gracie-is the primary target. But Kim, you knew that? Why did you bring them here?"

"To put her mind at ease that her charge was protected so she could join the search." From across the room, Jane finally spoke.

Kim nodded. "It's true. I got permission to join the search. Anything you need, I'm here for."

"It's great to have you on board. Do you have a service weapon?" She noticed Kim patted her bag. "Ok, good. Right now, we are listening to the wire attached to a listening device Lisbon was wearing. We don't know if it's still active or even on her. The rest of our team is out actively canvassing the hotel. We also have a few more agents coming to aid in the search. We're keeping the search as minimal as possible. He will expect us to search for her, but we're concerned too many cops on the ground might spook him."

"Have you reviewed the video camera footage?"

Grace shook her head. "I wasn't able to get patched in this morning. It's like I kept getting kicked."

"I might be able to help with that. Do you have an extra laptop?" She waved Kim over and they quickly got to work. She was surprised by how easily Erica and Michelle seemed to take this in stride. They sat on the sofa, hand in hand, as they worked on finding Lisbon. Whether they knew Lisbon, they cared a lot about Gracie.

About 45 minutes into their silence, their gamble paid off when they heard some soft moans on the other end of the wire, followed by "Patrick" at an almost whisper. That certainly snapped Jane from his reverie.

Kim dropped her laptop in front of Grace as she and Jane listened in for anything more Lisbon might say-if she could say anything. Grace looked at the laptop, watching footage of a large, bald white male attacking Lisbon in the hall. She closed her eyes briefly before re-opening them. She hated to see her friend hurt, but she needed to watch for anything helpful. The large man swooped her into his arms and walked out of the view of the camera.

"I'm fairly certain that's Gale Bertram. How quickly can you get a search warrant?"

"I can call it into my boss. I doubt we need a warrant. Exigent circumstances."

Kim nodded. "If we both agree that looks like Gale Bertram assaulting and kidnapping a missing federal agent, I can go toss his room. See what I can find."

"You won't find anything there. What else is on the video?" She hadn't realized that Jane was also watching the video too. He seemed to be listening intently for Lisbon's words and zoning out everything else.

"It cuts out. It's definitely been tampered with."

"Like he wanted you to see that part?"

Grace met Kim's eyes. "Is this something that Red John does?"

"He likes to paint the story he wants to tell."

"He wanted you to see Bertram grabbing Lisbon. Why?"

Kim responded. "Bertram isn't Red John."

"No...but that gives me a really good idea of who is." Jane started to stand up as she put her hand out to keep him seated.

"Listen, she's talking again! Who's that with her?" Soon, they learned it was Gale Bertram.

"He's not Red John. It's McAllister. She knew it was one of them."

"Jane, we have no proof of that. Even if he is, we need to listen to see what we can hear. Lisbon is highly trained, she will give us information."

Bertram's words were vulgar. He literally thought he could feed a woman, and then, casually talk about those things. As he spoke, she put out a search for any unsolved kidnappings and sexual assaults. Surely, Jane and Lisbon would help narrow the parameters, but from this guy's own words, she could tell he was dirty. They just hadn't turned it up yet. Like Jane had told them, that was the problem with background checks: they only turn up things people had already been caught doing.

But then Marcus Pike showed up. Was he in on this? Was he meant to be a part of the game? It didn't take long to realize Jane was right: McAllister was Red John. She sent a message to her team letting them know they'd positively identified McAllister as Red John. Lisbon held it together much better than she could-but then, there were the gunshots. The gunshots shook them all, but they could still hear Marcus' groans. He was still alive, but Bertram was not, and Lisbon was still talking to Red John.

Listening in on this conversation at this dinner party from hell was surreal-at best. She wanted to call Rigsby and Cho to let them know what was going on, play by play. She was afraid that calling them could only prove to be a distraction, especially if they were anywhere near Lisbon. They needed more information to go on to help find her. Hopefully, she was in a position to give them what they needed.

Her conversation with McAllister was nothing short of bizarre. He was baiting her, especially with the part about wooing her, but she wasn't taking the bait. As she noticed a huskiness in Lisbon's voice at several different points, she realized her friend was flirting with Red John. She looked at Jane for his reaction. His face was completely pale.

"She's just playing the part and keeping him talking. He'll want to tell her all about himself and see how she reacts to things. The more time he spends exploring her psyche and trying to show her how good he is at what he does, the less he spends hurting her or Marcus." She nodded.

"Why does she keep mentioning food?" Deciding not to toss Bertram's room on account of him being recently deceased and not Red John, Kim had determined it would be best for her to stay nearby in case she did need to be somewhere in a hurry. She put on an extra set of headphones and listened in to this conversation. Her question definitely caught Jane's attention.

"Grace, where are the maps?" She got up and got the venue's maps from where Cho and Rigsby had left them.

"Here. What are we looking for?" She spread them out on the table as Kim continued listening while they looked at the maps.

"Any areas for food preparation that might be heavily populated? Something upscale? She mentioned not being fancy or an uptown penthouse kind of girl. He would have her somewhere secluded...or nearly secluded."

"Um, excuse me." Erica came over to where they were working. "Did you say a secluded penthouse?"

All three of them stared at the brunette. Kim spoke to her charge. "What do you have, Erica?"

"Lorelei used to meet her boyfriend up on the 27th floor for dinner. She said it was the nicest, best hidden romantic spot. It was an old restaurant, but he'd have food ordered in and they'd eat in the dining room."

She looked over the map as her finger landed right on the spot. Of course, there it was. An abandoned restaurant on the 27th floor. "Ok, I'm going."

"Jane, wait! I'm going to call it in, but you can't go alone."

"And you can't go with me. Lisbon would have both of our heads if I put you and the baby in harm's way. I've got to go. Tell Cho and Rigsby to meet me."

Before she could respond, Kim intervened. "Don't worry. I'm going with him. Can they stay with you?"

"Uh, yeah. I got this. Go. Please go. I'm calling it in now." Jane and Kim ran out of the door, as she heard more shouts, gunshots, and grunts over the wire, followed by labored breathing. Everything happened so quickly that she couldn't tell what was going on. "Oh God."

"Agent Van Pelt, is everything ok?" Erica and Michelle were both looking at her in concern.

"Honestly, I don't know. I...I've got to get my team on the phone."

When Rigsby didn't pick up on the first ring, she was immediately impatient. "Come on, come on. Pick up the damn phone, Wayne!" He answered on the third ring. "Get to the 27th floor now. There's a restaurant or some type of food place up there. It's secluded. McAllister is with her. Marcus Pike is there and also injured. He's friendly as far as we can tell. We just heard gunshots, but I cannot tell what's going on. She could be hurt. Jane and Fischer are on their way up there now. I think...I think Lisbon's been shot. I can't tell everything just happened so quickly. I can't hear anything right now. Hurry! Please hurry!" She could feel the wetness on her face as her own panic grew.

She heard Rigsby shout. "Guys, 27th floor. Gunshots. We've got to move now." She said a silent prayer that everything would be alright. She continued to listen to the labored breathing. If Teresa Lisbon were to take her last breath today, she wouldn't take it alone. She deserved that much.

A/N 2: Spoiler alert: I may love sitting in the darkness, but I am also a romantic ;)