A/N: Thank you all so much for your reviews! I treasure each one.

xxx

"Agent Bosco and his team are taking over the Red John case."

The second half of a one-two punch.

"Maybe since he saved your life, you're going easy on him."

Two hot spots of color bloomed on Lisbon's cheeks as she stood to greet Bosco, the sting of Minelli's words fresh and sharp.

Jane was having none of this. "What? No. No, no, no."

"You have always been way too close to this case, and now both of you are way too close. We need to make a change."

Lisbon couldn't believe Minelli was doing this, in front of Bosco, with no forewarning. "Can we talk about this?"

Minelli didn't even blink. "No. You've worked with Agent Bosco. You know he'll do the job right."

"You need to let my team finish what they started."

Bosco broke in. "Teresa, no offense, but you guys aren't even close to catching this guy. A fresh set of eyes gotta be a good idea."

Jane looked at Bosco like he was yesterday's soggy porridge. "What do you know about the case?"

"Not much. Serial killer, fifteen victims including your wife and child. I can imagine your pain." A long measuring look. "Maybe that pain is clouding your judgment."

Jane betrayed little. He glanced at Minelli, then gave Bosco a sardonic smile and left the room.

"And me, Sam?" Lisbon asked sharply. "What's clouding my judgment?"

Bosco didn't waver. "Good question. You tell me."

The implication was clear. Both of you are way too close. She looked back and forth between Minelli and Bosco, two men she respected and admired, who found her work wanting. Torn between shame and fury, she left.

"We're off Red John," she told the team when she got back to the bullpen. No point in sugar coating it. It would be all over the building before the morning was over. Better to rip off the band-aid quick and clean.

The team erupted into protests. "That's not fair—"

"What did he say—"

"—That's our case!"

Lisbon felt an incipient headache coming on. "Be quiet." She looked around at their faces, angry and frustrated, but still hopeful—hopeful that she was going to get the case back, that she wasn't going to let this stand.

Her shoulders slumped. "This is my fault." The bald, simple truth. She straightened her shoulders. "But this is a wake up call for all of us. We've grown slack and unprofessional. We need to earn back the trust we've lost. From now on, we work one hundred percent straight. No more shortcuts, no more games—"

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Jane walk or to his desk with two cardboard boxes and start to pack up the items on his desk.

She broke off mid-sentence and stared at him. "What are you doing?" Incredulously, "You're leaving?"

Jane glanced around at the team. "Well, frankly, if I can't use this job for some kind of personal revenge, there's not a lot here for me."

There it was. The one-two punch followed by a knockout blow.

Rigsby folded his arms. Cho looked at Jane, stone-faced.

"We're fighting evil and injustice," Grace protested.

"And how's that going lately?" His cold cynicism took Lisbon's breath away. "Any progress lately?"

"We put bad guys away where they can't hurt people anymore," Cho said flatly. "That's good enough."

"Eh," Jane said dismissively. "I was doing more good as a psychic. I was giving people hope. False hope, but hope nonetheless."

An icy calm settled over Lisbon. Of course he was leaving. Of course. "You're right. Best you leave. That way, you can go back to being a full-time fraud, and we can continue our useless jobs in peace."

"That's not actually what I said," Jane began. "I was talking more about myself—"

Van Pelt interrupted, phone in hand. She'd just answered a call from dispatch. "We're up. Twenty Palms."

"Let's go," Lisbon said, and turned on her heel.

She marched down to the parking lot, determined not to look back. So Jane was leaving. She should have known. It had always been a matter of time. Jane leaving was inevitable. Hadn't she told herself that a thousand times?

Would she even see him again? God knows what he might get up to without her to keep him out of trouble. Hole up in some isolated cabin in the woods and spend his days poring over every scrap of information they'd ever learned about Red John, thinking he could solve it all on his own with no help from anybody. He'd have unlimited time to obsess about it, just like he'd always wanted. Or maybe he'd just piss off the wrong person and get himself killed. Red John, some random thug—what difference would it make in the end? Her heart stuttered in her chest. If he got himself killed, she would never forgive him.

Lisbon, Van Pelt, and Rigsby piled into the van, leaving Cho to take the second car.

"Boss, no disrespect, but I think we need Jane," Rigsby said as Van Pelt fiddled with the controls from the driver's seat.

"We'll manage," Lisbon said shortly. They were the trained law enforcement officers, weren't they? Since when did cops need some know-it-all show off to get their work done? They'd closed cases before Jane came along, they'd continue to close them long after he'd left. With far less paperwork. "Maybe we won't close as many," she added grudgingly. "But the ones we do close, we close right. Like professionals." It should have sounded appealing. No more disappearing consultants, no political headaches. No more smoothing ruffled feathers. So why did the prospect of nothing but calm efficiency stretching out before her for years to come seem so bleak?

Van Pelt was still tinkering with the controls. Lisbon snapped at her, knowing she didn't deserve it. She just wanted to get going, to dive into the case so she wouldn't have to think about what it would mean to never see Jane again.

The van door opened and Jane climbed in.

So they were going to get a good-bye after all. How generous of him to deign to grace them with his presence for a few hours more. Lisbon returned her attention to her phone, determined not to give him the satisfaction of a reaction.

In response to the team's pointed silence, Jane said, "Well, I'm not going to leave you in the lurch. I'll do one more case."

"Do up your seatbelt," Lisbon told him, refusing to acknowledge his—whatever the hell this was.

He was perfectly infuriating at the crime scene. Lady Bullfrogs, indeed. Didn't want to leave them in the lurch, yeah, right. Determined to show off even more than usual, more like. He was leaving and he wanted to make sure they would miss him.

When Lisbon reluctantly acknowledged his lead made heading to Bayshore a sensible next step, he fell into step beside her as they walked back to the car. "Before we get on the freeway, it'd be good to take a little drive around the neighborhood. Be good to find an empty house for sale."

Lisbon frowned. "Why would that be good?"

"Oh, I'm thinking of moving here."

She was in no mood to tolerate his crap today. She stopped in front of the car and turned to face him. "No secrets, Jane. No lies, no tricks, no surprises. The truth."

Jane raised his eyebrows. "Since when is that the rule?"

"Since I said so."

"Or else what?"

"You're off the unit." He couldn't have it both ways. If he wanted to stick around, he could play by her rules, or he could get on with the business of leaving.

He hadn't expected her to change the board on him in the final round. Judging from his expression, he didn't like the reversal one bit. "That's not leverage," he argued. "This is my last case, remember? The only reason I'm still here is because I'm worried about how you guys will cope without me."

Of all the condescending—Lisbon's blood pressure started to rise. "Oh, really? So we're lost without you, are we?"

"Well—yeah, let's be honest here."

Fury boiled over. She slammed the back door of the van shut and climbed into the front passenger seat before he had a chance to blink. "Let's go," she ordered Van Pelt. "Drive."

She heard Jane calling them to wait, but she ignored him. Van Pelt knew better to countermand a direct order, even if she and Rigsby hadn't been almost annoyed at Jane as she was herself. Lost without him. Ha. She'd send Van Pelt to mentalist school and they wouldn't even miss him. Jackass.

Thanks to Rigsby's need to stop for fast food on any drive longer than ninety minutes, Cho and Jane caught up with them just when they got to Bayshore.

Jane corralled the team with a peace offering.

Lisbon peered at the little green basket. "Strawberries?" Only Jane would think fruit an adequate apology for insulting the capabilities of the entire team.

Jane only smiled. "Mm-hm."

Well—they did look really good. Farm-grown and perfectly ripe. She took one. It was delicious.

"See?" Jane prompted. "How good is that?"

"Good," she acknowledged, carefully neutral. If he thought this was going to buy him out of trouble—

She turned back to the team. "Cho, Rigsby, start canvassing the neighbors. Van Pelt, come with me." Jane could do whatever the hell he wanted.

They all started towards their new assignments. But before Lisbon had taken two steps, Jane caught her by the wrist. "Ah—Lisbon."

Van Pelt sent them a curious glance over her shoulder, but followed the other two, knowing better than to get in the middle of a dressing down between Jane and her boss.

Jane looked down at his shoes, then fixed his gaze somewhere over her left shoulder. "I'm sorry for what I said to you before," he said, his voice low. He met her eyes. "Can I please continue working with you?"

She violently suppressed the surge of relief that instantly coursed through her at these words. "I thought you were quitting," she challenged him.

"You know I didn't mean that."

She wanted to shake him. How the hell was she supposed to know he hadn't meant it? He sure acted like he'd meant it, damn him. "So the job is worthwhile after all, is it?"

"It's not that," Jane said, unwilling to admit so much. "It's not that at all. It's just—I have nothing else to do."

This, which should have sounded like the most patronizing statement of all, came out flat and drawn. He met her gaze, letting her see himself for once. The quiet desolation at the thought of all those empty hours to fill. An unbearable burden.

Her heart went out to him. Poor Jane. Inwardly, she caved immediately. But still—she might as well lay a few things on the line while she had this opportunity. "No jokes," she said sternly. "From now on, there have to be boundaries."

"Agreed," Jane said, with suspicious gravity.

"I need to know that you can do your work and be effective without creating a mess I have to clean up."

"No mess. I swear."

She didn't hold out much hope for this, but she'd settle for less mess, at least. She let out a breath. Okay, that hadn't been too bad. She'd remained calm, professional. She'd laid out her terms, and he'd agreed to them. He was staying. She drew herself up. "On that basis, you can remain with the unit."

Jane beamed. "Thank you."

Before she knew what was happening, he had her by the wrist again.

"What—?" she began, but before she could form the question, he drew her two quick steps to the right, behind the van, and kissed her, still holding the basket of strawberries in his other hand.

Lisbon shoved him away from her. "What the hell, Jane?" she spluttered. "We're working." Without waiting for an answer, she snatched the basket of strawberries from him and stormed away, grumbling to herself and scarfing strawberries to try to wash the taste of him out of her mouth.

It was absolutely infuriating how good he tasted with strawberries fresh on his tongue.

xxx

When they closed the case, Lisbon sent the team home and holed up in her office to prep for a deposition she had the following week.

Jane turned up in her doorway around eight, bearing Chinese food. It smelled divine. Her stomach growled. "What have you got there?"

He laid out the feast before her. "Mongolian beef, lo mein, Kung Pao chicken, and crab Rangoon."

"Mm, I like it when your apologies come in food shape," she said, reaching for the crab Rangoon.

"Yes, well," Jane said, heaping Kung Pao chicken onto her plate. "I suppose I was a bit of an ass."

Lisbon snorted. "I'll say."

"So—you've worked with Bosco before," Jane said expectantly.

"Ah," Lisbon said. "This isn't apology food. It's to soften me up so I'll give you dirt on Bosco."

Jane shrugged. "Who says it can't be both?"

"Forget it. I'm not going to give you anything you can use against him as leverage."

"Minelli said you worked together before," Jane said, undeterred.

"Yes," Lisbon said, determined not to give him anything to work with.

"In San Francisco?"

"That's right."

"How closely did you work together?" Jane pressed. "Did you know him well?"

"He was my supervising officer," Lisbon said reluctantly. "We worked on the same team. I learned a lot from him. He's a good cop, Jane. You don't need to worry. He'll do the job right."

Jane ignored this. "He's married. Kids?"

"Two boys," Lisbon confirmed. "Nine and thirteen."

"Hm, you have genuine respect and affection for the man, but you also have a certain wariness towards him," Jane mused. "What's that about?"

Lisbon sighed. "Can we please change the subject? Or at least just enjoy our dinner in peace? I don't enjoy being interrogated over a meal. And please—" she said, putting up a hand to forestall him. "Spare me your analysis of his personality based on spending less than twenty minutes with him. I don't need to hear it."

Jane was quiet for a moment. "I don't think your job is useless, Lisbon," he said finally. "You save people."

"You help," Lisbon said, just as quietly.

"Meh," Jane said, dismissive.

"If you did quit—would you—" she fought to keep her voice steady, but the tiniest waver crept in. "Would you have said a proper good-bye to the team, at least?"

He looked at her sharply. "If I did quit," he said. "Naturally I would still want to use you for any tidbits I could glean about the Red John case."

Lisbon relaxed. "Of course. Far easier to pester me for second-hand intel than getting that information directly from someone on Bosco's team."

"Your team already knows me. It would be much easier to exploit the trust I've built up with you all over the years than to ingratiate myself with new people."

Like Jane couldn't have charmed anyone he liked into compliance with his wishes in the space of a week. Well, okay, maybe not Bosco. "Very sensible," she said, her heart ten times lighter. "You're quite the master strategist, aren't you?"

"You'd better believe it," he said, holding her gaze with an intensity that had nothing to do with sense or strategy.

"Do you want to come over to my place later?" Lisbon blurted out.

The veil dropped immediately. "You know we can't do that," he said shortly.

A crushing wave of disappointment and humiliation crashed over her. "We're not on the Red John case anymore," she said, trying to cover the sting of rejection with calm rationality. "I thought—"

Jane shook his head. "Do you think that matters to him?"

"Fine," Lisbon said tersely. "Forget it. It was just a thought."

No doubt seeing every cursed emotion roiling through her on her 'translucent' face, Jane mercifully did not comment. He held out a carton to her. "Do you want the last of the crab Rangoon?"

She took it from him and took vicious satisfaction in denying him a single bite.

When she announced half an hour later that she was going to head home, Jane said, "I'll walk you out."

He waited patiently for her to gather her things, but when they got to the elevators and she pushed the button to go down, he said suddenly, "I feel like taking the stairs."

Lisbon grumbled a bit—it had been a long day and she did not feel like climbing down six flights of stairs. But feeling vaguely as though she ought to encourage any inclination Jane had towards anything remotely resembling physical exercise, she agreed.

Jane kept up a steady stream of chatter on the way downstairs. Lisbon, her mind divided equally between the paperwork she had to finish tomorrow and the realization that Tommy's birthday was coming up and that she needed to get his present in the mail by Tuesday if it was going to make it on time, was taken aback when Jane abruptly stopped on the stair below her on the second floor landing, turned, and kissed her fiercely.

Three frantic minutes later, both a little disheveled, Jane sagging against the wall with his hands on her hips, he leaned his forehead against hers and said, very low, "I'd like nothing better."

Lisbon, belatedly remembering that Jane had pointed out this particular part of the stairwell to Minelli as a blind spot in the CBI's security camera system, realized he was answering her ill-considered invitation from earlier in the evening.

He still wasn't going to come over.

But the fact that he'd like to made all the difference in the world.