A/N: Here's the next chapter of the AU. I'm back to editing novels, so it may be a few days before you see chapter three. ~Calla

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Staring out of the window of the ferry, Lisbon couldn't believe she was doing this. But she was. The outline of the island grew more distinct with every passing hour. As her meeting with destiny grew more imminent, the awareness she might be making the biggest mistake of her life intensified. While she knew Jane was certifiable; she never thought she was. Well, maybe when Roy Carmen was drugging her, but that didn't count. Mind-altering substances aside, she'd been the stabilizing voice of reason in the perpetual sea of lunacy that was Patrick Jane for years. Maybe the demise of the CBI, and everything that followed, traumatized her more than she thought. Yeah, maybe undiagnosed PTSD influenced her recent choices. She'd know soon enough.

What she did know was that only an idiot, or a crazy man, would send a police chief round trip tickets to his tropical hide-away. Only an equally mentally deficient police chief would actually use those tickets. It didn't matter her policing domain was a Podunk town on the back side of hell somewhere in the Pacific Northwest. Or that the biggest crime she'd handled to date was arresting that ring of chicken poachers raiding vulnerable chicken coops throughout the county. She was still a sworn officer of the law.

Speaking of chicken thieves, much to her horror, that one made the front page of The Cannon River Express, and the nightly news, complete with a photograph of her embracing Sophie the prize-winning Banty hen. Shaking her head, Lisbon tried to forget how happy her constituents were that she'd caught the brothers terrorizing hen houses everywhere. Not exactly scintillating work; but what passed for serious crime in Cannon River. Watching a sea bird dive for a fish, she decided it was one thing to send her letters they both knew the FBI was monitoring. Inviting her to his lair was a deeper dimension of insanity. Nah, she knew better.

Jane would never send those tickets if safeguards weren't in place to protect both of them. She trusted him that far. Red John was dead. They weren't after a criminal. Not unless you counted him. So, Jane had no reason to destroy her life without just cause. Not according to his definition of just cause anyway. Not anymore. That didn't fit within the parameters of his code of honor. Yes, he had one, even if most people believed he didn't. Despite his checkered past, the Jane she knew was a good man.

Smirking at her convoluted reasoning, Lisbon wondered who she was trying to convince. She drank the Kool-Aid a long time ago. She knew that. You could take the girl away from Jane; but you couldn't take Jane away from the girl. Not really. She'd learned that the hard way. She never thought she'd hear from him again after that final phone call where he'd admitted it was done. There was no reason for him to endanger the escape he'd so carefully engineered. She wouldn't; but she wasn't Jane. She had friends, her job, and even her family when push came to shove. He had no one. Not even her. When that first letter came not long after she'd moved to Cannon River, she'd done her happy dance. While sporadic, and filled with useless small talk, she treasured those useless bits of fluff. Just knowing he was as mind-numbingly bored as she was, but otherwise okay, meant everything.

Walking outside, Lisbon stared over the horizon and said a silent prayer. While she'd do her best to keep the events of her vacation private, she was under no illusion she could. That she'd visited Jane would come out when she least expected it from where she least expected it. That was how the universe worked. She'd already made peace with that, and the potential fallout, as much as it was possible to do so. Hopefully, she wouldn't lose her job. However, she didn't doubt some of her cohorts in law enforcement might take issue with her visiting a wanted criminal, and a murderer at that. Whatever. It was Jane. He was no more a murderer than she was. He wouldn't have killed anyone if McAllister hadn't tried to kill him first. Self-defense. That was her story, and she was sticking to it. It didn't matter she knew differently in her heart-of-hearts. She did know Jane wouldn't have killed anyone if his family wasn't so viciously slaughtered first. Not in cold blood.

Exiting the ferry, Lisbon gravitated towards the handsome kid with the reddish cayenne flower pinned to his shirt pocket. Glancing at the gold necklace around his neck, she was reassured to read "Renaldo" in elegantly crafted script. This was her contact. The one who would instruct her on the next leg of her journey.

"Miss Lisbon?"

Lisbon nodded.

"Follow me."

Resisting the urge to ask where they were going, Lisbon reached down to remove her sandals before following him off the dock and onto the sand. Sandals she'd bought in Caracas along with the pretty sundress she was currently wearing. Her instructions were to bring as little as possible. That worked for her. It wasn't like she could find tropical wear in Washington State in the middle of winter. While she could have ordered everything she needed online, why make it easy for the feds if they were watching her?

"Mr. Jane left this for you." Renaldo handed her a sealed envelope. "Everything you need to know is in there."

"Okay." Taking the envelope and breaking the seal, Lisbon watched the young man walk away before turning her attention to the letter in her hand.

Hiking the fancy leather weekender left on her doorstep a couple of days ago higher on her shoulder, Lisbon ambled down to the water's edge. Closing her eyes, she savored the brush of the gentle breeze against her skin and the warmth of the sand between her toes. If she had to walk around the bend, she might as well enjoy the noisy caw of the sea birds and the lapping of the ocean against her ankles along the way.

Looking up a few minutes later, Lisbon noticed she was reaching her final destination faster than she expected. It looked much further down the beach than it actually was when she'd started. Stopping to let her feet dry and gather her thoughts, Lisbon realized she was clueless what she'd find around that curve. Steeling her nerves and wrapping herself in her infamous Lisbon courage, she forced herself to put one foot in front of the other knowing she would be far more comfortable traversing a dark alley with a gun in her hands than she was trudging through the sand.

Rounding the bend, she smiled softly at her first sight of the blonde figure she'd know anywhere waiting patiently in the sand...