A/N: Grr! I couldn't go to work today because they left early and didn't tell me. Argh. Oh well... I've got a tiny thing I can do now, which takes an hour or so... so yes, I've put it off slightly to update this first. YAY.

Thanks to: Divinia Serit, MentalistLover, UnbreakBroken, mtm, lisbon69, Ebony10, Jadestar1981, yaba, lil smiles, HOUSEMDFanForever, macisgate, Frogster and cureless for reviewing part five. It's wonderful to get feedback from you all.

x tromana


Part Six - State of Play

She rose a hand briefly, contemplating slapping him to try and break his trance-like state. Instead, she finds herself distracted by an incessant knocking at the front door. Without bothering to ask Jane if he wanted to get it, she rises to her feet and answers it herself. Lisbon slowly allows the breath she's been holding out and the tension, a tight knot buried deep inside her chest, loosens somewhat as the door swings open, revealing her team.

Their presence simply helps her to know where she stands. It's time to do her job instead of worrying quite so much about Jane.

Quietly, they filter in one by one and Lisbon immediately sends Van Pelt to sit with Jane. He's still catatonic and the red head already vaguely knows the status quo whereas the two men are still pretty much oblivious. Wordlessly, she invites them upstairs and along with the coroner, invites them into Jane's master bedroom.

"That's Jane's daughter," she states without explanation.

"But Jane's daughter is dead. She died seven years ago."

It's Rigsby who points out the obvious, just as she expects him to. Normally, in this kind of situation, Lisbon would sigh and roll her eyes, but in reality the situation is bemusing. She's still trying to get her head around it herself, after all so she finds it easy to forgive Rigsby's utter confusion. A few extra words and they're all nodding, understanding and slightly horrified at the situation.

In fact, they're lost for words, something which makes Lisbon feel a little uncomfortable.

She just wants them to do their jobs too. She needs them to do so.

It's Cho who breaks out of his reverie and acts with some semblance of normality first, scanning the scene eagerly, trying to see if Red John has left any clue. If for once, he's made a simple mistake that completely changes the state of play. They know it's all in vain really as realistically, the notorious murderer hasn't made a mistake since his 'early' days.

Though, in saying that, his murders are becoming more and more elaborate each and every time he makes an appearance. And cockiness can lead to arrogance and arrogance can lead to oversights, which can subsequently lead to mistakes. Red John, though he has a terrifying stranglehold on California, is still only human, regardless of what he sees himself as now. Even he cannot be above human error all the time, can he?

Lisbon jumps as the door swings open, crashing loudly against the wall it is adjoined to. Spinning around, she spots Jane by the door, arms folded and absolutely fuming. Van Pelt is hot on his heels, looking meek, nervous and ever so slightly embarrassed. The brunette doesn't know whether or not to be relieved that Jane seems to have come to his senses or terrified by the steely glares he is shooting to everyone in the room.

"What are you doing in here?"

His voice is a low rumbling growl and Lisbon flinches as if he had just slapped her around the face instead. She shakes her head, knowing full well that she is being ridiculously oversensitive and she needs to stop acting like this if she wants to get her job done. All that she wants is to go back to that semblance of normality that they were happily existing in two days ago rather than being torn between being scared of offending him and desperate to offer him comfort which he'd no doubt refuse.

Knowing Jane though, he probably just sees all this as being punishment for whatever sins he's done in the past.

For his actions now, even.

She knows that he cheated on his wife. Jane mentioned it once in passing, just dropped it into conversation as if he had been telling her what he fancied for lunch instead. That was a revelation she had never expected but it did go some way to explaining why he could be so hot and cold in whatever it was they had. One minute he could be the warm, sensuous lover and the next having her wondering what, if anything, she had done wrong. Because he wasn't faithful back then, he obviously still feels guilty about it now and now, Lisbon is the one who has to bear the brunt of his own shortcomings.

The team all slowly stop what they're doing to stare and it's only then that she remembers they have an audience. And that they, too, are more than aware of the tension running between Jane and herself.

Unlike Jane, Lisbon isn't ashamed of the relationship. She isn't breaking the rules. Bending them, perhaps, but definitely not breaking them. She's checked, countless times, just to make sure.

But that doesn't mean she's told the team yet. That may have something to do with the fact that, deep down in the pit of her stomach, she's always been fairly certain that this relationship has been doomed from the start. Whether it breaks off almost imminently, cleanly, sharply and before she falls too far or messily, leaving both of them as empty shells, completely wrecked by trying to do this at all, is something she's not sure of. All she knows is that she's guaranteed heartache, where Jane is not so much.

"Doing our job," she eventually hisses in response to his question.

Lisbon knows they've broken into his 'safe' haven, his inner sanctum. But a girl has been murdered simply because of her genes. She never knew her biological father, even if he is reeling at the blow of her death and taking it out on those who care about him. Part of her wants to take Jane by the shoulders and shake him until he regains his senses. This girl wasn't his daughter, not emotionally speaking. His real daughter has already been buried, along with his wife. Yes, he shares genetic material with the young lady lying on the floor, but little else.

"What was that?"

It's Rigsby's voice which cuts through the tension like a carving knife, bringing everyone back to focus on the here and now rather than past, present, future and whatever the hell is going on between Jane and Lisbon. There's another crash, coming from downstairs and Van Pelt is first out of the door.

An explosion echoes around the house, a cacophony of sound.

Coughing, holding a hand in front of her face, Van Pelt crawls back into the room, pillows of smoke surrounding her.

An arsonist of some variety has struck.

And they're trapped.

TBC…