A/N: Frantic updating of doom still. *grins* I think I know how Div felt when writing Serendipity at the end of last month now. Except this is longer... and I still have a lot left planned for it. Eek. And I really should be working on SSS stuff. Dammit.

Thank you to: yaba, phoenixmagic1, boutondor, lisbon69, Helvetica Bold, Frogster, Koezh, dwennie, anthropologist, Famous4it and Ebony10 for reviewing part seven. I'm so grateful for the support - and especially that you're keeping up with this crazy updating rate.

For boutondor again, who needs something to make her smile.

x tromana

Part Eight

"The hair looks good."

Lisbon looked at Jane warily but didn't respond. She was busy trying desperately to work out the catch. Then again, that was hardly surprising; she rarely took well to compliments anyway.

"Reminds me of when we were married."

"Thanks, I guess."

He smirked as she raised a skeptical eyebrow and eased herself into her office chair. Without looking at him, she went about her normal routine: booting up her computer, taking periodic sips of her morning coffee, quickly flicking through any outstanding paperwork to see if anything caught her eye.

And particularly if that note from Minelli relating to psychiatrists had arrived yet. Not that she wanted it to.

Half a minute later, she glanced back at him. He was still there, busy fiddling with her pens.

"Is there a reason for you to be hounding me in my office or are you just bored and looking for entertainment."

"There's something wrong."

"I'm fine."

"No, you're not," Jane retorted and Lisbon quickly opened her mouth, but shut it again. "You're hiding something."

"And so was the Wicked Witch of the West."

"No, she was more misunderstood," Jane answered smoothly, taking a file out of her hands and placing it back down. "If you believe what Maguire has to say, anyway."

"Whatever."

"You're not in the mood to talk, are you?"

"No, I'm not."

"I'll leave you to it then."

"Good."

Jane knew it was uncharacteristic to admit defeat so soon, but as something was really troubling Lisbon, he couldn't upset her. Well, even more so than she already was.

If he did so, she'd never talk.

And that would do no good.

Especially as he was almost certain it had something to do with Red John. Something to do with the Plaskett case.

Probably to do with the fact that they were caught hugging on camera.

And the chaste kiss to the cheek.

Especially that.

After all, so long ago now, she'd said that 'still counts' to him. Would Red John agree with her? Was she simply running scared that a serial killer would be out for blood, simply because she had reminded him he was still in the land of the living?

And if Red John did agree with her sentiments, how long would it be until he reared his ugly head again? How long would he leave her to stress herself out and worry?

000

She was out, probably for the rest of the afternoon.

Interviewing a relative of the victim with Cho. She'd explicitly told him not to come along; earlier that day, he'd already insulted the manager of a health consortium and she apparently thought it wise that he stay back in the office and 'cool off' for a while.

He was perfectly fine though. She was the one who needed to calm down.

Obviously, the stress of the situation was taking it out on her.

She had tried to banter earlier, like normal, but had run out of steam and thrown him unceremoniously out of her office instead.

Not that that hadn't happened before of course. Quite frequently, even. Through entirely no fault of… who was he kidding? He liked needling her and that was exactly why Lisbon took her frustrations out on him.

Jane would normally feel grumpy about being left out of the exciting parts of the cases. The one where he got to see new audiences and have them marvel at his skills (or throwing crockery, whichever came first). He got to show off in front of Lisbon and the rest of the team and it stopped him from laying on a couch, simply procrastinating.

It stopped him from thinking about Red John and what could have been, what should have been, with Teresa.

Still, he was quite pleased to be left at the office, alone.

He didn't even know where Rigsby and Van Pelt were, only that they were doing something to do with the case. That was a little risky of Lisbon; those two were becoming very hopeless at hiding their affections for one another.

But he was pleased they were gone. It meant he could get on with his snooping in peace. Not that they would have bothered to stop him either way. Van Pelt might have offered a few lame words, but that was about it. They both knew well enough that when Jane was on a mission, nothing they could say or do would stop him.

As he started rifling through the paperwork on her desk, his eyes flickered briefly up to the clock. Three seventeen p.m. She would probably be back by five.

That meant he had plenty of time.

Still, it didn't stop him from growing frustrated. If it was something to do with paperwork that was annoying her, it would be relatively new. There hadn't been enough time for it to be buried deep within her files just yet. He had half a feeling that it might be the meeting with the new psychiatrist. Lisbon would be the one responsible for telling him the time and date of his appointment too and she could just be putting it off.

Some say out of sight is out of mind, after all.

He grinned when he opened the file on the very top, but it soon fell from his face as he realized what the contents actually were.

But it was just what he was looking for. And it had been hiding in plain sight all along.

000

They arrived back later than she expected. Lisbon hadn't even bothered to let Cho come back up to the office and had simply dismissed him in the parking lot. Anything of use could be done in the morning.

But of course, when it came to work, it was one rule for her and another for the others. Though Jane had made up a completely different set for himself, of course.

She was feeling relatively calm until she switched on the lamp of her desk and jumped a mile.

Patrick Jane was sitting in her chair.

"Jane! You scared the crap out of me," she hissed, glancing away briefly. "Don't do that."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Tell you what?"

He narrowed his eyes at her and opened the file.

The contents were all too familiar for her. A copy of the letter from Red John that she had received just under forty eight hours ago.

She had been intending to tell him, but had been putting it off. Jane knew about the other ones and Lisbon knew that sooner or later, he would find out.

But talking about it was hard. Nor was it a pleasant conversational topic. Just how did you approach a work colleague (somebody who, coincidentally, you loved dearly) and announce lightly that a serial killer was planning to kill you, simply because you had offered him some comfort?

"I was going to tell you…"

"When? When it was too late?" Jane queried and she glanced away, unable to bear his fiery gaze. "Red John wants to kill you. He said as much."

"I know!"

"There's no need to be running scared alone, Teresa…"

"Yes, there is," she retorted, hating the situation, hating herself for not having held back in the first place. "I can't risk anybody's else's lives…"

"But it's okay for you to put yourself in the line of fire alone? And what about Renfrew? The Plaskett girls? Anyone else who he targets between now and when he decides…"

"Jane…"

"Damn it, Lisbon," Jane snapped, finally losing his patience with her. "How many more people have to die just because you don't have the confidence to use a perfectly viable plan?"

"You're right," she muttered and he gazed up at her, a small smile creeping onto his face. "We should do this."

"What?"

"You know, pretend to be…" she trailed off, wishing that Jane wouldn't put her into such an uncomfortable position. "Pretend to be in love again. If he's planning to do something anyway…"

"Why pretend?"

TBC…