A/N: Thanks so much for all the great reviews of the last chapter. Waterbaby and I are so flattered by the attention. I was so inspired by her wonderful chapter, that I was able to quickly dash off the next…

Chapter 5

The next two days were spent preparing for James's funeral and going through the motions of another Red John murder investigation. It was very surreal for Lisbon, and she was oddly torn about where her focus should lie. She had tried valiantly to keep everything in her life in separate compartments, but now, with James's death, the walls had been lifted and everything—her family, her job, her feelings for Jane-was combining in a way she could never have fathomed in her worst nightmares.

But her team went to work, following any lead they could, but the sad truth was everyone knew it was unlikely at this late date that Red John would make a mistake. Still, this had become personal once more for them, since it was personal for Lisbon. She loved them for that, but part of her just wanted them to quit and go home and not waste their time on this. Another part wanted to gather them up and hide them away somewhere so no one could hurt them.

When Tommy and Kevin arrived from Chicago, she wasn't comforted at all by their presence. There was still the coldness between the two men that had been there for years, ever since Tommy had taken James's girlfriend from him and married her, and Kevin had taken James's side. But Tommy had divorced her, which further twisted the knife. At least they'd gotten the blessing of Annabeth from the failed union. Lisbon really didn't need to relive the drama of that time sixteen years ago, especially not now, but here it was again. At least they'd taken the same flight together, had rented one car. That was progress.

"Where's Annabeth?" she demanded of Tommy when he arrived at the hotel where the team was also staying.

"She's at home with her mother. I didn't want her going through any of this."

"Dammit, Tommy, I told you, you need to be careful."

She turned to her other brother. "What about your wife, Kevin? Why didn't she come?" Lisbon asked.

"Jeffery has the flu, Reese. Caroline didn't think they should come."

Lisbon took out her cell phone and immediately got in touch with her contacts on the Chicago police force. She briefly explained the situation, and gave her brothers' addresses.

"Yeah, I'd like them under surveillance until I can hire a private company. Thanks, Rick. I owe you. Yeah, I appreciate that."

Her brothers, looking jet lagged and rather shell shocked, stood in the lobby of the Best Western, staring at a sister that neither of them recognized. Gone was the warm, welcoming mother figure they remembered and had secretly longed for the dreadful moment they heard the news about James. Most of their lives, Teresa had been the one they turned to when they skinned their knees or screwed up, and in her place was a woman who had turned cold and business-like. They wanted their big sister, Reese, not Lisbon the CBI agent.

"I want to go to James's house," said Tommy the moment she ended her call.

"No. It's a crime scene," she said firmly. "Don't even think about it. When they've gathered all the evidence they can, you can go in, but not a moment before, you hear me?"

He crossed his arms in front of him belligerently, and Lisbon knew she'd have to get word to the local PD not to admit him into the house.

"Where's James?" asked Kevin forlornly.

Lisbon almost lost it then. Poor Kevin, the most quiet and sensitive of her little brothers, looked as lost and alone as he had as a little boy when the big kids wouldn't play with him. He'd inherited Lisbon's same diminutive height, and being the oldest of the three, he'd unfortunately borne the brunt of their father's abuse as a child. He'd been closest to James, up until five years ago when he'd moved from Chicago, so she knew this must be hitting him especially hard. She wanted to hug him, but she couldn't bring herself to do it, to give in to her sadness. She had to stay strong so she could find the man who killed their brother.

"The coroner still has him," she said, though she couldn't help her voice from softening a bit. "They'll release the body soon and we can plan the funeral."

"Should we take him home to Chicago?" Kevin asked.

"He hated it there," said Tommy.

It was at that moment that Jane strolled through the lobby from the direction of the free breakfast buffet. He paused at the sight of the three dark-haired Lisbon's, and he would have smiled at their similarities were he not equally torn up about their loss. It would have been rude not to stop, even for him, and pay his condolences. Besides, Lisbon seemed grateful for his unexpected presence.

"Tommy, you remember Jane."

Jane reached out his hand, but Tommy kept his arms crossed in front of him. So, this would be the angry brother.

"Tommy," Lisbon all but growled her disapproval. He reluctantly shook Jane's hand.

"Kevin, this is my partner, Patrick Jane."

Jane nodded and shook his hand as well. Kevin was like a male duplicate of Lisbon. He only stood a couple of inches taller than her, with the same green eyes, the same dimples, the same natural wave to his sable hair. They could easily have been mistaken for twins.

"I'm sorry for your loss," Jane said formally.

"Huh," said Tommy under his breath.

Except for an angry glance from Lisbon, she and Kevin ignored him.

"Tommy told me you're an expert on this Red John," said Kevin.

"Yes," Jane replied.

"He killed your wife and daughter."

"Yes, he did."

As with all victims' families, Jane really didn't know what to say that wouldn't sound trite or give them false hope. Had it been anyone besides Lisbon's brothers, he would have bluntly told them that they should pack it in and accept disappointment, that despite Jane's short list of suspects, there were no guarantees they would ever be able to pin anything on any one of them.

But Tommy could no longer stay silent.

"So, because Teresa's been working this case for you all these years, she made enemies with a serial killer, and he decided to take it out on her, is that about right?"

"Shut the hell up, Tommy," said Lisbon tightly. "We've already had this conversation."

"No, he's right, Lisbon. Let the man have his say."

Tommy moved to stand nearly nose-to-nose with Jane, and surprisingly, Jane let him. Normally, he hated anyone invading his personal space, could barely tolerate other people even touching him, save Lisbon. But he'd been where Tommy was, and every time they came across another Red John victim, Jane found himself back there again, devastated, angry, wanting answers no one could give him.

"You know what I think, Mr. Jane? I think you must have done something to piss this guy off. I mean, that's why he murdered your family, isn't it?"

Tommy had obviously been doing some research of his own, filling in the blanks his sister had purposefully left open.

Jane flinched, but couldn't very well deny it.

"Jesus Christ, Tommy," said Kevin.

"So why don't you take your so-called Red John expertise and shove it up your ass. You've done nothing to help find the bastard in ten years; what makes you think this time will be any different, except that maybe you'll end up getting my sister killed too."

"Tommy, that's enough!" Lisbon said, pushing her way between them. She shoved her brother violently away and he stumbled back a few steps before righting himself, breathing heavily with adrenalin. Their raised voices had attracted the attention of hotel security, and a uniformed guard walked purposefully toward them.

"Is there a problem here?" he asked sternly, hand on his sidearm.

"No officer," Lisbon said, flashing her badge. "A family matter. Tommy, I suggest you go outside and cool off."

"Well you'd better resolve this family matter privately and quietly, or I'll have to ask you to leave the hotel."

"I apologize. It won't happen again," she said, and Kevin and Lisbon looked at each other in resignation. They'd been down this road before with Tommy, many times. For Jane's part, he had remained silent, not even escalating the situation as he was wont to do, and for that, Lisbon was deeply grateful. Still, he hadn't deserved Tommy's unfair accusations.

Seeing that the problem had apparently left the hotel, the security guard wandered back to the front desk, but he lingered to keep watch on the trio that remained.

"I'm sorry for my brother," said Kevin to Jane. "He can be a real asshole."

"He has every right to be angry," said Jane. "But I want you to know, the last thing in the world I wanted was for Red John to take out his vendetta against me on your family."

"I'm sure you know how we feel better than anyone, Mr. Jane."

"Call me Patrick."

Kevin nodded, then ran his hands tiredly through his tousled hair. "I'm tired, Reese. I'm going to go ahead and check into my room. Can we meet later for lunch?"

Lisbon smiled for the first time since her brothers had arrived, and finally, she gave in to her impulse and hugged Kevin briefly, but tightly. She had truly missed him.

"I'm glad you're here," she whispered to him.

He squeezed his eyes shut against tears, and nodded into her hair, then stepped out of her embrace.

"See you later, Patrick."

"Kevin."

"Holy shit," muttered Lisbon when Kevin had left. "I didn't need this right now."

"I should have just walked on by to the elevator," he said. "Sorry I made things worse."

"Don't be. Kevin's right; Tommy is a hard-headed asshole. He was unnecessarily cruel."

"But very close to the truth."

He sighed, focusing in on her drawn face and the dark circles beneath her eyes. He was certain she hadn't slept last night.

"Have you eaten?" he asked her.

"I had coffee. I'm not hungry."

He steered her toward the breakfast room. "At least have some toast and fruit or something. You'll wear yourself down, and you're going to need the energy to get through these next few days, trust me."

She didn't think she could eat a bite, but she felt she owed him a try, given how he'd handled her brothers.

"Okay. I'll try."

"That's my girl," he said, walking behind her, his hands on her shoulders a moment. He gave them a brief squeeze and moved to walk beside her. To his great surprise, she found his hand and gripped it tightly in hers.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

James's body was released to a local funeral home, (his cause of death easy to determine) and Lisbon and her brothers planned a simple graveside service. James's fellow firemen, however, had grander ideas for his funeral, which the Lisbon's reluctantly allowed. James had apparently made many friends during his five years in Oregon.

The fire department supplied an honor guard, and bunting to drape the coffin. Tommy, Kevin, Rigsby, Cho and two firemen served as pallbearers. Everyone from the station wore their dress uniforms, and the fire chief gave the eulogy. The ceremony ended with the mournful sound of bagpipes, while James's brothers cried silently. Jane stood closely between Grace and Lisbon, who both wore the black dresses Grace had bought for them from a nearby department store.

Lisbon didn't shed a tear, but stared blankly as the pomp went on around her. When Kirkland offered his condolences after the service, Lisbon showed her first emotion of the day, but only Jane felt it in her stiffened body.

The team and the Lisbon's dined somberly at a chain restaurant with a bar, where Tommy drank too much and Kevin tried valiantly to talk about the good times. Unfortunately, given the dysfunction of the Lisbon household, there were few of those, and the conversation dried up quickly; unfortunately, the alcohol did not. Cho and Rigsby helped Tommy into the CBI van along with Grace, while Kevin drove Lisbon and Jane in the rental. Jane had carefully counted Lisbon's drinks—they'd numbered five shots of tequila-but she didn't seem much affected by those either.

He was deeply worried about her, and he insisted on escorting her to her room to make sure she bypassed the hotel bar. Her hands shook slightly when she tried to swipe her key card, until Jane took it and opened her door for her. When she looked up at him with gratitude (along with something else) in her slightly glassy eyes, he knew he'd better leave her before something happened neither of them was ready for.

It would be so easy to take her to bed, as vulnerable and tipsy as she was, and that knowledge alone was a dangerous temptation for him. He still vividly remembered the brief taste of her lips that morning in the desert, and though he had been trying to comfort her then, that intimacy had lingered to heat his blood at inopportune moments…like this one.

"Are you gonna be okay?" he asked her, his feet planted firmly in the hallway. She ignored his question.

"Would you like to come in for awhile? The mini bar's stocked."

She tossed her gun and badge on the dresser and kicked off her flats. She was trying to be casual about her offer, but her pulse was pounding in her temples at the images she'd conjured in her mind. Her room had a king-sized bed, and she found she wanted desperately for Jane to take her there and make her feel something again, if only for a little while.

"I don't think that's a good idea," he replied seriously.

She walked back to the doorway where he stood, and he caught the scent of the same hotel soap he'd used that morning. It was oddly intimate. Almost against his will, his eyes roamed up and down her body.

Lisbon seldom wore dresses, and she looked so ironically beautiful in black. He found it difficult to keep his eyes off her legs, which were pleasantly toned and surprisingly tan. Jane had always been a leg man, and his own traitorous imagination flashed an image of Lisbon's wrapped around his waist. He swallowed and met her eyes sheepishly.

"Come on, Jane," she said, or, more accurately, the liquor said. "We're partners-friends, even. What's a nightcap between friends?"

"Teresa, you've had a little too much to drink, and you just had a crippling loss. This isn't a good idea," he repeated.

She sighed. "You're right, of course. I'm sorry. Go get some sleep; we have a long drive tomorrow."

He hesitated, trying to gauge what was the liquor and what was really Lisbon.

"I'm all right, really," she continued. "I just need some sleep too. I think the tequila will help with that." Her lips twisted into a wry grin.

"Okay," he relented, "Good night, Lisbon." He moved to step back so she could close the door, but then she said his name.

"Jane…have you ever wondered what it would be like, if you and I were to...?" She was leaning her head against the half-open door, and she blushed when she realized she'd spoken aloud her fondest wish.

"Yes," he said, and the admission made him feel a little drunk, himself. "But this is neither the time nor the place. It would be a terrible mistake you would probably regret the moment after it happened."

Step away from the door, Jane. Right now, said Jane's conscience.

"What if you kissed me? Just once. Then I promise I'll go to sleep."

He had to smile at her. Tipsy Lisbon was adorable and incredibly seductive.

"Please…I'm so tired of the numbness."

His smile faded, because he knew exactly how she felt. He'd cut himself in the mental hospital in order to feel something besides the cold darkness of ultimate despair. He didn't want her ever to reach that point.

He stepped over the threshold and pushed open the door, and she backed into her room, looking up at him with wide green eyes.

He'd intended to give her a light kiss on par with what they'd shared in the desert, but once his lips touched hers, he was powerless to hold back. They were far beyond teasing, and she opened her mouth to receive his seeking tongue. He didn't expect kissing her to be so instantly consuming, and his quest to make her feel again completely backfired on him. He was the one feeling entirely too much, and it was hot and sweet and so powerful he didn't want to stop.

He backed her against the closet door, his hands in her hair as he tilted her head to deepen the kiss further, feeling almost dizzy to have her body pressed against his at last. When her small hands slid to his waistband, he knew in the back of his mind that this was too fast, she was too drunk, too grieved, and their first time together shouldn't be like this.

Her hands were at his belt now, and he knew he would have to be the one to put the brakes on or they'd be rolling around on that king-sized bed in about two minutes.

"Lisbon," he said on a gasp as he pulled his mouth away from hers. Her lips slid to his neck, and he closed his eyes as if he were in pain when he felt her hot breath in his ear.

"Yes, Patrick?"

He dropped his hands to stop her before she could undo his belt.

"Lisbon—Teresa…please…stop!"

"It's okay, Jane," she said, panting, her hands slipping from beneath his and brushing against the fullness in his pants. "I want this…I want you."

"No, you don't, trust me."

He stepped away from her, reaching for the door that had closed automatically while he'd kissed her.

"We're about to become a drunken cliché, and I guarantee you'd regret it in the morning, cliché as that also sounds. Now, you're going to take a hot shower and get into that bed—alone—and I'm going to go to my own room—alone—to take a much colder one."

"Jane—"

"You'll thank me for this, Lisbon, I promise you."

His last glimpse of her was one that would keep him awake most of the night, despite the cold shower. Her hair had been in disarray from his hands, her lips red and swollen from his kisses, and her eyes a deep forest green of longing. He practically ran down the hall to his room to escape her, fumbling with his own key card now to get inside to the safety of two locked doors between them.

He threw himself onto his bed, staring at the ceiling, willing his heart rate to slow and his arousal to lessen. This was ridiculous. Of all the inappropriate moments to kiss her, to be tempted to take her to bed, he had to pick the day she buried her brother, murdered by Red John. There was something seriously wrong with him—well, even more so than usual.

"Great job, Jane," he said sarcastically to the empty room.

But when he closed his eyes, all he could think of was how amazing her lips had felt beneath his, and how he'd give anything to let her unbuckle his belt right now.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Jane awoke to the ringing of his cell phone. It was Cho.

"Have you seen Lisbon?" he asked without preamble.

"Well, she's not here if that's what you're asking."

"I, uh, wasn't, but that's good to know. She's not answering her phone or her door. Her brothers already left for their early morning flight, and Kevin told me she didn't even say good-bye."

Well, that wasn't like her at all, thought Jane ominously. Cho must have thought the same thing.

"I've got another call," said Jane. "Hold on; it might be her."

It was. "Lisbon? Should we put out an APB for you?"

"No, I slept for a couple hours, then I took a taxi to James's house. I took his car… I'm almost home."

"Dammit, you were in no condition to be driving."

"I have a lot of coffee in me, and I'm fine now. I just wanted to be alone for a little while."

He could understand it, but he didn't have to like it.

"This didn't have anything to do with last night, did it?"

"Last night? What did I do? I was a little hyped up…"

He grinned. So that was how she was going to play it, throwing his own words back in his face from the time he denied remembering his confession of love.

"Yeah, we both were."

They paused to remember the feverish kisses they'd shared. Yes, they'd definitely been hyped up.

"Okay, well I'll see you back in Sacramento in a few hours," she told him.

"You sure you're okay. You have your gun handy?"

"Yeah," but she wasn't offended by his caution. Until they caught Red John, her gun would be at her side twenty-four-seven.

"Good."

"Oh, and Jane. You were right to stop last night. I was a little drunk."

"Yes you were…To be continued," he said softly.

"Definitely. When this whole thing is over."

"Yes. Be careful, Lisbon."

"You too."

Jane remembered belatedly that Cho was still on the other line.

"That was Lisbon. She took her brother's car and drove it home. She's okay."

"You sure?"

"No," Jane admitted. "But that's what she said."

"We'll leave in thirty minutes." Cho was known for his punctuality and Jane could very well be left behind if he didn't get a move on. He jumped out of bed, anxious to get home and see for himself just how okay Lisbon really was.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Lisbon pulled into the parking lot of Visualize. She stared at the large stone building, imposing as a fortress, designed both to keep people out, as well as to keep them in. She shivered. It was a creepy place, and the New Age, cultish concepts of their religion clashed jarringly with hers.

She showed her badge at the reception desk so was able to bypass security. It also helped that she and Jane were well-known to Visualize, with a standing invitation from Bret Stiles himself, who happened to be suspect number one on Jane's list.

"I need to see Mr. Stiles," she said calmly.

"Do you have an appointment?" asked the overly cheery college student.

"No, but he'll see me."

"One moment."

She made a couple of quick calls, and, as if by magic, another college aged kid appeared. "Jonathan will escort you to Mr. Stiles's office."

"Thanks."

Lisbon followed the young man, a strange calm overtaking her. After a quick knock on Stiles's door, Jonathan opened it for her, and Lisbon stepped inside the lion's den. The white haired old man rose, his bright blue eyes glinting merrily at her.

"Well, Agent Lisbon. What an unexpected pleasure. Is Mr. Jane with you, or the lovely Agent Van Pelt?"

"No. Just me."

"Hm. I must say I didn't think you'd be up to paying calls so soon after your recent tragedy. I am sorry for your loss."

Lisbon reached inside her jacket and pulled her Glock from her shoulder holster. She was across the large office and pointing the gun at Bret Stiles's head before either of them could blink.

"What's this?" the cult leader asked calmly. "Agent Lisbon, whatever you want, I assure you this isn't necessary."

She removed the safety with an audible click.

"Oh, but I think it is. Just one question, Mr. Stiles. Did you murder my brother? Because if I don't believe your answer, I'm going to blow your goddamn head off."

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Jane had had a bad feeling the entire trip home. Lisbon had sounded calm enough on the phone, but with losing her brother and making out with her long-time partner, he'd expected her to sound a little more…affected.

Rigsby and Grace, sitting together in the back seat of the SUV, surreptitiously held hands since the boss wasn't with them, but their eyes were on Jane in the passenger seat next to Cho. Jane was fidgeting. He rarely fidgeted. But he alternated drumming his fingers on the arm rest and shifting in his seat, and he'd been doing it for 200 miles.

He didn't want to stop to eat lunch, either, much to Rigbsy's dismay. Instead, they took a bathroom break and grabbed a convenience store sandwich when they stopped for gas.

"What are you so nervous about, Jane?" Rigsby finally broke down and asked. He was still annoyed that Jane and Lisbon were keeping secrets, and he had no doubt the root of Jane's stranger than normal behavior had to do with those secrets.

"I'm worried about Lisbon," he said.

"You think she'll do something rash?" asked Van Pelt.

"I don't know."

He'd been saying that a lot lately. Where was the confidence he used to have, that instinct that had made him such a good fake psychic? But maybe the problem was he feared he actually knew what she was up to and was afraid to admit it to himself, let alone to anyone else.

They were almost to Sacramento when Jane's phone rang. It was an unfamiliar number, but he immediately thought it could be Lisbon in trouble.

"Hello."

"Patrick." The voice was hauntingly familiar.

"Bret?" he said, surprised. Then his heart pounded because he was talking to one of his suspects. "What can I do for you?"

"I just had an interesting visit from your Agent Lisbon."

A million thoughts ran through his mind. Was Bret Stiles holding her hostage somewhere? Had Lisbon done something incredibly risky, or stupid? Was she dead? And was this the way Lisbon felt about him most of the time?

"Oh?" he said casually.

"Yes. Mostly I talked, which one tends to do with a gun pointed at one's head."

His heart skipped a beat.

"Where is she?"

"Oh, long gone, I imagine. She was spouting out these wild accusations, that I was Red John, that I had killed her brother. It was quite distressing, I must say. So I'm calling you as a friend, Patrick. Agent Lisbon seems in desperate need of some sort of intervention. We at Visualize would be happy to help with that—"

"No, we can help her. She's obviously going through a tough time right now. Thanks for calling."

He disconnected, his body trembling. Oh, Lisbon, what have you done?

"Well?" said Rigsby. "What was that about?"

"Nothing," said Jane. "Can you step on it Cho? I really would like to get home."

Cho pulled over to the side of the road and stopped the SUV. He turned to Jane, unusual anger flashing in his eyes.

"I'm not going another mile until you tell us what the hell is going on."

Well, thought Jane, I could lie, obviously. Telling them about the list could put them in unnecessary danger, or, though it's unlikely, one of these three could be working for Red John. Either way, I'm not ready to take that risk right now.

He decided that the best option was to tell them a half-truth that would hopefully satisfy…for now.

He sighed heavily.

"Lisbon has it in her mind that Bret Stiles is Red John. She went to confront him today."

"What?" Van Pelt gasped.

"Yes. The Visualize connection to Red John seems undeniable. She must have decided to take matters into her own hands because Stiles just told me she threatened to kill him if he didn't fess up. She left him unharmed, so he must have convinced her she was wrong about him."

"What do you think?" asked Cho.

Jane shrugged. "I could see Stiles as Red John," he said simply.

"Yeah, me too," said Rigsby. "The guy is a controlling nut job with a hokey religion."

"I sort of like some of the things he says," said Van Pelt. "It's peaceful…"

"Not much peace surrounds that guy, given the times we've had to investigate him or his people for murder," countered Rigsby.

Cho, meantime, was staring at Jane, gauging his sincerity. He was one of the most astute interrogators Jane had ever seen, gifted with the ability to pull out the truth from suspects and to spot a lie a mile away. But everything Jane had just said was the truth. It just wasn't all of the truth.

"Okay," he said after a few tense minutes. He signaled and looked out the window, then merged back on to the interstate.

"Why couldn't you have told us this?" asked Van Pelt.

"I don't think Lisbon would want you to know what she did. I'm sure she broke several laws today. But I understand what she's doing, and why she's doing it."

"You think the shock of her brother has pushed her round the bend?" asked Rigsby.

"I don't know," said Jane.

But that was another lie. He willed Cho's foot to be heavier, for the miles to pass quickly, because Jane knew with a sinking heart where Lisbon was likely heading next.

A/N: Thanks for reading! And we love the great reviews, so please log in and let us know your thoughts. I know waterbaby will have her chapter as soon as she can, so we appreciate your patience. Sometimes life gets in the way of fanfiction, unfortunately.

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