A/N: Thank you for the reviews on the last chapter! You are all still awesome! :) I hope you guys like this chapter. Personally, it is one of my favorites. I'm not really sure why, but I enjoyed writing it. I hope you enjoy reading it!

Disclaimer: Nada.

Chapter 19: Distractions

"Hey, boss!" Rigsby greeted cheerfully when Lisbon hobbled into the bullpen on her walking cast. He and Cho stood up from their desks, each wearing an identical excited grin. "We've missed you."

"Yeah, it sure isn't the same around here without you and Van Pelt," Cho piped in. He glanced at Jane. "Same with you," he added stoically.

"I'm sure," Jane droned sarcastically, though it truly didn't bother him.

"As soon as my physical therapist clears it and I get this damn walking cast off, I'll be back and ready to take down some bad guys. I seriously can't wait." She smiled, glancing over at Jane. "Jane will be back soon. Once Grace comes back, Jane will be back to work."

"We really have missed you, man," Rigsby assured the consultant.

Jane chuckled. "I bet you have." The truth was, Jane had missed working at the CBI, even if it had only been just a few days. Of course, he was happy to take care of Lisbon, and he had missed Lisbon while he was working. It wasn't the same without the two women. Lisbon and Van Pelt were the ones who kept everyone in line, or made a great attempt to, anyway.

"How's everything going around here?" Lisbon asked Rigsby and Cho. "I mean, I've been watching the news, and you guys have done well. Has it been going as smooth as the media cares to portray?"

Rigsby shrugged. "I guess. Still, it isn't the same without the rest of you." He glanced over to the break room, where the substitute agent was sipping coffee and chatting with Paige Clemens from the DA's office. "Agent Taylor is the most irritating person I have ever met in my entire life." He met Jane's eyes. "He makes you seem like an angel."

Jane perked up, smiling in amusement. "Really?" he asked in disbelief, glancing over to the break room. He had met Agent Taylor. He had worked with him, though he had never really taken the time to get to know him.

"Truly," Cho spoke up. "When you irritate us, at least you are somewhat entertaining. Taylor is a jackass, just because that is who he is."

"Interesting," Jane mused.

"Don't even think about it," the boss warned.

His eyes flicked to Lisbon's, mock confusion highlighting his blue irises. "What do you mean?" he asked innocently.

Teresa rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. She shook her head and focused her attention toward Cho and Rigsby again. "Fill me in on the latest case," she requested eagerly, her eyes brightening.

Rigsby and Cho jumped in immediately, making Jane smile. They really had missed their boss, and were eager for her to return to work. Jane watched the three of them interact. Their eyes were all bright, happy to be reunited. His smile widened when Lisbon started barking orders and turned to retreat to her office. Just like old times.

Jane glanced at the clock and his heart sunk. 2:15 in the afternoon.

It was almost showtime.

"Are you guys hungry?" Jane asked Cho and Rigsby, who were already getting to work at their respective desks. They both looked up at him, and Jane could almost see the light bulbs floating above their heads. "Because if you are, I can go grab lunch. There isn't much for me to do around here right now."

"Sounds great," Rigsby jumped in, smiling. Cho nodded in agreement.

"Great. I'll be back in a bit."

Jane walked out of the elevator and toward Lisbon's office, patting his jacket pocket to make sure his pistol was where it was supposed to be. He took a deep breath before poking his head into Lisbon's lair. "Hey," he said, and she looked up. "I'm going to grab some lunch for the boys. Are you hungry?"

She shook her head. "No, I'm good."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive. Thanks, Jane."

He smiled at her before ducking out and heading for the elevators.

He was just pressing the button when he stopped.

What if this didn't end well?

What if he never saw her again?

He thought back to their conversation on the roof after the Doc Dugan case. He thought about how he claimed that he wouldn't care what people thought of him when he was dead. He still stood by his statement, but at this exact moment, he couldn't bear to think about Lisbon hating him if he got killed today.

She might hate him anyway, but there just one last thing he needed to do.

He pivoted on his heel and hurried toward Lisbon's office again. He breathed deeply, not giving himself a chance to talk himself out of it. He burst through the door without knocking. She was next to her desk, sorting through papers. She looked up, puzzled. "Jane? You okay?"

He made it to her in three long strides. He grabbed her face between her hands and pressed his lips against hers.

He could tell by the way she tensed up that he had caught her completely off guard, and he couldn't blame her. He wasn't really expecting this either.

Yet here he was, kissing Teresa Lisbon.

And here she was, finally kissing him back.

Her lips were soft and smooth against his. He slid his arms around her waist and pulled her closer, as close as he could possibly bring her. This was better than he had imagined. So much better.

It took every single ounce of strength within him to pull back to look at her face. Her eyes were still closed. She didn't say anything. She simply kept her eyes closed and breathed. He moved his hands from her waist to the sides of her face and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

"Okay," he whispered. "I'm really leaving now."

With that, he released her and turned, biting back a smile at her groan of protest.

He wished he could stay, but he couldn't. He had serial killer to face.

X

Okay, maybe kissing Lisbon before rushing off to face a psychopath hadn't been the greatest idea.

Because now, his head was fuzzy and his heart was fluttering. How was he supposed to confront a serial killer when he was feeling happy?

In fact, the kiss had him so distracted that he ran right through a stop sign.

"Pull yourself together, Jane," he muttered to himself as he pulled up to the address Red John had given him. He scanned the exterior of the house and resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Of course he was instructed to meet the murderer here. It was an old, creaky house with only a few other houses around it. What was left of the paint on the house was a faded blue, and the porch steps looked like they could collapse at any moment. He sighed and glanced around. No car in sight. Go figure.

With a deep breath, he opened his door and climbed out of the car. He felt around the outside of his pocket for the gun again, which was still in place.

He knew what the odds were. There was a good chance that he wouldn't win this battle, or that his enemy might not even be in there.

As he crossed the yard toward the front porch, Jane tried to tell himself that he was doing this for Angela and Charlotte when in reality he was doing this for Lisbon, too. She deserved closure and even if he failed to give that to her, he had to try.

He walked up the squeaking wooden steps and set his hand on the doorknob. He ushered all the courage he had to the hand that twisted the knob and pushed the door open.

The inside of the house was just as run-down as the outside. Outdated wallpaper. Dusty furniture. Broken glass littered the wooden floor.

"Something tells me home improvement isn't exactly on the agenda today," Jane called out, his voice echoing through the house.

He listened, perhaps waiting for a response, and a cold shiver ran up his spine when he heard a ghostly chuckle in the distance.

He tried to follow the sound but it was difficult to tell where exactly it came from. He tried again. "I do have a job to get back to," he said loudly. "So if we could just get right to the point that would be lovely."

"Where's the fun in that?"

Patrick whipped around and his hand reflexively went for his pocket. He nearly smiled at the action; it was very Lisbon-like.

His enemy was still nowhere to be seen.

"You can come out now, if you'd like," Jane suggested, his tone almost sweet. "No pressure," he added. He took another step down the hallway, peeking around the corner of the doorway and into the living room.

His blood turned cold.

In the corner of the room, a rocking chair moved back and forth, back and forth. It was facing the window, as was the person occupying it, so Jane couldn't see their face.

Jane was so distracted that he didn't even hear the footsteps approaching from behind. He was taken completely by surprise when a pair of strong hand gripped his arms and shoved him back, sending him flying against the wall. He let out a howl as his head banged into a table with a sickening crack.

And then he blacked out.