Authors Note: Same warnings and ratings apply here, though not as bad.

Disclaimer: I own a new phone, that's about it.

Jane woke first the next morning, just as the sun was beginning to filter through the cracks in the blinds. He felt a warm pressure next to him and smiled as he remembered the night before; with her, it was amazing. He hadn't done that in ages, and to share it with Lisbon… that just made it that much more special. He braced himself up on his elbow slightly to look at her lying on her stomach. He had been curled up on his side next to her and he smiled at the thought of them being in such an intimate position.

He placed a hand on her back just to feel the smoothness of it and was puzzled; it wasn't as smooth and inviting as it looked. He leaned closer to look at her back and noticed old scars raised and pale against her skin. This, this was what she had talked about last night, a father who could harm his sweet precious baby girl like that. He couldn't think, he wanted to hurt the man that had done this; the knowledge that he was already dead did little to calm his raging emotions as he placed his hand even more firmly on her back.

She moved beneath him, moaning slightly, wiggling deeper into the mattress, closer to his warmth and his rage subsided slightly. This woman was more than just a stress screw, she was his friend, his boss for lack of a better term; what had he done? Not that it hadn't been just amazing; but, he mused as he stroked her back again, fingering the near invisible scars, she'd had too many men in her life that used her, abused her, and here he was just one more. Taking advantage of her in a moment of need, a moment of want.

This had been a mistake; no not a mistake, but an ill timed choice. Why had his stellar control failed him last night? Was it the confessions they had made? Was it the way she had looked? He had kissed her first – what had he been thinking? He was all wrong for her; he wasn't the person she needed, even if he did want her.

Slowly he extracted himself from her, from her bed, their bed; there was only one in the hotel room, had she planned that? He needed to be away from her to think; this close and all he wanted to do was gather her in his arms and kiss her, pretend that there was no world outside the door. Pretend that she wasn't Lisbon and he wasn't Jane and Red John didn't exist. But he couldn't do it. He couldn't get distracted from his goal; he couldn't allow himself to stray from his path of revenge. He had to do it. He had to get Red John; only then would he be free to move on.

There was really only one place for him to go. Shower, he had to go to the shower, had to escape, but he couldn't leave. The shower was warm, almost too warm, not helping as he thought of her. How he wished that he could just go back out there in her arms. A knock at the door and he almost jumps, slipping slightly, but not falling down.

"Hurry up Jane, others of us need to shower too and we've got a long drive ahead of us today."

"Be right out, Lisbon." This was going to be harder than he thought.

They didn't talk about it at breakfast, but Jane did notice that she touched him more than usual, casually, her hand on his as he opened the door, a bump of a shoulder as they were walking. Her gaze lingered on him as she talked, more so than normal.

Still, in the car, she was driving; he knew they had to talk before they got back to town, before they got back to work and back to the real world. "Lisbon, we need to talk."

Her hands on the steering wheel tightened. "No we don't." Denial.

"We do. Lisbon, last night…"

"We can pretend it didn't happen, Jane just don't say—"

"It was a mistake." He knew she didn't want to hear it, he knew it wasn't the truth, but it was the only way to go back, to pretend it didn't happen, to make her never think of it. Better to have her hate him than for her to be always grasping to that bit of hope, hope that would never be.

"No, Jane it wasn't, it wasn't a—" he cut her off.

"Yes it was. We were both emotionally charged, both not thinking. It was a mistake. We never should have done it." He saw the tears prick in her eyes, saw her blink them away. He'd caused her to cry. He almost told her the truth; that it wasn't a mistake, that he really loved her, that he never wanted to let her go, but he couldn't. "I'm not the man you want, Lisbon. You need to find someone who's not going to hurt you."

She didn't say anything the rest of the drive back. When they got to the CBI building she went inside without him, leaving him in the parking lot alone, like he always was, like he should be. He wanted to hit something. He had hurt her, he knew he would, but it was different seeing it spread across her face.

He didn't go up to the bull pen, didn't go up to his couch, that would be too comforting for him now, he was a royal bastard. He needed to be reminded of it. He drove away in his car slowly, knowing where he was going, knowing that he wouldn't be to work the next day, knowing that Lisbon wouldn't question it and would call if they really needed him.

Hours later, lying under that red face on his wall he realized that it wasn't to protect Lisbon that he pushed her away. It was because he was a coward, a coward that didn't want to take the chance that someone might be able to help him in his quest for vengeance.