A/N: Because I'm still feeling angsty, but I'm sick of thinking about them breaking up. Here's a new outlet for my sadness. Word props to moonakahuna.

Dangerous

"Yoo-hoo," Jane crooned softly at the dim screen in front of him. "Come out, come out."

The office was dark. It very well should be at 2:43am. Jane sat hunched over his neglected computer, wiling away the early morning hours the way he almost always did. Hunting. His prey was being elusive, as usual. In fact, he hadn't glimpsed hide nor hair of him since he'd slaughtered Bosco's team and killed his secretary accomplice. But Jane knew. Oh, indeed he knew.

Their constant link was the internet. It was the one place they could frequent together. Meet together. And neither would be at risk. Jane enjoyed the idea of hunting for the man in chat rooms and searching for him in blogs. He knew Red John would enjoy the idea of the chase. He was certain the man was out there, leaving little clues. Taunting him in disguised Lonely Hearts ads and used equipment classifieds. He was sure Red John would think he was being cute. Jane was sure he'd be caught through his conceited distain for the police.

And he had all the time in the world.

So when he found a chat room member with the name Ron Hedj in a discussion on capital punishment on the Project Justice page, his face broke into its trademark smirk. He clicked the IM icon.

Trickane: Late night, my friend?

He held his breath and waited.

Ron Hedj: Of course. You?

Trickane: Always.

Ron Hedj: Very vigilant of you. I'm impressed. While you're here, would you like to join the discussion? I imagine you have some very concise opinions on the death penalty. I would enjoy hearing them immensely.

Trickane: Later perhaps. I'd hate to interrupt your trawling. Isn't that why you're here? Looking for new recruits to carry about your bidding? Lonely, frightened, desperate people looking for help? For love? Must be rich pickings.

Ron Hedj: You wound me. I choose many of them with you in mind. They've done well so far, do you not agree? They've fooled hundreds of people, but you? For them to have fooled you is very gratifying. I mean that as a compliment.

Trickane: Fooled? Come now. Temporarily deceived, perhaps. They can never hide for long. That's the trouble when drafting sociopaths. They're often more obvious than they think they are.

Ron Hedj: So very true. Good help is hard to find, I'm sure you can understand.

Trickane: If I may make a request, could your next pawn have a bit more…how should I say?...pizzazz? I'm growing bored with the Red John propoganda and mad-eyed oaths of loyalty. "He promised me this, he magically fixed that, etc." When your next inevitable patsy ends up in front of me, can you make sure they're a bit more witty? Urbane, even? God forbid I get an interesting conversationalist for a change.

Ron Hedj: ………a person more to your liking. Interesting. Perhaps I have been remiss in my…pawns…as you put it. I could argue I've been equally remiss with my victims.

Jane froze. Their banter, mere circling as Jane tried desperately to gain access to his nemesis' mind, took a decidedly sharp turn. His fingers hovered, unable to type.

Ron Hedj: Ah. I see that captured your attention. Yes, perhaps you're right. Perhaps I need to find someone with a bit more strength a character. A bit more fight. Lisbon, perhaps?

Jane inhaled sharply. His fingers were still as stone.

Ron Hedj: Yes, Teresa Lisbon would have plenty of fight in her. A worthy prize. Or perhaps Kimball Cho? Tell me, what do you think it would take to harness Cho? A great deal, I'd think. It would much easier to drive over to his apartment on Continental Avenue, slip into his kitchen window and shoot him in his north-facing bedroom.

Jane sat helpless. He'd known that Red John would know everything. Absolutely everything. His team, their addresses, their routines, hell even their favorite foods. But somehow he'd hoped against hope that it would never surface. Somehow, his beloved team would slip past this monster unnoticed. He had prayed Red John would simply bring the fight to him. Now, the murdering bastard was tormenting him with the obvious truth. He knew everything. And he could do anything. He watched in horror as the next text popped up.

Ron Hedj: But no. Lisbon and Cho are soldiers. As guilty as their deaths would make you feel, they see this danger as their duty. If I took them, there might be a small comfort for you, knowing their strength, knowing they fought me until the end. Knowing that they would stay strong.

No. To truly get to you, I would have to take Van Pelt and Rigsby.

Jane's heart went subzero at their written names. The names of two young people, so wide-eyed and sweet. So trusting of much of the world. Red John was right. Their names were not soldiers' names.

Ron Hedj: I can almost hear your thoughts. So young. So happy and in love. Even now, Rigsby is with her. They're asleep, tangled together in Van Pelt's rather messy bedroom. They had pasta for dinner. He kissed the back of her neck as she cooked. They sat on her leather sofa for hours watching tv, talking, kissing. They're so beautiful together.

….I think I'd kill Van Pelt first.

Jane slammed his fists on either side of the keyboard.

Ron Hedj: Hmmmm. Perhaps I wouldn't even kill Rigsby at all. I'll simply let him watch. Tie him up carefully. Couldn't risk a big man like him getting loose, could I? Sit him down all comfortable and drag a knife through his true love. Over and over and over and over…. I could turn him into a man like you. A playmate for you. Would you like that?

"Fuck you," Jane spat low.

Ron Hedj: The beauty is that I'd kill him anyway and not even touch him. He'd die so painfully. A little each day. Van Pelt's blood everywhere. He'd never see anything else. Except maybe you. He might see you. Every time he looked at you, he'd know you brought me into his life and killed his woman. Simply to get to you.

Grace. His perfect match. Murdered. Because of you.

Jane slammed the laptop shut. The motor immediately quieted. Ron disappeared. Trembling, Jane lowered his head into his hands. His team. His friends. They were alive simply by the grace of a maniac.

He wanted Jane to suffer. He wanted him screaming in agony. And he knew it was the easiest thing in the world to accomplish. Don't kill the strong. Don't target the experienced or the wise.

Kill the love. Find those weakened by love. Use it against them. Destroy it forever. Jane moaned softly. Rigsby and Van Pelt. The young and in love.

Tears splashed the closed laptop.