After Donna's smoking hot last instalment, and that admittedly rather cruel cliffhanger, I had a feeling you guys were clamouring to know what happens next, so I devoted my entire weekend off to this chapter. I hope you like it.

Chapter 5

Silence fell but for the steady drip of water from their bodies and clothes, back into the pool where he stood, still holding her tightly by the waist, despite the apparent attack of conscience.

"You know what I mean," he said quietly. "This…us…it just doesn't fit."

"I hate to disagree with you, Jane," she said, "but I think we fit together pretty well. In fact," She leaned forward and whispered in his ear. "I think you underestimate just how good a fit we could be."

She went to kiss him again, but he jerked his head away from her and shuffled back a step or two in the water to allow himself some breathing space.

"I can't offer you anything," he said. "I can't give you what you need, or what you deserve."

"And what is that exactly?" she asked.

"Stability," he said. "Security. Someone who'd never hurt you."

"Well maybe I don't want those things," she said. "Maybe I want someone fun, exciting. Someone who likes to live on the edge."

He flinched as she threw his own words back at him once again. What did she do, memorize everything he said so she could use it against him at the most inopportune moments?

"You don't know what you want," he said.

"Don't I?"

She slid off the side and back into the water, ducking briefly under the surface. As she re-emerged, she threw her head back, her neck forming a graceful arc as she swept her hair out of her eyes like a mermaid, or some kind of water goddess.

He watched her, entranced by the alluring way she moved.

"The thing is, Jane," she said. "You don't know me as well as you think you do. Not anymore."

She took a step towards him. Six months ago, she would never have dared to speak to him like this. She would never have agreed to take this little dip with him. Certainly would never have initiated a kiss. But now she knew what it was like to be without him, she wasn't keen for a repeat.

"You were gone for a long time," she said. "It gave me an opportunity to think."

"About what?" he asked.

"You, mostly," she said, mildly. "And whether you really know what you want."

"Of course I do," he said. "Red John taken out. Dead."

She took another step forward. "And what else?"

This was too much for Jane, who immediately seized her and resumed their frenzied kissing, gripping her, as though afraid she'd melt away or sink. She wrapped her legs around him, both his strong grip and the water working in tandem to keep her at exactly the right height for her to clutch his face with her hands and pull him deeper and deeper into the kiss.

He pulled her body flush against his, and then lowered his lips to her neck, delighting in her little cries of ecstasy as he kissed it, nibbled it with his lips, and tickled it with his tongue. His fingers crawled under the back of her tank top, gently teasing it away from where it was sticking to her soaked skin. She didn't protest; instead she sighed and shuddered and moaned as it slowly peeled away, inch by inch.

"Oh God," she whispered, as he ran his hands up and down her back, wanting to touch every inch of her soft skin, to savour every single second of this, while it lasted.

"Just 'Patrick' is fine," he murmured, and she laughed a little hysterically, before lunging forward and capturing his mouth again with hers. They kissed until every last scrap of oxygen was gone from their lungs.

"You'll pay for that one," she said, through ragged breaths.

"And what are you going to do, kiss me to death?" he asked, equally hoarsely.

She smiled. "Exactly."

She wound her arms around his neck again and began to drop little, light, teasing kisses on his forehead, his cheeks, his lips, his nose, his neck, his shoulders, his collarbone, his chest, each time making contact no longer than half a second. The places her lips touched tingled and burned. She was going far too slow, the pace was killing him. He groaned involuntarily, as they landed on his nipple and then kept descending.

"You're good," he managed to pant.

"You haven't seen anything yet," she said, with a wicked smile, and her hands travelled down his bare chest again, exploring every crevasse until they landed on the hem of his shorts, so dangerously close to the point of no return.

It had been a long time since she'd been so aggressive with a man. She'd done OK sexually over the last few years, but with Mashburn, and the other two faceless men she'd had one-night stands with, she had always been the one chased. They had always been the ones to do all the pursuing, all the seducing, and she'd let them. The attention was flattering, particularly with billionaire, notorious, beautiful-womanizer Mashburn, and the sex had been satisfying enough.

It was gratifying to know that she still had the ability to have a man right where she wanted him, as she felt Jane trembling against her, waiting for her to choose her next move. Never had she been in such a position with Jane before, both literally, and in the sense that she was fully in control. She was pretty sure he would agree to anything she wanted right now. She wasn't used to possessing such power over him, but it felt good.

Her hands slipped under his shorts and settled on the tops of his thighs. He made an odd noise somewhere between a sigh and a grunt, and then he kissed her yet again, slowly and passionately, and his fingers, still underneath her top, began to creep around her torso until they cupped her breast.

This was starting to get out of hand. Call her unadventurous or boring, but she wasn't the kind of woman who had sex in the swimming pool of a cheap motel. She had some standards.

Or she'd used to, before Patrick Jane swaggered into her life and shot them all to hell.

She parted their lips, ignoring his protests. "I'm kind of tired of swimming," she said, quietly.

"But you look so good when you're wet," he replied.

She fished her hands out of his shorts again, and laid them flat on his chest, looking up at him through her lashes. Reluctantly, he followed suit, and unpeeled his hand from her breast.

"We should get some sleep," she said, not even convincing herself. "We have work to do in the morning."

"You're right," he said, with a solemn nod. "We should. But you know-" he went on, gently sliding one of the spaghetti straps of her top down her shoulder-"it's probably pushing three in the morning by now. Is there really any point?"

"Well, what else are we supposed to do in the middle of the night?" she asked.

"You're the boss," he breathed against her skin. "You tell me."

A narrow beam of light sliced across the surface of the water, hitting Lisbon right in the eyes. She gave a little cry of pain, as she raised a hand to shield them from the sudden brilliance.

"Hey!" came a stern voice, from the vicinity of the light. "Can't you people read?" The silhouette of the man from the front desk slowly became discernible as he approached the pool fence. "The pool closes at eleven. Do you have any idea what time it is?"

"Time for you to put that damn flashlight down before I beat you over the head with it," said Lisbon.

"She's not kidding," Jane advised him when he didn't immediately lower the flashlight. "I'd do as the lady says if I were you."

"I don't take orders from rule-breakers," said the young man, haughtily.

"Well how about arm-breakers?" asked Jane, and at his raised eyebrows, added, "Oh believe me, I've seen her do it, and far worse."

Even in the darkness, there was no mistaking the fear in the man's eyes at this comment, and he finally, mercifully, redirected the beam of light away. She sighed in relief.

"I need to ask you to get out of the pool now," he said. "I've been receiving complaints from other guests."

"Liar," said Jane, promptly. "What, were you watching us on a security camera or something? Can't afford to go rent a movie?"

"No!" the young man spluttered, horror-struck at this accusation. "I mean, yes. I mean, no! I mean…yes, I saw something on the camera but I wasn't watching. I was just seeing. There's a difference." He appealed to Lisbon. "Right?"

Part of her felt sorry for this kid. He looked barely out of his teens, and he had the slightly pinched look of someone who had grown up without a lot of food or affection. Had probably come from a broken home similar to hers and had finally moved away from home to try and start a new life, instead finding himself working reception at a dingy roadside motel. That was Saint Teresa speaking.

Human Teresa on the other hand, was actually rather irritated by the kid's impertinence. He had no idea what she was going through right now, and if she wanted to make out like a teenager with her insanely gorgeous consultant in a swimming pool, then damn it, that was what she was going to do, without being made to feel like a criminal.

"I'm going to have make a note of this incident," said the young man. "A breach of house rules attracts an extra fee, to be charged to both the perpetrators."

"You know," she said, looking around. "There's no sign around here saying that CCTV cameras are in operation." She narrowed her eyes. "How many other people have you filmed without their knowledge?"

She felt Jane's chest quiver with suppressed chuckles as he realized what she was trying to do.

"It's on the waiver!" the kid shrieked, panic-stricken. "Every guest signs it when they check in. You signed it! It's totally legal."

"Oh, I'm sure it's there," said Jane, picking up the thread. "Squashed into the fine print at the bottom with all the other the stuff you hope people will miss. It'd be a shame if everybody found out. In fact, they might be a little upset with you."

"Is this a threat?" he asked.

"Of course not," he said. "I'd never do such a thing, and right in front of a police officer no less," he said, gesturing to Lisbon.

It was her turn to snort with laughter.

"I'll tell you what," said Jane. "How about you waive those fees, and we won't mention the fine print to any of the other guests. Deal?"

The young man screwed up his face, battling with himself for a moment before finally sighing and muttering: "Deal."

"Excellent," said Jane. "Goodnight, then. And be proud of yourself, son," he said. "Of all the receptionists in all the cheap motels in all of California, you are the best." He beamed at him, as he turned and skulked away.

The moment the flashlight had bobbed out of sight, Lisbon felt a little guilty about what they'd just done. It also occurred to her that she'd remained wrapped around Jane for that entire conversation and she was glad for the darkness so he wouldn't see her embarrassment.

"That was cruel of us, and dishonest."

"Oh, it's no worse than anything we'd do to solve a case," he said, reassuringly. "A little blackmail is all in a day's work."

"You're going to hell," she told him, with a little smile.

"Meet you there," he said, with a wink. "Come on, the pool police will probably be back in a minute."

She took a moment to admire his form as he ascended the little flight of stairs out of the pool, water cascading off of him, and reached for a towel. She of course, had no towel, having not expected this little detour to the pool, and she wasn't looking forward to walking back to her room drenched all over, in a see-through top.

"You take this," he told her, holding it out to her. "I'll grab another one in my room."

She exited the pool herself, and accepted the offer gratefully, wrapping it around her shoulders. Gathering up her shoes and her room key, she followed him out of the gate, which clicked shut behind them.

The air was still as stifling as ever, already she was starting to feel warm again and was surprised not to see the water from the pool evaporating off her in little spirals of steam. Jane's hair was already starting to dry, little tendrils forming at the tips. She smiled; she'd kind of missed the curls. She'd always wanted to know what it would feel like to run her hands through them.

Once upon a time, she would have considered such thoughts as wildly inappropriate, but now, compared to what she'd spent the last half-hour doing, it seemed rather tame. She'd certainly touched a hell of a lot more of him than just his hair, and kissed a hell of a lot more of him than his cheek.

Their hands brushed together accidentally as they walked, seeming to unconsciously decide to head for his room first. They reached it within moments and she waited as he unlocked the door and stepped over the threshold.

"Well," he said, turning back to her once more. "That was refreshing."

"Yeah," she agreed. "That swim was just what I needed, in this heat."

His fingertips lightly grazed her cheek.

"I don't know about you, but I don't think I'll ever be able to look at a pool in the same way again," he said in a low voice.

"Me neither."

Clutching a wet, half-naked Patrick Jane to her under the moonlight certainly wasn't an experience she expected to forget anytime soon. Feeling his touch, his kiss, knowing that he'd wanted it just as much as she did, that he'd wanted her so badly; she'd never dared to imagine a night like this could happen.

"You don't want to come in for a while, do you?" he asked her, keeping his eyes locked on hers. "We could have some tea, or watch a movie."

She ignored his feeble excuses. He knew as well as she did what would happen if she went into that room. More kissing. More touching. Sex.

She couldn't pretend she didn't want to. She'd wanted this for years. And after their little romp in the pool, she'd never desired him more.

Naturally, he knew her answer before she could verbalize it, giving her a soft smile.

"I understand," he said, but his eyes betrayed his disappointment.

If she loved him less, she would have done it. If they could have sex and have it be only sex, she may even have done it before now. But she loved him too much, and she was too invested in their strange little relationship to be OK with losing him over something like this. She needed to be sure they were on the same page before they took things any further.

Hearing him telling Lorelei when he thought she couldn't hear him was not good enough. He needed to say it to her. Out loud. Face to face. Only then would she be convinced.

"You want to ride to the prison together tomorrow?" he asked. "Save on gas?"

She smiled. "Sure. I'll meet you at the front desk at seven. I'll drive."

"Of course."

A few stray water droplets still glistened on his chest and arms, each one a tiny little reminder to her of how they had got there. If she'd said yes to his offer, she might be kissing them all off him by now, or maybe they'd just be replaced by beads of sweat instead as things started to heat up. Those arms would be holding her close, touching her where they never had before. But that was neither here nor there. She'd made her decision and she was going to stand by it.

She stood on tiptoe again, and softly brought her lips to his in a goodnight kiss, feeling the urge to deepen it, but forcing herself to stop before she did.

She felt him watching as she walked away to her own room.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Jane didn't know what he'd expected to see when he went to meet her at the front desk in the morning. Some kind of evidence of their liaison, perhaps (he'd found a couple of nail marks on his chest this morning) or maybe just a new feeling in the air between them, some kind of atmospheric shift.

She was waiting for him when he arrived, and she smiled at him in greeting, the same as she always did. Her hair was flowing loose around her shoulders; she was wearing a new blouse (blue today) and pair of slacks, her crucifix in its usual place. She looked like she did every day, fresh and professional and eager to dive in to her work.

"Hey," she said. "Ready to hit the road?"

"Absolutely," he said. "Just give me one minute."

The young concierge from last night was manning the desk, accompanied by an older man who had to be his supervisor.

"How many times have I told you not to leave your post at night?" the older man was blustering angrily. "I checked the lobby footage and you were away from the desk for nearly twenty minutes last night!"

"But sir-"

"If I remember correctly, that's your third strike," said the older man. "And you know what that means."

"No! Sir, please. I need this job! I've got rent due this week and I'm already behind-"

"We'll talk about this later," his superior snapped, and then turned away from him. "Can I help you, sir?" he said, pasting on a wide smile that didn't reach his eyes as Jane approached the desk. Jane recognised the symptoms of a man disillusioned with his lot in life, resenting his job and everyone around him, but recognising he was now too old to do anything about it.

"Yes, actually. I just wanted to find out if your colleague here had any luck apprehending those people who were making such a racket in the pool after hours last night?"

"What?" said the supervisor as the young concierge's face turned white. "Kyle what is he talking about?"

"Nothing sir," said Kyle hastily. "Just a couple of people who misunderstood the opening hours on the pool. Could happen to anyone."

"Luckily, Kyle here had an eagle eye on the situation," said Jane. "You're lucky to have him, sir."

The supervisor narrowed his eyes suspiciously, and then turned them on Kyle, who shrank back in terror.

"This is why you left your post?" he asked.

Kyle nodded vigorously.

"I'm sure ensuring the comfort of your guests takes highest priority over anything," said Jane mildly.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Lisbon's mouth curve up into a gentle smile as she realized what he was doing, and felt a little glow of pleasure at the sight.

"Of course, sir," said the supervisor. "All right Kyle," he said grudgingly. "I guess you're off the hook. This time."

The young man's shoulders sagged in relief, and he shot Jane a look of deep gratitude as his boss left the desk, muttering something about contractors.

"That was nice of you," Lisbon said as they walked to the car.

Jane shrugged. "Seemed like the right thing to do. That boss of his is an asshole, and it was my fault the kid was outside last night. I owed it to him."

"Hey, I was there too," she gently reminded him.

"Yes," he said, with a little smile. "But you were coerced."

"A 'double dog dare' hardly counts as coercion," said Lisbon.

"It was my fault," Jane repeated, firmly.

She frowned as Jane again displayed his penchant for blaming himself for anything and everything. He seemed to think that any unpleasantness that happened around him was a direct result of something he'd said, or should have said. He carried too much responsibility on his shoulders.

"Most people wouldn't have done what you just did back there."

"Meh," he said.

She wished he would stop doing this; dismissing the good things that he did as if they were nothing, refusing any evidence that he could be more than just the man that hunted Red John. He was determined to think of himself as a bad person, determined to punish himself for the rest of his life. Yes he did crazy things, and yes, he made some stupid decisions, but she knew he was a good man, and he didn't deserve to make himself suffer the way he did.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

They met Agent Darcy just inside the prison grounds, after being subjected to the same extensive security checks as yesterday. Jane found that today's process took even longer than the first time; perhaps the guards were under the impression that being here two days in a row was an indication he was trying to stake out the place and orchestrate some means of escape for Lorelei. Lisbon had slightly less trouble getting in. It seemed her shiny badge was a lot more effective than a CBI identification card.

Darcy greeted them with a brisk handshake each, and once again began to lead them towards the interrogation room.

"Any new developments?" asked Jane, as they walked.

Darcy shook her head. "Same as ever. She ate, she slept, and she lay around and stared at the walls for a while."

"Did she seem any different after I'd spoken to her?"

Darcy considered this for a moment.

"The guards who took her back to her cell mentioned she seemed a little irritated, but that was all. Sort of understandable though," she remarked. "I'm sure the prospect of being locked in a room with you for two weeks would make anyone a little apprehensive."

He smiled indulgently at this, as beside him, Lisbon bit her lip.

Nothing more was said, until they reached the interrogation room. Again, he could see Lorelei already there waiting for him.

"OK Jane," said Darcy. "Do your thing."

"Good luck, Jane," said Lisbon, softly. "Don't let her screw with your head."

He wanted to tell her again that she should stop worrying, or squeeze her hand reassuringly. But of course, he couldn't do either of those things in front of Agent Darcy, so he merely shot her a little smile and signalled a guard to let him in.

Lisbon and Darcy adjourned to the viewing room, switching on the audio just in time to hear Jane greet Lorelei like an old friend. Red John's disciple also gave off every arrear of pleasure at the sight of her visitor. It kind of creeped Lisbon out to watch them interact so pleasantly, while knowing there was only one person on this earth that Jane despised more. He was so good at putting on a mask, and hiding his true self.

"Still here, I see," Jane said, taking his seat. "So far your white knight has failed to rescue his fair maiden. How disappointing for you."

Lorelei smiled serenely back at him. "He'll come for me," she said. "He's just waiting for the right moment."

"Naturally," said Jane. "He'll want to plan your death to his maximum advantage. Timing is everything, even in the world of serial killing."

To Lisbon, it seemed that Lorelei had been totally unaffected by his words. But as she saw a satisfied smirk creep slowly onto Jane's face, she knew that once again, he'd seen something she hadn't.

"If I were you," Jane went on. "I'd be thinking about getting my affairs in order."

He spoke in a tone that was light and pleasant, but even through a pane of glass and a distance of several feet, Lisbon could detect the glint of malice in his eyes that always appeared when he was closing in on someone. She hated it when he got that look in his eyes.

"Do you think he can make her talk?" asked Agent Darcy abruptly, drowning out Lorelei's response.

"I know he thinks he can do it," she replied, after a beat or two. "And it's not often that he doesn't achieve something he sets his mind to."

"I want to know what you think," Darcy pressed.

Lisbon felt her mouth twitch with suppressed annoyance. Part of her still wasn't entirely comfortable with Agent Darcy being so involved in their investigation. She accepted that the FBI would be all over this case now, but she hadn't forgotten how quick Agent Darcy had been to point the finger of blame at Jane during her investigation into the Panzer murder last year.

Admittedly, Jane had not acted like an innocent man. He may not have been the one that took the knife to Panzer, but he'd certainly laid the groundwork, not to mention tampering with evidence, proportioning blame on a dead man and telling lie after lie after lie to cover it up. Had she been in Darcy's position, she would have acted in the exact same way, but after all that time of trying to shield him from Darcy's clutches, it just felt a little awkward that they were suddenly on the same side.

Calling her to find out the details of where Lorelei was being kept had required her to swallow a lot of pride. She'd only done so after exhausting every other possible avenue of finding out herself, which had included calling in a number of favours, and extensive digging by Van Pelt. In the end, the only way she'd been able to face it was by reminding herself that Jane's wellbeing was so much more important than her feelings about Agent Darcy.

It seemed like she was always putting him first.

She watched him as he laughed scornfully at something Lorelei had said, his eyes fixed on her like a hawk after his prey. The expression was familiar, not just from previous interrogations, but there had been something reminiscent of it in his eyes last night as he seized her in the swimming pool for their second round of kissing.

"I don't think there's anything he can't do," she said, softly.

Jane continued to verbally jab at Lorelei for several more minutes; delighting in every little sign that showed him he was getting to her. Little by little, he was beginning to make her doubt Red John. With each day, he chipped away at the pedestal Lorelei had him on, and sooner or later it would come toppling to the ground.

But it seemed Lorelei was not to be beaten yet, for she pulled herself together and smiled at him again.

"It seems that whenever you come to visit me, Patrick, all we discuss is Red John," she said. "How about we talk about something you like for a change?"

He kept his face impassive, but his heart sank at these words. He had a feeling he knew where this was going.

"How is your Teresa getting on without you?" she said, viciously, and proving him right. "I assume you left her back in Sacramento. That's a little mean, Patrick. You already deprived her of your company for so long, was it really fair to take off again so soon?"

Resisting the temptation with difficulty to glance at the glass where he knew she must have been standing, Jane forced himself to keep his cool.

"Actually, she was thrilled to see the back of me," he said. "I think in light of my absence, she forgot how much she hates me being in the office."

"That's odd," said Lorelei. "Red John said she took it very hard when you ran off. One of our sources told us she was practically inconsolable for several days. Call me crazy-"

"You are crazy," he interjected.

"-But I'm not sure that's the way you treat somebody you claim to love, like you did last time. She must love you very much indeed, to be willing to put up with that sort of behaviour."

"Agent Lisbon is none of your concern," he said, calmly, but feeling his hackles rising with every word she spoke.

"Oh, but we-that is, Red John and I- have been very interested in her for quite some time. There was a reason he picked her to be your goodwill gift, you know. She takes your focus away Patrick; she gets your eye off the ball. And we can't have that. Since you've made it clear that you're unwilling to let her be a casualty for your cause, I think Red John might be thinking about taking care of that part for you. It's the kind of merciful thing he does…for friends." She emphasized the last word, with a delicate stress that made Jane's skin crawl once again with revulsion at this woman.

He signalled towards the camera on the wall. "We're done here," he said. "I'll be seeing you tomorrow."

"Looking forward to it already," she said. "And send dear Teresa my regards, won't you?"

Exiting the interrogation room, Lorelei's last words ringing in his ears, Jane wanted to punch something; not necessarily a person, a wall would do. Every time he thought he was getting somewhere with Lorelei, she opened up a new can of crazy that he had to try to negotiate. No doubt, she had been Red John's star pupil.

The door to the viewing room opened and Lisbon and Darcy stepped out of it, Darcy with a frown on her face, but he couldn't bring himself to look Lisbon in the eye.

"Interesting strategy, Jane," Darcy remarked. "You seemed to let her get the upper hand a bit in there; I gather it's all part of the grand plan?"

"Absolutely," he said, with a forced smile. "Same time tomorrow?"

"Where else would I be?" said Darcy, reaching for a pager clipped to her belt that was beeping madly. "Damn AG," she muttered to herself, reaching for it. "Come on, I'll walk you out."

Jane was grateful for her continued presence, as it postponed the moment when he'd have to talk to Lisbon. But all too soon, they were through the gates and back outside, where Darcy bade them goodbye and took her leave.

He could feel Lisbon's searching gaze on him all the way out of the prison. What must she think of him now? Was she now regretting what they'd done last night?

She unlocked the SUV, and slid into the driver's seat again. The moment he closed the door behind him, she turned the key in the ignition and drove off, soon leaving the supermax prison in their dust.

They didn't speak to each other again for the entire ride back to the motel. When she'd pulled back into her spot in the parking lot, she turned off the engine, but didn't get out.

"Jane," she said. "We need to talk. Really talk."

He sighed. "I know."

"Not now," she said, after a minute. "Come by my room tonight at six. We need to sort some things out."

TBC