A/N: On behalf of waterbaby134, I extend our thanks to all those who reviewed/followed/favorited. We are so thrilled you enjoyed this fic, but it couldn't be as much as I enjoyed writing with my new friend, waterbaby. She was a joy to work with. If you haven't checked out her other stories, please do—you owe it to yourself both as a "Mentalist" fan, and a reader in general.

So, here is the conclusion, despite some of you having been confused that the last chapter was the end. Sorry about that. It was waterbaby's last chapter, but not the last of this story. Alas, however, the end is nigh, at least of "Scarlet Woman." A small note that part of this chapter has some slightly M-rated stuff, so please be advised. Thanks for reading!

Chapter 10: Conclusion

They had only been away from Sacramento a few days, but it seemed like an eternity. The long ride home had at first been unusually quiet, both of them still a little in shock from the unfortunate turn of events at the prison. Once again, Red John had not allowed anyone close to him to live to tell his tales. Neither of them was surprised, but it still was disheartening to say the least. It really was too bad about Darcy, though. She had come around to seeing things their way, had turned into a true ally. She hadn't deserved to die for that.

One more death on my head, thought Jane morosely.

He looked over at Lisbon, lost in her own thoughts as she peered out into the miles of seemingly endless desert. If she weren't clutching his hand across the seat, he would have felt like she was giving him the cold shoulder. One of the FBI investigators on the scene, a native of Sacramento, had agreed to drive Lisbon's SUV back to Sacramento so that she could ride home in Jane's Citroen. He wondered now if she was regretting that decision. Maybe she needed the time alone to think about what had happened, both at the prison and in his motel room. He didn't want to contemplate the latter.

"You want to stop for lunch?" he asked her, hoping to perk her up. "I've been seeing the signs that proclaim Granny Annie has great home cookin', fifteen miles ahead."

She didn't smile but she squeezed his hand, her eyes remaining on the scenery. "I'm not really hungry. Feel free to stop if you like."

He sighed, and brought her hand up to his lips. "You seem more depressed than I am. Remember, we did get something out of Lorelei. It's more than we had before, and it confirms suspicions I've had since the day we met Bret Stiles."

"You think Stiles is Red John?" she asked mildly, thinking of the wizened old leader of the Visualize cult. He seemed more like Obi-wan Kenobi than a serial killer, but she also sensed about him the conman, the manipulative cult leader that he was. He likely had his fingers in all kinds of illegal pies, but nothing they'd been able to prove beyond the bad feeling she had around him. He gave her the creeps, no doubt.

"No," Jane replied. "I've always thought Stiles wasn't the killing kind. I wouldn't put it past him to hire someone to do his dirty work, but Stiles, himself? No. I could see Red John as a former protégé, though. I mean, Red John's minions all exhibited some form of brainwashing, perhaps even had been victims of hypnosis, just like the crazies at Visualize. Just look at what Red John did to Kristina, for example."

Another lost soul to feel guilty about.

"Like the story of Lucifer," Lisbon suggested tentatively.

Jane turned to Lisbon to look at her in surprise. "Yes," he said, because he had just had that same thought.

"Lucifer was jealous of God," Lisbon continued. "He'd been God's angel-perfect, but he wanted to become just as powerful as God."

"'I will raise my throne above the stars of God,'" Jane quoted.

It was Lisbon's turn to look surprised. "Patrick Jane, quoting Scripture?"

He shrugged and gave her an ironic smile. "'The devil can cite scripture for his own purpose,' Lisbon, you as a Catholic should know that." She smiled back, certainly able to see the devil in Jane's eyes.

"You're confusing the Bible with Shakespeare now," she chided.

He shrugged. "An easy mistake."

She shook her head at his blasphemy. "According to the story, Lucifer was cast out of Heaven. Maybe that's what happened to Red John," she said.

Jane nodded. "He's taken Stiles's relatively peaceful though self-serving teachings and profaned them by brainwashing his own followers to do even more evil things besides putting money in his coffers. Red John kills to get Stiles's attention, or maybe to show him he has become, in fact, more powerful than his former master had ever aspired to be."

They were quiet for a moment, then Lisbon said, "What about the mystery surrounding the original founder of Visualize? Stiles was accused of murdering him. Maybe...he's not really dead."

Jane took his eyes off the road to look deeply into Lisbon's eyes. "This is one of the myriad reasons I love you, Teresa." His eyes returned to the freeway before them, and to the rugged mountains in the distance. "There was definitely something fishy with the old Timothy Farragut case, a cover-up somewhere. I've thought of this myself."

"But if that is the case, if Farragut is Red John, then that would actually mean Stiles is Lucifer in the story, and Red John is—"

"God," they said together. Neither of them was comfortable with that characterization.

"Interesting, isn't it?" said Jane, but they were both shaken at the direction their thoughts had turned.

"You've thought of all of this already, haven't you?" Lisbon asked him.

"Yes, but Lorelei's assertion makes it that much more plausible, don't you think?"

"It certainly gives us a new place to start," she said.

"That it does."

Silence filled the little car again, both of them overwhelmed by the enormity that discovering Red John's identity seemed closer than ever. The problem was, however, that it was always a one step forward, two steps back proposition with the serial killer. Just when they'd had a disciple actually willing to sing like a bird, Red John had taken that option away from them. But had he killed Lorelei so she wouldn't talk, or had he killed her because he knew what she'd said, what she'd agreed to say? Until they found Sam Aston, they might never have the answer.

Lisbon looked down at where his strong wrist rested on her jean-clad thigh, the slim, graceful fingers lacing with hers. She put her other hand on top of Jane's, so that now it was completely imprisoned between hers. It felt wonderful to know he was hers and hers alone.

She wasn't going to lie—she was glad Lorelei was dead, even though it had been a bit premature, and they might have missed out on some more insight into Visualize. Now that Lorelei was gone, they could put that scarlet woman in the past where she firmly belonged, her existence no longer hanging over them like the proverbial axe. At this, Lisbon felt a little more hopeful.

"On second thought," she said, breaking the silence as they passed yet another sign for the upcoming restaurant. "I could eat. You suppose Granny Annie makes a good club sandwich?"

She certainly knew the way to his heart. He gave her the super deluxe, knee melting Patrick Jane smile, as the sexy image of Lisbon eating his favorite sandwich shimmered in his mind like a mirage in the desert.

"I love you, Teresa Lisbon."

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Lisbon was awakened from a deep sleep with hot kisses on her flat stomach. She reached beneath the covers of her bed to find a soft, curly head moving lazily over her body. A muffled chuckle answered her shiver as his tongue dipped inside her navel. He followed that up with a quick kiss on her belly, and suddenly Jane's pillow-creased face appeared above the blankets to rest between her naked breasts. She laughed at his morning playfulness.

"Well, hello there," she said.

"Good morning, my love."

He kissed each breast hello and slid further up her body. She barely stifled a moan at the heavenly feeling of sleep warmed skin on skin. He settled heavily upon her and kissed her until she was breathless, her nails gently raking his back. He nearly purred against her lips, then broke away to nuzzle her neck.

"We have to get to work," she told him, as she felt the evidence below of how much he wanted her. "We'll be late as it is."

He nudged her legs apart with one furry knee. "So what's fifteen more minutes?"

She raised an eyebrow. "Fifteen? You think you can last that long, old man?"

Her eyes widened in surprise as he entered her with one smooth movement, then held still as she grew accustomed to his sensual invasion. He could actually see the pulse pounding in her neck before his eyes rose to meet hers. He swivelled his hips a little and she gasped in delight.

"Why, I take that as a personal challenge, Lisbon," he said, a bit breathless himself. "As a matter of fact, let's make this a bet."

She lifted her hips and he closed his eyes at the pleasure that hummed through his body. "I bet you'll succumb at least...five minutes before I do." He noted the time on the clock radio.

"What? No way," she protested, tightening her Kegel muscles around him. His eyes literally crossed and she laughed.

"And don't even try to fake it," he warned, pulling out a bit before plunging again into her heated softness. She moaned in reaction. "Because I'll know."

In the end, the bet was a moot one. They both lasted exactly ten minutes by Jane's reckoning. When he could focus on the clock again, that is.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxx

Later, in Jane's car on the way to CBI headquarters, he noted with satisfaction that Lisbon hadn't needed to put on any makeup that morning. Her eyes were bright and her cheeks flushed; she looked like she'd spent a day at a spa rather than a morning rolling between the sheets with him. He imagined he looked much the same.

"What are we going to tell the rest of the team?" Jane asked.

"Well, I already updated Cho about what happened to Lorelei and Darcy. I'm sure he's filled in the others."

"That's not what I meant, and you know it. What are we going to tell them about us?"

"Us?"

"Lisbon," he all but growled. "Quit being deliberately obtuse. Do you want to go public with our relationship, or will we have to hide our love and have secret trysts in the attic?"

She wrinkled her nose. "Too dusty. I've always had a certain fantasy about your couch, however."

Jane's eyes widened and he involuntarily swerved the car a little. A neighboring car honked.

"Seriously?" he managed, righting the vehicle and waving sheepishly at the man he'd nearly sideswiped.

"Keep your eyes on the road, Romeo. You had to know, Mr. Mentalist, I've wanted you for quite some time. I just sort of...suppressed those feelings though, for the sake of our jobs."

"Which is why you're hesitant about letting everyone know we're together." He paused a moment, then: "What exactly were we doing in this couch fantasy of yours?"

"I'll just have to show you sometime," she said with a promising smile.

He physically shook himself. "But you're changing the subject, or getting me to anyway. Come on, Lisbon, I need to know how to behave. You know me, if you don't set boundaries..."

"Ha! You wouldn't know a boundary if it jumped up and bit you in the ass." She sighed. "Fine. We tell them."

"We do?" he asked, surprised. "Confession wasn't exactly good for the souls of Rigsby and Van Pelt."

"True, but they were breaking the rules, at least the explicit ones."

"What does that mean? Speak English, woman, not government-ese."

She blushed. "I uh, looked into this some time ago. You are not actually a CBI member; you're a consultant. The regulation about romantic relationships specifically applies to CBI team members. It says nothing categorically about consultants getting involved with team members. It just confirms what I've always thought about you, Jane—you're definitely not a team player."

"Hey," he protested. Then he grinned, analyzing her words more carefully. "First, the fact that you looked into this some time ago tells me you've been pondering a relationship with me even before Death Valley. Secondly, I am too a team player. I'm always asking for the team's input and help, and I frequently give the same to them."

"When it's convenient," she countered, ignoring his other rather conceited contention.

"True," he admitted. When she was right, she was right. "But there might be some ambivalent feelings from them, maybe some jealousy on the parts of the former lovers on the team. You ready to deal with their possible resentment?"

"I know it seems like hypocrisy, but we haven't broken any rules; they did. And they're not together anymore by their own choice. One of them could have chosen to go to a different unit, but they valued their jobs over their relationship. I don't plan to give up so easily."

"And why is that, Agent Lisbon?"

His voice had gone velvety soft as he looked over at her, so beautiful in her stubborn defense of their new bond.

"Because I love you, you idiot," she said in exasperation.

"Even more than your job?"

"Now you're just fishing for compliments." She gestured impatiently toward the intersection ahead. "Go, will ya? The light is green."

"Yes, Boss."

She shot him a dirty look at his sarcasm, but both of them had silly grins on their faces the rest of the trip.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Upon their arrival after nearly a week away from HQ, Lisbon and Jane had spent some time filling in the team on the events surrounding Lorelei's confession and the subsequent deaths of Red John's girl and Susan Darcy. They were all understandably angry and frustrated, and Van Pelt sent sympathetic glances at Jane especially, whom she'd always seen as the tragic hero in this story.

At any rate, while everyone was taking a coffee break, Jane confronted Lisbon in her office, pulling the door closed behind him. He made his way to her white couch and sat down, sipping his tea from the familiar old teacup.

"I missed you, old girl," he said to—in his expert opinion—the most perfectly balanced cup.

Lisbon looked up from her own cup, at first thinking he was talking to her. As she watched from beneath her lashes how he held his cup and saucer, her heart warmed at the sight of him in her office, after so many months when she had missed his irritating presence desperately.

"Your cup is a she?"

"Well, of course. Men tend to consider their favorite inanimate objects female. Cars. Boats. Tea cups."

She smirked. "Uh-huh. Did you name her too?"

"Naturally. Lisbon, meet Old Blue." He toasted her with the turquoise cup and a smile.

She shook her head. She'd just grabbed whatever mug was nearest at hand, in this case one from the dish drainer in the break room. Men were so funny.

"I thought that was your car's name."

"No, Lisbon. That's Betty."

"Why Betty?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Doesn't she just look like a Betty?"

"Yes, come to think of it. It's looks like something Betty Rubble would have driven."

"You take that back."

She grinned but refused. The truth hurt sometimes.

They sipped their hot beverages quietly, Jane contemplating the woman he'd missed so desperately during his exile in Vegas. He was happy to be back in the place where he'd now realized had become home to him. And despite the failure with Lorelei, he was the happiest he'd been in nearly ten years.

"You're stalling," he said.

She didn't play dumb this time. "It's too soon."

"We've loved each other for years, Lisbon. I'd say its long past due."

He let the weight of that bit of truth settle around them, and he was pleased she wasn't denying it. Their relationship had evolved over the years from friendship to affection, from need to desire, each of those characteristics an intrinsic part of the whole that bound them together now. It was love, had always been love, in one incarnation or another. She could see that now as well as he.

He watched as she made up her mind and set down her coffee before getting resolutely to her feet. She walked to the couch and reached out a hand to Jane. Without hesitation, he set down his beloved cup to grasp it as she pulled him up to join her.

"You're right; let's do it now," she said firmly.

"Well, if you're sure..." he teased, but she ignored him. All at once, Lisbon was a woman on a mission.

She pulled him by the hand all the way into the bullpen, and he couldn't help the answering tug of the smile on his lips as they entered the room. Cho, Rigsby and Van Pelt were just settling back to work, steaming mugs on their desks.

"So, uh, guys...Jane-Patrick and I have something to say."

Jane immediately zeroed in on Cho, whom he could tell was experiencing the same déjà vu he was. The younger man's dark eyes widened a fraction in anticipation of the forthcoming announcement, and when Jane gave the man a slight nod of affirmation, low and behold, Kimball Cho grinned.

"Teresa and I are...lovers," Jane finished with a hint of amusement, half expecting a jab to his side with her elbow at the corny description of their relationship. She only held more tightly to his hand.

Van Pelt and Rigsby looked at each other.

"No freakin' way," exclaimed Rigsby.

"Believe me, Rigsby, there is a freakin' way," replied Jane dryly.

"How?" Van Pelt asked inanely. She blushed. "I mean, I know how. But...how?"

"It's a long story. Nevertheless, I felt there was a greater need for honesty among us all lately, and I felt we should just get it out in the open. I promise you, it won't affect our jobs. Jane and I will continue to act as professionally as ever."

She gave Jane a meaningful look, letting him know with one glance she would brook no hanky panky at the office. He did raise an eyebrow at the characterization of his past work behavior as being professional.

Then, to Jane and Lisbon's surprise, Rigsby reached into his pocket, pulled out his wallet, and handed a twenty-dollar bill to Cho.

"Wait," said Lisbon. "You all knew?"

"Suspected," said Van Pelt. "And don't forget, you owe me too, Wayne."

"I'll have to visit the ATM," he mumbled.

Lisbon looked at each member of her team in turn, as completely blindsided as she had been when Van Pelt and Rigsby had made a similar announcement two years before.

"We are detectives," said Cho blandly, what was left of his smile still glinting in his eyes.

"Taught by the best, Boss," said Van Pelt.

All eyes went to Rigsby then. "Well, except for him," teased Cho. "He's still more or less clueless."

"Hey!"

"And just so you know, we're happy for you both," said Van Pelt. It was good to see someone clearly blissful and in love for a change.

"You don't feel any resentment toward us?" asked Jane gently of the redhead.

She shook her head. "The regs are different for you two; I looked it up."

"You did?" asked Lisbon, still incredulous.

Van Pelt shrugged. "It was a long time coming, Boss. I think we probably knew the potential before you did. Well, except for Wayne..."

"Shut up," said the much-maligned arson expert good-naturedly.

"Anyway," Van Pelt continued. "If it wasn't clear before, Jane's time away in Vegas crystallized it for us. You were acting...heartbroken, like you'd lost someone you loved instead of just a colleague."

Lisbon felt Jane's slight squeeze of her hand in renewed apology. Impulsively, Van Pelt rose from her desk, enclosing Lisbon and Jane in turn with a warm hug.

"I'm truly happy for you both," she whispered, and she wiped at a tear self-consciously.

"Thank you Grace," said Jane, knowing what that admission must have cost her, one as unlucky in love as he had once been.

Lisbon released Jane's hand in an attempt to return to the so-called professionalism she'd espoused to. Jane left her side to settle on his own couch, and she ignored the soft pat he gave to the leather in invitation, a teasing sparkle in his eyes. She blushed at the subtle reminder of her fantasy, but clapped her hands softly together, looking around at her beloved team.

"Now, break time's over. Let's get back to work."

"What's up next, Boss?" asked Cho.

"Visualize," she said. "I want everything you can dig up about Timothy Farragut, and the possible whereabouts of Sam Aston," she told them. "Jane and I are off to talk to Bret Stiles."

Jane nodded. "Van Pelt seems to have formed a special new rapport with the good guru. Maybe she should join us."

Lisbon agreed. "Good idea. You think you can resist his religious overtures, Van Pelt?"

"Piece of cake," she replied, thrilled to be in on this new Red John lead. She had her own personal score to settle with the serial killer.

Lisbon and Jane's eyes met. They'd use the drive to Visualize to run their new plan by Van Pelt. Perhaps she was ready for a little undercover work of her own. Lisbon had resisted Jane's idea at first, but on their drive home from Death Valley, Jane had made his case, and slowly they'd fleshed out a satisfactory plan of action that hopefully would keep Grace out of too much danger.

"You think he'll talk?" asked Cho sceptically. Stiles was as wily as a fox, in his estimation.

Jan shrugged. "Who knows with Stiles? But he does owe me a favor; perhaps it's time I collected."

Lisbon tossed Van Pelt a set of keys. "Go pull the van around to the front," she told the young woman.

"Yes, Boss."

When she'd gone, Jane and Lisbon followed slowly after to the elevator, stopping briefly in her office to pick up her sidearm.

"Bringing out the big gun, eh?" Jane teased.

"If I'm going to be talking to another of Red John's friends, I want to be armed." She strapped on her shoulder holster and positioned the Glock, then slipped her black blazer jacket over it.

Jane's face turned serious. "Stay close to me," he told her, though without a weapon of his own, he didn't consider what good he could possibly do if she were in trouble. He just knew he'd feel better if she stayed in his sight.

She smiled reassuringly. "I will, if you can make me the same promise." And by her tone he knew she meant that he was never again to leave on some damn fool escapade into danger. Not without her, anyway.

"I promise. Never again, Lisbon," he said, already breaking her rule about remaining professional in the office by standing in her personal space.

His lips met hers lightly, lovingly sealing his promise with a tender kiss.

Epilogue to follow...

A/N: It has been a pleasure writing this fic with waterbaby. Who knows, maybe we might collaborate again someday. I suppose it depends on the response, hint hint. Thanks again for your support of this story. We love you all!