Title: In the Cards

Disclaimer: I own nothing to do with The Mentalist.

Author's Note: I'm so sorry for the delay in updating! Real Life Holiday Syndrome descended with a vengeance. Hosting Christmas is hard work! Thanks for hanging in there with me and for all your encouraging reviews! This is a short chapter but it should give you a clue as to where this is going. Unless my muse starts throwing curve balls again...

Chapter 12

Lisbon fought down rising panic, her mind racing, trying to fill in the gap in her memory. What she was seeing made no sense to her. The team should be hours away; how had they known to come? And why was Jane's mouth smeared with bright red lipstick? He looked like he'd stopped to make out with a hooker on his way back. How had he gotten away from Mancini, anyhow? "Where's Mancini?" she asked, grabbing onto a simple question.

Jane looked—distressed was the only word she could come up with. That didn't make much sense either. "I don't know," he said. "Miles away from where I left him, though, certainly." He paused, then asked, "Lisbon, do you remember why we left?"

"Yes," she snapped. "Because instead of alerting me that he was about to make a move, you let him catch me sleeping, literally! All so you could get rid of me for your big showdown!" But then what was he doing here, she wondered. He couldn't have killed Red John so quickly. And he didn't look like he'd been in a struggle of any kind.

Jane's expression cleared a little. "Good," he said.

"There was nothing good about it!" She wanted to hit him, but she realized she had a white-knuckled grip on his biceps. She was probably hurting him. She should let go. Why wasn't she letting go?

"Lisbon, that was almost four hours ago," Jane said.

The way he kept saying her name was beginning to annoy her. It was like he thought she might not be in her right mind.

Wait. Four hours?

She felt her jaw drop. "Why can't I remember? As far as I know, you just left a minute ago!" But that did explain how the team was here and why he was back. He hadn't abandoned his plan and rushed back to her; he'd had his meeting and somehow survived. "What happened? Did you kill Red John?"

She suddenly became aware that her head hurt. Blinking, she tried to focus on what Jane was saying.

"It was a feint. He didn't want me; he wanted to talk to you, Mancini said. But he did more than talk to you, by the look of it." Jane's hands wrapped around her elbows, his thumbs rubbing gently as if to soothe her. She wished he'd rub her temples instead and relieve her headache, but she still hadn't been able to let go of him, so he couldn't reach her face. "What's the last thing you remember?"

"You left," she said slowly. "I had a hard time getting the burner phone out from under the mattress, but I did. I texted Cho." She looked over at Cho, and he nodded at her. His steady presence seemed to help her head clear. "And then—" Her head throbbed, and she closed her eyes and gritted her teeth.

"Lisbon, don't think about it. Think about something else, quickly," Jane urged her. "And breathe, for God's sake."

She sucked in a lungful of air and tried to follow his other instructions, but her head was splitting, and she couldn't think at all. Her hands finally released Jane and went to her head, rubbing against the agony. His hands covered hers, and after a moment he managed to pry one away from her head, his fingers applying pressure between her thumb and forefinger. It hurt, but her headache began to recede.

"Lisbon," he kept saying, his soothing tone carrying an underlying note of worry. "Listen to me. Listen to my voice, and breathe. In…and out."

She blinked at him and obeyed, her eyes watering in relief as the blinding pain released her. He still had hold of her hand, and he gave it a comforting squeeze, smiling at her. But when she looked in his eyes she saw nothing to smile about. "What's wrong with me?"

"It's okay," he said gently. "Question time is over. There's nothing you need to remember."

His fingers moved along her hand, massaging until she relaxed. He really could do amazing things with his hands, she thought. One day soon she wanted to find out what he'd do if she gave him free rein to touch her. She shivered a little, then brought herself up short. She should not be thinking thoughts like those while sitting on the same bed as Jane, wearing only a lace teddy and a robe. She felt her face heat up and knew she was turning beet red.

"Grace is going to stay with you while you change," Jane said, moving to stand.

She reflexively gripped his hand hard, then forced herself to let go. To cover her embarrassment, she snapped, "And who put you in charge?"

Jane grinned at her. "I have absolutely no objection to you staying just as you are," he said, glancing down at where her robe had slid away from her legs when she'd sat up. "But I think you'll feel better once you've changed."

Lisbon hastily pulled the robe back over herself. Cho and Rigsby were already headed for the door, but Jane paused to give her a knowing smirk before following them.

mmm

Jane pulled the door closed behind him and turned to face his friends, not bothering to hide his concern. No breezy facade was going to fool them at this point, he knew.

"What did he do to her?" Cho demanded.

"I'm not sure yet. But this isn't over. He planted more in her head than just that little fairy tale scene," Jane said. "For one thing, trying to remember him causes her pain."

"So she can't give us any clues," Rigsby guessed.

"Yes. And to make sure I don't change my mind," Jane said. "I'm betting any mention of him gives her a headache. If she keeps being exposed to it, the pain may get worse. It could eventually lead to serious health issues if we push it."

"Can you do something about it?" Cho asked.

Jane shook his head. "Trying to undo what he's done would make things worse. He would have planted something to prevent me being able to do that. But there's something you can do."

"Name it," Cho said immediately.

"The Red John case has to be turned over to the FBI. All the files, everything. She can't ever come into contact with any of it again. You should do it while she's on leave."

"She's taking leave?" Rigsby sounded skeptical.

Jane grimaced. "She's had a serial killer messing with her mind. I think a few days off are in order, so we can try to figure out what he's done. She might be a danger to herself or others right now."

Cho said, "You're really doing this? Just letting it all go, just like that?"

"It's him or Lisbon," Jane snapped. "Unless that changes, yes, I'm letting it all go. I owe her that."

"Yeah, you do," Cho said. "But how are you going to get her to agree?"

"I don't have to. She won't even ask about it. Her mind will try to protect her."

They were still unconvinced. Rigsby said, "This is a con, right? We just pretend to give up until we figure this out. We keep a copy of the files for later, somewhere she won't find them."

Jane shook his head. "No. This has to be for real. He has friends everywhere, and he'll kill her if he thinks I'm not serious about this. Besides, he'll have programmed her to make sure I'm not sneaking around."

"How do you know?" Rigsby asked.

Jane grimaced. "It's what I'd do."

"Jane?" Grace's voice sounded urgent, and Jane pushed the door open again immediately. Lisbon was dressed in dark jeans and one of his favorite dark green blouses, sitting on the chair and shaking like a leaf. "I don't know what's wrong with her."

Jane knelt by the chair, reaching for Lisbon's hands, which were twisted in a painfully tight grip. There was a mighty struggle going on in her head, he saw. Whatever Red John was trying, it wasn't something Lisbon was okay with. "Lisbon, it's all right. I know this isn't under your control. Whatever you need to do, nobody will blame you."

"I can't," she gritted out.

"You'll feel better once you do," he told her.

Whatever it was she was trying to stop herself from doing, his presence didn't seem to help. He was just wondering if he should move away when she spoke, sounding as if the words had been torn from her throat. "Hold me."

"Okay," he said immediately. "Lisbon, it's okay. This is a post hypnotic suggestion, not a character flaw." He carefully put his arms around her in a nice, platonic, suitable-for-the-observation-of-coworkers hug. She shuddered and flung her arms around him in a desperate, rib-cracking embrace.

"It's okay," he kept saying, although he knew neither of them believed it. He just hoped Red John didn't know her well enough to do something truly diabolical, like make her afraid to let him out of her sight. She'd go crazy if she couldn't get a break from him now and then.

He became aware that her left hand was moving, and he tried to pull away enough to move his own arm, but her grip was implacable. "Get my gun!" he cried in sudden alarm.

Grace, Cho, and Rigsby jumped forward, and one of them (Jane couldn't see who) pulled the gun out of his pocket. They all stepped back, and Grace went to pick up Lisbon's own weapon, sitting on the floor nearby.

"I wasn't going to shoot you, idiot," Lisbon muttered in his ear.

He chuckled, hating the nervous edge he could hear in it. "Not to kill," he agreed. "That's not in your character. But admit it, there've been plenty of times you've wanted to maim me."

"I have better plans for you," she retorted.

Jane swore he could feel his heart actually stutter, then sink. Lisbon making suggestive remarks in front of the others was definitely not normal. Therefore, it had to come from whatever Red John had done. And that was worrying in the extreme. But it made a certain bleak sense: whatever it was hadn't been aimed at her as herself, but as someone Jane cared about. The relationship was the real target. Red John wouldn't have been able to turn Lisbon against Jane or make her forget him in the limited time available, so what if he'd gone the other way, playing on her feelings and pushing her into things she wanted but wasn't really ready for? That would lead to disaster for them both. And it would be almost impossible for Jane to fight, because those were things he wanted too.

He needed to be careful. He needed to help her true self get the upper hand in her internal struggle. "What do you want to do next?" he asked.

She gave a sexy little chuckle that ended in a choke, and he felt her tense up again. "Okay, forget I asked," he said. "Let's get you home." She'd feel better on her turf, he knew.

She nodded against his shoulder. "I'm all packed," she said, sounding a little more like herself.

mmm

They decided to leave Mancini's vehicle for the FBI to deal with, so they piled into the SUV Cho had driven up. Rigsby called shotgun, so Jane found himself in the backseat with Lisbon pressed up against him, closer than strictly necessary. It wasn't like Grace took up that much space, after all. While he had to admit he was enjoying the contact, it was another sign that something was very wrong with her.

He hoped desperately that the point of this was simply to keep him focused on Lisbon and away from any temptation to go after Red John. But that seemed too simple. Though it was certainly true that he would have a hard time focusing on anything else while Lisbon was in trouble.

He was looking out the window, thinking hard, but he noticed that Lisbon was leaning more heavily against him, her head tucked against his shoulder. She was either exhausted or in pain, or both. She was just stubborn enough to torture herself by trying to remember Red John despite being told not to.

He glanced at Grace, who was looking at Lisbon in concern but met his eyes when he turned his head. His expression must not have reassured her, because she turned away after a moment to look out her window. Jane took the opportunity to slide his arm around Lisbon and settle her more comfortably. While he didn't think anyone in the car remained in any doubt about his feelings, he didn't want to expose Lisbon to any more embarrassment than was unavoidable.

Unfortunately she didn't seem to share that goal at the moment. At first he was delighted when she slid her arm around him, but then her hand began to wander. He grabbed it before she could get past his belt and tucked it into his own, hoping a little hand holding would satisfy her.

He argued with himself for a few minutes, debating the reasons behind her behavior. After all, she had to be exhausted, both physically and emotionally. She'd been up most of the night and had only a short nap this morning. Then she'd found herself handcuffed to her bed while her would-be boyfriend held a gun to him, knowing all the while that Jane could have prevented the situation but hadn't. She'd admitted she loved him thinking it might be her last chance, and then she'd had to deal with meeting Red John while she was unable to defend herself. He didn't know how the serial killer had managed to get her to cooperate, but it couldn't have been easy for her. Then she'd lost four hours of her memory.

Really, it would be more surprising if she hadn't become clingy and emotional. It made perfect sense that she didn't want him out of her sight. Even on a normal day, she preferred to know where he was at all times.

And maybe the fact that she couldn't keep her hands off him was just some expression of her unconscious desires? He tried to tell himself that her exhaustion and emotional state accounted for her lowered inhibitions, but he'd seen Lisbon in some pretty intense situations. She got more locked down when the stakes were high, not less.

He didn't have long to decide how he was going to handle this, because there was no way she was letting him leave once they got to her apartment, even if he wanted to. And once they were alone, there would be no excuses left.