Russo released Lisbon, and stepped away from her.

Lisbon released a breath, allowing herself to breathe deeply again. She touched the wound on her neck and her fingers came away sticky with blood, but she had a feeling that it looked worse than it actually was. It was only a nick, really. It hadn't hurt much—about as much as it had hurt to get her ears pierced when she was twelve. It had been her birthday, the last one she'd had while her mom was still alive, and her mother had been sitting next to her and holding her hand in the mall, smiling. Lisbon absently wiped the blood on her fingers onto the red dress.

"Now," Russo said to Lisbon and Jane. "I will permit you to stay together a little longer if you promise to be on your best behavior. What do you say? Can you promise me that?"

"We promise," Lisbon said quickly. She didn't know what was coming, but she was sure she didn't want Jane to be out of her sight for any length of time if she could possibly avoid it.

Russo looked at Jane, suspended between the figures of Gregson and Yager, his arms akimbo. "And you, Patrick? Do you promise to be a good little boy?"

Jane looked at him with pure hatred. "Yes," he spat venomously.

"If my friends release you, will you promise not to make any foolish attempts to attack me?"

Jane shot him an insolent glare. "I promise."

"I'm afraid that wasn't very convincing, Patrick," Russo said, unruffled. "You should know, however, that should you attempt to do violence to me, your efforts will not be without consequences. One of my friends will shoot you down like the dog that you are before you get within ten feet of me. They will take careful aim to ensure you are taken down, but are not killed. And then I will leave here with Teresa, and you will be powerless to stop me. Is that what you want to happen?"

"Jane." Lisbon's voice was a frightened plea. God, let him not make the stupid, reckless choice for once in his life, she prayed.

Jane looked at her and sighed. "I promise," he said, sounding defeated.

"Much better," Russo congratulated him. He walked to the edge of the stage. "I will see you both very soon."

He left them, and once he was out of sight, Gregson and Yager released Jane from their iron holds. He stumbled slightly when they let him go, and then staggered to Lisbon without giving them a backward glance.

He engulfed her in a hug the moment he reached her side, clutching her to him like a life line. She could feel his heart beating very fast in his chest. "I don't know if I can do this, Lisbon," he muttered, drawing in a ragged breath. "I don't know if I can watch him put his hands on you again."

She patted him on the back. "It's okay, Jane."

He pulled back and looked at her. "Things are decidedly not okay, Lisbon." His eyes fell on her neck. "God." He licked his thumb, and scrubbed frantically at the blood clotting there.

Lisbon bore this patiently, thinking about how Russo simply touching her hair was one of the creepiest things she'd ever experienced, but Patrick Jane giving her a spit bath seemed oddly normal. "Do you think the team is really okay?" she asked in a low voice.

"Yes," he said immediately. "He's decided not to hurt them, for some reason. Not now, anyway."

"I should never have let them come with us to the theater," Lisbon said, her insides twisting with fear as she considered the implications of her mistake. "They're vulnerable out there, without any backup. If he has as many men as you say he does, he could have them surrounded."

"They're fine, Lisbon. He's not interested in them. We're the ones in real trouble, here. Worry about us."

She glanced at Yager and Gregson, who had been joined by two more cronies. "Any ideas?"

He followed her gaze and shook his head. "Not yet. I think they'll really shoot me if I try anything, and I can't risk being separated from you. We're just going to have to wing it."

"Great plan," Lisbon remarked.

"It's time to go," Gregson announced, sounding positively gleeful about this next stage of the adventure.

Jane leaned close to Lisbon. "Watch out for her," he whispered to her. "She's jealous of you."

Lisbon wrinkled her nose. "Jealous?"

Jane shrugged. "You have Russo's undivided attention right now. The thing she craves most in the world."

Lisbon glanced at Gregson, who was walking towards them. "I can handle Gregson. You concentrate on not getting shot."

Gregson, Yager, and their two new friends herded them off the stage and frog-marched them down another series of halls and stairways. Lisbon sighed inwardly. One or two, she might have been able to disarm, if she could have engineered a moment when she had the element of surprise on her side. Four, not so much. Especially not when she had Jane to worry about, constantly getting in the way and likely to plant himself firmly in the crossfire at the most inconvenient time.

Eventually, they were taken through a door that led to an underground parking lot and were shepherded over to the only car in the lot, an older model mid-size sedan with no distinguishing features whatsoever.

Yager took out a key and popped open the trunk. Jane and Lisbon stared at it, non-plussed.

Gregson snickered. "Your ride."

Jane eyed the open trunk dubiously. "The trunk, really? Kind of clichéd, don't you think?"

Yager gestured with his gun. "Get in."

"I suppose this isn't really a circumstance where 'ladies first' has quite the chivalrous connotation for which I usually aim," Jane muttered to Lisbon.

Yager pushed him roughly towards the car. "Quit wasting time."

Jane climbed into the trunk and looked up at Lisbon. "Come along, my dear. It's quite cozy in here."

Lisbon sighed, and climbed in after him. Getting in was an uncomfortable affair involving far too many knees and elbows in awkward places as they tried to arrange themselves in the small space. Once Lisbon was wedged into the trunk in front of Jane, she glared up at Gregson. "Where are you taking—"

Gregson slammed the trunk door on them without further ceremony.

"—us," Lisbon finished.

She groped around in the darkness, looking for a way out to no avail. "No escape latch," she said mournfully.

"The car's too old," Jane agreed as the car shifted slightly from the weight of several individuals getting into it at once. The car doors slammed, and the engine started up. "They didn't start being required in American cars until 2002."

The car started moving. "This is great," Lisbon huffed. "Just great. God, I am so stupid. I should have tackled one of those guards when I had the chance."

"And then done what?" Jane asked, inching closer to her. "Fought your way past the other three single-handedly?"

"I don't know," she grumbled. "But anything would have been better than letting myself get tossed into the back of a trunk like a sack of groceries."

"I don't know," he said, putting his hand on the swell of her hip and giving it a light squeeze. "It's not so bad in here."

"Are you kidding?" she said incredulously, trying not to think about the warmth of his hand searing through the fabric of the dress.

She could feel him against her back as he shrugged one shoulder. Jane was the only person she knew who could actually shrug while lying curled up on his side in the back of a trunk. "No one's pointing a gun at you, or holding a knife to your throat. At this point, I'm counting that as a win."

"We're being transported to God knows where to be slaughtered like pigs," she said flatly.

"That is exactly my point. Once we get where we're going, it's going to be beyond bad. But as long as that trunk door stays closed, no one is actively trying to kill us. So for now, we're relatively safe."

"Being trapped in a tiny metal box for an indefinite period of time is not my idea of being safe," Lisbon grumbled.

"Say what you will. All I'm saying is, I'd rather be in here with you than out there with them," he said, wrapping his arm around her waist and pulling her snugly against him.

"What are you doing?" she said, flinching a little at the unexpected contact. They were already jammed in here like sardines, and he wanted to be closer?

He nuzzled her neck. "Just getting more comfortable."

Lisbon turned her head slightly. "We're locked in the back of a trunk, and you think now is a good time to snuggle?"

"Certainly. This may be my last chance in the world to cop a feel- I might as well take advantage of it."

Lisbon stiffened, wondering if this was his backhanded way of bringing up the whole 'her confessing to being in love with him' thing.

That was the last thing she wanted to talk about right now. Perhaps it was cowardly of her, but she really didn't want to spend her last moments alone with Jane discussing the status of their relationship. If Jane returned her feelings—really returned them, wholly and completely—frankly, she didn't want to know about it. Not when she was about to die. If Jane told her he loved her right now, she really didn't know if she would be able to face going to the grave with any semblance of the equanimity she'd been pretending so far. She didn't want to waste her last moments on God's green earth wishing for something that she could never have. She wanted to die a hero, not a tragic heroine.

And if he didn't return her feelings—well, she didn't want to know that either.

Of course, the way he'd looked at her in that theater when she'd told Red John she was in love with him didn't exactly imply that he was entirely indifferent to her. Not to mention his bizarre monologue about her freckles when she'd been standing before him half-undressed. Her brain detoured a moment, thinking about the look he'd had on his face when she'd stepped out of her jeans. She felt her skin flush with heat at the memory of it.

Come to think of it, the way he was holding her now didn't exactly fit the bill for a completely platonic attachment, either. She decided to blame the warmth of her skin on that, if asked. It was certainly contributing to the overall effect, at the very least.

Reminding herself sternly that this line of thinking was entirely unproductive, she focused on keeping things light. "I suppose I can't really object to you adopting a 'seize the day' type of philosophy under the circumstances," she said dryly. "Just don't get any ideas about seizing anything else."

He chuckled in her ear. "Not to worry, my dear. I will keep my embrace strictly within the bounds of propriety."

"All right then," she said, settling back against him more comfortably. After all, she reasoned, there was nothing wrong with a little self-indulgence before one faced the executioner's axe. And it was more comfortable. She wouldn't want to get a cramp.

He leaned over so his lips were hovering over her ear. "I have something to tell you," he announced.

"What's that?"

"Lisbon, do you know," he said conversationally, "that you have smelled amazing every single day for the past ten years?"

"What?" she said, startled.

"It's true. Even when you've tramping all over the country side looking at corpses all day, you always smell good."

Lisbon was thoroughly flustered. "Oh—stop with your nonsense."

"No, I don't think I will," he said thoughtfully. "You're going to be stuck with my nonsense until someone lets us out of this trunk, so you'd better get used to the idea."

"What idea?"

He nuzzled her hair. "The idea that now that I have you here as a captive audience, I'm going to tell you some of the things I should have told you a long time ago."

This was exactly what she didn't want to have happen. "Jane—" she said helplessly, in a desperate effort to forestall him.

"Sh," he said softly, completely undeterred. He squeezed her gently. It was a very reassuring touch. "Trust me, Lisbon."

God help her, she couldn't resist him when he asked her for anything when he spoke to her like that. "Fine," she said at last.

"Don't worry," he said. "I'll only tell you things I think you will be happy to hear. Little things."

Her heart was hammering in her chest. "Such as?"

"Hm," he hummed in her ear, considering. "For one thing, I like how you're always calm under pressure, but you get flustered if anyone pays you the tiniest compliment."

She flushed. "I do not."

"You do too. It's very endearing."

"Endearing?" Lisbon repeated, as though the word were foreign to her.

"Yes. You have many endearing qualities, you know," he informed her. "For example, the fact that you dance around to the Spice Girls when you're alone in your apartment is endearing. In fact, it's utterly charming."

"How the hell do you know about that?" Lisbon said, aghast.

He smiled into her hair. "I think you'll find I know a quite a bit more about you than you're aware, my dear."

"Like what?" Lisbon demanded.

"I know you always call your brothers on their birthdays, no matter what else is going on," he said. "I know you save newspaper clippings of book reviews for Cho for books you think he'll like. And that you always buy extra donuts with sprinkles from Marie's because you know they're Rigsby's favorite."

"They're my favorite, too. Maybe I'm just buying the extra ones for myself," Lisbon said with a challenge in her voice.

He laughed. "Liar. You like the plain glazed ones."

"Ha! Shows what you know. I really like the—"

"—chocolate maple ones," Jane finished with her. "Yes, I know. They're your secret favorites. But you rarely indulge yourself with something so rich first thing in the morning, so the plain glazed ones are your normal, everyday favorites."

She sighed. "Am I really so predictable?"

"You can predict the rise and fall of the tides, the waxing and waning of the moon, the rising and setting of the sun," he pointed out. "The movement of the earth in relation to the stars. That doesn't mean they aren't worth watching. The fact that you can predict them merely ensures you won't ever inadvertently miss out on something extraordinary."

"That's a very nice way to put it," she said. "Are you sure you don't just mean that I'm boring?"

"You are never that, my dear," he assured her.

"Hm."

"Your constancy is comforting," he told her affectionately. "I like knowing that when we go to a restaurant, you will always make eye contact with the waiter when you order, and you will always leave a twenty percent tip, even if the service was absolutely abominable."

"Besides," he went on. "As predictable as you are about some things, you always retain the ability to surprise me."

"When have I surprised you?"

"At least once a day since the day I met you," he told her.

"Really?" she said skeptically.

"Yes. To name one example, I was pretty surprised when you punched me in the face on our second case together," he said ruefully. "I knew you were pissed, but I confess I didn't see that right hook coming."

"That's something, I guess," she said, feeling somewhat mollified.

"I like that tough, badass side of you," he told her. "I like the way you are polite to local sheriffs, but if they give you any crap, you aren't afraid to put them in their place. I have to admit, the sight of you smacking down chauvinistic old school cops is kind of hot." He fingered the hem of her too-short dress. "Believe me, I didn't need to see you in a red dress to appreciate your feminine side, Lisbon."

Lisbon had never heard Jane use the word hot to describe anyone, let alone her. It was very unsettling. Not to mention having his hand on her thigh. She ignored the feeling of his fingers brushing along her skin and half turned her head towards him. "Are you seriously planning to carry on like this for the rest of the time we are in this trunk?"

"Yep."

"That could be hours!" Of course, if he didn't remove his hand from her thigh soon, she might spontaneously combust before then.

He did that same half shrug against her. "It's as good a way to pass the time as any. I mean, it's not like we can play the alphabet game from the inside of a locked trunk, can we?"

"I suppose not," she acknowledged grudgingly. The alphabet game sounded a lot safer than the one they were currently playing, though.

"Now, where was I? Ah, yes," he said, sliding his hand up her side and wrapping it securely around her waist again. "I was going to tell you how I like how you insist on doing all your paperwork immediately after a case is closed, just in case another one comes up in the meantime."

"You always tell me not to do that!"

"I don't think you should do it. But I still like that you think you should do it."

"You're saying you like that I'm responsible?" she said skeptically. That was a bit rich, coming from Jane.

"Just because I don't possess that quality myself, doesn't mean I don't appreciate it in others," he told her, nuzzling against her neck again. "For example, I like that when you looked around after your mother died and realized your family was falling apart, you didn't give up. You stepped up and did everything you could to look after your brothers and give your father what comfort you could despite the fact that he was one of the things that made the whole situation harder. And I like the way you protect the people on your team, no matter the cost to yourself."

She was silent, not sure how to react to the seriousness of his words. Her breath sounded loud in her own ears as she tried to calm herself down from the dual effect of the intensity of his words and the feeling of him nuzzling against her neck like that.

He cleared his throat and moved on, trying for a lighter tone. "Since we're on the subject of things I appreciate about you, I thought I should tell you I also love how you always glare at Ardiles when he uses the word 'henceforth.'"

"I do not glare at Ardiles," Lisbon protested, relieved to be on less dangerous emotional ground.

"Yes, you do. You get this pissy little glare on your face when he's being an insufferable ass. It's a very attractive look on you."

"Hmph," Lisbon sniffed. She did not glare at the assistant district attorney. That would be unprofessional. Although she did think it was ridiculous when he tried to use words like 'henceforth' in normal conversation.

"Speaking of which," he continued. "You know that teal green blouse you have? The one with the mother of pearl buttons?"

"Yeah," she said warily. "What about it?"

"It's my favorite."

"You have a favorite?" she said, perhaps more shocked by this than anything else he'd said so far.

"Yes. It's a close call between that and that wine-colored scoop-necked t-shirt you wear sometimes, but the teal green one looks amazing with your eyes. Which are plenty amazing by themselves, by the way." His voice turned serious again. "The kind of eyes a man could get lost in, if he's not careful."

Lisbon wasn't used to Jane telling her things like this. "Jane…"

"Let me do this, Teresa," he said softly. "It might be all we have left."

She swallowed. "Okay," she whispered.

Lisbon could tell this was important to him. So despite her reservations, she stayed nestled in his arms and let him recite a sweet litany of little things he'd noticed about her over the years. Lord knew Lisbon had enough firsthand experience with how observant Jane could be, but she had never realized just how closely he'd been paying attention to her all these years. Though she remained convinced it would be unwise to throw open the lid to Pandora's box entirely at this point in the game, she couldn't deny to herself that her heart secretly thrilled at each golden word that Jane let escape. She clutched each one to her heart desperately, unable to help herself. His words were nourishing a part of her that had long been neglected; after years of existing in a state of near starvation, now it was being offered a feast, and she couldn't resist consuming every honeyed morsel Jane let fall from his lips.

She closed her eyes and let his soft, sweet words wash over her as they sped down the road to their almost certain demise. Hesitantly, she brought her own hand up to cover his where it rested on her stomach. She took a deep breath, and allowed herself the luxury of savoring the feel of him, large and warm against her back, determined to appreciate every moment she had remaining to her for what it was: a precious gift from God. She might be traveling ever closer to the coldness of the grave, but after all, wasn't that always true, at some level? Right now, she had Jane curled up against her, murmuring heartbreakingly sweet things into her ear. For this moment, he was making her feel warm, safe, and loved. No one could take that away from her. No matter what happened next, she would have this moment to hold on to.