See, I wasn't lying about quick updates.

II. Red Badge

Jane

Once Rigsby and Cho take away the homicidal psychiatrist, it's just you and Lisbon, standing alone in her living room. She only pretended the drinking part earlier, so you know she's one hundred per cent sober.

That's why when her mouth suddenly covers yours, shock takes over and you don't even dare to move. Then she recoils as suddenly as she's attacked you, and the sight of her makes you stare, still motionless, for a minute.

She's got a look you've only barely caught a glimpse of twice before, when she mentioned her recent memory loss earlier that week, and about a year ago after she asked an alcoholic father to get help for his kids' sake.

You've always had trouble reading her. Not on simple things such as her attempts at lying – who wouldn't see through that – but on her deeper feelings, on the details that concern her past… She's usually something of a mystery.

But what you see on her face now, in the watery drops at the corners of her gorgeous eyes, in the redness of her cheeks contrasting with the paleness of her skin, the slightly quivering lips that tell you she desperately wants to say something but doesn't really know how; all of it is like someone finally handed you the proper glasses to really see Teresa Lisbon.

No more blurry vision of her strength and questioning how much of it is a facade, no more thinking she's some kind of invincible wonder woman who never gets scared or needs comfort after she's been hurt as badly as she's been this week, also, no more wondering how she feels about you. It's all here.

It's a precious gift, and the only way to do it justice would be to allow yourself the exact same openness, to let her see you too.

And you want to. You want her to know you, to know about your childhood and Angela, about how you ran away together and the people you conned when you weren't the best version of yourself, and everything there is to be said about Charlotte.
You want Lisbon to know that she's saved your life long before she stopped the first bad guy who tried to shoot you, by simply accepting to work with you. You so badly want her to realize that her feelings aren't unrequited.

But Red John is still out there, and you can't allow anything else to ever get in your way to find him.

That's why, as much as you want to, you can't be honest with Lisbon. She realizes something's wrong too, as she starts to move away.

Only, even if this is probably a terrible idea and she's going to hate you – or worse and more likely, herself – for it tomorrow, you can't leave her like this. You'd both deserve so much more in other circumstances, and you can't not offer anything to her, to yourself. To the two of you, really.

So you smile that smirk she loves to hate, and she stills when your hand rises up to grab her neck softly. You play with the curls on the base of her skull and feel the shivers it sends down her spine.

You pull gently at her head until she's kissing you again, and only let go when you need both hands to undress her.

You know it doesn't surprise her, when you don't even pretend to wait until she's asleep to leave.

And it doesn't surprise you when she reminds you in the morning that her team can't really help you – after all, they don't have the Red John case anymore – and therefore you should probably move on.

You recall that conversation a few weeks ago when she admitted she was happy, on some level, that Bosco was getting the case. Her reason for that had been her fear of you losing your mind after the Tanner incident.

It's almost funny how today, it's her own sanity she's protecting by pushing both this poisonous case, and you, away from her.

Not that you resent her for that decision. Back then she'd said that you'd gotten too close, and though at the time she'd meant to Red John, you know it now applies to the two of you.

You don't regret saving her life, and you don't regret sleeping with her.

And that's the whole issue: you already lost, no, killed your best way to get to Red John because you simply had to protect her, and now you've betrayed that promise you'd made to yourself to never be close to another woman ever again, for her.

And you cannot bring yourself to regret any of it.

Teresa Lisbon is changing your order of priorities; there's a part of you that tells you it could be a good thing.

You take a deep breath as you listen to the other part, the one that makes you storm into Virgil Minelli's office with a fake smile and an even faker self-confidence to offer your consulting services to Bosco's team.

Lisbon

You have no idea how the hell Jane convinced Minelli to assign him to Sam's team, but you do hear more frequently than you'd care to, how unhappy it makes your former partner.

Bosco tries to understand the reason you so easily let go of both the man and the investigation, and after a few weeks of stubborn silence on the subject, he seems to finally get it.

He puts a sympathetic hand on your shoulder and tells you you did the right thing – about the case, he obvioulsy means – and since you'd rather not have an actual breakdown in the office, for once you swallow your urge to yell at his patronizing tone.

Things don't get better between Jane and his new team to say the least, and the daily bets on which member will shoot him first almost break your resolve to avoid him at all costs. Except, you're pretty sure he's avoiding you too, so what's the use?

You soon realize that Rigsby, Van Pelt and Cho never take a part in those, and after you take notice of the careful eyes they lay on you every time his name is mentioned around the bullpen, you wonder how long, or not, it took them to figure it out. Maybe the lingering looks you throw in the parking lot despite yourself to check that his car is still there on every morning tipped them off – or could it have been the cup of coffee that's always waiting for you in your office at perfect drinking temperature, no matter when you get here yourself?

It's not that you're mad at him, Jane is – was? – a friend, and that night, he only tried to comfort you the way you wordlessly asked him to. But even though you know he was trying to help, the moment his hands touched your bare skin you realized, without being able or willing to stop what was happening, that it was the worst idea either of you had ever had.

Because there was no way you'd be able to stop your feelings for him from ruining your working relationship after this, and there was no way he could possibly be feeling the same. So instead of the pathetic agent in love with her revenge-obsessed consultant you could see yourself becoming, you opted for the painfully usual, noble and unbreakable Saint Teresa mask, who just had to let go of a team member for professional reasons.

It doesn't really matter that you didn't fool him, as long as you managed to partly fool yourself.

You focus on your own work as best you can, until one day you hear rumors that something new, something Red John related, happened. It's not any of your business anymore; Bosco still immediately gives you the address when you ask for it – and that alone makes your hands shake with dread.

By the time you get there, Sam informs you that they found two bodies, and although you don't give a damn about how they'd know that, it appears one of them is the famous serial killer.

Bosco tries and fails to hide his pride when he adds, as your eyes fall on the second corpse, that at least we finally caught Red John!

Those are the last words you'll ever allow him to speak to you.

Your off duty weapon seems more and more tempting every night.