So, this is something I wanted to try out...maybe someone will enjoy it :) I don´t really know if there is an audience for such a thing but if it is, I´ll be glad to continue writing it.

Thanks.

She stared at the television long after that so called psychic stopped talking. Even long after the show ended. And then she stared some more, sitting in a stinky hotel room, with TV that needed coins to function. With bed which screamed "itchy" just by looking at it. With one dirty window and a shower, where fungus happily grow.

With a glock by her hand.

"Son of a bitch," she murmured and got up from archaic leather chair that had seen it´s better times before Lisbon was even born. It squeaked in the process, the dust from it sparkling in the limited sunlight.

Lisbon didn´t mind her surrounding at all. This place was not the worst one she had to live in so far. As long as nobody bothered her, everything else was a just a detail.

TIny and unimportant detail.

Now, the important thing was to find out just how much more does a certain Patrick Jane knows about Red John, and who is his source.

Lisbon gathered all of her belongings which were able to fit in a small duffel bag and left the room, her glock hidden safely in a leg holster.

Before she sat into her old black Ford Mustang, she paid for her room in advance for the next few nights - cash only. You never know who might be watching.

The motor rumbled like an old muscle car´s should, the mighty V8 still doing it´s job after so many years. The sun was settling in, darkness finally creeping into this hemisphere yet it was still unbelievably hot. Lisbon rolled her window down a bit, letting at least some of the air into her overheated car.

Beads of sweat rolled down her face anyway, but she couldn´t care less. Her mind was set onto one thing only - Finding Patrick Jane before Red John does.

She obviously had little faith for the superstitious mumbo-jumbo that man spoke about, yeah, like he could communicate with the dead - her ass he could. The thing was ,thought, the thing that caught her attention, that he made some relevant remarks towards Red John.

Some of which a man with no connection shouldn´t know.

How the fuck did he knew was beyond Lisbon´s mind.

How the fuck he knew about the fact that Red John is small man in figure? Yeah, that could´ve been a guess, that´s for sure.

But what about the other things?

"He thinks of himself as a showman, always making sure that the first thing you see is the Red smiley face...then...and only then...bodies ."

He had said those words with eyes closed, half the country watching him in silent awe.

"He´s an art lover, enjoys poetry and classical music...think of as an artist of himself, too...the..the, uh, cuts...his style...is the expression of his"

Lisbon shivered despite the unbearable heat.

He indeed enjoys classical music, even while slicing his victims open, commenting on every little cut he does.

"Ugh," Patrick Jane grimaced, "he´s afraid, he´s...oh, God...,"still with eyes closed, "I can´t, I can´t...a phobia, he´s scared of something...what...what it is?"

Then, the so called psychic almost fell down the sofa, luckily, some quick action from the show host prevented it.

Suddenly, he was awake, asking where he is, what has happened, somebody gave him a glass of water, audience cheered and Lisbon stared at him open-mouthed.

All those things he said were a true, and none of them leaked into public, at least not until now. The smiley face, people were quite aware of Red John´s signature, but the fact you always saw it first was never mentioned.

Nor that he is a tiny man - which he is.

She saw it with her own eyes.

And the music?

She heard it with her own ears.

And the artistic side of his?

Her scars are a memento.

Another shiver run through her body and she checked her rearview mirrors, just in case.

You could never be too careful.

She was the one and only survivor of Red John attack - of course only because he wanted her to be. That bastard scared her for life and not only physically, and then left her tied up all alone until the help arrived, with only the music playing in the dark room.

She´d be damned if she knew why.

She lost her job and her life after the abduction. The only thing on her mind right now was a burning desire to catch the man before he hurt somebody else...or her, again.

A long ride was ahead of her so she turned the radio on, shifted a bit to find a comfortable position and drove on.

Destination - Malibu.

"That was a great show Paddy, great one. They loved you!" Jane´s agent said.

Arnie - an overweight middle aged man, rubbed a wet cloth over his forehead, with a spark in his eyes. Spark that said one thing - Money.

His client was starting to be more and more famous. Real famous, like, asking for autographs famous. Even if those were just a couple of girls. Hot, young girls, with huuuge...uh, eyes and bank accounts too, probably.

He gave Patrick almost half loving gaze and smiled, sweating profoundly. He always did after a show.

Patrick stretched himself like a cat on a leather couch and grinned. "It seems so."

"Seems so? They were begging for more! Eating out of your hand! Keep this shit up and we´ll be rich in a no time, my friend, I guarantee it!"

"I´ll do my best Arnie, I´ll do my best." Afterall, he always does.

"Alright!" Arnie clapped his hands and stopped walking in circles, giving Jane a motherly look, "Now let´s get you out of her so you could have some rest, lot´s of work tomorrow, eh?"

Patrick Jane nodded and got up. Arnie was not just his agent, he was sort of...man for everything. And when he needed one, Arnie became his personal driver. It always looked better to leave a place with your own driver, then to drive alone. Arnie even managed to rent a new Jaguar XJ, black one, elegant and expensive.

Jane did not ask where he got it, there was no need for questions like that. Arnold thrived on money and knew how to get them. He could smell them a mile away.

And Patrick Jane was his gold mine.

"Smile Paddy, we´re going to be on the camera," Arnie whispered to his client and opened the doors for him, revealing a rather large crown of people wanting to see a glimpse of the hot and sexy psychic.

Jane turned his bravado on and basked at the fame and shine from camera flashes. When he finally got into the luxurious car, a lot´s of photos of him had been taken.

He grinned again and opened the bottle of champagne the car provided.

Not bad for a carnie boy.

Not bad at all.

Red John stood silently in his giant red tuned living room, wondering whether is it - is he more angry or amused?

A little worm...

A pest.

How dare he spoke about him like that?

Such a lack of respect...and common sense, too.

Perhaps it was time to pay a visit to Patrick Jane - if he´s such a good psychic, he will be prepared, no?

Red John sat down with a glass of sherry in his hand. It´s been a long time since he got a chance to go out and, well, have some fun. The last time, he couldn´t finnish what he started and it made him a little letdown.

Depressed even.

Teresa Lisbon.

His one and only weakness.

She was too delicate to kill... He wanted to do more then end her existence.

He wanted her to turn to the light and join him, which she refused back then.

One day, he will have her, and he looks forward to that day.

But for tonight, he would settle with a certain psychic who just unknowingly made his last appearance and a dead wish.

He got up and went to pick up his necessaries, already making first of a few phone calls.

Full moon illuminated road to Patrick Jane´s residency when Lisbon drove her Mustang up the hill. She found his address on the internet, along with other things as his phone number, e-mail and other relatively personal stuff. Not very security wise, she mused, but it helped her a lot.

It crossed her mind for a bit that few minutes after midnight is not the greatest time to make a unexpected visit, but the thought of waiting till morning made her feel impatient and dreadful. Mister Jane would have just have to understand her point.

His house - residence - villa or whatever you call it still had some lights on inside. He´s probably still up, celebrating the success from the show. In a weird way, she felt a pang of burning anger. Red John single handedly destroyed her life, not just hers in fact, and yet there were people who were able to make a living out of him.

Talk about life not being fair.

She swore under her breath and walked out of her car into a hot, dry night.

Patrick Jane smiled at a young woman who claimed to be a model. He had an idea of that kind of model she is - a fake one. But a willing and good looking one. Just his type. He handed her a glass of champagne and sipped on his own, sitting beside her.

Arnie has left the residence for the night, letting his client to have a fun of his own. Jane was kind of glad for that. For Clarissa, he was just Patrick´s driver, not an agent.

Clarissa slide closer to him, her hand drawing circles on his chest.

"Tell me, Patrick...what´s on my mind right now?" she asked him with a sly look, while her other hand trailed into the southern region of his body after she gulped down her champagne and put the glass down.

"Oh, the same thing that´s on my mind, darling..am I right?" As if it was hard to guess.

Clarissa giggled and let him invade her personal space a little more. A lot more, actually.

He didn´t wait long to return her this favor.

Red John spied a familiar car parked not so far away from Patrick Jane´s property. A black, old school Ford Mustang.

Could it be?

His breathing became erratic as the thought of Her being here. Of course, she probably saw the show too and was curious about the psychic. And just like him, she just couldn´t wait till morning - for different reasons.

Red John had a smile on his face when he left his car with his trusty bag.

his heart pounded fast...this should be interesting.

Lisbon got to the majestic looking glass front door and rang the bell three times before something happened. She was starting to be impatient and held the button a little longer, enjoying the noise it produced.

A wild looking Patrick Jane finally emerged, with hair all tousled and walking funny. She had to hide a smirk when she saw why. He had a company...either that or he´d been having some quality alone time.

She had no idea a set of eyes were spying on her from the near bushes, like a prey, waiting patiently.

"What?" he snapped angrily after opening the front door.

"Patrick Jane?" she asked, forcing her cop persona back at the surface. She even flashed her badge, fake one, and introduced herself, "My name is agent Lisbon, I´m from the CBI and I have a couple of questions for you regarding Red John, may I come in?"

Jane felt his stomach turn into a very tiny, but a really tight knot. He knew who Teresa Lisbon is. He read her file...it´s been a source for his information used on today´s show. She was no agent. At least not anymore.

"Can I see your badge again, please?" he asked with as much confidence as he could muster. To his surprise she just rolled her eyes, and suddenly a gun appeared in her hand.

"Nope, now, may I come in?"

Patrick inhaled a sharp breath, suddenly too terrified to do a thing. From the look on her face, he could be 70% sure she wouldn´t hurt him and just wanted to talk. He cleared his throat, took the chance and said, "Well, under these circumstances, welcome," and a shiver run down his spine as Lisbon followed him into elegant looking hall. Everything in this house screamed expensive, from rugs to marble staircase to a woman standing on top of them.

"Patrick, what´s happening?" her distressed voice sounded from the top.

"Tell her to leave," Lisbon whispered into his ear with her gun pressed against his back.

"I could scream for help," he murmured.

"You could try."

He sighed.

"Uh, nothing Clarissa, I think we will have to reschedule out little tête-à-tête. You see a police officer came to talk to me about Red John. I´m sure you´ll understand. "

For a second the woman stood there, contemplating what he just said to her and suddenly her cheeks turned bright red.

"Our what? You didn´t know that was going to happen! And to talk about it in front of the police, ugh! You pig!" the woman yelped and Lisbon saw her hurry into what was probably a bedroom. She chuckled.

"God," he murmured, trying hard to decide whether he is more scared or embarrassed.

"Sit down and stay calm. Nothing will happen if you just listen to me."

Jane followed her orders and sat down at his brown leather couch fighting the urge to tremble. One thing he hated with every cell in his body were guns...preferably those aiming at him, even though he could clearly see no intention in killing him.

She glared at him, gun hidden, all while Clarissa continued her ramblings and finally came down the stairs, leaving in hurry.

"Don´t ever call me!" she yelled before storming out of his home.

Finally alone, Lisbon visibly relaxed and sat down too. He watched her closely, trying to figure her out failing at it. Nothing like this ever happened to him in ages. His eyes fell on the gun she suddenly put in front of him.

"It´s a lighter," she said. Jane, too pumped up to notice, released a long breath he didn´t knew he was holding. "What?"

Lisbon rolled her eyes again.

"The gun, it´s a fake one. I wouldn´t put you in a danger...yet."

He looked at her, stunned. "Did you just assaulted me with a fake gun?"

"Yeah," she said while taking out a cigarette from a pack and lighting it with a gun shaped lighter. "You have an ashtray somewhere?"

"No, and It would be very much obliged if you put that out, no smoking in the house I´m afraid."

"I have a real gun on me, you know," she said, puffing a little bit of smoke out of her full, red lips. Despite the whole situation he really liked what he saw, on some level. On another level, he was terrified to the core.

"In that case, here, use this glass."

"Thanks, well now let´s talk business. I need you tell me everything you know about Red John, and just so you know, if you are one of his moles, you are a dead man walking."

Patrick Jane swallowed hard.

This is not going to be good, not good at all.

He did not have got a minute to explain what he knew and from where when a classical music started playing outside. He wanted to ask what the hell is it when he saw her expression. She looked as if she saw a ghost.

Lisbon shivered. Perhaps, she was not the only one wanting to meet Patrick Jane tonight.

"He´s here," she whispered and before Jane could do a damn thing she got up, real gun in her hands this time.

"Wait! who´s here? Lisbon, who´s here?!"

"Shut up, call the cops,tell them Red John´s here" she said and left the hall. Patrick Jane turned quickly and ran upstairs to his bedroom, where he left his cell phone. As soon as he entered the room he felt that something was not right. Panic almost overtook him.

His phone wasn´t where he left it. He took a better look at the room, and soon found the remains of it, broken, probably by an angry Clarissa.

"Shit," he murmured, and nearly jumped out of his skin when someone touched his arm.

"It´s just me, calm down," Lisbon said, "did you call the cops?"

Jane unable to make a sound just pointed at the broken pieces of what was an cell phone minutes ago.

"Fuck! We need to get out of here, follow me, stay close. Do you understand?"

Patrick nodded.

"Okay, let´s go."

She lead him down the stairs and out of the hall, the music creeping her out. It seemed like it was coming from everywhere...

Her phone was in the car. She could hear Patrick Jane breathing hard right behind her, making their way to the car. That was the mission now. They managed to do it and just as she tried to unlock it the music stopped and the keys fell out of her hand.

Jane tugged at her sleeve, too terrified to speak.

"Hello again, Teresa, it´s so good to see you."

Lisbon froze at the sound of the voice.

"I would put the gun down if I was you, or your little friend here dies."

Lisbon looked up and saw him, the man in a mask, a mask that kept her awake at night for almost half a year. He was holding Clarissa, a knife pressed into her neck.

She did as he told her, the gun hitting the ground.

"Good, now. Nobody has to get hurt. Well, maybe except Mister Jane here. Apart from him, we can all walk away without a harm. I have a proposition to make, the ol´switcharoo, Teresa. Hand over the "psychic" and I´ll hand over this lovely young lady."

Clarissa´s face was full of tears and the knife pressed to her neck already made a small wound. Jane was still hiding behind Lisbon, wheezing instead of breathing.

Lisbon´s mind raced. Two lives were at stake. She barely had one. She sighed.

"Take me and let them both go," she said quietly and heard Jane squeeze a silent "no!" from his tight neck.

"What a proposition! Did you heard that? Take me and let them go! Teresa you are seriously unbelievable. But you know what? I´ll take it. Come here. Now!"

His voice changed. From a sweet and calm one into a full command mode, anger filling it.

Lisbon made a small step towards him, Patrick´s hand still holding her sleeve. It slipped out of it as he watched her walk away. Something in him cracked. Maybe it was the adrenaline or...perhpas a heap of moment, but he jumped in front of her to fetch the gun.

It all happened so fast, Patrick jumping, gun flying, Lisbon fetching it. Red John yelled and kept Clarissa as a shield with one hand and took out his own gun with another hand. He didn´t waste time and shoot towards Patrick, who was pushed away by Lisbon, the bullet hitting her left hand. She yelled in pain, and so did Red John - in anger.

"Get them!"

Patrick found the keys to Lisbon´s car just as at least three men emerged from the shadows ready to catch them. Somehow, Lisbon appeared from nowhere and took the keys from his hands, yelling, "get in!" in the process.

He did get in just in time, one of the men almost getting a hold on him.

The motor rumbled loudly, and Lisbon put the pedal down, tires squealing. Her hand was on the fire, but she fought on and was able to get moving.

"Can you shoot? They will follow us! Patrick! Can you shoot?"

Patrick snapped out of the shock, having hard time realizing what just happened.

"Clarissa...she´s still there..."

"Here´s a gun. Shoot for fucks sake!"

He took the gun, a car already behind them. Of course he could shoot. A carnie kid who can´t shoot? But shooting at people? His hands trembled when he took the gun and he tried to calm down in vain.

Lisbon drove like a maniac, tires still squealing, car flying on the road.

"I have to get rid of them! You have to help me! Shoot!"

Patrick somehow managed to nod and opened his window, firing a gun at the car behind them. They returned the fire, breaking the back window in the process, giving him a better aiming and somehow he managed to fire a bullet into a their tire blowing it in the process, the car crashing into a tree by the road.

"They´re down," he yelled waving a gun with his hand. Lisbon only nodded and drove on, feeling dizzy probably thanks to blood-loss. The adrenaline in her system did it´s job thought and she kept on going trying hard not to think what would happen to the poor Clarissa.

Red John did not swore. He rarely did. Of course, there were a lot of reasons to swear right now...but then again...if he plays his cards right, everything will came out just how he wanted.

Clarissa was dead. A certain psychic, Patrick Jane, probably killed her, with his new found accomplice - Teresa Lisbon.

"They are on the run", he told the FBI which arrived after he and his men messed with the evidence. "They shot at us, blow our tire and we had a collision. Coulnd´t follow them, then we called you," he told the FBI agent.

"Why were you here anyway?" he asked.

"Thought it would be a good idea to check on mister Jane after his show...you never know what kind of people it might attract. It was just a routine check! And I almost lost my men..." Red John sighed dramatically, rubbing his mustache. "I´m sorry, but we really need to go. Got a case and one of my man probably has a concussion. You know where to find me, right?"

The agent nodded. "Right, go sheriff. We´ll be in touch."

"Thanks agent."

Red John smiled as he and his men left the crime scene. He could hear the FBI agent talking on his phone, "Put an arrest warrant on Patrick Jane and Teresa Lisbon, they are armed and dangerous, driving a black Ford Mustang, last seen heading south, yeah, do it now!.

Great, he thought to himself. He sent his men to do a few things, talk to a few friends while he had a one more stop to visit.

Arnold Gupta - Jane´s agent.

Then, he left the place in hurry, grinning like a mad man he was.

Thanks for reading :)