Author's Note: Story takes place soon after the 3rd Season Red John finale.

It had been a long day at work. Teresa Lisbon had become bombarded by a stack of paperwork she had long put off. Because they focused on a day she was shot and had watched a man die. She had been allowed to do them when she was ready. But they stared at her day after day, and she figured it'd be best just to go at them and put it behind her as much as possible. Describing a day that put one her best agents and friends into a tremendously devastated state, herself into the hospital and Patrick Jane in jail wasn't exactly relaxing. Their work had continued as routinely as was possible. Though he had recently killed someone, it didn't seem to dramatically affect Patrick Jane's demeanor, at least what he let show. Jane had been bailed out after the incident but his parole kept him nearby, allowing him to do some work on cases within Sacramento while they waited for his trial. Grace had taken time off, but at her own will had returned and took on some lighter work. Retelling the chaotic day had drained Lisbon, and when she lay down the night before at 8 PM, she conked out and didn't wake up. Well, didn't wake up on her own…

At 6 AM, Saturday morning, the piercing sound of a large horn made Lisbon startle awake. Her heart was pounding and the sound came again. Eager to continue sleeping, she convinced herself it was the garbage truck. But when it continued honking, she started to doubt herself. "Who the hell is out there," she grumbled as she slumped to the window. Parked in front of her house was a massive deluxe motor-home, the door open but no sign of the honker. When suddenly, an all too familiar voice came shouting at her front door.

"Lisbon! You better come out here before I wake up your neighbors." Patrick Jane pounded on her front door, his loud tone making it clear he didn't care if her neighbors awoke. If anything, the smirk on his face said he would have liked it. Lisbon's brow was knitted tight as she struggled to open her window. "Here I go again!" Lisbon grunted and finally got the window to open.

"Patrick Jane!" She shouted in a whisper, but realized it had done nothing when the deafening horn started up again. A light turned on in the house beside hers, making Lisbon snatch up her sweatshirt and hurry outside. Though it was early summer, the morning air was still cold and the pavement chilled her bare feet. "Jane!" She loudly whispered as she neared the vehicle. Lisbon could hear mumbling inside and when she stuck her head in the door Jane exaggeratedly rolled his eyes.

"Hibernation season is over you know. Time to smell the flowers; shed your winter coat-"

"What the hell are you doing Jane? Its 6 in the morning, normal people are trying to sleep." She stepped into the motor-home, which if it didn't have wheels would appear as nice as a 3 million dollar house cramped into 40 feet. "What the hell is this thing?" Jane smiled and swiveled about in his driver's seat then proudly spunning back with a brochure in hand. Lisbon unfolded her arms from her chest and took it.

"2011 American Coach Luxury Motor-home, what life doesn't treat you to we will." As Lisbon flipped through the pamphlet mumbling the facts listed inside, Jane headed to the small but upscale kitchen and put a kettle on the stove.

"Tea? Oh never mind, we won't have time." Lisbon was still waking up and was still a little slow.

"Jane, just stop." The blonde looked at her from over his shoulder as he put the kettle aside.

"No need to be pushy I already am."

"No, just slow down a minute. Why did you buy or rent or whatever this, pull up to my house at 6 AM on a Saturday, and demand I come out here?" Lisbon stuffed her hands in her pockets. "In my pajamas." She added with a hint of embarrassment.

"Demand? Sheesh. Not my fault I had to use this to wake up sleeping beauty." He pounded on the horn and smiled. Lisbon swatted his shoulder.

"Knock it off Jane. My neighbors are gonna kill me." Jane looked down at his watch and tapped it, making a series of displeased sounds.

"Quarter past? I'm way off schedule. Lisbon, go get decent and come back with your swimsuit, a towel and a peach. I'm feeling rather peachy…"

"Why Jane? You can't go anywhere." She barked, her head beginning to pound from lack of sleep. "And I am not taking part in violating your parole." Lisbon held up her hands and backed towards the door.

"Lisbon, Lisbon, Lisbon, just do as I ask and I promise there will be no parole violating here." He held up his hands in surrender. Lisbon eyed him carefully before giving in, knowing Jane's persistence was unbeatable and there was no way she could go back to sleep. She headed back into her home, found her swim suit, changed into shorts and a t-shirt, and kept her sweatshirt on. She stuffed her phone into her pocket as she locked the door to the house and returned to the motor-home. Jane was conducting an invisible orchestra on the radio when she entered, Lisbon plopped her stuff down on one of the three couches. Jane looked to her pile of things and instantly questioned.

"No peach?" Lisbon gave him an exasperated look.

"You were serious?" Jane's face morphed into an exaggerated look of utter bewilderment.

"Yes, Lisbon more than I ever have been." Lisbon grumbled something to herself before marching back to her house, grabbing the fruit and stomping back to the motor-home, slamming the door.

"Is it really fuzzy, because when they're too fuzzy things just get awkward." Lisbon simply chucked the fruit at him and buckled herself into the other front seat.

"Ah!" Jane let out an exasperated moan. "Now you've done it." A large indent was now on one side of the peach. He dusted it off and placed in into a cup holder. "Well that didn't go as smoothly as I expected." Jane started the engine and gently pressed on the gas.

"You sure you know how to drive this thing?"

"No." Jane said as he narrowly missed tapping the bumper of a parked car. Jane felt Lisbon's scowl upon him. "I've never driven a motor-home this size, but once Jorge the Carnie let me drive his semi with a Ferris wheel on the back, boy was that terrifying."

"And when was this, when you were 12?"

"Oh no this was last year." Lisbon sighed through her nose and slumped in her seat, her headache slowly fading. Jane began nodding his head then let out a series of trumpet sounding noises as if he was announcing a car race. "To Wayne Rigsby's house, and beyond!" Lisbon gripped her arm rests as Jane floored it, speeding onto the freeway ramp. Lisbon held on tight, because she knew that was all she could do.