AN: Favorite episode of the season so far? Yes, I think so. So many wonderful, wonderful moments and plot twists. I can't wait to get back from hiatus!

Trials and Trepidations

With every name he threw at her, Lisbon's expression became more and more aghast. Underneath it all, however, he could see the sheer relief in her eyes – he was letting her in.

Her words had definitely affected him – are we partners or what?

And in that moment he finally acquiesced. Yes, they were. If the past nine years had proved anything, it was that Lisbon was loyal to a fault, would always have his back, keep his secrets, fight for him, even if it went against her better judgment.

"Come here, partner," he'd replied, voice unintentionally husky, pulling her into the room he had guarded so fiercely for the past few weeks.

In typical Lisbon fashion, she'd taken her surroundings in stride. He was sure she'd been expecting something like this anyway, though perhaps she hadn't thought he would have been so very thorough.

She should have known better.

After discussing the first few Red John suspects, Lisbon had gone to sit on the edge of his makeshift bed, fingers toying with the fringe of the blue blanket that covered the mattress.

She was still struggling to accommodate all of this new information when he decided to rile her up properly.

"Next name," he said. "Walter Mashburn."

Her jaw dropped. Literally dropped, and he fought to hide his smile.

"You're kidding," she replied, eyes wide and nonplussed.

"I'm not, actually. He's definitely on the list." That much was true, but he was quite certain Mashburn wasn't Red John.

"There's no way he's a serial killer," she protested, and he saw her cheeks color a touch.

"He definitely has the resources to pull it off," he countered. "Rich, intelligent, probably a little bit of a sociopath." He made a face. "And you slept with him."

She caught the teasing glint in his eyes and struck back. "Do you really want to play that game, Jane? Considering who the last person you slept with was?"

He held up his hands in mock surrender. "Touché, Lisbon." He drew a breath. "No, I don't think it's Mashburn. I'm actually pretty positive about it."

Lisbon looked relieved, and he couldn't blame her. What he had done with Lorelei was bad enough. At least he'd known who she was, who she worked for, almost from the second she'd knocked on his hotel room door.

Imagine if he hadn't though – he suppressed a shudder.

And Lorelei was just a puppet for Red John, not the man himself. Lisbon would have been horrified beyond belief, he knew.

"Haffner just stopped by," she said, apropos of nothing.

"Ah," he murmured, crossing his legs negligently. "He was after your response to his job offer, I suppose?

He tried to keep the trepidation out of his voice. While he was nearly certain she wasn't going anywhere, the mere idea of it was enough to make him very nervous.

She shook her head. "He already had that."

He relaxed marginally.

"But he's a member of Visualize," she told him, and he stared.

"No kidding?" he frowned. "I'm pretty sure it was against his religion for him to try and beat the hell out of me last year, then."

She didn't smile. "He refused to tell me if he was ever at Elliston farm."

Now that was an interesting twist. Very interesting indeed. Which meant that he probably was there. Mentally, he put a large star by Haffner's name.

"I didn't see that coming," he admitted.

"Me, either." Her fingers twisted deeper into his blanket, belying her unrest. "I'm glad I never seriously considered his offer. I think I would have shot him if I realized I was going to work for a company that was founded partly by Brett Stiles."

He let her sit in silence with her thoughts for a moment longer. Then, "I'm glad you never seriously considered it, too." His voice was soft, and she met his eyes. "It saved me a lot of trouble, not having to talk you out of it."

Her face was gentle, a little hopeful. "You would have talked me out of it?"

He smiled. "I certainly would have done my best. I can be very persuasive when I put my mind to it."

In truth, as soon as she'd told him about Haffner's offer, he'd started coming up with various arguments that would keep her with CBI, keep her with him.

He had discovered there was very little was unwilling to do to make her stay, no trump card he wouldn't play. If it came down to it, he would have pushed her against the nearest wall and kissed her until she promised never to go.

Now that he thought about it, it was sort of a shame he hadn't had to try at all.

"You belong here," he said. There was an implication in his words.

"I know," she replied, voice almost a whisper.

There was a loaded pause.

They discussed a few more names after that, but Lisbon didn't stay long. He supposed he had given her more than enough to chew over.

She paused at the door of the attic. "Promise me you won't stay here tonight."

"Why not?" It wasn't as though it was a particularly unusual occurrence.

"Because it creeps me out to think of you sleeping somewhere decorated with pictures of murder victims." Her tone was so matter-of-fact that he almost laughed.

"So don't think of me," he replied, eyes widened in mock innocence.

She snorted. "What a simple solution, Jane." He didn't know it was possible to put that much sarcasm in five words. "Why didn't I think of that before?"

He assumed she was still rolling her eyes as she left.

Thoughtfully, he sat in the spot she had just vacated.

He needed to devote some more time to Ray Haffner. Something was scratching at the back of his brain, something important. There was a connection he was failing to make.

Haffner was starting his own firm, using money from Visualize.

Red John had been a member of Visualize at some point, and might still be. Jane had no idea how much power he had within that organization, but he was willing to bet he definitely had some, despite what Brett Stiles would say.

And then it hit him.

Haffner wasn't trying to take Lisbon because she was a superior agent, although that was true. He was trying to divide them, trying to split them up.

And he was very possibly doing this on Red John's orders.

Red John, who was probably going to be less than pleased that his latest little scheme hadn't worked. There would be a retaliation, he was sure.

A shiver of fear slid up his spine.

Pulling out his phone, he hastily pressed "1" on the speed dial. After four rings, he heard Lisbon's voice telling him to leave a message.

Swearing, he scrolled through his contacts until he brought up her rarely dialed home number. An automated robot informed him that his call could not be completed as dialed.

He was running before five more seconds had passed.

He drove like a maniac. It was a miracle that he wasn't pulled over. Every red light that forced him to stop felt like it lasted forever. Smiling red faces danced across his vision. What if there was one waiting for him at Lisbon's?

There was no way he would survive her loss.

Fear threatened to choke him. He was an idiot – he should have caught this before she even left, should have been able to warn her, to protect her.

The lights were on when he pulled into the parking lot. He had barely put the Citroen in park before he shot out of the car. In another ten seconds, he was banging on her door like her life depended on it.

Maybe it did.

And maybe it was too late.

But then the door swung wide, and Lisbon stared up at him, hair wet, clearly wondering what the hell was going on.

Before he could think about it, he wrapped his arms around her. "You're okay," he whispered.

He felt her hands tentatively rest on his back. "Why wouldn't I be?" she wondered.

Sighing into her hair, he tightened his grip for just a moment before stepping away. He shooed her inside, closing and locking the door behind them.

"Jane, seriously," she said. "What's going on?"

It was at this point he realized she was wearing an oversized hockey jersey and very little else. He forced his mind away from that supremely unimportant thought.

"You didn't answer your phone," he said accusingly.

She raised an eyebrow. "I was probably in the shower."

He ignored her. "And then I tried calling here, and the number was disconnected."

"I got rid of my land line five months ago," she told him. "I never used it. Why were you trying to call me anyway?"

He found he was lightly trembling from both his exertions and the misplaced adrenaline that was still rushing through his system. Without asking permission, he sat heavily on her couch.

Looking monumentally confused, Lisbon joined him, curling her legs underneath her, hiding them from his view. He was at once grateful and disappointed.

He knew his expression was very serious as he looked down at her. "Red John is trying to separate us," he told her.

She looked horrified as she thought through the implications of his sentence. "You think that's why Haffner asked me to come with him? So you'd be left on your own?"

He nodded. "I don't know if he knew why, specifically, but I'd bet anything that that was the real reason."

Lisbon mulled that over. "That still doesn't tell me why you're here right now."

He smiled, and it had a bitter edge to it. "Lisbon, you're not playing his game. He wants you out of the picture, which, unfortunately, means he's watching you."

Goosebumps appeared on her bare arms, and he knew they weren't from the cold.

"There are going to be consequences," he said. "I have no idea what, but I'd bet anything they're coming."

She couldn't stop the shudder that chased down her spine. He was sure she tried.

"He knows you're getting close," she said. It sounded ominous.

He nodded. "Probably."

But he would worry about that later. In this moment, all he was concerned about what keeping Lisbon safe. He wasn't sure how to do that, though.

It was dangerous to be with him. Hell, that's what got her into this position in the first place. But what if she left? What if she'd taken Haffner up on his offer?

Then she would be right in the arms of an organization that was probably still backing Red John. The horror of that scenario played out in his mind for a second, and he needed to remind himself that she was still sitting right next to him.

He reached for her hand, anchoring himself to the present.

It would definitely be more dangerous if she wasn't with him. There was a moment where he considered laughing in outright hysteria. Two useless choices. She could be in danger with him, or she could be in danger without him.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered. "I never meant for this to happen."

Her thumb brushed over his knuckles. "Never meant for what to happen?"

"Never meant for you to be my weak spot." He sighed. "It's my fault Red John finally turned his eyes on you."

Unexpectedly, she smiled. "Not really," she said. "I knew what I was getting into the moment Red John started playing games with you. I've always known that this might happen."

He stared. "So why the hell didn't you just walk away?"

She shook her head. "That was never an option for me. And it's certainly not one now." Her voice was firm.

"You're an idiot," he said, and she laughed. He could hear the underlying fear.

Releasing her hand, he put his arm around her shoulders, pulling her until she rested against his chest.

She let out a deep breath, fingers splayed against his heart. "You're probably right."

He curled his other hand around her elbow, then buried his nose in her hair. "Promise me you'll be more careful than you've ever been in your life," he whispered. "No running at night, no getting into your car without checking the backseat first. I mean it," he said for emphasis.

Her hand slid from his heart to settle at his waist. "I promise."

In his mind, it wasn't going to be enough. They were going to need to be hyper-vigilant.

Lisbon shifted against his chest again, and he knew he would do everything in his power to protect her. Red John was trying to tear them apart, so he would make sure that they were closer than ever, that their bond was unbreakable.

They sat like that for the rest of the night, taking turns dozing. Eventually, she pulled a throw blanket over both of them, and the warmth of their combined body heat was intoxicating.

When dawn broke, he finally untangled himself from a sleeping Lisbon, stretching.

It was then he noticed the small slip of paper shoved halfway underneath her door.

Heart sinking, he picked it up, unfolded it.

That was close, wasn't it?

Heart pounding, he unlocked the door and flung it wide. In the gray light, he couldn't see anything that was amiss, but that didn't mean a thing.

The world outside of her apartment was suddenly a terrifying place, and he could feel that threat starting to engulf them.

The end was approaching.

He could only hope it wouldn't come at a higher cost than he could bear.

AN: Complete for now, but I reserve the right to turn this into a multichapter if the urge strikes me. :)