Jane's whole body shook violently, recovering from the effort of hoisting himself onto the high stone sill. He paused to steady himself before swinging his wobbling legs over, very carefully, one at a time, to manoeuvre into position on the ledge without falling.

Clinging tightly to the frame with one white knuckled hand he sat for as long as he dare, trying to gather what little strength he had before searching for his cell phone. But his hand was quivering and his rising panic made him uncertain, inefficient. At last he dragged the phone from it's usual pocket … the first place he should have gone to …and pressed the topnumber on speed dial.

Before waiting for an answer he took as deep a breath as he could and, between short painful gasps began his message.

"Lisbon … " he wheezed, "… need help… now … medics and fire … quick… please !"

Teresa only caught the last half of the garbled message. She wedged the phone casually between chin and shoulder, giving it only half her attention, while she shoved the last manila folder of the day into the open bottom drawer of her filing cabinet. If this was another case she would gladly throttle the caller!

When she heard her consultant's unmistakable voice it was not the tone she would ever expect from him. Even when he was in trouble Jane usually managed to put up some kind of front, but the sounds she heard were barely words. She could hardly hear his desperate message above the noise of her panicking heart and the painful sounds he made as he fought for breath.

Jane was in a mess!

Her knees turned immediately to jelly and back to solid again before she went back into cop mode.

This was real.

And she needed to stay focused.

"Jane, calm down," she instructed, keeping her voice even and clear, even though her insides were already churning with anxiety. "Try to slow your breathing. I can't understand you. Where are you ?"

Lisbon was already picking up her keys and jacket as she spoke, alarmed by the desperation in her consultant's usually silky tones and his obvious struggle to speak. She had no idea what was going on … but it was bad … very bad.

The elevator had already reached ground level before she had managed to decipher a clear message from the breathy wheezing and coughing which was punctuated by worrying periods of near silence, except for faint rustling, crackling and strange roaring sounds in the background.

Jane blinked frantically through the waves of nauseating dizziness that fogged his brain; a vain attempt to clear his mind. He struggled to find the words to answer coherently. They just wouldn't come and when they did he couln't get them out.

He knew he didn't have long.

"Where are you Jane?" Lisbon repeated, puffing as she charged across the lot to her car, and wishing it was not parked in the furthest spot available because she had unusually arrived late today.

She vowed never to be late again!

At last some more words came ...

"O…old …st…stone … house … big one…" she managed to make out from the strangled sounds.

"Where Jane? What street ?" she tried her best to be patient, really she did, but she needed information. Quickly.

"Out past the …zoo… Lissss…" Jane panted even more faintly.

Then there was a scrabbling sound followed by a dull, thud and the signal abruptly cut out.

Silence.

Damn!

With the tenuous contact between them severed Lisbon's mind began to race immediately, not being able to hear her consultant breathing or even the tiniest sign of life, her fear for his safety choked her own breaths. If she could hear him she could believe he was OK. Or would be.

Her thoughts tumbled and darted, trying to interpret the significance of what she had heard, but it was already blindingly obvious that she needed to act quickly and that Jane was in immediate danger. She was already turning the key in the ignition and speed dialling Cho before her seat belt was buckled.

"Pick up Cho! Now!" She yelled.

Foot instantly to the floor, cell in one hand, she was unafraid to push the powerful vehicle to it's limits using only her free hand to clutch the wheel. When a life was in danger, especially one of her own, and more especially Jane's, no one could match Theresa Lisbon for brave and skilful driving.

"Boss ?" the monotone answer soon came. "What's wrong?"

"Cho! Jane's in trouble." she yelled without thinking. "I'm on my way. Get Van Pelt to trace his phone and get EMTs and fire department there stat."

Of course when the situation required calm, training was a wonderful thing, and Cho's businesslike timbre was always a leveller.

At the sound of his voice Lisbon clicked automatically back into work mode; this was just another call to just another crime scene for the purposes of the conversation. Calm efficiency was the only way to go. She buckled the still undone seatbelt and took a deep breath for her consultant. She could panic later. It would do him no good to let herself fall pray to stereotypical feminine weakness just because he was her best friend and it was he who had been on the other end of that dreadful call.

"OK Boss," her loyal second in command continued in his usual unflustered manner. "On my way. You want Van Pelt and Rigs there?"

"Yeah. Please," she told him. "You come but don't worry Rigsby, its late. Oh, and let me know the location as soon as you have it. It's somewhere out beyond the zoo, but he was gabbling, sounded confused… I have a bad feeling Cho…"

Her voice tailed off, worry welling up once again at the recollection of the mangled sound of Jane's words, punctuated as they were by an agonizing wheezy cough and laden with a fear so strong that it had fairly oozed from her cell and chilled her to the marrow.

"Thanks Kimball" she said quietly.

"Don't worry Boss. We'll get there as soon as we can. He'll be fine."

Cho wasn't so sure, but he wasn't as insensitive as he often appeared and Lisbon was, as Jane had to keep reminding her, no award winning actress. She couldn't hide her dread from Cho anymore than she could beat Jane at poker.

Slightly reassured she threw the phone down on the seat beside her and, fuelled by determination, hope and thought of life without Jane, she pushed her body closer to the wheel as if to impel the vehicle forward more quickly.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Jane's phone slipped from his trembling grasp and he watched open mouthed and helpless as it landed beneath him, the sound of it's landing barely audible above the crackling of the raging flames fast approaching from behind him.

He lurched forward precariously, instinctively grabbing at the thin air of a grey October day, in an attempt to retrieve his lifeline to safety, and link to Lisbon, as it plummeted. As he almost fell Jane was met with swirling images of the ground, which he knew to be solid, sweeping up to meet his startled face like the dark waves of an angry dark green sea, but finding strength which he (and the team) hadn't known he possessed, he managed to regain enough balance to hang on to the cold, hard granite of the window surround and halt his premature descent.

He knew that descent was inevitable, but he also knew that when it came, it would have to be controlled.

He also knew it had to be very soon.

Or he would have no chance of survival.

Acrid black smoke was now swirling past him into the fast approaching dusk, making sure to fill his lungs with it's suffocating poison on it's way out to turn the once blue sky a shade darker and greyer.

The heat from the advancing flames scorched his back, even through his jacket and vest and he felt sure he could detect the distinctive odour of singed hair … his hair!

He had to do it now.

Now or never.

Or never …

and

death…

But his throbbing head spun like a top and he couldn't be sure what was real … how near was the ground… was it grass or concrete… what floor was he on…

... was the whole place really bucking and swaying like that … or was it him …?

...and he couldn't breathe...

... felt sick ...

... couldn't think...

Shuffling his butt to the edge of the icy sill, strangely icy given the circumstances, it's stoney surface scraped painfully through the seat of his pants, and he tried to suck in a breath full of courage and think positive.

... and the thoughts that came spiralled out of control ...

... a childhood rhyme ... a distraction ... subconscious delaying tactic …

The boy stood on the burning bridge … no… deck… no...

Oh, just do it Jane ! Man up!

… bend the knees to cushion the impact …tuck your head in …one shoulder under first …right one, since you're right handed,

…and roll…

... like in the movies…

... a stuntman!

... that's it!

... roll like a stuntman!

… Geronimooooooooooooooo ... !

Jane slipped his behind off the sill and prayed to St. Teresa.

The ground seemed closer than he had expected.

It arrived sooner than he thought.

It was harder.

Very much harder.

His ankles buckled.

He heard the cracks.

He bent his knees, but he still heard the snaps.

He tried to roll … but the ground was too fast for him.

Much too fast.

Or he was just too painfully slow?

It came up to meet him before he had a chance.

The impact surged up through his body in one huge jolt and emerged as a primeval scream that pierced the night sky and carried right on up to the heavens, reverberating his pain, making the world aware of his agony.

Red hot needles shot through his limbs and just kept coming, over and over and over until his body pitched forward and slammed his face into the cold, gravely earth and he was delivered into the blessed oblivion of unconsciousness.

It took all of two seconds.

Then silence.

Blessed silence.