Author's note: Written for the Mentalist Big Bang on LJ. A huge thank you to my artist delugedpapercup and to my wonderful beta tromana, who kindly made very detailed suggestions for all the scenes from Lisbon's point of view.

Chapter 1

"Please sir, listen to me. I've spent the last nine months investigating the Red John case. I'm just asking you to give me a chance. My observations skills might come in handy to the CBI."

The supervising agent Virgil Minelli wasn't one to beat around the bush.

"We don't need a fake psychic meddling with our investigations, thank you."

"The fact that I conned people for a living should be enough proof that I'm good at paying attention to details, at the very least."

"Look here, Mr. Jane. You're not a detective, you're a victim. Go home and mourn for your family. I'll make sure to inform you when we catch the bastard."

Patrick Jane clenched his fist and stormed out of the office. Cops were so narrow-minded when it came to civilians offering them their help; it wasn't the first time his assistance had been rejected. He would have to find another way to get his hands on the case files.

Purposely he slowed down his pace and let his trained eyes take in the people hustling and bustling around the bullpen. His glance paused on a petite brunette – the senior agent, judging from the quiet authority that emanated from her – who was currently briefing her own team.

Maybe he'd just found his personal liaison officer inside the CBI.

xxx

"All right guys, we're done for the day. I'll see you in the morning."

Teresa Lisbon waited for her team members to leave for the night before heading back into her office and collecting her belongings.

It hadn't been long since they had taken over the Red John case, but it was becoming increasingly clear that this wouldn't be plain sailing like most of their previous cases. The serial killer seemed far too cunning for her liking, with the lack of forensic evidence and careless mistakes that other killers were prone to making. But, then, as a serial killer, she never expected it to be easy. There was a reason why he was still out there, after all.

However, she also had a sickening feeling that he was playing some twisted game with them as well. The red smiley he always painted above his victims' bodies looked strangely like a mocking reminder of how smart he was in comparison to mere cops. Or, that's how she read it, at the very least.

As she drove back home she barely paid any attention to the road, trying to sum up in her mind all the information she'd found in the case files instead.

All of a sudden she found herself distracted by an apparently pointless detail. At some pointe earlier that afternoon, she had felt someone's eyes on her. Then she had noticed a blond and quite disheveled man staring at her from across the bullpen.

She just couldn't quite explain why he vaguely reminded her of something connected to those case files she had been thinking about.

xxx

He spent a couple of weeks unobtrusively observing his mark. Senior Agent Teresa Lisbon – that was her name – was one of the most loyal and caring women he'd ever met. Well, technically, they hadn't met yet, but he was going to take care of such a trifle right now. He put on his most cheerful smile and rang the bell. As the door opened the woman standing on the threshold stared at him for a moment. Before she had a chance to speak, he interrupted her.

"I've heard that you're the agent in charge of the Red John case."

She frowned slightly, as if she'd suddenly remembered something. "Wait a minute. You're Patrick Jane; I've heard of you. You were husband and father to two of Red John's victims, correct?"

He took in a deep, shaky breath. "Yeah."

"I'm very sorry for your loss."

"Thank you."

When Agent Lisbon politely invited him inside and offered him coffee, he couldn't help pointing out that he'd rather have tea instead. But now, he was sitting on her couch sipping a cup of tea that didn't live up to his own standards. But that didn't matter right now. Surprisingly easily, he had been able to get into her home.

"How did you find my address, and why, specifically are you here?"

Carefully he placed the empty teacup back on its saucer and regarded her seriously.

"It's easy when you know how. And I'm here about Red John, of course."

"I thought as much," she muttered under her breath.

"I volunteered my services to your boss; I wanted to consult on the Red John case. Unfortunately, he declined my offer."

Lisbon raised an eyebrow. "You're not expecting me to plead your cause with Minelli, are you?"

He tilted his head to one side, considering her question for a while.

"Why not? I'd have thought that any help should be welcome, especially when there's a serial killer involved."

"An amateur snooping around is the last thing we need."

"Okay. How about you let me know some key facts in the investigation? Keep me up to date with the recent developments? I won't tell anyone."

"Mr. Jane, please…"

His gaze suddenly locked with hers. "Agent Lisbon, I have to know who the man that murdered my family is. Can you understand that?"

A look of pity flashed across her face, despite the fact he had rudely barged into her private space. "I know this must be very hard for you. All victims' relatives feel the same way. But you have to trust our department. We're doing our best to catch Red John, and we won't stop until we get him."

Jane hid his disappointment behind a mask of politeness. The woman wasn't such an easy nut to crack as he'd thought at first.

He would have to raise the stakes if he wanted to reach his goal.

xxx

Lisbon stepped inside her apartment, taking extra care with locking the door behind her. She still couldn't quite fathom how Mr. Jane had managed to track down her home address. It felt quite creepy, given the fact that he wasn't even supposed to know her name.

Civilians weren't meant to get hold of details regarding cops' whereabouts. It could be very dangerous if some of those people turned out to be connected with criminal activities of any kind.

She sighed and let go of the thought. That was the least of her problems right now.

It had been the very first time they'd apparently found a solid lead to Red John, and their confidential informant – also known as a former serial killer's minion who'd suddenly decided to betray his former master to the police – had died before their very eyes without being able to utter as much as a single word.

She shuddered at memory of the horrified look that had flashed across the wretch's face when he'd realized that Red John had managed to poison him somehow.

Lisbon grabbed a bottle from the cupboard and poured herself a generous glass of wine. Given the nightmarish experience she's had with her father, she was usually opposed to drinking. She'd been given this bottle as a birthday present some months ago, but had never bothered to open it until now.

With a shrug she settled on the couch. Red John, his dead acolyte, Patrick Jane… she had too many things haunting her mind right now. She simply needed to get rid of them, if only for a little while.

xxx

He gulped another shot of tequila and strolled out of the bar. It was time to set the wheels in motion.

As he pressed Teresa Lisbon's doorbell his mind drifted to Angela, and he experienced an odd pang of guilt.

Forgive me, my love. This is just a means to an end, a necessary evil. I have to catch Red John.

His thoughts were suddenly interrupted by Agent Lisbon herself opening the door.

"You again? What do you want this time?"

"I… can't be alone tonight. Please let me in."

He stumbled upon each word just a little more than he would have in any other circumstance. He wasn't that drunk after all, just a bit tipsy. Had he not felt the need to keep his mind clear for his chase after a serial killer, he would have probably given into drink a long time ago.

Lisbon hesitated for a moment, and then finally nodded. She wasn't the kind of woman who'd slam the door in the face of a desperate man; he'd guessed that much.

"You should've called a friend."

"I have no friends."

He could see that look of pity showing on her face once again, and promptly took advantage of it. It was helped by the fact that he could see a half-drunk bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon on one of her tables. He wasn't the only one to have been drinking tonight.

"My wife and daughter were all I had in this world. They were my world. It's my fault they died. I don't think I could ever forgive myself for that."

She shook her head, gently and yet somewhat stubbornly. "It wasn't your fault."

"What?"

"Red John was the one who killed them. Not you."

Another pang of guilt hit him, for quite a different reason this time. That woman was so kind and honest, in an odd sort of way, and that was despite her being tipsy too. The alcohol had loosened her inhibitions and he was fully aware that he was about to take advantage of it. It was a shame that he had to play with her feelings in this way. Not that he was faking all of it. He genuinely felt lonely and desperate. Grief and guilt were his only companions, day and night.

"They didn't do anything wrong. He should have killed me instead."

Lisbon gently took hold of his hands in a clumsy attempt to soothe him. That was when he closed the distance between them and kissed her. She didn't react at first, as if her brain had suddenly gone numb and then, she pulled away.

"Mr. Jane, I know you're upset, but this wouldn't help you, believe me."

"I'm sick and tired of being alone with my own demons."

This was the actual truth anyway. Her expression softened all of a sudden, and she slid her hands up to his shoulders.

"Okay."

The last coherent thought that crossed his mind was about self-sacrificing women and men that didn't deserve them.

Then she covered his mouth with her own and his mind went completely haywire.

xxx

"You're an idiot, Teresa."

That was what she kept on telling herself as she showered the morning after. She was a cop, and cops weren't supposed to be sleeping with victim's relatives in murder cases.

Truth was, she'd drunk more than she should have the previous night. And Jane had looked so desperate for some sort of comfort that she'd found herself simply unable to say no.

Well, there was no way she could change what had happened – she reminded herself as she toweled her hair dry. All she could do was keeping him at arm's length from now on.

No more sleeping together, no more sneaking information out of her in between kisses. Though, even she had to admit that he was quite a good kisser. And given the fact she'd had her fair share of one night stands so far, that was saying something.

She had to bear in mind that he was just a victim himself, while she was the professional. She was supposed to be the sensible one, and she was most of the time.

With one last look at her reflection staring back from the clouded mirror she exited the bathroom and headed downstairs in order to fix herself some breakfast.

In spite of what had happened the night before, she still had to get to work in time.

If she was lucky, she might be able sneak out of her apartment before Jane would actually wake up.

xxx

It took him a couple of minutes to collect his thoughts when he woke up in a foreign bed the next morning. He was in Agent Lisbon's, of course. His plan was finally in motion. He had carefully avoided considering how good spending the night with her had felt. She'd set her mind to comfort him, and she had succeeded, or at least as much as the circumstances allowed. Teresa Lisbon was a very considerate lover, and he had been celibate ever since his wife had been murdered.

Slowly he got dressed and went downstairs. He'd managed to coax some interesting details out of her during their love-making; the alcohol had loosened her tongue as well as her inhibitions. However, he needed to know more.

"Hi," she greeted him briefly as she spotted the grey of his three-piece suit through the banister.

He nodded in response. "You going to work?"

"Yes. There's some coffee left… no, you told me you don't like coffee. Well, you could always make yourself some tea. There's a box of it in the cupboard."

"Can't I come with you instead?"

She rolled her eyes with annoyance. "Jane, last night doesn't change anything about the rules. I'm a cop; I'm not allowed to divulge details about ongoing investigations."

Allowing himself a mental smirk as he noticed that she'd just dropped the Mr., he gave her an intent stare.

"What if I might be able to help you? What if we could prevent that monster from slaughtering more innocent people?"

He could see the exact moment she finally decided to compromise.

"I cannot take you with me at work. If you come back this evening, maybe I'll be able to tell you a little more."

A charming grin lit up his features. He could work with that. "I'll even make you dinner if you like."

Lisbon waved a dismissive hand and she almost fled through the front door.

The faint blush on her cheeks didn't escape Jane's notice though.

xxx

Damn Jane and damn her own weaknesses too.

She shouldn't have invited him back in the evening; even worse, she shouldn't have promised to give him any details about the case at all.

Just that morning she'd had a meeting with Minelli (along with all the other senior agents), and her boss had spent a good half an hour reminding them the CBI policy about agents divulging details of ongoing investigations. He'd actually intended it as a warning to some of them who seemed a bit too inclined to babble with the press, but still. She couldn't help but apply it to her own current situation.

However, she could tell that Jane was in dire need of that information. He kept on blaming himself for the death of his family, and simply refused to see sense. If a few – carefully chosen – details about the case might actually serve the purpose of giving him something to cling onto, then so be it. She would be more than happy to take the risk. She trusted him not to leak the information to the press; there was something about him that made her feel certain of that.

And yet, there was something that had been nagging away at her since the first time they'd met. She couldn't quite understand what his real intentions were, and that worried her. After all, why was he so adamant that he wanted to help them with the case? Apart from seeking justice for his deceased family, there was the distinct possibility he was up to something a little less rightful.

She didn't like this thought; she really wished she had known more about him before getting herself into this.

If there was something that she hated, that was not being in control.

xxx

They worked together on the Red John case for the next three months. It took him a while to make her open up, and eventually bring him copies of the actual case files, but he eventually succeeded. Lisbon told him every detail that had been kept off the press. Jane kept on making her dinner and sleeping with her almost every night.

Even in the throes of passion, his mind always went back to his wife and daughter. No matter how long they had been dead – and the last year weighed almost like a whole decade on his shoulders – he still couldn't help feeling like he was cheating on them. This was a different kind of punishment. He was using his body to achieve his goal (and therefore, failing to honor his deceased family). It was a somewhat sweet torment for a man that actually craved for his enemy's blood.

The only thing that could ever give him closure was cutting the serial killer open and watching as the life drained away from his body.

He was certain that Teresa Lisbon didn't know anything about it. To her, he was just a bereft husband and father who sought comfort in human contact. She couldn't suspect that his purpose was so very different from hers. As far as she was concerned, he was merely using his insights to assist her in seeking justice.

But seeing Red John behind bars – or even sentenced to death – wouldn't be enough to put his demons to rest, if that was possible at all.

So when she told him they finally did have a suspect, he took the gun he kept hidden in his car and went to fulfill his self-appointed mission.

xxx

To say that the last three months had been weird was much of an understatement.

In a way, Lisbon was pleased with Jane's assistance over the investigation. He always managed to see things that seemed to escape even her trained eye, before he pointed them out.

However, she still wasn't sure why he did any of it at all. They'd somehow fallen into a routine of working on the case for the better part of the evenings, then going to bed together – and that wasn't exactly for sleeping only. She really should have stopped sharing her bed with him months ago.

Except that it seemed to make him slightly happier, and she had come to appreciate having someone to come home to at night.

Now they had finally managed to get a promising lead; and, even better than that, a suspect. They just had to wait for the warrant to come through in the morning. Then, they would be searching that supposedly abandoned warehouse for the evidence that would hopefully lead them straight to Red John.

As she went to bed alone for the first time in weeks, she wondered if she should have kept Jane close to her instead. The manic look in his eyes before he left had been frightening enough, and she couldn't shake away the sense of foreboding that had come upon her right from that moment.

xxx

"Well met, Mr. Jane. Perhaps I've underestimated you, I'll give you that."

The dignified middle-aged guy that was currently mocking him while looking down the barrel of a gun didn't fit his idea of the serial killer at all. He supposed that criminals had to look like normal people if they didn't want to get caught at once. And he still wasn't sure that this was really the man he was hunting, anyway.

"Tell me who you are."

An amused chuckle echoed in the empty hall. "Oh, you do know my name. Don't you, Patrick?"

"If you're Red John, then I'm going to kill you."

"Always so stubborn. Haven't you learned your lesson yet?"

They stared at each other for a good minute. Both of them were holding the other at gunpoint, and there seemed to be no way out of this stalemate. Not that Jane actually minded dying; he just wanted to make sure that his foe was stone cold dead first.

"I don't know that you really are Red John," he countered in a desperate attempt to gain some more time.

"Fair enough. Your wife was very clean. She smelled like coal tar soap and lavender. You daughter smelled like sweat, and strawberries and cream. I expect it was some kind of kid's shampoo."

Bitter tears blurred his sight. That monster had dared to smell Angela and Charlotte as he killed them. Shooting him would be far much less than he would actually deserve.

All of a sudden three gunshots reverberated through the whole run-down building. Patrick Jane couldn't believe his eyes as Red John collapsed to the floor in a pool of his own blood. He hadn't pulled the trigger on his weapon.

Then, he turned around to see a furious Teresa Lisbon standing in the doorway, glaring angrily at him.