A/N: Ugh, I've had a bad day... and writing this has really cheered me up. Yes, don't ask, I'm odd. Hopefully, now I'll be able to focus on my other 3 multiparters now I've got this out of the way. I really couldn't focus on anything else.

Anyway, thanks to twin for just reassuring me that this is okay. HUGS! And thanks to: lisbon69, Iloveplotbunnies, mwalter1, Queen Em, Ebony10, yaba, Frogster, Charmed225, HOUSEMDFanForever, Divinia Serit, Viktorija, Habeous Corpus, simonisthecutestmentalist, Famous4it and mtm for reviewing the first part.

Again, this is inspired by 'As Long As You're Mine' from Wicked the musical.

x tromana

Part Two

It was one thing trying to track down your average criminal. Those who killed for love, money, out of anger, because it'll make the world a better place or any of the many countless excuses. It was another thing entirely when said criminal had not only worked for the police and knew every little detail about procedure to know what to avoid, but also had an acute knowledge of human nature. Add into the mix being ever so slightly in love with the one man you're after and you're not going to win, any way you look at it.

Lisbon stared at her hands and for the first time in a long while, she found herself wishing that somebody, anybody would just come and take the weight off her shoulders.

Did she regret that night? Of course not. Given the chance to replay the night and choose again, however? She'd probably abstain. Because that one shred of hope that she'd been given, if only for a couple of hours, was now eating her up from the inside. She should have known better. Should have stopped him from leaving. Should have asked more questions. Thought through things logically instead of acting immediately with her body. If he'd just run without coming to her first, at least she'd have felt more capable about closing off her feelings for Jane. She wouldn't have been so concerned about her judgment being clouded and she'd have felt like she could look at the case far more pragmatically.

At first, Lisbon knew that she wasn't chasing the case as hard as she should be. She didn't like the idea of Jane being locked up any more than the rest of the team, so really everything they did was terribly half-hearted. It was her way of giving herself more time to adjust to the concept of arresting him. She knew that eventually, she would have to do something about it and in many ways, stalling was making things worse but frankly, she didn't care. It was only when the threats started coming from above that she actually allowed herself to focus on the case at all and start to at least try and make some progress.

"Do you have the records of Jane's credit card use, yet, Van Pelt?"

She flinched at her own tone as Van Pelt shook her head. Jane had probably already destroyed the card anyway, he knew full well that it was safer for someone on the run to live cash in hand. It makes them less traceable. They'd found the blue Citroën he'd treasured so much dumped several miles outside of Sacramento and despite her many complaints about the vehicle, even Lisbon thought it was criminal having such a pretty little car locked away as 'evidence'. But it did prove that he'd ran though and therefore, was probably guilty. When news trickled through that his family home had been destroyed in a fire, she wasn't surprised either. That had always been his greatest link to the past and once Red John was gone, there was little point in him clinging onto it. Lisbon surmised that Jane had probably found the experience cathartic and it did remove yet another location to scour around for him. They had the DNA evidence from the crime scene anyway. A few spots of Jane's blood, obviously withdrawn by the serial killer in the scuffle and a few strands of hair were more than enough to link him firmly to the crime.

Eventually, the answer seemed laughably obvious. There was absolutely no point in pleading to the general consensus for clues; Jane knew how to disappear. They had been wasting their time just checking paper trails and the like. He knew all those techniques and knew the tricks around them. Instead, Lisbon simply checked the records and dates and breathed a sigh of relief when she realized that she hadn't missed the anniversary of his family's death. In fact, it was in a fortnight. The concept of doing a stakeout at the cemetery was incredibly uncomfortable, as was the idea of invading his grief. But she also knew she had little choice. However she looked at it, whatever way she painted the picture, Jane had still killed a man and it was her responsibility to apprehend him. That lead to the small factor of her moral standing. Even though she was, is, in love with him, she simply cannot let a guilty man walk free and not only because some suits are putting on the pressure.

When the date eventually arrived, Lisbon started her stakeout, alone, at midnight. It was going to be a long eight hour shift, but she'd insisted upon working the hours, if only to make things easier on her team. Also, she had a sneaking suspicion that Jane would turn up early, trying to get the yearly visit done before they turned up. As she shivered underneath the thin blanket that she had brought along with her she began to doubt him. But if there was one predictable thing she could almost count on him doing, this was it. Every year she'd known him, without fail he'd visit the cemetery with a bunch of the finest roses for his wife and a posy of daisies for his daughter. Not because he believed they'd know, anything but. Mainly because it was what society dictated and in the past, it reminded him of his quest. Now, it would probably serve as a reminder that he'd done what he set out to do, or so she hoped.

She was nearly falling asleep, with only half an hour to go, when she spotted the shadowy finger approaching the appropriate graves. Quickly, she slipped out of the car seat and approached the figure, her heart stuck in her throat. It felt like an age since she'd seen him last, though in reality it had only been about ten months or so. She was fairly certain she hadn't made any significant sounds - she was even holding her breath - until his head whipped around and he spotted her. His eyes widened slightly in surprise; he hadn't realized that she knew the significance of the date but he cursed himself for doubting her skills. He didn't run though, there was no point. Even though he was feeling physically more fit than he had done for years, Jane knew that Lisbon would still be able to outrun him in a flash. It was easier just to stand and face her, like a man, then run away like a scared boy. He could try pleading to her compassionate side, but he knew that this was it. Even he couldn't talk Lisbon out of bending the rules when it came to justice, even for him.

Before either of them spoke, Jane took the time to take in her appearance. She looked a little more haggard, stretched thin and certainly very tired, though that probably had something to do with being near the end of a stakeout designed to capture him. It worried him to see that she'd lost enough weight for it to be noticeable too, especially as she wasn't exactly that big to start off with. While he'd been away, he'd sincerely hoped that she'd been looking after herself instead of wasting away to nothingness. Living in the past did nobody any good - he was testament to that. After the deed, he'd realized exactly it was that he'd done. Not the idea of killing a man, he was strangely okay with that. It was the fact that he'd thrown away a second chance at life and the love of a good, very good, woman in order to follow through with a reckless plan of vengeance. Killing Red John made no difference to the fact that his family was still dead, or the gaping hole that they had left in his life. All it had done had caused even more damage by hurting those who had grown to care for him, probably more than they should have. The damage was simply never ending and only now that it was over, he was able to see that that was the case.

"Teresa, I…"

"No, don't say anything," she glared at him as she unhooked her cuffs. "Just… don't."

Lisbon pushed him around, so that his back was facing her a little too fiercely, but she really didn't want Jane to see the tears that were threatening to slide down her face at any minute. Over the past few months, she had imagined the scenario several times, what he'd say, what she'd say. It was never pretty and half of her had been wishing that they'd never find him or if they did, it wouldn't be alive and she hated herself ever so slightly for that. But still, that way, she would have been able to close the case and mourn him in peace. There would be something to 'get over' rather than having it all hanging up in the air. All unfinished memories and incomplete storylines. Like conflicting love songs over different speakers, all competing for attention but none particularly standing out. Swallowing down her emotions, she grabbed at his wrists. There was a time and a place to address her personal feelings pertaining to the case and Jane. While she was arresting him most certainly was not one of them.

"You have the right to remain silent. Anything you do say…"

He switched off ever so slightly as she spoke. It wasn't as if he hadn't heard it all before and besides, the crack in her voice was almost too much to bear. Instead, Jane focused on the way she held his hands securely behind his back. The bend in his arm, the cool metal of the handcuffs as they slowly encircled his wrists.

Click. Click.

end