Authors note is down the bottom, I'll explain my thoughts there. I wasn't happy with this; I've never really disliked an idea I've had before...

Mistakes are mine and probably plentiful as I write this in the sunshine and pretend I'm back in Australia...

Disclaimer: If I owned it, the finale would have been angst filled and you'd have had to wait till next year to see all that Jisbony goodness so be glad I don't!

Lorelie Martinez was not pleased. This was not what they had been planned for either her or him. This was an out and out disaster and it was all because of the woman sitting across from her. She was royally screwed, she had been named and shamed and she knew her lover would not be able to get her out of this easily.

She tuned out the panic, instead focusing her attention on sizing up her competition. She was highly attractive, sure she had a few years on her own age, but she had to admit she looked good up close unfortunately. She had hoped the pictures she had been sent identifying her were unrealistically flattering, but nope they were accurate. What unnerved her more though was their similarities... he clearly had a type, petite, brunette, big eyes... misleadingly delicate.

Lisbon was prattling on about how it was so rare to talk to someone who knew Red John so well, when actually she was on equally good terms with the man... technically. It brought a genuine smile to her lips, their stupidity.

Oh how she longed to shove it in that sanctimonious bitch's face and Patrick Jane's too, to see their world torn apart. He really had no idea. He was so caught up with his pointless questions and thought's that were obviously plaguing the both of them; why me? Who is he, who is next...blah, blah, blah.

She can tell his main issue though, the one that keeps him up at night... why doesn't Red John just kill me? It amuses her how Jane has made such odd suppositions on the answer to this, when really Red John couldn't, it was as simple as that. To kill Jane would be taking his own life. She knew it was a risk when John asked her to reveal herself, to be his link, to go between his two selves but she would do anything for John and she did.

When it came down to it, Red John wanted what everyone wanted, to be unbound. His end goal really was quite simple, get Jane to give up his stranglehold on their body, if they could just get him to quit fighting it, John would be free forever and if she could aid him in achieving that, then she would.

However Jane had missed all the helpful hints left by his alternate personality. She guessed he must be programmed to protect himself from himself, so she supposed she should forgive the sheer idiocy of this Jane, but she just couldn't.

Really John had laid it out on the table, asking him to give up, having a Charlotte lookalike approach Jane, there were hints everywhere. Like a mantra; remember Jane remember. John wanted to know what his mind would do, so close to being exposed.

Jane never questioned his actions about why he had hypnotised the little girl, his self preservation had kicked in. The little girl could identify him, Patrick Jane, as the man who approached and lured her. So he pretended he was saving her instead, hiding the truth from the girls mind and his own knowledge. Jane thinking of someone other than himself? Hardly.

Her eyes flicked to where she had cut Jane with the clippers. She hoped his finger was okay, they gave her so much pleasure it would have been a shame to remove them, but she did as she was told.

It had shocked her that John would want her to take two, but it was part of his appeal, you could never tell what he'd do. She knew instantly which one to take first... his ring finger, the symbol of his marriage and commitment. While a never ending comfort to Jane it weighed on John, an albatross, a reminder of his fractures, his weakness. Not to mention taking it would have been poetic since she had been bedding John long before Jane's wife had passed on. Actually that's why John did it, Angela had caught them.

It's all meaningless now so no point focusing on it, instead she lets her mind drift off back to the hotel room. Oh the sex with Jane was weak and boring like the man himself but when he 'slept' John came alive and they ravished each other for hours, basking in the idea that he could be whole again soon.

Once the Patrick side of his consciousness could marry the idea that it was he who took lives, who created this serial killer persona, and in reality he had killed his family and countless others, the jigsaw would be complete. If only the stubborn fool would see the big picture.

It would be in that moment of clarity that he would be reborn and two would finally be one, but he needed to be willing to accept the monster inside of him. John told her he needed to cut the last tie to Jane's world ... her, Teresa.

Lorelie face snarled at the other woman and Lisbon looked shocked at the turn about of emotions. She was his tether and the only way to break it was by Jane doing it himself. She hadn't understood why John couldn't kill her but he had talked about the act bridging the gaps in his memories and mind. John had almost taken over permanently once when he killed Angela and Charlotte, thinking it would shatter the other personality for good but instead Jane's side had gotten stronger. No for it to work Jane needed to do it, he needed to accept who he was deep down, to stop pretending.

She had spent months working in Vegas, setting up an identity, knowing Jane's subconscious would pull him there, to her. She had asked him in that dingy little bar, to do it, to kill Lisbon and waited with baited breath. He had scoffed stating his killing Lisbon was absurd. She had been disappointed and so very hurt and his reluctance meant they were stuck with him for longer. How can you both hate and love the same man equally.

It was perplexing, how one body could hold such different souls; one strong, unbound, powerful and enigmatic and the other... weak, pitiful, shackled to the moral definitions society forces on us. He was nothing this Jane and having met him her dedication to John had only increased. To share his life with this cockroach was unthinkable; he was a lead weight holding John down.

At least this schizophrenia had been somewhat amusing for her, seeing how the other side lived; she had been immersed in John's world for so long that seeing Jane's had been a source of great enjoyment for her. Like when they had grabbed Luther, seeing the dawning realisation that he had spent many months protecting a monster right here at the C.B.I., oh it had made her tingle. The CBI's best were a bunch of trusting, gullible morons.

She looked at the woman opposite her again, deciding to speak, to taunt her with their relationship. She breathed out the word lover... smugly throwing the knowledge at her rival. But it stemmed from her own insecurities, she needed to know if they were lovers too, Lisbon and Jane.

John never said so but that look of jealousy and hurt when she flaunted both relationships openly was clear. John could have been hiding the fact, protecting her from jealousy, hell he might not even know. The Jane side had gotten good at hiding over the years as proven by the last six months.

John had presumed that Jane's breaking away from the CBI and Lisbon had been the key. That damn woman had been sewing up his tears for years, shoving clumps of stuffing back inside as his own mind worked hard at ripping him apart; she alone was keeping him fighting. By leaving her he had seen his chance.

It had been wondrous in the limo listening to the two personalities interact. Jane unaware that he was talking to himself, asking the questions he had recorded the answers to, it had been surreal. She had sat there as John laid out the breadcrumbs; imagine if they were friends, imagine the life they could lead, imagine if they joined forces together... as one... unstoppable.

So much potential there, instead John rarely got to come out and play anymore now that Jane had moved on, begun healing.

It was unfair, John was a shining star concealed behind the blanket of beige better known as Patrick Jane. She wanted to pull it back, revealing the hidden treasure, bask in his light. If only...

Their night together, hers and Patricks had nothing on the countless ones she had spent with John. The passion, the fear, the lust were all gone, instead she was the predator and he the prey. It was less than satisfactory but she had hoped as the love of his other life it would have been enough to link his fractured souls, to join his plains of existence through their coupling.

Instead his weaker, pathetic side had clung on to her, Teresa Lisbon. Funny the similarities they had developed, while she was devoted to John and he equally dedicated to her, so were Jane and Lisbon as it turned out. Great.

By killing her, the fracture could have healed. The Jane side of him eradicated, they were so close to the truth emerging. A Disciple doesn't necessarily follow a man he can dedicate himself to a train of thought. If she could just get him to realise the artistry of John's work, that it's not a murder but a worshipping of life and its frailty, he would understand. In that moment in that booth when she gave him the option of freedom, freedom from this biplicity that encompasses his life, she hoped he would take it as deep down he must suspect.

She could tell it was John present; he looks at her differently; passionately, reverently, with yearning. Not like the other one, the lesser one. That one instead chooses to revere her, that two bit nobody across from her, the weaker version of herself, it was funny truly.

She raised her eyes to her lover and watched him closely hidden by shadows, while in plain sight his face concealed its true nature in the darkness. So poignant was his dualism; good and evil, yin and yang, two sides of a coin, present but never touching.

The other woman drones on and on while he observes her. They gaze at each other, everything said without a word. His approach has her prickling in excitement as he circles round. She promises out loud that she'll never speak of their union, of who he is. His words talk of eventualities but his actions reassure her. His light squeeze, the tender caress, it is her John promising that he will get her out of this, through death or escape. She pledged herself to him and will fulfil that oath.

Her heart soars, that's how much he loves her to show himself in front of Lisbon and she loves him too, it's why her death, if he asks for it will be given in a split second. He already has her heart if he wishes to stick a knife in it, that's fine. That's what love is, being willing to die for someone, sacrifice and pain mean nothing.

She can see the confusion on Teresa's face as his out of character behaviour registers. He kisses the top of her head to further negate his threatening words with his actions. She can see the other woman knows something is up but she will never make that leap, the one allowing herself to acknowledge that she loves a murderer. That's why John will win, because unlike her, Lisbon can't save Jane if she can't love him fully for who he is.

Authors note: So I never bought into the Jane as Red John thing but on reflection of the last episode I started to question this belief because Simon baker voiced Red John I would almost bet my life on it, almost...

I was listening thinking that sounds like Simon baker then 'Red John' said "its a higher path Patrick" and I was like Oh My God that is him. The inflictions, the accent slips, how he said Patrick... so it begged the question is this Heller messing with us or is he hinting at the truth, or am I just imagining things.

For the record I want to be wrong or it's Heller having a laugh as I'd not be a happy bunny other wise. I was hoping this idea would go away eventually but it's been over a week in my brain so I caved and wrote it.