Rusting Irony: Both Jane and Lisbon want to make a move – the irony is that both are too damaged and scared of rejection to try.
Disclaimer: If I owned The Mentalist, this fic would be obsolete as they would already be together.
Patrick Jane ran a restless hand through his already-tousled blonde curls as he stared listlessly at the ceiling, realising he was about to face yet another sleepless night. He'd had a lot of those since his family was brutally slaughtered by Red John. He gazed out of his window into the dark night, lit up by a gleaming full moon, and scrunched up his ocean-blue eyes to keep out the light. He detested the California nights, short as they were, as he lay, clammy and tortured on his frameless mattress.
When he slept, he had teasing dreams where his wife's beautiful smiling face would taunt him from behind bars his hands couldn't reach through. When he was awake, his mind raced with thoughts of revenge, and how he could exact it on Red John without Lisbon being implicated.
Lisbon. Subconsciously, he turned up the corners of his mouth at the thought of his fiery-tempered, raven-haired Senior Agent. She was so noble, yet genuinely humble. Direct, but shy-she hated being the centre of attention-unlike him, the circus monkey. And beautiful, he thought, as he pictured her fierce emerald eyes and thick chocolaty hair, followed by her subtle curves and slender legs…Suddenly waves of guilt washed over him as he realised where his mind was going. He had to avenge Angela dammit! He couldn't afford any distractions. And anyway, he berated his own brain, it could never happen. She would never want you.
Teresa Lisbon sighed as she shifted position in her cold bed, unable to get comfortable enough to sleep. She usually slept easily, but tonight something was different. Her bed felt…empty. Really empty. For the first time in a long time, she felt lonely. She huffed and flipped over again, her legs tangled in the sheets as a result of all her tossing and turning.
Restlessly she sat up and looked out the window, seeing nothing but the ethereal light of a full moon in the sky. She loved night-time in California, being able to see the moon was still a novelty after growing up in smoky Chicago. She smiled as she thought how ridiculous it was to feel sad and lonely when she was somewhere so beautiful. Besides, she thought, if I don't hurry up and sleep there's no way I can put up with Jane in the morning.
Jane. Without meaning to, she chuckled at the thought of her irksome, incorrigible, blonde-haired consultant. He was so cheerful despite constantly fighting his vengeful demons. And more magnetic and confident than she could ever hope to be, attracting interest wherever he went; unlike her-always the wallflower. And handsome, she thought, imagining his piercing blue eyes and wavy golden curls, all propped up by his tanned, muscular body…She stopped short and blushed ferociously, redness creeping steadily into her pale complexion as she realised the direction her sleepy thoughts were taking her in. For God's sakes, it was against the CBI rules! Did she want to lose her job? She was finally high up and successful in a good career, she couldn't afford any distractions. And anyway, she scolded herself, it could never happen. He would never want you.