I do not own Mentalist.
This fanfic is the English version of a Portuguese one (also made by me).
The story happens after chapter 11, from the second season.
Saying 'I Love you'
Are not the words I want to hear from you
It's not that I want you not to say
But if you only knew
How easy it would be to show me how you feel
Lisbon was in love with Patrick.
Let's start with an elucidation that, in fact, is more than obvious.
The only problem was that Lisbon was not used to those feelings.
She liked a boy on high school. Somebody, not important at all, who never looked her in the eyes.
But Patrick looked. He look her in the eyes every day, and take from them her most hidden secrets. Could he read her mind? Maybe. In fact, Lisbon was pretty close from praying for such a thing not to be true.
Because, though a simple mind reading was the best way to confess her love, this was the last thing she wanted.
It was wrong. Just wrong. The CBI was very clear about this kind of issue. It's forbidden the relationship between co-workers.
No… it was more than that.
Patrick was not in love with her. He couldn't stop thinking about revenge against Red John. Well, he is stills wearing his wedding ring. He doesn't even considerate himself as widower. She would never have a chance.
No… more than that.
And at the same time, less than that.
Bullshit. Bullshit from a girl that has never grown-up. Or grew up too much.
Of course, the other reasons were much more relevant, but not to her. Not to the agent Lisbon. The bullshit was nothing more than pride, and it prevented her from letting herself accept her feelings about the blond guy.
Maybe because of that she was often getting angry about his games, being cold and ironic. Because she felt like that, and if she was able to let him be as charming as he really was, there would have no turning back
What she didn't realize was that there wasn't turning back already.
What to say, then? That he had a wonderful perfume, and that now Lisbon was holding to into the edge of an abyss called "love", at the same time that she hold that blond guy, with closed eyes, dancing to the sound of "More than words".
How did she get to this situation? Why did she accept to dance with him? What was she thinking about, by the way?
It was just an investigation. A reunion party for some people that studied together fifteen years ago, not with her or him, but with a murdered man.'
And that song… She has always loved that song. She loves that song. She loves that man.
- Trumpet?
Lisbon smiled. For quite some time he was trying to guess the instrument that she used to play in high school. The way he tried to guess so suddenly made she laugh.
- No.
Then she closed her eyes and danced.
Let's be honest.
Who in the world would Lisbon dance with?
'Is there, in any place on our minds, the possibility of a dance with Risgby? Cho?
No.
What else does Patrick need to realize that she is in love with him?
What about him?
Does he love her?
The biggest mystery in Lisbon's head.
Because she wouldn't dance with anyone else, but Patrick would dance with any woman without forgetting his wife. Would he dance with Van Pelt? Why not? He knew well how to deal with these things.
All Lisbon wanted was one sign. Just one proof that he could feel the same. Or even a tip, something that he would do only for her.
He had no idea of how easy it would be.
But he doesn't love her.
No, he doesn't. Maybe not. Probably not.
More than words
Is all you have to do to make it real
Then you wouldn't have to say
That you love me 'cause I'd already know
The song stopped and gave place to any other. The bodies were separated from each other. She was red. Patrick made sure to point that out, as always.
- You're blushing.
- It's hot in here.
He smiled. She got even more red-faced. As he already said, it was very easy, at least for Jane, to know when she is lying. And she probably only remembers that after the fake excuse.
- Don't you look at me this way, Jane.
- This way? How?
- Smiling as if I was lying.
- I don't think you are lying. I'm sure of that. You are…
- An open book to you. – she finished his sentence, before he could do it.
- Your irritation is what intrigues me.
- Something about me intrigues you? You seem to know what I am thinking all the time. – she complained, crossing her arms, and uncrossing right after. She was unquiet.
- Let's say that I know why you blushed, or at least I have a good guess. Then you get angry, what goes against my guess. That intrigues me.
- Do I do that?
- All the time.
- Great. – she concluded, leaving the dance floor and heading to the exit
He followed her, of course, they would leave in the same car.
In the exit corridor, Rigsby passed by her.
- Boss, you're blushed.
Now she was really, really blushed, but this time because she was angry, 'Patrick seems to hear that and laugh behind her back.
- Why don't you just leave me alone? – she said, angrily, turning her back and speaking louder than she actually wanted.
Some people stopped and looked at her. Lisbon got embarrassed and started walking to the car, head down
- Can I drive?
Jane appeared from God knows where.
- No. – she answered, fast and furious.
- But you are too angry to drive.
- If you drive, I'll be angrier.
Patrick raised his hands, as if surrendered, and entered to the passenger seat.
- Why are you so angry?
- Do I have reasons to be happy?
- You looked happy minutes ago.
- Who said I was happy?
Patrick looked at the sky through the window.
- Seems like it's gonna rain.
- Of course not, the sky is clean and the moon is beautiful.
The blond guy smiled.
- Good to know that the cranky lady is still noticing these things.
- Do you wonder why I'm nervous? You make me angry. I mean, why did you have to start that brawl? Why are you always getting into trouble?
- It's not why you're angry.
- And why do you always have to try to figure out when I'm lying and when I'm telling the truth?
- Sorry, I don't do it to annoy you. Even if I say nothing, I'll always know when you are telling me lies.
- No, you won't. You say I'm an open book to you, but you don't know the most important part of me.
- Lisbon….
- You know I was harsh with myself in high school, you know I spent the day of thanksgiving eating ice cream and watching old movies alone ...
- Lisbon ..
- You know the geometric shapes that I think randomly, you know I played an instrument as a teenager, and for God! you know I was in love with a jerk who never looked at me, but you do not know the most important.
- Lisbon ...
- WHAT?
- The traffic light!
The wheels slid down, the back of the truck turned until it stopped in the middle of the intersection, and soon as it happened, another car hit them strongly.
To be continued.
Thanks to:
Beta Reader: Vanessa Z. Souza