RED-EYED RAVEN
"Audiences are only interested in the beginnings and endings of relationships, not all the tedious good times in the middle."—Cracked.
Disclaimer: The Mentalist is not mine. The story, all of it, is.
Author's note: Post-Red John. I take inspirations from The Wire, Homeland, and Buffy. This story may turn to multi-chapter later, but at this point it is as complete as they come.
MALIBU
Patrick Jane found Teresa Lisbon on his bed.
"Last night you're too drunk to fuck. Today you're too hangover."
She lay half-awake on her stomach. Beneath her sheet she was naked. She was beautiful as always, her raven hair, her pale skin. He entered, shed open her sheet. She took it back. He slid beside her.
"What's the most useless thing on a man?"
She grumbled.
"A drunk brunette."
Another grumble.
"Lisbon. How many drinks you had last night?"
"I don't know. Eight shots. Stoli. Stoli and—I can't remember."
"You're an idiot."
"An idiot you love."
Something icy gripped Jane's heart. Yes. He loved Lisbon. He'd take a bullet, even a rocket, for her. And he knew she'd do the same for him. They trusted each other with their lives. But this...
He took her iPhone. Lady Antebellum's Need You Now was on pause. Maybe she'd listened to that before she arrived last night to get herself eager. He switched to Pandora and settled to a screamo and tucked the earplugs on her ears.
"Fuck!" She yanked the earplugs and turned around and threw her pillow at him. No, she wasn't up yet, but at least she finally opened her eyes. "Why did you do that?"
"To make you awake."
"Okay, you succeeded." She took his pillow, turning around, her eyes closing again. "Now let me be. Or." She faced him, licked her lips in that irresistible way of hers. "You can join me."
"No."
"Why not?"
"You need to move on."
"I can't. I'm bored without you."
"What you're doing, it's obvious."
"I thought you'd liked it."
"Being used like a goalpost so you can distract yourself. No. I don't like it. I've been waiting the moment you scream 'Oh, yeah, Stanfield. That's so good. Gimme some of that.'"
"He is a hard case, Jane." Lisbon chuckled. "Hard case..."
"Stanfield is a slimy cunt, of that I have no doubt. Perhaps as a slimy as Volker or Stiles or Flynn. But at this point there's nothing we could do but to trust Ardiles."
"Ah, yes. Sure. Ardiles. Our beloved, ever-cooperative ADA. Since when you trust him?"
"I don't. But 'll trust him if that can take your mind off the case."
"You see, Jane, in case you haven't noticed all these years, cases don't end when we handcuff the bad guy. This isn't TV, Hollywood, or fanfiction. This is reality. There's due process of law. Right now, instead of forcing Stanfield's lawyer to accept plea bargain that will put Stanfield behind bars for life, Ardiles are probably holding hands with Stanfield in Disneyland."
"Probably. All probablies. You let that probability consume you."
She reached his neck. "And I'm going to let you consume me."
She turned his head for a backward kiss, but Jane held his face. He slapped her ass and turned and got up. Still persisting, she pulled his pants and tugged him down. She giggled while he forced himself up for real.
"Don't do this again."
"This."
"Show up at my door at two in the morning, drunk, without invitation. Do that again, I'll call the cops."
"I am a cop, Jane. A statie."
"Lisbon."
"And it's not going to work."
"It."
"Whatever ploy you want to deploy. Even the AG knows about us. I'm your girlfriend."
"I—"
"Don't say you don't love me, Jane. It's too obvious a lie. Too stupid, even."
"You see, Lisbon, in case you haven't noticed all your life, love isn't something that sticks with you forever after your declare it. This isn't TV, Hollywood, or Fanfiction. This is reality. There are feelings a couple has to consider. Right now, instead of enjoying my moments with you, I feel used."
"Did you plan that?"
"What?"
"Throw back everything I said. I thought everyone talks the first draft. You sound like the dialogue I read in novels. No repetition, no mumbling, no self-correction."
"Maybe I'm just that eloquent a speaker."
"Maybe. But back to the point." She tapped her naked chest. "You feel used. All feelies. You let your feeling consume you."
"Yes."
"We're adults. We all use each other."
"I don't want to just be with you. I want to have you."
"Well, life is full of disappointments."
"You disappoint me."
"I disappoint you?"
He wanted to say something, but she got up, her red eyes suddenly alive with anger.
"You used me all the time to get Red John. What can you say about that?"
Silence.
"Nothing that can satisfy you," Jane finally said.
"And you're right."
She stood. He stepped back as if punched by invisible hands. This fierce petite brunette scared him more than anything else in this world.
"The least you can do for me now is hand me some aspirin."