A/N: Smile, I proudly present: My first one-shot! I like the way it turned out. So, I hope you do, too.
Oh, and I have to say, I wrote this as some kind of write-off, meaning the initial idea and of course this story are all by me, but I offer everyone who's interested to write their own take on "Patrick as a cowboy". For more info, check out the forum "mentalist writing ideas". Really, take a look, it's great!
Disclaimer: Unfortunately The Mentalist, Jane, Lisbon and all the others are not mine..... only in my dreams.
/ ~~~~~~ \
The day had started out so fine. A beautiful day under the warm Sacramento sun. He had even managed to catch a few hours of sleep, undisturbed by nightmares. Yes, it had started as a wonderful day.
Amazing, he thought, how quickly the tide could turn.
Patrick Jane would have chuckled or made some smartass comment that would have totally annoyed the others, especially Lisbon. He would have, had he been able breath.
Sometimes fate went strange ways, really. Patrick for example had always expected to meet his maker while taking on Red John. He had also considered that with his job, combined with his personality, it was possible he might get shot or stabbed by an irate suspect.
Drowning though had never crossed his mind. Especially not under these circumstances...
Earlier that day...
"Okay, Rigsby, Jane, you come with me. Van Pelt, Cho, go to the address Myers gave us and see what you can find there."
Agent Lisbon grabbed the keys to her SUV and started for the door. They had worked a series of robberies that had rapidly gotten more violent.
Jane had been at his best - or worst, depending on who you asked - managing to piss off a police officer, two lawyers and their clients in record time. Thinking back on how livid one of their witnesses, a Frank Zucc, had been it was really a wonder that Jane was still breathing.
Still, of course, their consultant's audacity had yet again led them to the most likely culprit, Jason Acker, and the next location he would hit. So, now Lisbon, Jane and Rigsby were on their way to Folsom Lake.
The drive went by relatively quick with Jane's and Rigsby's banter filling the interior of the car.
Soon they turned into the parking lot at a small harbour.
A quick look around the place revealed their prime suspect leaning casually against a lamp post chatting with one of the dock workers.
"Jane, you stay at the car", Lisbon's eyes bore into his and the blonde shrugged, smiling broadly.
"I mean it. None of your stunts, understood?"
His smile broadened into a what, me?- expression.
"Aye, aye, madam!"
He saluted her. With a smile of her own, Lisbon turned to Rigsby and together they wandered over to where Acker was still talking.
Jane waited, watching the two agents address the man. A guy of average height, compact, muscular built. His dark brown hair cropped short, military style, the tight shirt he wore added to that impression. A seemingly tough guy, at least at the first look. But to Patrick Jane it was obvious that Jason Acker wasn't a streetwise hardass. His body language revealed him as a boy from a middle-class family.
The boring life of a good and stable home hadn't offered enough thrill and Jason had tried to find his excitement another way, seeking the ultimate adrenaline rush.
Patrick shook his head. Too easy to read.
Lisbon and Rigsby were now talking to the man, starting off with light conversation before delivering the killing blow, so to speak.
Jane sighed. This could take a while.
He knew Lisbon would be furious if he went over to them now. But he really wasn't a patient, wait-at-the-car type of person. So instead he let his eyes wander, landing on a group of children who were obviously playing some kind of role play at the edge of the dock.
Seeing nothing else of interest Jane strolled over to the kids.
"Hi", he said, trademark smile in place.
"Hi!"
One of the small boys, a blonde with soft freckles answered, grinning from ear to ear.
"What are you playing?"
He crouched down to be at eye-level with them. The other boy, hair a flaming red, beat his friend to reply.
"I'm a cowboy!", he declared proudly, then pointed at the other. "And Chuck is an Indian!"
Jane nodded thoughtfully.
"And what are a cowboy and an Indian doing here?"
The blonde, Chuck, looked at him as if he had grown another head.
"We're fighting!"
Patrick smiled at the kid's statement, indignant, as if it were obvious. Well, it was, but still.
"I see. And who is winning?"
"Me!", both boys answered in unison.
Before they could really start a fight, Jane quickly intervened.
"Hey, may I join in? I'm a real good cowboy."
The two friends looked at each other, silently communicating, before nodding.
"Okay, but then we are both Indians."
Jane had to suppress his laughter at their serious faces, instead he settled for an easy smile.
"Isn't that unfair, two against one?"
"Nuh-uh", the red-head replied. "You're old, you can take us on."
"Geez, thank you", the CBI consultant chuckled.
Then he shrugged.
"Alright, what do I have to do now?"
Five minutes later, the two Indians had cornered John Wayne Jane and tied him up with a rope from one of the boats.
In spite of his arms bound tightly to his chest and his legs tied together, the cowboy didn't give up. Between breathless laughter and the war cries of his opponents, Jane hopped along the edge of the dock, his pursuers hot on his heels.
Unfortunately fate chose that moment to remind him that good days don't last. The blonde consultant looked back to see how fast the boys were gaining on him when something barrelled into him hard. As if hit by a truck, Jane lost his footing and, tied like a Christmas present, he went over the edge - literally.
/ ~~~~~~ \
Agent Teresa Lisbon felt her irritation rise with each passing second. Jason Acker was a tough cookie, as Rigsby would say. They had danced around the subject for over fifteen minutes already, without really getting anything from him. It was unnerving.
"So, you want to tell us you have never been at that convenience store?", Rigsby tried once again. "And you seriously think we believe you?"
Acker shrugged cockily.
"Never been anywhere, dude."
Lisbon restrained herself from throttling the smartass then and there. Instead she pulled out her hand cuffs; they had evidence linking him to at least one crime scene.
"Mr. Acker, how about we continue this lovely conversation at the office."
What happened next shouldn't have come as a surprise, but after a seemingly endless talk neither agents really expected it. Acker took off.
He ran, legs pumping along the dock, pushing everything and everyone aside who might get in his way.
After a moment of disbelief, Lisbon and Rigsby chased after him. The later pulling out his phone and calling for back-up while pursuing their fleeing subject.
Lisbon didn't even want to think about what Jane would say afterwards. He would have a field day rubbing their mistake into their faces.
Well, they earned it.
All thoughts of retaliation for the consultant's unavoidable teasing evaporated though, as her eyes took in the sight a short distance away.
The consultant in question was hopping awkwardly over the asphalt, tied up with what looked like a strong rope and followed by two screeching kids. It would have been hilarious under different circumstances.
Then time seemed to slow down. The edge! Jane was too close to the edge!
She wanted to shout out a warning. Anything to stop what was unravelling in front of her eyes. But really, it was inevitable.
Acker ran into Jane who had just turned his head to look back at the two boys.
A startled yelp.
A big splash.
"Jane!"
In the blink of an eye time sped up again and Lisbon rushed to were the blonde consultant had disappeared. Rigsby was hot ion her heels, trusting back-up to catch the running man.
"Oh my god!"
He stared at the water in shocked awe. The two both behind him with mouths hanging open and eyes the size of saucers.
Lisbon only spared a quick glance at the surface of Folsom Lake. She hurriedly took out her gun and pressed it into Rigsby's hand.
She didn't allow herself to think about how long Jane had already been under the surface, most likely with almost no air supply, since the fall had come unexpectedly for him.
No, Agent Lisbon didn't think about what it could mean that there were no bubbles rising. No thought about what the hell she would do if - No! She wouldn't let him off this easy!
Bracing herself for the cold, Lisbon jumped headlong into the lake.
The cold hit her first, but she quickly brushed it off. Her eyes adjusted to the blurred vision of an underwater scene and hurriedly scanned her surroundings.
A few tense moments long, all she could see was bluish-green lake water and particles diffusing the atmosphere, adding a surreal touch to it all.
Panic, born from fierce worry and concern threatened to take hold, when - There! She could see him.
/ ~~~~~~ \
For a few seconds he was floating. Seemingly weightless.
Usually nothing could really take Patrick by surprise, but he honestly hadn't calculated this! A startled yelp escaped his throat as his brain realised that his feet didn't have contact to the ground anymore.
And then, suddenly, the world collapsed around him. He crashed through an ice cold mirror, the shards piercing his flesh. Was this how Alice had felt when she fell through the rabbit hole?
Jane always prided himself on a quick grasp on events, but that very moment it took alarmingly long for his befuddled mind to notice that - oh my god - he couldn't breath, immediately followed by the realization that he couldn't move either!
He mentally kicked himself for not putting the facts together sooner. The boys, the game, he entangled tightly in unyielding rope, the most likely desperate suspect, the lake.
Acker must have pushed him and tied as he was, he had had no chance of not crashing into the water.
Already his vision became blurry, his chest screaming in agony for only a little air. And the logical conclusion hit him, he was drowning. Dying because of his impatience and, admittedly, a good deal of stupidity.
Man, Lisbon would be furious.
Bubbles escaped his mouth, his body starting to fight against the rope. Instinct was kicking in.
It was weird, he thought, mind oddly detached from his material shell. This day had started out so fine.
Darkness approached quickly. Damn, he was tired. Perhaps he should sleep. Yea, sleep would be good; he'd just close his eyes for a second and hope the pressure in his lungs would ease.
/ ~~~~~~ \
Agent Rigsby had to use every ounce of self-restraint to not jump in immediately after his boss.
He had often been told that he was like a very protective guard dog, especially where his team mates, his friends were concerned. And he counted Jane as just that.
Which was why in his mind two desires were fighting fiercely for dominance. On the one hand he wanted to throttle Jason Acker with his bare hands, on the other he wanted only to dive into the lake and find Jane.
What was taking so long?! Rigsby knew in reality only a few moments had passed, but to him it felt like an eternity.
What if they were already too late? What if-
There! His dark-haired boss broke through the surface with a gasp. Her arms were tightly wrapped around another body, one with blonde curly hair, darkened by the water.
At first Rigsby wanted to cheer; she had him!
Then it became clear that Jane wasn't moving, unconscious or - No! The alternative wasn't acceptable!
"Lisbon!", he called out to her, while the small woman fought to drag the much taller man through the cold lake.
It wasn't far by any means, but both agents knew that time was of the essence.
Again Rigsby fidgeted at the edge, crouching low, so that he could take a hold of the unmoving consultant and heave him out of his deep blue trap.
Finally after what felt like ages, Lisbon was close enough and he grabbed Jane as careful as possible and pulled.
The blonde wasn't heavy for a guy, but he wasn't a lightweight either and in combination with his soaked clothes Rigsby had to use all his strength. Gritting his teeth, arms strained as far as they would go. A final pull, Patrick Jane lay still on the sun-warmed asphalt.
Lisbon quickly climbed out herself, immediately rushing to their friend's side. She couldn't help the sharp intake of breath when she got her first good look at him.
Jane was white as a sheet, his hair plastered to his head. But what was the most terrifying was the blue tinge of his lips. He wasn't breathing.
"Rigsby, call 9-1-1! Now!"
The hardly controlled voice of his boss broke Rigsby out of his initial shock. He fumbled hastily for his cell phone with one hand while the other grabbed for his knife to cut off the restricting rope. It definitely was one reason why Jane's breathing was impaired.
Lisbon sharply ordered her colleague to call for an ambulance. Trusting in the other's capability, she then turned her full attention to Jane.
It was scaring her senseless to see him so unnaturally still. Patrick Jane was never still!
But she decidedly pushed these thoughts aside and went to start CPR.
In any other situation the thought of her lips meeting his would have caused her to blush heavily, but as it was she didn't even realise it.
Out of the corner of her eye she saw Rigsby cutting through the offending bindings, thankfully freeing him from the reason for their predicament.
"Come on, Jane! Come on! Breathe, damn it!", she muttered, desperately needing to see his crystal blue eyes.
Time seemed to come to a standstill, her heart hammering in her chest and the pale features in front of her the only things really registering with her mind.
Lisbon was near tears, ready to beg if it would make the blonde, incredible irritating, but oh-so-adorable, stubborn, crazy and brilliant bastard take a breath!
The salty liquid was starting to fall, when suddenly the body beneath her hands shuddered and Jane began coughing, gasping for air like a fish on dry land.
To Teresa Lisbon it was the most beautiful sound she had ever heard. Overcoming her relieved paralysis, she carefully turned him onto his side to help him get rid of the water he had inhaled.
"Jane? Jane!", she softly shook his shoulder, needing to get some kind of proof that he really was back.
Eye lids fluttered first before revealing dazed blue orbs. He cracked a tired smile.
Lisbon could have cried with joy. Or rip his head off for being so unbelievable stupid!
Yet, both could wait, as the sound of sirens drew nearer.
Another wet hack of coughing, before Jane grinned softly up at his boss and croaked hoarsely what he had just decided.
"Never gonna play cowboy again..."