Spoilers: Well not really but it was inspired by aspects of the season 4 episode 'So Long, and Thanks for All the Red Snapper'.

Disclaimer: Me? Own The Mentalist, you're kidding right, I don't own a thing!

She had no idea what she was doing here. This wasn't a place she would normally go, yet here she was. Everything had felt off lately, she was so confused, and her agreeing to be here only added to that confusion.

As she sat her car in park it started to drizzle outside. The weakened fall sun peaked out through scattered holes in the grey sky. That, together with the rain - that increased in intensity by the minute - made the large and slightly off-white house, she'd pulled up in front of, look rather ominous. She looked in the rearview mirror, silent tears had been running down her cheeks the whole drive over there leaving faint tracks she now was trying her best to erase. She opened the car door, stepping out onto the paved, wet surface. Her heels clicked as she walked the length of the driveway, click clack, click clack. It was pouring down now, her jacket was getting soaked and her hair was starting to cling to her head. She ascended the stairs one step at a time, click, clack.

She stood for a second in front of the door, wavering undecided, looking up she let the rain mingle with the remaining traces of her tears, then she rang the doorbell.

xxx

The door opened to reveal a man with golden curls in a grey three piece suit. He looked her over then said: "You better come in before you get drenched." She did as suggested, stepping over the threshold and into the hallway, letting him take her jacket and accepting the towel he handed her in exchange. She dried off her hair, which in turn made it stand out like she'd been in a little too close contact with a power outlet. She didn't mind, wasn't self-conscious about such things. She handed the towel back to him with a "thank you" and he led her into the living room. She followed quietly. While she sat down on the couch he went to get them something to drink. She looked around, everything was very neat and clean, almost too much so, like there weren't actually living anybody in this house. It didn't take long before he came back with two steaming cups of tea. He sat down next to her and just observed her for a minute or two. She was a petite woman, of seize only. He sensed that she was stronger than she looked. She possessed a sort of damaged intensity, old pain he guessed, but there was also new scars, which was what would have prompted her to come to him. She didn't really look like his usual clientele.

She looked up into his blue eyes, with gorgeous wintergreen ones. She was getting nervous under his scrutinizing gaze. "So how is this thing supposed to work?" She asked.

He smiled, and it was so infectious that it made her relax a bit. "It works differently for everybody. Usually I need physical contact with a person or an object." He didn't, not really, he just felt this strange urge to touch this woman. She however had leaned back a little, and crossed her arms over her chest, in short she'd closed off her body language. She might not be the touchy/feely give-me-a-hug kinda gal nor the stoic I-don't-give-a-rats-ass type, it was just not everybody that was comfortable letting other people into their private spheres, it all came down to a matter of trust and that was something that needed to be earned. And he wanted to earn hers, which made him continue: "...but sometimes things just come to me. It's hard to explain really."

"Mr. Jane I'm not really a believer in this sort of things." She began, but he cut her off setting his tea down on the table, holding his hand up with a gesture that said wait just a minute, then he took a deep breath for effect, half closing his eyes and said: "I'm getting something. I sense that you're troubled... Something has happened… recently... in your family. Something to do with... your husband."

"Yes that's right. That's why I'm here. But that's easily deducted."

"Ahh the skeptic. I see. Ok then. Give me a change to get a better reading on this. Give me your hands." He held out his arms stretching out his palms at her. Her head turned slightly askew and her eyes narrowed like she was thinking 'what game are you playing at mister'. He smiled disarmingly at her again and he could tell she battled internally for control before she finally surrendered her hands to his. Her hands were soft. One was warm from holding the tea the other cold from the rain. With his thumbs he rubbed small calming circles on the top of her hands. Again he took a deep breath, letting it out slowly, he used the time to find her pulse. It was a bit thready, which showed that she was still uncomfortable with the situation, so he decided it was best to try and get her to relax just a little more, maybe put her in a light trance or something.

"Okay Teresa, I want you to take a deep relaxing cleansing breath with me." She cast him a sidelong glance, but did as she was told. "Good. Yes that's it. Fine. Now I want you to close your eyes and listen very carefully to the sound of my voice."

"You are not going to hypnotize me, are you?"

"Just relax. Close your eyes. I'm not hypnotizing you."

"You better not be." That earned her a smile which she however didn't see having already closed her eyes and were about to take another breath.

"Okay. Now think of the happiest place you can imagine." Her lips curled up, she was smiling now. He studied her face, she was a beautiful woman. He noticed she had this adorable little dimple when she smiled, it made him smile also. He continued talking in a low, monotone voice, lulling her into a calm and relaxing state.

He slowly let go of her now warm hands, letting them rest on her lap. He didn't want to disturb her, she looked like she needed the rest and she seemed so peaceful at that moment. Sitting there with her frizzy dark hair, she was such a contrast to the otherwise cream coloured furniture and the whole white and nondescript room. He took away the tea, cleaned up, came back and she was still sitting there like his own private little statue. There was no getting around it though, he had to move this along. Gently he took her hands again, saying: "You can open your eyes now." She did, blinking a few times in the process letting her brain catch up. She let go of his hands.

"How did you do that?" She asked slightly puzzled.

"Do what?" He knew what, but wanted her to acknowledge it as well.

"I feel different... Less burdened. Relaxed." The surprise in her tone, attested the fact that he'd made a lasting impression on this woman, and judging from her choice of words it was a good one too.

"I told you it works differently for different people."

"Hmm." She looked around, noticing something had changed but couldn't quite put her finger on what it was exactly, having forgotten about the tea completely.

"Okay are you ready for this." He gestured in front of himself.

"Yes." She said with a newfound confidence.

"Okay, so why have you come to see me."

"It was like you said... my husband..." Her voice broke just a tad.

"You think he's having an affair." Most spouses instinctively knew these kinds of things, but at the same time not wanting them to be true, wanting someone else to reassure them that they were mistaken, even though the best thing for them would be to face facts, come to terms with it, figure things out or leave all together.

"Yes." It was all she could say without starting to cry again.

"And you want me to tell you if you're correct."

She hesitated a little then said. "See the thing is, my friend told me about you. That you could get in contact with her dead cousin. And that you knew things about her that nobody did. You knew her baby was going to be a boy, you knew before her that her husband was going to run away with his secretary and stuff like that. And so when I told her I suspected my husband of sleeping with someone else, she said I should go see you."

"And you were reluctant at first, but you still came."

"That's right."

"Have you asked your husband about it?"

"I tried talking to him, yes. He just avoids it saying there's nobody else."

"But you don't believe him."

"I don't know what to believe anymore." She said sniffling a little.

"Okay. Give me your hand." She held out her right one, this time without a second thought. She was hooked. He took it and started his channeling. "I'm getting something... a name... a G, I'm getting a G."

"My husband's name is Greg."

"Greg. That's it. Yes I see Greg and he's... he's not alone. I can't see where. A boat maybe."

"We don't have a boat. And we don't know anybody that owns one either."

"No. no that's because it's the woman's. The woman he's with."

"So he is seeing someone?"

"I'm sorry." He said and meant it for once. "But if you look into yourself, deep down, you can feel that I'm right. That you were right too, to trust your instincts."

She nodded almost imperceptible. Took her hand back and wiped away a stray tear.

She made a move to get up and go. "Thank you, Mr. Jane." She didn't really know what she was thanking him for, all he'd done was confirm her suspicion, with undocumented accusations about some boat, that may not even exist.

"I know you doubt me, but you owe yourself to find out, if not for you then for the sake of your girls."

She looked at him questioningly. "How do you know I have children?"

"You have three... girls."

"Yes I do. How did you...? You know, never mind."

While she paid him, she tried making small talk. "So are you married Mr. Jane, any kids?"

"No I never had that privilege." He said sounding a bit sad.

"Well. It's never too late, you'll find the woman of your dreams someday." She said being the reassuring one this time.

She followed him out into the hall. Took her jacket and was about to open the door when he said: "You're welcome to come again sometime."

"Thank you, but I still don't think I quite believe in this psychic thing or what it is you're doing here."

"That's okay. Then maybe we could just go out for coffee or something."

"Mr. Jane. I'm a married woman."

"Not for long Mrs. Marshall. Not for long." They smiled at each other and she went out the door and down the steps shaking her head at his bluntness. Sure he was charming and kind, but she needed to figure out her life first, before she would feel comfortable with having men hitting on her.

It had stopped raining, the autumn sun had dispersed of the heavy rain clouds leaving behind a light blue sky sprinkled with the smaller fluffier kind of clouds. He stood in the doorway looking after her vanishing form. And for some reason he couldn't help feeling that he might have just let the one get away, but still he had this unexplainable feeling that she would come back. Someday.

A/N: I really liked Greg he seemed nice, and I don't think he's the adulteress type, (unlike his wife) but he had to be in here and hey it's an AU fic so everything goes right. And also I think their boat was owned by both Greg and his wife, but for the sake of the fic it's only hers here. And obviously Jane didn't marry Angela, so there's no Charlotte and no RJ killing them. So fun times all around except for the affair thing of course.

And well I'm no psychic, but I tried to emulate what Jane does on the show. I hope it gave the effect it was supposed to. But if I could read minds I'd definitely use that superpower to find out what Bruno Heller and TPTB are up to these days! Not long now till season 5, I'm excited who's with me?