Teal Eyes and Titian Hair

By: DemonClowSorceress

Disclaimer: The Mentalist only belongs to CBS. I just watch it and wish the Jisbon would happen already.

Summery: A girl walks into the CBI to see Patrick Jane. Lisbon wonders who she is - and whose she is - when the girl begins behaving in a very familiar way.

CBI Headquarters, Sacramento

9:45 A.M.

Mondays suck.

Teresa Lisbon knew this from bitter experience, slugging back another shot of coffee from her mug. Outside it was murky gray skies and dark rain that mirrored the senior agent's foul mood, as if assuring her that the day was only going to get worse. Grace Van Pelt came into the bullpen and immediately plopped down in her chair. Throwing a tired smile to Wayne Rigsby, she fell to typing up reports from their last case. Kimball Cho, already in for an hour, continued reading the case file from their last case. Lisbon rolled her head around her neck, trying to wake up.

It was hard enough waking up most days after a long night doing paperwork. But this kind of Monday, after a relaxing Sunday evening that consisted of a luxurious bubble bath, reading a good book she'd been meaning to get to, and having absolutely no thoughts of work or a certain reddish-blond irritating mentalist, was something Lisbon needed loads of caffiene to even begin her day on a good note. Especially when the first thing she saw on this Monday morning was the same annoying consultant lounging on his couch, his eyes closed and serene as if he didn't have a care in the world.

That level of relaxation on a Monday morning should be criminal, she thought, grouchy and tired. "Jane, get up."

"What for?" came his lazy reply. "There's no case to solve, no attorney to annoy, and no paperwork to do. Frankly, it's quite boring today." He turned on his side, a smile touching his lips. "You're just grumpy because it's raining and it's Monday, Lisbon. You probably want to get back home and finish reading that book you were reading last night. Lemme guess, a crime novel with some steamy romance scenes, right?"

God I hate him right now. "Jane, get up off your ass now. Don't make me dump my coffee on your head and beat you with my mug."

Now one blue eye opened as his smile turned impish. "But you won't," he stated in a teasing tone. "You won't, because you love your morning coffee more than anything. That and that mug has sentimental value to you. A gift from your brothers, maybe?"

I REEEEEEAAAALLLY hate this guy. Why do I even keep him around? Lisbon knew the answer to that stupid question. For all his faults, Patrick Jane helped clear cases. He was arrogant, childish, had no concept or respect for rules or laws, annoyed every suspect and cop and civil worker he encountered, and had the reputation of being a loose cannon - but he solved cases.

And Teresa Lisbon, although she'd denied it for the year-and-change that they'd worked together, harbored an unmistakeable attraction towards the mentalist.

Oh, she hid it well. Through every one of Jane's "mind-reading" tricks, she'd lie and scoff and lie some more, then redirect the conversation to the case at hand. Every time someone even hinted towards a relationship between them, Lisbon would firmly deny any such thing. After a while, people began to believe them. After all, who would argue with Teresa Lisbon, CBI legend and one of the best shots in the agency?

Jane would also deny any romance, but for different reasons - he still referred to himself as married. Even after all these years, his marriage band still remained on his finger. He could never truly stop loving his wife and daughter. And he'd never stop hunting the man who took them away. Red John.

Lisbon's thoughtful musings were cut short by a security guard, who was arguing with someone unseen by the elevators. "Hey wait! Hey, you can't just barge in saying you know someone who works here! Tell the truth now!"

She dismissed it as a nosy reporter or an attorney (not her problem today, thank God) when she heard a very, very familiar response spoken in a totally unfamiliar female voice.

"Truth. Darth Vader? Luke's father."

Lisbon blinked, sure she was hearing things. Jane, however, sat up a bit. He twisted to glance over at the unseen person and raised an eyebrow in surprise. "It's okay Ernie, let her in."

Into the team area walked a little girl. She was dressed in a pair of patched blue jeans with a button down blouse and sneakers, with a black raincoat that she was hanging up on the coat rack. Her long hair was loose, full of curls, and sported a plait along each side of her heart-shaped face. She shook out her little yellow umbrella and left it to dry outside the bullpen. Lisbon noted that her right wrist sported a watch that was too big for her and her left wrist had a little silver charm bracelet, and a chain dangled from her neck with no visible ornamentation.

But Lisbon was focused primarily on the newcomer's physical appearance. It was like looking at a carbon copy of Jane, but much shorter with longer hair. Her eyes were a bit more green than Jane's, more teal than his ocean blue, but close enough to make Teresa stare. The girl's hair was a shade of auburn gold that precisely matched her consultant's.

Said consultant swung his legs down to the floor, smiling now. "I thought I told you last time, Coraline Jane - if you're guilty, don't call me first. Go straight to Brazil."

"And you know I don't have that kind of cash flow," came the snarky response. Her teal eyes glittered with mirth as she kissed his cheek. "How are you? Still causing trouble?"

"I should be asking you that same question," Jane replied. "Aren't you - " His eyes swept over her in that Jane-reads-suspects way. "Ah yes, school let out last week and you're on your way to either an interview or a lunch date. I'm gonna bet interview since your mother didn't call me to brag that you got a boyfriend."

She smirked, a classic Jane smirk normally seen on Patrick's face. "Aw, you read me so well. No, I'm not heading for an interview; I came to see you. Yes, it's also a lunch date if you have no other plans. And Mom's on sabbatical in Nice, she's been working on her no-line tan. And another thing - boyfriend? Ew. I'm eleven."

"Very true," said Jane, getting up and hugging her. "It's good to see you, Cora." When he let go, he then noticed the facial expressions of the rest of the CBI team, ranging from shock (Van Pelt and Rigsby) to mild surprised interest (Cho) to outright disbelief (Lisbon). He cocked his head. "What, what's up?"

Cora gently elbowed Jane in the ribs. "I think they're surprised. Maybe I ought to introduce myself?" She walked right up to Lisbon and smiled. "I'm Coraline Jane, eleven and sane." Lisbon's eyebrow rose at the odd addition to her greeting, but Coraline didn't seem to notice. "It's very nice to meet you, Agent...Lisbon, right?" Those teal eyes examined Lisbon like a quick CAT scan. "Yeah, you hold yourself like the boss. It's either your way or the highway."

She turned to Grace. "Which would make you Van Pelt. You're kind of high-strung, but a very functional and organized woman. Guys always underestimate and try to hit on you."

Another turn had her facing Cho. "And...Cho, right? Stoic and calm, but you're a good friend and an even better investigator." She did another quick scan, which Lisbon now recognized as Jane's people-reading scan. "Little bit of the gang in your background, isn't there?"

Then she faced Rigsby. "Like you Rigsby, only you didn't belong in one. No, you knew someone in a gang - brother, father maybe?" The older man grimaced. "Yes, father. Probably influenced your choice to go into law enforcement." Cora made a quick look-back, from Grace to Rigsby and back, then looked to Jane. "Should I ask?"

"Not a good topic," he advised, smirking in amusement at seeing the team being read by another person, and a child no less. Lisbon noted the hint of pride in his voice, in his smirk, and glanced from man to child and back. Her mind began to whirl, putting several pieces together.

Grace managed to speak again. "Another Jane," she said, awestruck.

Jane chuckled and patted the girl's head. "I call her Mini-Me."

Coraline lifted her pinky and smirked like a midget supervillian. "That I am. But mostly I go by Coraline, or Cora."

"So you're just like Jane?" asked Grace.

Coraline shook her head. "Nope, I never was a psychic. I'm a magician." To prove it she did a little clap, snapped her fingers and produced a rose from thin air, which she handed to Grace with a smile.

"Taught her everything she knows," Jane admitted proudly, resting a hand on the little girl's shoulder.

Lisbon felt her headache coming. Oh great. TWO annoying smartass mentalists to contend with. "What're you doing here, Coraline?"

"Visiting. Mom's out of the country, so she wanted you to stay with me," Coraline responded, directing the second part of the question to Jane. "And she says, I quote, "Tell that idiot that he can't stay in that empty house all alone. Make him stay in the guest bedroom, n'est pas?" Unquote." She shrugged. "My mom. Whaddya gonna do?"

Rigsby stepped forward, pointing to Coraline while looking at her and Jane. "So you're his - " he began before Grace's phone rang. The redhead picked up the line and listened for a few seconds before looking at her team.

"We got a live one. Double homicide."

2309 Los Lobos Drive, Valencia

11:35 A.M.

"Well this is a charming home," Jane remarked, stepping around the forensic techs and evidence markers. "Very nice. The chinaware is exquisite. Well, what's left of it."

The house had been completely tossed. Pictures were ripped from the walls, furniture was overturned, and every drawer had been yanked open and searched, their contents strewn over the floors. The male DB was in the master bedroom on the bed, bound and wearing only boxers. The female was in the living room lying in a pool of her own blood and among the glass shards of a mirror.

"Jane, focus? Please?" Lisbon hated how her voice rose an octave when she was stressed, showing everyone just how much she didn't want to deal with the mentalist. Clearing her throat, she switched topics. "So...Coraline. She's - "

"Sweet, right?" Jane chuckled proudly, scratching the side of his face in a way that said he was embarrassed. "Yeah. Only eleven years old and a much better person than I am. It's the magic; had to teach her something, so I went with pretty trickery."

Lisbon tried phrase her question delicately. "H-How-How do you know her mother?"

"Marianne? Oh, we dated when she was in college. Marianne actually introduced me to my wife." His hand subconsciously twisted the ring on his finger, as it did when he talked about his dead wife. "A wonderful woman. She'd always talked about going back to France - she was born there," he clarified. "When Cora was born, Marianne almost gave up on it. But she managed to save the money, and I chipped in a little too - I owed her, after all."

"Owed her?" Lisbon repeated.

Jane nodded. "Yeah. She kept Cora."

Lisbon's next question died on her lips as Van Pelt came through with the I.D. Victims were John and Darla Finnegan, ages fifty and forty-seven. They had been killed sometime during midnight and one A.M. that morning, but none of their neighbors heard anything.

John Finnegan was a real estate tycoon, having made millions with his sales. Darla was a socialite who hosted numerous parties for their friends in their home. Neither had any enemies that jumped out at the investigators as likely suspects.

The team went back outside, where Coraline jumped out of the SUV and walked over to Jane's side. "So, anything?" she asked. "It's kind of boring out here, scanning the crowds."

"Nothing," he replied, shrugging. "I tell you, this is a fascinating one. Someone went to great lengths to kill that couple, leave no evidence of themselves behind, and nobody noticed a thing." The mentalist quirked an eyebrow. "And watching crowds is not boring, Coraline. Tell me what you saw."

She tugged on the chain she was wearing as she rattled off, "The left-side neighbor's hiding the fact that he couldn't hear anything because he was having an affair with his wife's sister at the time and his wife's with him right now. The right-side neighbors were out of the house at the time of the murders. The woman across the street had a clear view of the window where Mrs. Finnegan was killed, but she's not coming forward because she's afraid the police will learn she's dealing pot out of her herb garden." She stuck her hands in her pockets in a Jane move. "Honestly, I don't think it was any of the neighbors. They all say nice things about the Finnegans that they really meant."

The similar mannerisms of both Janes, big and small, were beginning to creep Lisbon out. She was also beginning to think the worst of her consultant. Something she thought she was done doing, except whenever they caught a Red John case. Is she...could she really be his -

"Boss?"

Rigsby's voice made her look over. "Yeah, what?"

"Unis found footprints leading over the backyard fence. Looks like the killer hopped it." He showed his boss the impression taken by forensics, a print left by a right athletic shoe. "Size ten female, or a size eight male."

"Not the pot lady, cheating husband, secretary or cheater's wife," said Coraline positively. She looked around, then took off around back.

Lisbon couldn't stop herself from snapping, "Jane! Where are you going?"

"Nowhere, Lisbon." Jane fought a laugh as he followed his boss and Coraline. "Now I'm following you, but before - "

"Shut up, Jane!"

Lisbon and Jane finally caught up with Coraline, who was swaying back and forth in front of the fence like a charmed cobra. Lisbon's face scrunched up in confusion and turned to Jane for an explaination. He shrugged. "It's her process. Who lives in the house behind the Finnegans?"

She looked at her notes. "A Mr. and Mrs. Draper. They claim to have been asleep at the time of the murders."

Without warning Coraline jumped the fence, using two hands to vault over the five-foot boards. Lisbon drew breath to scold when the girl's voice came back over. "Hey, there are more of that shoe size over here, cutting across the yard. The suspect ran this way and straight for the street."

"Jane, get her under control!" the CBI agent snapped. "We can't have an eleven-year-old girl running loose at a crime scene!"

"Yes boss," laughed Jane, grinning at her. Lisbon fought to control her blush, instead snapping at some nearby agents to check out what Coraline had found.

CBI Headquarters

1:15 P.M.

When Hightower came in to check up on the case, the first person she saw was Coraline sitting on Van Pelt's desk, her legs swinging above the ground as Grace ran background checks on all of Finnegan's clients who had a beef with him. Hightower blinked, then smirked. "You're related to Patrick Jane, I assume?" she said.

Coraline jumped down and went over to Hightower, sticking her hands in her pockets. "That's me. Coraline Jane, eleven and sane." She regarded the woman closely, and Hightower noticed how much like Jane this little girl was. After two minutes of silence, Coraline proclaimed, "Wow, you're hard! Almost as hard as my friend Hale, but that's just because he's known me forever."

"I'll take that as a compliment. Now, where is your - "

"Do you need something, Ma'am?" Lisbon asked, seeing her boss in the bullpen. She walked over and handed Coraline a cup of tea. "Sorry, she wanted a cup and since I was already in there - "

"Wow, it's perfect!" Coraline said after taking a sip. "Just how I like it! How did you know?"

Lisbon fumbled for an answer and came up with, "I'm psychic."

"Liar. There's no such thing as psychics."

The agent made a wordless sound "Eh," and shrugged her shoulder. She'd accidentally done it the same way Jane took his tea, milk poured first and water truly boiling, remembering how finicky Jane was about it. She really is a little Jane, she thought, smiling. Minus the annoying schoolboy attitude and lust for revenge.

Hightower noticed and cleared her throat. "Agent Lisbon? The case?"

"Oh yeah." She looked at her case file. "Well, Darla checks out. No affairs, no enemies, no record - the woman's never even had a parking ticket. The husband's a little murkier. He's known as a womanizer, so we're looking into the idea of a mistress."

"He had two," Coraline remarked, sitting on Jane's couch and sipping her tea. "One's a blonde, the other's a redhead."

Lisbon stared at the girl. "How could you possibly know that?"

"Know what, boss?" asked Rigsby as he, Cho, and Jane entered the room.

But Lisbon directed her reply at Jane. "How could she know that Finnegan had two mistresses, one blonde and one redhead?"

"Oh that's my fault," he said, raising a hand in blame. "I gave her the crime scene photos - "

Not the right thing to say. "You showed an eleven-year-old CRIME SCENE PHOTOS?" screeched Lisbon. "Of a vicious DOUBLE HOMICIDE? ARE YOU STUPID?"

He shrugged. "She got bored. If I didn't give them to her she would've lock-picked some desk drawers and then we'd really have some problems. But back to the original question - yes, she noticed what I did in Finnegan's bedroom." He retrieved the picture and pointed to the lingerie strewn across the floor. "Those two bras and nightgowns. One pair's black silk, which is more risky than prudish Mrs. Finnegan would ever have. The other pair is red lace, which is also too daring. Ergo, two mistresses. No matching panties, so the killer probably took them to cover his or her tracks, which means he or she knows one or both of the women."

"How do you get hair color?" asked Cho from across the room.

Now Coraline spoke up. "Black is the redhead, since red on red is just too much to be sexy. Red is for the blonde."

"There could be one mistress and she could have worn both sets," remarked Grace, looking at the photo.

Coraline shook her head. "The red bra is two sizes larger than the black one." She sipped her tea and looked at the adults innocently. "Just check. I think one of them's his secretary, or a personal aide of some kind. Probably blonde."

Jane went over and tousled the girl's hair affectionately. "Just like I taught you," he said. "Very good. That's what I came up with too."

"I can use my powers for good and evil," she responded proudly. Then without warning Lisbon was confronted with those too-much-like-Jane teal eyes. "Agent Lisbon wants to ask you a question," she anounced. "And I think it's about the case. In a roundabout way."

Obligingly he turned to Lisbon. "What is it, Lisbon?"

Again confronted with their similarities, Lisbon quickly assumed control again, giving orders to check out possible leads and ordering Jane to come with her, they had a secretary to question. Imagine her surprise when instead of the consultant, she had Coraline standing next to her in the elevator. "Where's Jane?"

"I'm here," she replied, as if it was a natural thing for her to respond to Jane's name. Which it was, now that Lisbon thought about it. The girl's last name was Jane, after all. "I'm bored, so I'll come with you." When they reached the parking lot she quickly raised her hand. "Shotgun." At Lisbon's glance she said, "I won't do anything bad. I promise."

Speaking of which... "Can I ask you something?" she asked once they were on the road.

"Sure." Coraline seemed listless, looking out the passenger window of the SUV.

"How are you related to Jane? I mean, you have his last name, right?"

"Yup. That I do." The girl didn't look away from the scenery. "Now I get to ask you a question."

"But you didn't answer my question."

Coraline shrugged. "I did so. Just not the first one." She took a deep breath. "Now my turn. Why are you acting different from how you normally act around him?"

No quesiton as to who the him is. "I'm not acting different."

The little girl scoffed. "Liar."

"Liar?" Lisbon repeated, all the while thinking Crap, she really is just like him.

"Pants on fire," Coraline said, pointing at the woman in confirmation before smiling that Jane smile. "But seriously, why?"

The senior agent's gaze returned to the road. Her silence prompted Coraline to continue. "You're nervous and edgy, and there's a sort of forced casualness in the way you relax around him. Your banter is automatic, and somewhat predictable - you give the answer and you know how he'll respond to it, which is why you answer him in the first place." She stretched her arms high above her head. "He doesn't notice because it's probably become routine to him, but I can see it. Something's changed."

It's scary that there can be another person just like him, Lisbon thought. "It's just Monday." Changing topics again, she said, "I noticed you called the team by name. How did you know?"

"Oh, he talks about you all the time." Coraline pointed out Lisbon's window. "Hey, what's that?"

That turned out to be a physical alteration between two women on the front lawn of Elise Montgomery, John Finnegan's secretary. Once everything was settled and both women were inside on the couch, Lisbon felt like she'd walked into an episode of the Twilight Zone. Elise was a modestly dressed yet stunning blonde who had two sizes on her attacker in all the right places. The other woman, who gave her name as Marisa Fitzwalter, was a less-endowed redhead who dressed loud and brassy. Both bickered viciously about their affairs with John, but refrained from outfight violence on account of Lisbon's not-so-subtle grip on her weapon.

Coraline, having gotten a cup of tea for herself, sat on the chair opposite the mistresses. "So you both were in love with Mr. Finnegan?" she asked.

Elise sighed. "I know I was. His wife was a shrew, but he couldn't divorce her because of the pre-nup."

"And wouldn't because of the public scandal," remarked Marisa, leaning against the couch armrest.

"So you both knew the victim," Lisbon said, bringing the conversation back on topic. "When was the last time you saw him alive?"

"Sunday night," they both replied, then glared at each other in rage. "You saw him too? You skank!" they screeched in unison.

Lisbon snapped as well. "Hey! There's a child here!" She pulled out her cell phone and called in to Cho. "Get me two cars out here for suspects in the Finnegan case."

Coraline put her tea down. "You might want to call your husband," she advised Elise. "So he can pick up your son. Chances are you won't be back in time to pick him up yourself."

CBI Headquarters

3:47 P.M.

"What did you say to Lisbon?"

Coraline looked up at Jane. "What makes you think - "

His stare silenced her. "I know you and I know her. You said something to her, didn't you?"

The girl shrugged. "She was wondering about our relationship, but I didn't know how much you told her. So instead I asked why she was being so forced around you."

Jane glanced at Lisbon, who was talking to Elise in the interrogation room, then to Grace, who was talking to Marisa in the other room. Coraline glanced at Grace as well. "So are she and Rigsby still apart?"

"Hightower found out."

"She's hard," remarked the girl. "Almost as hard as Hale." Looking to Elise, then back at Marisa, she sighed. "It's like he was a dating bipolar. Marisa's only in it for the sex; she's only sad about losing her bed partner and not a lover. Elise is the romantic one. She fantasized about leaving her husband and marrying Finnegan and living happily ever after - " Coraline blinked as a slow grin touched her face. "I think I solved the case."

"Do tell," said Jane, thinking how he knew the culprit already and was wondering how to break it to Lisbon.

But Coraline shook her head. "I have to prep a few things. Can you be ready to go when the husband arrives?"

When he nodded, she grinned like the Cheshire Cat. "Perfect! This'll only take a minute."

First she knocked on Grace's interrogation room door. "Miss Grace, can I ask you a question?" she said cutely. When Grace came out Coraline lost the cute voice. "I need a favor. I'm setting up a trap for the culprit and I need Marisa out of here."

"Why?" asked Grace.

"Just please do it." Coraline then found Rigsby and Cho in the bullpen. "Um, do you guys still have the mistresses' bras from the house in evidence?"

"Why?" asked Cho impassively while Rigsby's face went bright red at the word 'bras.'

In Lisbon's interrogation room

"Look Elise, this is all going to come out eventually," Lisbon said firmly, watching the woman across the table sob uncontrollably into her hands. "Make it easier for yourself. Come clean."

"I didn't kill John!" swore the blonde. "I loved him! Why would I kill the man? He was the first good thing to happen to me in years!"

"You both were married." Sure enough, after Coraline had suggested to call the husband, Lisbon had noticed the happy-family pictures dotting the living room. "Why didn't you just divorce your husband?"

"I couldn't leave Richard or my baby," Elise sobbed, twisting her engagement ring. "And John would've lost half his fortune to his wife, not to mention the scandal that would result. We wouldn't survive the aftermath."

There was a soft knock at the door, which surprised Lisbon. She waited for Van Pelt to open the door cautiously, or for Rigsby or Cho to open it quickly with some new evidence. She wasn't even expecting Jane because the fool never knocked; he just blew in like a force seven hurricane. But who did that leave?

The answer opened the door wide. Lisbon's eyes widened. "Cora?"

"Miss Grace wants to show you something," Coraline said in a little-girl voice, her eyes liquid with shyness and that awkward look of I-hope-I-didn't-make-Mommy-mad-by-interrupting. "She said it was important. Case breaking."

Lisbon went out, then realized that Coraline had gone back inside and was leading Elise by the hand into the bullpen. She didn't think anything of it as she went over to Grace and said, "What do you have for me?"

The red-haired rookie blinked. "Um, Marisa's alibi checked out. She was at another man's place, oddly enough." The sarcasm was noted on the alibi's irony. "And so does Elise's - she was at her son's piano recital."

Lisbon frowned. "But then how - "

"YOU CHEATING, LYING SLUT!"

The shout startled everyone within earshot as a man suddenly barreled through the bullpen and lunged for Elise. Jane was across the room, holding an evidence bag - the one holding the black bra found in John Finnegan's bedroom. Lisbon realized that the screaming man was Elise's husband Richard, who had recognized the bra and jumped to conclusions. Quicker than lightning Lisbon tried to intercept him before he reached Jane's couch, but he was too fast.

But he didn't go for Elise. Instead, he grabbed a hank of long, reddish-blonde hair - Coraline's hair - and yelled, "I knew it! You never loved me, you bitch!"

"Uncle Patrice!" screamed the little girl, thrashing and clawing at the man holding her. "OW! Uncle Patrice!"

"Cora!" screamed Jane in horror, racing over towards her. He, Cho and Rigsby jumped to seperate Richard and the girl, while Grace called for officers. Elise kept screaming "Richard, no! It's not what you think!" and not helping at all.

Lisbon's mind was only thinking two things. One, Patrice was the French way to say Patrick, which was Jane's first name.

Second, Cora had said Uncle Patrice. She's his niece, she thought. His niece. Not his daughter.

And then she acted, going right in and chopping down on Richard's wrist. He released Cora's hair and the girl instantly ran into Lisbon's arms, crying with pain as well as fear. Jane released the chokehold he had Richard in and stroked Cora's hair, murmuring in what sounded like French.

"I knew it! I knew you were there!" he bellowed as Rigsby and Cho restrained him. "I knew you were in his bed! I found your underwear!" He kept on screaming this as officers handcuffed him and hustled him to the interrogation room.

Then Coraline looked at Lisbon, dry-eyed, and asked quite innocently, "Is that motive enough?"

In the CBI Bullpen

5:20 P.M.

"I gather it was enough for a conviction?"

Lisbon looked down at Coraline. They were seated on Jane's couch, waiting for the mentalist to get his clothes from his home. He was taking up Marianne's offer and staying with Coraline for the next week at her house.

"Yes. We found the matching panties in his truck glove compartment, as well as his bloody clothes." She picked up a brush borrowed from Grace's desk and began brushing Coraline's hair again. "How does your head feel?"

"Dull, but okay." The girl shrugged. "Sorry, but I couldn't let you in. You'd never let me do it."

"I think you scared your uncle." He'd scared Lisbon too. She'd never seen her playful consultant look quite so enraged outside of Red John cases; she'd had to ban him from the interrogation room on the grounds that he'd snap and beat up Richard Montgomery. "So how did you know?" Lisbon asked, meaning about Montgomery being the killer.

"Jealousy. And a hunch." Coraline winced when the bristles touched her scalp. "The husband never had a solid alibi. And many kill for jealousy."

Lisbon nodded. Richard had confessed to killing John Finnegan because he had been sleeping with Elise. He had tied up Darla to kill John, but when she'd run, Richard had been forced to beat her bloody and dead in the living room. "You still shouldn't have done that."

"Whatever." Coraline sipped her tea before saying suddenly, "His dad was a hard man."

"What?" Lisbon asked, not sure what she meant by that remark.

"His dad? Really overbearing." Coraline ran a finger around the rim of her teacup. "He made Uncle Patrice do that fake psychic "Boy Wonder" bit really hard in the carnival. He made my dad do it too, before that."

"Your dad?"

Coraline nodded. "Grandfather sowed a few wild oats in his time. I have a couple half-uncles and half-aunts around." She shrugged. "When Dad died, I was only a baby. Mom was going to give me up. But Uncle Patrice was the only one who offered to help. He helped raise me." The little girl smiled. "He's almost like my father, but really he's just my half-uncle. So that worry you had about his having an affair was totally uneeded."

Lisbon grimaced, ashamed that she had been read so easily. "Please don't tell him."

The little girl gave a teasing smile. "It's not like he'd care. Actually, he'd probably tease you about getting jealous." When Lisbon sputtered, Coraline laughed. "Besides, Uncle Patrice likes you."

The agent was spared a response by the arrival of Jane, towing a boy about the same age as Coraline. "Look who I found lurking outside my house," Jane announced.

Cora sat up, looking guilty. "Hale?" She grimaced sheepishly. "Honestly, it's not as bad as it looks."

Hale had messy brown hair and hazel eyes that took in Coraline's mussed appearance. "Jeez Jane, what did you do? I thought you just came to hang out with your uncle for the day."

"Meh," she replied, shrugging a shoulder.

"What happened?"

Now she looked sheepish again. "Um, I set a mentalist trap and it worked a little too well?"

Hale sighed. "Oh boy." He turned to Jane and asked very politely, "Can I take Jane back to my place? My mom's making mac and cheese and Jane's been invited."

The mentalist smiled and said, "Of course." Turning to Coraline he added, "So long as she doesn't make herself a nuisance and is home at a reasonable hour. Do you need a ride?"

"Mom's on her way. She should be here now." Hale gave Coraline a hand off the couch. "C'mon. We can ice that bruise when we get home too."

"Bye Lisbon," Coraline said, hugging the senior agent. "Tell the others I said bye too." She went over to Jane and hugged him as well. "Bye Uncle Patrice. Love you."

"Love you, Cora."

She didn't move away when he let her go, though. Instead she said in flawless French, "Vous savez, vous devriez la dire vous l'aimez."

Jane actually froze, something Lisbon rarely saw anymore. Even more of a surprise were the spots of color that popped into existance on his cheeks. Patrick Jane...blushing?

"Et je pense que vous devriez garder vos observations à vous, ma nièce," he chided in likewise perfect French.

Coraline crossed her arms. "Cet a été six ans. Vous ne pouvez pas chasser John Rouge à jamais." Here Lisbon perked up; Rouge, she knew, meant red. Why is she talking about Red John? "Elle est jolie et drôle et vous savez qu'elle soigne de vous. Pourquoi vous - "

"Drop it," Jane finally said in English, losing his cheerfulness. "Hale's waiting for you. Go on; I'll see you later tonight."

The little girl did a fairly good impression of Lisbon pouting (which made Lisbon smile to herself) and replied stubbornly, "Mais vous l'aimez, n'est-ce pas?"

He smiled, a soft smile that startled Lisbon. "Oui," he said. "Je fais."

Dammit, I wish I spoke French, thought Lisbon. She only knew "oui" meant yes, but the rest of the conversation was just a pretty medley of beautiful-sounding words. Other than the mention of Red John, of course.

Coraline nodded once, a strong nod of the head. "Good. As long as you know that."

She and Hale went hand in hand to the elevator, watched by Lisbon and Jane. Before the door closed on them, they watched as Hale said something, then blushed as Coraline placed a little kiss on his cheek.

"Aw, Cora kissed a boy," Lisbon smiled.

"What?" Jane tore his eyes away from the closed elevator and shrugged. "Yeah, on the cheek."

"Yeah. Still counts." Then she had to ask. "What were you two saying in French?"

He shrugged. "I'm surprised she's still so good. I know Marianne taught her; Marianne's actually from France, so it's only natural that Cora would be bilingual, but to have such a good accent and vocabulary - " Lisbon watched as he refused to make eye contact with her and continued to ramble on until she finally interrupted him.

"Patrick Jane, you're avoiding the question."

He frowned at her. "Are not."

"Are so," Lisbon said in amazement. "You're totally changing conversation so as not to tell me." At the word totally Lisbon playfully slugged Jane's shoulder, making the consultant wince. "So what were you talking about?"

Jane looked at her seriously. Lisbon could actually tell that he wasn't going to tease her, or trick her, or lie to her. The man was honestly going to tell her the truth. She swallowed nervously, shifting in her seat when he didn't speak for a few minutes. Blue eyes bored into her green ones, an ocean gazing upon the forest.

Then he broke eye contact with her and sighed. "I can't tell you."

Fro some reason, rejection washed through her. Fighting the irrational urge to start crying, Lisbon instead asked, quite calmly, "What?"

"I mean - " Now he rolled his shoulders, as if forcing himself to relax. "I can't tell you yet. Not here, not now. But can you wait?" Jane looked into her eyes again, the barest hint of a plea in his gaze and in his voice. "It may take me weeks, or months, or even years, to tell you. Can you wait for me, Teresa?"

She fought to control her breathing. It wasn't a proposal - why did she even think that? - but a plea. She knew that his need for Red John's capture overshadowed everything else - and he knew it too. Jane was too smart to pretend that his lust for revenge could be controlled. What he told Coraline was obviously something he could only share with her, his family, but not with Lisbon.

And he was asking her to wait?

Patrick Jane was her consultant, her daily dose of headache, her foil, her responsibility, and her friend. He made her mad, he made her laugh, he made her wish she could shoot him or kiss him, depending what results his stupid mentalist stunts revealed. He was a man haunted with the ghosts of his wife and child, a man who chased the devil who tortured him with no regard for his own life, and the man who she'd come to value as a man and as a friend. And maybe someday, as even more.

So she answered the only way she could.

Teresa Lisbon smiled and nodded. "Sure Patrick. I'll wait."

I know, I know, we sooo wish.

The French will be explained in the epilogue. Review please!