A/N: Wrote this a week or two ago,and just getting around to posting it. Inspired by Red Dawn, with shades of Red Velvet Cupcakes, so it helps if you have seen both of them. The title is a reference to David Gray's 'The Other Side.'
The Mentalist does not belong to me, nor do Jane and Lisbon. The writing, however, is mine.
Reviews are much appreciated.
Not beta'ed. Any errors are mine. And without further ado, on to the story. Thank you for reading!
Sinking Sand
He is a lost ship, and she his port in the storm.
It has been that way since the beginning. A dubious look, incredulity sketched across her features. Pert nose and a mouth that quirks in a way that makes him think she is suppressing laughter at some private, wicked joke. Tiny woman with strong, towering men at her command. And capable. He sees that from the moment she first approaches him, face a carefully schooled mask of detached pleasantness, uncertainty peeking through the chinks. He, broken, lost, searching for something to catch hold of. Something to keep him moored, keep him from drifting away into the madness of his intolerable grief. A few sharp words in a moment of frustration, an order - no, a challenge ("come back tomorrow"), an observation from a sharp tongue ("homeless vibe", she accuses) and finally a request, unexpected and startling and he pulls himself away from Red John before he has quite begun. And he has found it, found her. His purpose, his direction, grabs hold with both hands and clings to her, tows himself, soaked and shaking and gasping for air, up onto dry land.
Still, it is like this. She his rudder, his anchor, the only thing that rivals his thirst for vengeance. The only thing that can tear him from his brooding, from his quest with three simple words, "I need you." His answer is equally simple; four words. Quietly, he peels off his battered armor and bares himself to her. "Anything for you, Lisbon."
He is a lost ship, and she his port in the storm.