Disclaimer: Alas, I own no rights to and make no money from The Mentalist.

Author's Note: "Are you still mad at me?" Lisbon asked Jane at the beginning of Blue Bird, implying they had a confrontation earlier. This is my version of those missing scenes (plus the opener). Written for the Mentalist Oneshot Collection by Mentalist Disciples on Twitter.

Anger Management

"She's leaving Austin in a week, next Friday."

If it were anyone but Cho, I'd chalk this up to nonsensical gossip. But Cho doesn't gossip. He's telling me this because he thinks I need to know. Thinks I should already know, in fact.

Is this someone's idea of a practical joke?

I follow Cho and Captain Mueller over to the kiddie pool and take in the crime scene with part of my brain, while the majority is busy trying to find holes in Cho's claim. Lisbon's not going anywhere. Certainly not with Pike. She's not in love with him, though she might wish she were, and she loves her job here. She's not leaving all that behind for a man she barely knows—and who barely knows her.

She gave me a hard time about wanting her to move to Austin in the first place, even though she felt trapped as a small town sheriff and knows me better than anyone.

This is ridiculous. It must be another of those silly rumors that get started from time to time.

"You sure about Lisbon?" I ask. It's possible Cho is teasing me and I'm falling for it. He has a poker face that would give me a run for my money and a sense of humor best described as subversive. "Did you hear it from her or did you hear it from other people?"

"I heard it from other people. Abbott."

This is not good. It's better than if he'd heard it from Lisbon herself, but it's hard to imagine Abbott joking about personnel matters. Especially to Cho.

Maybe it's just a misunderstanding. This can't be right. She would've told me. Lisbon's a straight shooter. She wouldn't put in for a transfer and not tell me, not when she knows how much I went through to get her here.

No. I won't believe it until she tells me. Cho must have misunderstood something Abbott said.

I can't shake the queasy feeling in my stomach as we walk into the house. A quick look around and a few questions for the housemates are enough to confirm the theory I developed over Tyler Van Camp's body, so I return my attention to the unresolved mystery nagging at me. "She's leaving a week from Friday? That's only ten days."

The sadness in Cho's "yeah" is horribly convincing.

This can't be happening. Lisbon can't be leaving me. Us. No.

I need to talk to her. Now.

"We need to go, Cho."

"We're working."

Cho's single-mindedness can be a good thing. By all means, let us solve this ridiculously simple case before we go so I won't be pestered about it while I'm fixing the Lisbon situation.

Clarifying. Clarifying the Lisbon situation. Because this has to be a mistake.

I won't believe it until I hear it from her.

mmm

Lisbon is at her desk when I get back to the office, having had some time to think during the ride back. Cho is every bit as much a control freak as Lisbon and lets me drive even less often, so I have no distractions.

"Hey," I greet her, seating myself casually in the chair facing her desk.

"Hey," she replies, carefully nonchalant. "That was fast. Solve the case already?"

"Meh. It was obvious."

She looks at me, finally, surprised into it. "Really."

How she can maintain her skepticism after all these years is a constant source of amazement to me. "Really. Ask Cho if you don't believe me. Ah, on second thought, perhaps you should find a more reliable source. I think he's having his own personal version of April Fools Day today."

"Cho?" She grins at me, enjoying the thought. "What did he do?"

I wave a hand in the air to indicate my own incredulity. "He told me you're transferring to DC. Leaving next week, in fact."

My heart plummets as her face tells me it's true. I feel like she's just punched me. Or run over me with a steamroller. I feel my smile slip and decide to let it as hurt and anger boil up inside me. "But of course you'd never do such a thing without telling your friends. Not leaving them to hear it on the grapevine. Because that's not how you treat people you care about."

She winces at the venom in my tone. "Jane—"

I can't stop myself long enough to listen to her excuse. "Oh. I see. My mistake. Since I am not in fact on the list of your friends, but only a coworker to be afforded no special treatment, I'll stop bothering you. Have a nice life, Agent Lisbon."

I stalk toward the breakroom, intending to make a cup of tea to calm myself. But I quickly realize that's not going to suffice and head for the elevator instead.

I need a walk. A long walk.

mmm

I don't end up going back to the office that day. Fischer texts me around lunchtime to tell me Abbott will put me on the Most Wanted list if I don't show up tomorrow, and Cho texts me a little later to say I should call him if I'm thinking of doing anything stupid and call Abbott if I need bail.

Surely a text from Lisbon can't be far behind? She won't want to call me while I'm in a foul mood, but she's worrying about me, right?

The silence is disturbing.

My taco truck lunch sits like a stone in my churning stomach as I sit in a park and think this through.

I would never in my wildest nightmares have imagined Lisbon kicking me to the curb without a word. In a fit of hurt or anger, yes, I could imagine her deciding to leave. But at least she should have given me the chance to talk to her about it, try to talk her out of it. This absence of communication feels like abandonment. No, it's worse: it feels like indifference.

Indifference is not a word I ever thought would apply to Lisbon and myself.

She loved me once. It might not have survived our separation, but I thought there was enough residual affection there to sustain us for the foreseeable future. Sure, there have been moments of tension since she started dating Pike, but I thought our friendship was solid. When did that change?

I am a loner by necessity; I'm dangerous to people who care about me. That doesn't mean I like it. Having Lisbon nearby makes my loneliness bearable. Sometimes she can even make me forget it for hours at a time. I never really thought about the fact that her own loneliness is what drew us together. And now that she's not lonely anymore, she has no need of me. And no use for me either, apparently, since she's not responsible for our unit's case closure rate.

That's quite a blow to my self-esteem.

I rarely allow myself to wallow in self-pity, but today seems a good time for it. Am I doomed to lose everyone I care about? I used to think I would count myself lucky if Lisbon survived my taking down Red John. But on the island I realized I would never be happy if I could never see her again. I was happy working with her again, teasing her, earning those proud and admiring looks she thinks she hides from me.

Happy. I should have known it wouldn't last. It never does.

It's a relief when depression turns to anger. I've never been one to follow the rules, so my five stages tend to vary. And I never, ever seem to get to acceptance.

How dare she throw me away as if we never meant anything to each other? Has she hit her head and forgotten all those years when we supported each other, looked after each other? It should have taken more than Marcus effing Pike to cause that kind of amnesia.

Temporary insanity. Maybe he's spiking her coffee with something.

Two can play at that game.

But no. I could never do anything to cause her harm.

I must think this through. I am not okay with this situation, but is it because she's leaving or because she didn't tell me?

Both.

But mostly the first point.

Okay. Now we're getting somewhere. Lisbon leaving is unacceptable, so I must prevent it. How best to accomplish that?

I could try talking her out of it. Obviously I could; that's why she was afraid to tell me she was going. But asking her to stay would put her in control of the situation, leaving the possibility of her rejecting me. And I couldn't bear that.

I have to make her stay without making confessions neither of us would know how to handle.

A case. I'll set up a case, let her think she's solved it—she loves doing that. I'll set it up somewhere nice and romantic and then I'll sweep her off her feet. I'll show her what real romance is, show her that Pike isn't the real thing.

Of course, there's the question of what happens after I've romanced her into staying. I might have to go as far as seducing her to show her she doesn't belong with Pike. And that will give her certain expectations. I'd ignore those at my peril.

But let's be honest: seducing Lisbon isn't a hardship. In fact, I'd go so far as to say it's a privilege. A dream, even. It's the morning after—and all the days after that—I'm not so sure I can handle. But apparently I don't have a choice.

It seems that since Lisbon has rejected our status quo, I must either let her leave or make her my lover.

No contest.

So it's decided: I will find a cold case with enough embarrassment potential to the FBI to make sure we're both assigned to it. I will lay clues for her to solve, leading us to a secluded romantic hideaway. We will round up the bad guys, have a celebratory dinner and drinks, then go for a walk on the beach. I'll invite her back to my room for a nightcap and show her the time of her life. It's all I can do to keep from rubbing my palms together like an evil mastermind.

But I'm not evil. This is for her own good. I can make her happy, and I will. Better than Marcus Boring Pike.

Judging from the way my body's reacting to my plan, I'll make myself happy too.

My phone buzzes, and I look down to find that finally Lisbon has deigned to text me.

I'm sorry I didn't tell you. I just couldn't find the words. This isn't easy for me.

Don't you worry, I think. I'm going to make this a lot easier for you. For both of us.

But I don't text her back, because I'm petty enough to want her to suffer. Just for a little while. I'm still angry, after all.

Angry, and desperate, and a little bit horny.

Teresa Lisbon isn't going to know what hit her.