This is my first mentalist fic - hopefully it will develop into a series of background chapters.
Disclaimer: Obviously I own nothing - otherwise I wouldn't be writing fanfiction.
Chapters are developed from hints in season 1 but will almost certainly be AU in places (especially once season 2 starts!)
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Recruitment
Chapter 1 - Patrick Jane
The man followed his wife wearily into the audience, protesting every step of the way.
"This is nonsense," he told her, "Utter nonsense."
"Will you just try and enjoy it," she hissed back at him.
He rolled his eyes, "There is no such thing as psychics," he grumbled. "If you had to come to this ridiculous event couldn't you have brought one of your friends?"
"Ssshh," she hissed at him. "It's starting."
A man pranced on to the stage. He had blonde hair streaked back of his face and a ridiculously shiny suit.
"Welcome, everyone!" he exclaimed with an enticing smile, "My name is Patrick Jane and tonight I am going to help you communicate with the other side!"
A ripple of applause broke out in the audience.
The man in the audience did not join in. He looked at his wife and whispered, "He's an arrogant fraud."
She smiled teasingly back at him. "I don't care," she answered, "Kathy said he was brilliant when she came – will you just be quiet and enjoy the show."
The man gave an exasperated sigh and turned to watch Patrick Jane on stage.
Jane was selecting people from the audience and delivering emotive messages from loved ones. The man found the whole charade a little bit sickening. Then Jane turned to his wife.
"Your name," Jane whispered, pointing to her. "L – L – ahh, yes," he gave a reptilian smile, "Laura?"
"Yes," she said, surprised.
"You're hoping for a message," Jane murmured softly, "Someone who has passed to the other side."
Laura stared at him nervously.
"A close relative," Jane continued, one hand still outstretched towards her.
"Your sister?" he asked.
Laura nodded.
"Jennifer," Jane whispered, trying out the name "Jenny."
Laura nodded again, hands shaking.
Jane closed his eyes for a moment, looking serene – almost angelic. Then he opened them again and gazed intently at Laura.
"She understands," he whispered. "And she's sorry."
"Sorry?" Laura's voice was a whisper.
"Sorry that she argued with you, that she tried to separate you from your husband."
Laura gave a gasp and her hand grasped her husband's. He held it tightly, watching uncomfortably as Jane continued, head down, eyes gentle.
"She knows now," he murmured reassuringly, "You love your husband and he loves you, very much. His work may have come between you in the past but he is determined to prevent that happening from now on. Jenny understands now that he never wanted to be away from you or to hurt you. She's happy for you and she wants you to be happy too."
Jane looked directly at Laura, "Can you do that for her?" he asked, "Can you be happy?"
She nodded tearfully and tightened her grip on her husband's hand.
Jane smiled softly and let a deep silence descend.
After a moment, he broke the silence and moved to another member of the audience.
Laura's hand remained in her husband's for the rest of the show. As the show ended she pressed a gentle kiss to his lips.
"I'm sorry," she whispered.
"Me too," he said. "This promotion – I'll be there more, I promise."
She smiled then. A gentle affectionate smile he hadn't seen in recent years. He smiled back and felt strangely grateful towards the arrogant fraud in the shiny suit.
* * * * * *
The next day Laura waved her husband off to work with a smile on her face and a spring in her step. He was thrilled. His happiness lasted for the whole drive, the walk through the main entrance, during his stop at the coffee machine, and even as he took a seat at his desk. Then he flipped open the file in front of him, gazed down at the pictures within – the brutally stabbed young woman, the smiley red face drawn in her blood – and a sense of despair settled on him.
He flicked through the file and made his way down the hallway. He stood at the back of the room as Senior Agent Lisbon briefed her team on the latest Red John killing.
He watched her confidently discussing the clues and giving instructions, following up the few leads they had. He smiled slightly. At least he had Teresa – if anyone could take this psycho down it was her. But there were so few clues, so little to lead them to him.
He stayed late at work that night, reading and re-reading the Red John file. Lisbon wandered in. They went through the file together.
"Nothing!" he exclaimed in frustration, "How can this lunatic have avoided leaving a single clue!"
Lisbon sighed and played with the cross around her neck. Her mother's cross.
"Let's focus on the victims," she said determinedly, "There must be a reason for picking them so let's see what they have in common."
He nodded and turned back to the file. They began to make a list of everything they could think of in the victim's lives – work, shops, gyms, clubs, family, friends, hobbies…
At 2a.m. he drained his fifth cup of coffee and suggested they get some sleep. Lisbon growled in frustration but reluctantly agreed – they could follow up on the leads in the morning.
* * * * * *
He slipped quietly into his house, removed his coat and headed towards the staircase. Then he saw it.
The dining room door was wide open and the bare remnants of a romantic dinner – candles, wine, best cutlery remained on the table.
He sighed and stumbled up the stairs to bed.
* * * * * *
Two weeks later and they were no nearer. All of their late nights had led to nothing. No clues as to Red John's identity, whereabouts or even motive – unless you counted Rigsby's assertion that Red John was 'clearly a nutter'.
Lisbon was giving instructions again, abandoning yet another series of dead ends and turning to more and more tenuous leads in a desperate attempt to find something, anything.
He watched her sadly. She looked tired, depressed, and desperate. She knew these clues would probably lead nowhere but still she went through the motions. They all did. They needed something – help, inspiration…
Suddenly, Patrick Jane floated into his mind.
"Lisbon," he said.
She looked up with a business-like smile.
"I have an idea."
"Okay," she said and followed him away.
* * * * * *
Patrick Jane was sitting backstage, thinking through his plans for that evening's show when the man arrived.
He glanced up and gave a smile of recognition.
"Laura's husband," Jane said confidently, "From two weeks ago. What can I help you with?"
"What makes you think you can help me?"
"Your whole demeanour," Jane smiled confidently, "Although if you want to keep Laura happy you shouldn't be working this late."
"I didn't know where to look for you earlier in the day," the man replied, wondering why he felt compelled to explain himself.
"So what can I help the police with?" Jane asked, "Psychic connection to a murder victim?"
The man took out a picture of the red smiley face and laid it before Jane.
"His name is Red John. He paints that in his victim's blood. He's killed seven women and left no clues."
"What makes you think I can find him?"
The man sighed, "Jenny and Laura argued over me. But only me, Jenny and Laura knew that. Jenny died. I told no one, Laura told no one. However you do it, Mr Jane, you're very good at what you do. If you can read people – read this man," the man shook the picture at Jane, "Help us find Red John."
Jane gave a serpent-like smile. "I quite like the idea of a career in law enforcement – a super-detective."
"You'd be purely a consultant, jut offering an occasional opinion on cases."
Jane nodded, "Fair enough," he smiled. "Is this how you usually recruit people?"
The man smiled thoughtfully, "More often than you'd think," he answered honestly.
"If you give me your contact details the CBI will be in touch to arrange the details."
Jane scribbled his address and phone number on a piece of paper and handed them over to the man.
"No need to give me yours," he said, grinning confidently, "I'll find you with my psychic powers. By the way, I hope you love your job, Mr Minelli, because Laura isn't going to be there when you get home."
Minelli looked at him in disbelief and left in silence.
When he got home the house was empty and silent. He looked around for Laura and then he checked her wardrobe – empty.
Laura was gone. He felt a twinge of guilt at the small part of him that was pleased. Jane had been right again.
Hope you enjoyed - please review either way :-)