Hey there!
Due to a recent spoiler set out there, I simply couldn't resist writing something about it.
This is only my second fic, so I hope you enjoy. Also, English is not my fist language. If there are any mistakes you can't leave there for the sake of your sanity, please let me know :)
Let me know what you think! Also, maybe you'd like to check out my other fic, "Mutually Exclusive" (which is a lot darker than this) :)
Enjoy
TheReflection
P.S.: I do not own The Mentalist and am not making money from writing fanfiction - there I said it. Hard to believe, I know.
It was, yet again, one of those days Lisbon dreaded.
She had started dating Marcus Pike four months ago and spent the night at his place the first time around already. She was aware that Jane knew that, of course. Yet he hadn't said a single word about it to her which frustrated her a little. Then again, he hadn't said anything when she knew that Jane knew she'd slept with Mashburn.
Today, Marcus was taking her to the fancy "cloth napkins and all" restaurant again – she had forced herself to like the first time although she would have preferred a simple diner round the corner – and she had had to change into the dress at work again.
Although, this time she had thought of taking her keys with her and not leaving them on her desk, she still dreaded having to walk past the bullpen. She had seen Jane lying on his couch when she'd left for the bathroom and she was certain he suspected she was leaving for a date with Marcus again. And he would ask her about it again if he saw her. Thus, the dreading.
The look he gave her every time when he heard her talking about or speaking with Marcus made her heart clench almost painfully – like a kicked puppy.
Furrowing her brow, she thought that it was his own fault, really, and then rushed to get past the bullpen and out to the elevators.
Just when she thought she had made it through unscathed, Jane emerged from the kitchen, a fresh cup of tea in hand.
"Oh, hey Lisbon," he said, and already had that look on his face.
"Hi, Jane," she said, and hated her voice for pitching that high.
"Out with Marcus, I see," he stated, and he sounded so hollow when he said it that Lisbon could hardly keep herself from grimacing.
How did he dare make her feel pitiful for him?
She saw his eyes wander over the dress she was wearing – emerald green this time, far too expensive in her opinion, but Marcus had bought it for her and urged her to wear it tonight. Apparently, Jane approved of her outfit, but didn't comment this time. Lisbon couldn't help but feel grateful.
She steeled her resolve and smiled. "Yeah."
"Well then, I think you'll have a great time."
That obviously was all he was going to say tonight – albeit she deemed it slightly strange, he'd never said that before, it had always been "have a good time" -, so she smiled again and moved past him.
"I will. Night, Jane."
As soon as she was past him, she let the smile drop and rushed to the elevators. She hurriedly pressed the "down" button and silently cursed the speed at which elevators travelled.
Marcus met her in front of the restaurant, beaming at her when he saw her.
"Hi, Teresa," he said, wrapping an arm around her waist and drawing her closer.
"You look stunning," he whispered in her ear, and she shivered, smiling.
"Thank you," she said in a low, seductive voice, one she had only recently discovered she had.
Marcus kissed her temple, then turned and led her to the restaurant's entrance. They were shown to their table – right in the middle of the restaurant, Lisbon noticed. Not the more secluded booth they'd had the last time.
They sat down, and a waiter presented them with the French menu. Marcus asked him for a bottle of champagne. It made Lisbon frown. Wasn't wine enough? It had certainly served its purpose the last time they'd been here. She pushed that thought away and concentrated on the menu.
When the waiter came back to their table, he had the requested champagne with him and poured Marcus a sample. Marcus took a sip and Lisbon smirked amusedly when he smacked his lips, trying to look like a connoisseur. Had it been Jane, it would have been a real connoisseur. Quickly, she shoved Jane out of her mind, as he always brought the feeling of not-so-faint guilt up in her.
Marcus nodded at the waiter and the man poured them generous glasses. Marcus raised his, and she followed suit. They clinked glasses, smiling at each other, and sipped at their glasses. Well, she sipped while Marcus more or less swallowed half of the glass in one gulp.
"Teresa," he said, "you remember my offer of going to D.C. with me?"
Goddamn hell, shit. He wasn't expecting a decision from her right now, was he? Because she had no freaking idea if she wanted to go to freaking Washington with him.
Nervously, Lisbon licked her lips. "Yes, I do," she said, and noticed she was sounding slightly panicked.
Marcus shot her a reassuring smile. "It's okay, no need to hurry things. This isn't about D.C."
"This?" Lisbon asked, her voice still wavering a little.
"Yes," Marcus said meaningfully, and his smile turned somewhat self-conscious and serious, "this."
Then he rose from his seat, walked up to her and took her hands, pulling her gently out of her chair. Lisbon noticed a few people were starting to stare at them.
"Marcus," she hissed, "what are you doing?"
When she stood, her heart hammering in her chest, she had a feeling she hadn't ever really felt real dread, because it was tearing her apart internally at the moment.
And that was when Marcus did what she had feared. He got down on one knee.
Shit.
That was all she was capable of thinking right then. Marcus was still holding her hands and she hoped he would not feel them get sweaty. Her face began to feel hot and she imagined herself getting as red as an overly ripe tomato.
"Teresa, I know that we haven't been together that long, and some people might consider this rushed," Marcus began, and Lisbon had to restrain herself from slapping her forehead.
He really was going to do this.
"But I have the feeling that I would miss a great chance if I let you go, so I simply won't let you go. Don't worry about D.C., the job doesn't matter to me – not as much as you do."
He let go of her hands and reached into his jacket pocket, drawing out a little silk box. He opened it, revealing a silver ring with a bigger diamond flanked by two smaller ones.
"So, I want to ask you: Teresa Lisbon, will you do me the honor and become my beautiful wife?"
Her mouth was as dry as a desert. She imagined her eyes had to be bulging out of their sockets by now and she felt as if the world around her did not think much of staying still instead of swaying from the left to the right, because her sight was beginning to blur a little in front of her.
The job doesn't matter to me – not as much as you do.
You have no idea how much you mean to me.
I think you'll have a great time.
The bastard. He'd known. Jane had known Marcus was going to do this.
Her sight cleared, and she looked down at Marcus, his eyes big and hopeful, shining in the dim lighting and the flickering reflection of burning candles in his eyes. She looked at the ring again, thinking it was really beautiful, imagining it on her left hand.
Then she gulped. Suddenly aware how silent everyone was. The clatter of silverware against plates and the constant low hum of people chatting over their meals had died down.
They were waiting for her answer. She had to make a decision, and quick. Gulping again, she braced herself.
As fast as lightning, she grabbed her purse which she had hung over the back of the chair she'd been sitting on, then turned around and sprinted out of the restaurant, not caring about her jacket at the wardrobe. She dashed through the doors, not paying any attention as they slammed against the wall behind her and quickly pried open the door of her car, started the engine and pulled out of the parking lot onto the street.
She didn't really feel bad about leaving him there, humiliated in the midst of a whole restaurant.
She had instinctively turned left, in the direction of the FBI Headquarters. The adrenaline in her veins was wearing off already when she arrived, and her knees felt as if they might buckle at any given moment, so she carefully slipped out of her shoes and climbed out of her SUV.
Then she let herself inside the building and took the elevator back to their floor.
Jane was still there when she padded into the bullpen, his eyes closed, his breathing even. But she knew he wasn't sleeping.
Stopping in front of his couch, she put her hands on her hips. When she saw him lying there so peacefully, like a little angel, looking for all the world as if he'd never do anything forbidden, she felt anger push up her adrenaline levels again.
"Jane," she growled.
He opened his eyes and looked at her, arching one eyebrow. "Lisbon, I wouldn't have expected you back this evening. Has something gone wrong with Pike?"
She was at a loss of words when she felt like shouting. "You are a self-absorbed asshole, do you know that?" she said eventually.
"I thought we had established that a long time ago," he said, looking unimpressed.
Lisbon huffed at him. "Yeah, actually we did. But apparently, you don't give a shit about what other people feel, right? You just don't care. You don't give a fu-"
"Lisbon, no need for so drastic measures," he interrupted her rant, a smile – albeit sad – gracing his features. "Why have you decided to come back and shout at me for no apparent reason?"
That was what made her explode. "No apparent reason?! I'll give you no apparent reason, you freaking idiot!"
She jabbed an accusing finger at him. "You knew Marcus was going to propose."
Jane's smile faltered. "Yes, I did."
If she had been able to, Lisbon would have loved to have laser beams out of her eyes and turn Jane into a pile of dust. "How? How the freaking hell did you know?"
To her surprise, Jane sighed and leaned back against the couch. "He showed me the ring. He asked if I thought you'd like it."
Lisbon felt her jaw fall open.
"Shit," she breathed, turning away from Jane, one hand wandering to her forehead and raking through her hair. "He asked you for freaking permission?"
"Well, indirectly, yes. I told him you'd love it, which is the truth."
Lisbon nodded. She could not deny that she had found the ring beautiful. It was nothing flashy. A delicate little something she could easily have worn at work.
"And then, he asked me if he was being too fast about it. I said he wasn't. That you had been waiting for something far too long in your life."
The goddamn self-reference made her want to punch him. Instead, she said: "And you didn't bother to warn me?"
"It would have taken away the surprise."
"You know I hate surprises."
"No, you don't. You love them, if they are done the right way."
Lisbon huffed again. "Well, I certainly didn't love this one."
Jane's head perked up. "Why? Didn't you accept?"
Lisbon sighed exasperatedly and held up her left hand. "Do you see me wearing a goddamn ring?"
In a flash, Jane was off his couch and inspecting her left hand. His skin was warm on hers and as Jane looked her in the eyes, she could not help herself but smile at his flabbergasted expression.
Suddenly, she found herself in a tight embrace, clutched to Jane's chest, one hand at the small of her back, the other in her hair.
"Thank God," he whispered in her ear, and on a whim, she decided to hug him back.
After a moment, she disentangled herself from him.
"I'm heading home now," she said, after just standing there awkwardly for a few seconds.
The huge grin on Jane's face was really ridiculously wide. "Can I come with you?"
Lisbon chuckled, subconsciously – or maybe not so much subconsciously after all - laying on her seductive voice. "What the hell do you take me for? I just broke up with my boyfriend."
Jane shrugged, trying to stay nonchalant. But she'd seen the slight dilation of his pupils there for a moment. "I don't know. Maybe I just know you've been in love with me for years?"
Lisbon let her voice return to normal, and laughed outright.
"Jackass," she said, shoving him slightly in the shoulder. "I'm tired, Jane, really. I haven't had nearly enough alcohol to be able to deal with this all at once. That one sip of champagne before he got down on one knee wasn't sufficient for that."
Jane sighed, but Lisbon still saw the happy glint in his eyes. "Can I at least kiss you?"
She bit her lip, contemplating it. She saw herself sorely tempted, then grinned at Jane mischievously. "Maybe tomorrow," she said.
"You," Jane said pointedly, "are torture, woman."
"Don't pretend you haven't done the same to me, Jane," she said.
At once, his expression turned serious. "I won't. I promise."
Lisbon gave him another soft smile. "Good. Goodnight, Jane."
Then she turned around, a lot more satisfied than when she'd left the office for the first time this evening. She went to sleep smiling, thinking about the next day.
The next morning, when she came into the office, Jane wasn't there yet. She frowned slightly, but settled herself at her desk and began working on some forms that needed to be filled out.
When he strolled in about half an hour after her, he walked straight to her desk, just when she was talking to Fischer.
"Sorry to hear you broke it off with Marcus," he said, keeping his features schooled.
Fischer immediately rounded on Lisbon. "You broke it off?" she asked, surprise lacing her voice.
Lisbon shot Jane a quick glare. "I did."
"When? Why?"
Grinning widely, Jane went to his couch, flopping down on it and watching Lisbon struggle for an answer.
"Uh…yesterday, actually."
Fischer still wasn't satisfied. "Yes, but for what reason?"
Biting her lip, Lisbon smiled. "I don't know. He was trying to rush me into things. Guess I didn't like that. Apart from that, I hate French restaurants."
Frowning, Fischer gave her a confused smile and turned around, walking towards the kitchen. The news would soon have made its round. The FBI wasn't as fast as the CBI had been when it came to spreading rumors, but it was getting there.
