Disclaimer: I neither own nor make money from The Mentalist, although it does greatly enrich my writing life.
Author's Note: I'm so excited to be part of the Super Duper Tag Project with such talented writers! See Starry's Red Handed tag for further info. I've always loved this episode, but it's even more interesting watching it now, of course. I hope this tag adds a little something worthwhile.
Rock, Paper, Scissors: A 01x02 Red Hair and Silver Tape Tag
After Melanie O'Keefe's funeral, Lisbon and Jane got into the SUV in silence, the others having already left in the other vehicle. What was there to say, after all? Lisbon hated cases where the victim was so young, leaving the family to grieve not only the girl but her lost life. Her lost potential. They would always wonder what she would have done with her life if she'd been allowed to live it, if she hadn't crossed paths with such evil, sick people.
Did Jane wonder that about his daughter? He must, right? As he counted the birthdays ticking away with no celebrations, or saw blonde girls the age she would have been? No matter how functional he seemed, there had to be times he was crushed under the pain of that loss. Lisbon didn't claim to be an expert on Patrick Jane—she doubted anyone living was—but she'd seen enough random acts of kindness from him to know he wasn't heartless. Far from it, in fact.
Lisbon wondered what Jane's hand on her shoulder had meant; she had never seen him touch anyone sincerely. To pick their pockets, plant evidence, or hypnotize them, yes. To comfort or reassure, no. He just didn't seem very tactile. It was part of his general self-contained air.
But in this case she couldn't see a reason for it, except for comfort. But was he taking it or trying to give it? Both, maybe. As odd as it was to think of Jane wanting comfort, he was still human behind that careless facade. When she was angriest with him, she always tried to remember that somewhere behind that mask was someone deeply hurting. He'd loved his family, and their loss had broken something in him.
She couldn't help but wonder sometimes about the lost potential of Jane. What if his wife had been able to convince him to abandon his career as a psychic? Or what if he'd had a more average childhood, one that had given him more mainstream career prospects than being unbeatable at Rock, Paper, Scissors or hypnotizing people?
Or coming up with schemes that nearly ended in disaster. If things had gone down a little differently, she might have found herself at Jane's funeral today, staggering under the guilt of knowing he'd died by her hand.
"Jane."
He didn't so much as glance at her. "Lisbon," he replied in an annoyingly even tone.
One thing she'd learned early on was that if Jane didn't feel like talking, he wouldn't. But that was okay. In this case, she just needed him to listen.
"We need to discuss how this went down."
Jane let out a sigh. "Somehow I don't think you're going to apologize for your impatience. Or your lack of faith in my ability to pick out the guilty party."
"You guessed right. Congratulations," Lisbon said, her tone dry. "And it nearly got you killed."
"Oh please. I knew you couldn't have gotten far."
Lisbon decided to get straight to her point. "When you see me come into the room pointing a gun, don't hide, and get as far from the suspects as you can. I need to know where you are so I don't accidentally hit you if I have to fire."
Jane hummed a little, looking thoughtful. "I suppose I'm lucky Chef Malcolm was so fond of his butter."
"You are. A bullet fired at close range can go right through a person and retain enough velocity to injure anyone standing behind them, even fatally."
Jane grinned, finally looking at her. "I love it when you quote your CBI handbook at me."
Lisbon rolled her eyes, but she knew she didn't need to repeat her point. Jane might pretend not to care, but he'd file the fact away in that big brain and remember it. He didn't want to die before he got Red John, she knew.
"I will do my utmost not to add to your paperwork by inconveniently getting in the way of your bullet," Jane assured her.
"See that you do. The paperwork would be a bear, for both me and Minelli. And speaking of paperwork, Sheriff McAllister has a nice big stack with our names on it."
Jane grimaced. "You can drop me off anywhere. I'll find my own way home."
"No way. You made this mess; you're gonna help clean it up."
"I catch the bad guys; you do the paperwork. A fair division of labor. If I start doing paperwork, it will disrupt the delicate balance of our teamwork. You might have to start coming up with complicated schemes or picking pockets while I tick boxes with a number two pencil. We'd both be miserable."
Lisbon bit down on a chuckle at the image. She could just see him bent over her desk, concentrating fiercely as he filled out forms, occasionally running a hand through those golden curls in frustration, making them even more sexy—
Oh God, where did that come from? Could she be any more inappropriate?
"You can avoid the paperwork if you'll soothe the sheriff's ruffled feathers," she offered. "So he doesn't file complaints against all of us."
"He irks me," Jane complained.
"Which isn't a good excuse." The man could charm the birds out of the trees if he put his mind to it. He could convince a grumpy sheriff not to hurt Rigsby and Van Pelt's careers.
"Fine," Jane grumbled. "But I won't be held responsible if you leave me alone with him for too long."
"Don't worry," she grinned. "I'll protect you from the big bad sheriff."
mmm
Lisbon didn't mind the paperwork for once. Sheriff McAllister was far from the worst local law enforcement officer she'd had to deal with, but there was something about his folksy attitude that grated on her nerves. Let Jane deal with him. A little diplomacy would be good for him. They were within earshot, so she didn't have to worry about things getting too far out of hand.
"I know our methods may seem unorthodox," was Jane's opening gambit. "But you have to admit, we got results."
"Yup." McAllister paused, then continued, "Which you'd still have gotten if you'd let me know about your little undercover plan. As you should have, seeing as this is my county."
"A valid point," Jane said, sounding sympathetic. "However, we couldn't rule out anyone who was at the Shand Creek Winery the night Melanie was killed. I'm sure you understand, Sheriff, the need to apply methodical, precise investigative principles to any murder investigation. You wouldn't want us to go around guessing, would you?"
Lisbon nearly choked. She'd thought her brothers had prepared her to survive any amount of bullshit unscathed, but the three of them combined had nothing on Patrick Jane when it came to sheer effrontery.
"I guess not," McAllister admitted.
"And though your attempt to help Agent Van Pelt ended badly, it showed real character," Jane continued. "Commendable. I can tell you really care about the safety of the people in your charge."
"Well, thanks, I guess." There was another pause before McAllister said, "And what do you care about, Mr. Jane?"
Jane gave a short half-hum, half-chuckle. "Catching the bad guys, of course. Knowing I've made California safer for redheads everywhere brings no small degree of satisfaction."
"And all by yourself, too," Lisbon muttered.
Jane didn't miss a beat. "And the appreciation of my colleagues for my part in a job well done is always gratifying."
"And how did a fella like yourself become a law enforcement consultant?" McAllister asked.
"It's a long story," Jane said. "But you can credit Agent Lisbon with the discovery that my skill set was compatible with the goals of the CBI."
"Really? Well now. It seems we all owe Agent Lisbon a debt."
Something in his tone made Lisbon frown. Jane was being singularly ineffective. "Jane," she said, "are you sure you can't lower yourself to fill out a few forms? It'd go that much faster."
Jane pretended not to hear her. "I consider myself in her debt, yes."
"And yet you won't help her with the paperwork." McAllister sounded smug.
"Because she would find my assistance more irritating than helpful," Jane replied.
Lisbon reflected that for once, Jane was probably telling the truth.
"Isn't irritating part of what you do, Gizmo?"
Hm, Lisbon thought. Maybe the sheriff was sharper than he seemed.
"Only when it's to my advantage," Jane said.
"Smartest guy in the room, ain't ya?"
Jane chuckled. "I can hardly agree to that without causing offense. You don't want Agent Lisbon to leave me here, do you?"
"I imagine you'd get pretty bored up here in Napa."
"Nonsense. Sunshine, fine wines, and good food. I'm sure I could manage to enjoy myself," Jane said cheerfully. "Look on the bright side, Sheriff: your charming county has a very low murder rate. Chances are you'll never have to see us again."
"Don't mean to sound inhospitable," McAllister said, "but I hope that's true. I've seen enough death to last me quite a while."
"I hear you." Jane shoved his hands in his pockets and sighed.
Lisbon remembered Jane's shell shocked expression at the hotel. It was good he wasn't getting used to death. But if he hadn't sprung that crazy plan on her, maybe she could have taken the couple into custody instead of having to shoot them. Had he thought of that?
Quickly finishing up the last form, she got to her feet. "Sheriff, thanks for your assistance. I'm sorry things didn't go exactly by the book, but we did close the case in the end. And hopefully you won't have a need for our services anytime soon."
"It was a pleasure meeting you, Agent Lisbon. A real pleasure." McAllister shook her hand. Then he turned to Jane, extending his hand. "And Mr. Jane. It was...unforgettable."
Jane flashed his dazzling smile as he shook hands. "Thanks for the hospitality, Sheriff. And I do hope you'll forgive Rigsby's enthusiasm to protect Van Pelt, since it's something you have in common."
"I guess no harm came of it," McAllister admitted. "But you should be more careful, Mr. Jane. Not every case is so simple. Not every game is as easy as Rock, Paper, Scissors. Sometimes it's more like chess."
"If we happen to meet again, we'll have to try our hands at that," Jane said cheerfully. "Come on, Lisbon. It's a long drive. And I'm feeling the need for some fresh fruit."
Lisbon decided McAllister wasn't in the mood to make formal complaints anymore and let Jane hurry her out the door. She couldn't wait to get out of Napa County.
And fresh fruit sounded good, actually.