Fine Lines
Rated: Gish
Spoilers: None
Disclaimer: "I've got money in my pocket. I've got a house; I've got a car..." I've also got a $40,000 student loan and no ownership of The Mentalist. So don't sue me, please.
Summary: Maybe his superwoman was human after all. Jisbon thoughtful flirty fluff. Enjoy!
A/N: Thanks so much for reading. Hope you enjoy this one-shot!
Best wishes and lots of love,
Christine
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Teresa Lisbon was not a vain woman. Of course, she was careful to maintain her appearance and picked out well-cut clothes that complimented her petite figure. Unbeknownst to most, she always kept her toenails freshly painted, and she had a standing appointment every six weeks to have her hair styled at an upscale salon. But all things considered, Teresa was not a vain woman.
Which is why Patrick Jane was surprised to look up from his couch one evening as Lisbon was leaving, to see her stop by a small mirror on the office wall and put a hand to her cheek. His wife had made the same inspection every morning in her dresser mirror to observe deepening smile lines and the beginnings of crow's feet. He smiled softly at the familiar gesture, but his face turned thoughtful as he realized that Lisbon was frowning at herself as if displeased with what she found. Something stirred inside him at that thought, and he considered that maybe his superwoman was human after all.
He got up from his comfortable seat in the empty office and walked over to stand behind her. Lisbon's eyes rose to meet his in the mirror's reflection. "What do you want, Jane?"
Jane ignored Lisbon's confused expression. His face turned studious as he examined her face. "Just checking out how beautiful you are," he informed her.
Teresa's face immediately flushed bright red, and she huffed. "Excuse me?"
"I'm serious," he said putting his hands on her shoulders and pulling her back against his chest. "Look at you. You had a difficult childhood that you never talk about. You have a stressful job – made all the more stressful by myself," he shrugged unapologetically. "You work well into most evenings and return first thing every morning. You don't get regular meals. You have to deal with criminals and seedy characters everyday... But you look like you could still win the Miss America pageant."
"Jane-" Lisbon tried to move away from the intimate position they were in, but Jane held her firmly in place with one hand, while raising his free hand to his own cheek. He wrinkled up his forehead and fingered the deep ridges that formed.
"Here I am turning into a pumpkin while you are an eternal beauty," he sighed dramatically.
Lisbon scoffed and broke away from him in earnest this time. She couldn't stop smiling though as she turned back to face him. "How do you stay so positive, when your practically falling apart at the seams?" she humoured him.
"It is a wonder, isn't it?" he returned sincerely, continuing to study the lines around his eyes. "Maybe it's like my grandma used to say: The lines on your face are the paths your life has taken. If someone bothers to follow those paths with you, then someday they'll find your heart. Then all the joys and hardships that mark you will be made worthwhile."
Lisbon's smile grew wider. "You just made that up right now, didn't you?"
Jane shrugged as he turned to face her and returned her smile. "Maybe."
"Come on, Prince Charming," she motioned for him to follow her out. "You can walk me to my carriage."
Jane hustled ahead of her and opened the door with a gracious bow. "After you, milady."
"And here I thought chivalry was dead," Lisbon laughed.
"Lisbon, on my honour as a gentleman, I will always be your knight in shining armour."
Lisbon eyed him for a moment, biting back her typical retort that she didn't need him to protect her. She settled for simply shaking her head. "You really are a pumpkin, Jane."
"Your witty tongue cuts deep, Princess," he held a hand to his chest.
"Oh, shut up, Jane," Lisbon stalked out ahead of him, leaving him to rush to catch up.
"Luckily for you, I heal quickly," Jane responded. He remained a couple steps behind her, watching her ebony hair flowing in ripples down her back, sunlight setting it on fire as she walked through the parking lot. She lowered herself gracefully into her car and offered him one last brilliant smile and a small wave. "Goodnight, Jane."
He waved silently in return, and as she pulled out of the CBI, he said a quiet, "Goodnight, Princess."
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The End
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