Title: Tick Tock
Author: tromana
Rating: M
Warnings: language, underage drinking, taking of illegal substances, violence, death of major characters
Disclaimer: I do not own Skins or The Mentalist (or The 39 Steps, which is name-dropped heavily).
Summary: Time is running out. For some, faster than others.
Notes: I apologise for the extensive notes but I feel this fic requires them. Please feel free to skip them.

This fic was written for Round 2 of the Skins Big Bang over on LiveJournal.

Thank you:

A huge thank you to for introducing me to Skins, encouraging me to actually watch when I had this plotbunny before I'd even watched the show, for being an amazing cheerleader, brilliant beta and wonderful artist.

And for always being there for me, just generally. *hugs*

So, even if you don't want to read the fic because you think I'm completely and utterly nuts for mashing up these two fandoms, please go show her some love because she deserves it. The art is, after all, just a fraction of what she's done for me.

Timelines:

Show timelines have been fudged a bit to make this work. It is set during Season Three of the Mentalist, post 3x09 Red Moon but before 3x16 Red Queen. For Skins, it is set post Series Five. The time of year has also been shifted to late Autumn, early Novemberish of 2011, after the clocks have gone forward. This means that episodes of the Mentalist are possibly happening at different times of year compared to when they usually would.

General notes:

Areas of this will require a lot of suspension of disbelief. I've taken a few liberties with certain characters, such as Craig O'Laughlin and Rich Hardbeck. I apologise if people think I've gone too far on occasion, but again, this is mostly to make the story work. Also, Grace and Alo have both been allowed back into Roundview. Or rather, David Blood allowed Grace to continue there and let Alo back in after he promised to clean up his act.

I would normally write the Mentalist fan fiction in American English. As this was written for the Skins Big Bang and originally started out as a Skins plot bunny with added Red John, I have used my native British English.

Now, onto the fic.

x tromana

Tick tock, the clock
Somehow starts to calm you
The clock, slowly sneaks upon you
Are you losing time?

- Clockwork by Julie Atherton

Part One

Bristol, UK, Tuesday, 01.29am GMT

He took two steps to the left, then one to the right. At the very last second, he appeared to change his mind once again and veered dangerously back to the left once more. His foot slipped off the kerb and onto the road, nearly pulling his entire body directly in front of an oncoming car.

Fuck. That was shit timing, really.

Aloysius was lucky, however. Under normal circumstances, he would have patted down his body frantically, made sure that everything was where it was meant to be and there were no serious cuts or bruises. Checked that he still had all his possessions: mobile, mp3 player, wallet and that nothing was broken, including bones. Every other close call, he had let out a heavy sigh of relief, to indicate that all was well and there wasn't any problems. Instead, he simply let out a loud, sharp laugh. The situation was bizarrely amusing. And quite frankly, he couldn't give a shit.

"You fucking wanker," the man from the care hollered in his general direction. There was a slight slur to his speech. Clearly, he was driving under the influence, though whether or not that was alcohol, drugs, or both was less obvious. Should probably have left the car at home. Like Alo, he didn't seem to give a fuck.

Alo, however, didn't have time to snap an angry retort. Instead, he merely flicked his wrist and stuck his middle finger up at the offending driver. That was definitely the most appropriate way for him to maintain his dignity in his current state. Besides, he wasn't quite sure whether or not his mouth was ready to form words again. Well, not yet, anyway. Give it another fifteen minutes or so and then maybe he would feel somewhat coherent once more.

He loved this feeling. The way his mind was effectively cleared from all the shit usually whirring around it, albeit temporarily. How he buzzed from the top of his head to the very tip of his toes. The warm self-satisfied glow that came from the pit of his stomach and warmed his entire body, right the way to the extremities.

Alo was drunk. More than that, he was as high as a kite, too.

Oh he knew all the dangers and had been told the risks time and time again. Theoretically, it should have been enough to deter any interest in drugs for the rest of his life. But that was the problem: theory didn't always work in practise. Besides, it was always natural for teenagers to rebel against figures of authority. Teachers, parents, counsellors, whatever. What did they expect from someone like him? For him to toe the line and meekly follow each and every one of their instructions? Contrary to the popular belief of those kind of adults, it didn't make a difference. Their horror stories simply made the drugs seem subversive, exciting, cool. And anyway, it was a way of sticking one up at the police. What good had those arseholes ever done for him? For anyone he knew?

Besides, it made him seem cool and edgy to the womenfolk. They liked that sort of thing. Men who stood out from the crowd. Who weren't afraid to take risks, to try something different every once in a while.

Not that it was exactly working at this particular moment in time. He still hadn't been laid often enough for his liking. Alo, after all, didn't want people thinking he was a loser. Or worse, gay. That would do nothing whatsoever for his reputation.

But tonight, he was going to do something about it. For tonight, he was invincible. On top of the world.

And Liv was walking directly towards him.

Sacramento, CA, USA, Monday, 05.29pm PST

With his tongue poking determinedly out of the corner of his mouth, Patrick Jane laid on the office floor. He let out a quiet sigh of relief; Lisbon hadn't noticed. Yet. It was only a matter of time. Then again, the woman always seemed to find herself deeply engrossed in paperwork after a heavy case, to the extent that it was almost impossible to break her out of her reverie. Really, she was a far more fascinating woman than that. Jane knew full well that she had a wide variety of interests; he'd spent long enough picking her brains and reading her body language to know her inside out. However, if a stranger walked into her office right at that moment of time, it would be forgivable if they were to think otherwise.

It was all well and good for her to be so stimulated by something so mundane, but he was bored.

Then again, it didn't take much for him to reach that state. Jane didn't find it as much of a problem if they were working on a case and he had to wait for a plan - his plan - to come to fruition. Then, there was a point to the waiting, a reason for the lull. Usually, when they finished a case, they had another to be hurled straight into. It wasn't unusual for the Serious Crimes Unit to be running several cases concurrently as well as dealing with those headed to court either. However, crime in California seemed to have taken a hit. Like the criminals had exhausted themselves after a long and busy summer. Even the other units in the CBI appeared to have no need for his considerable expertise. Tomorrow was a court day for Lisbon, which meant he would be doomed to boredom. Unless, he snuck in of course and then things could get interesting. But at this moment in time? He had nothing to do. Literally. Case closed, no other ones to work on. Unless he could be bothered to dig out a cold case or two to pore over, but he couldn't. Jane wasn't sodesperate that he would willingly offer himself up for unnecessary work.

Instead, he rummaged around in his pocket and grinned when he finally managed to pull out a small rubber ball. Then, he frowned slightly. Jane had meant to give it to the young son of the victim involved in their last case. That obviously hadn't happened; an unusual slip of the mind for his part. Still, it was fortuitous in a way, mainly because it meant that he actually had some kind of entertainment now. He bounced it once against the back of Lisbon's desk and then a second time.

Then, she snapped.

It hadn't taken her long, all things considered. Normally, Lisbon had more patience than several saints combined. She also had very little reason to be so short-tempered. He'd behaved, for a change, during their current case. Red John had been quiet for a while, so there was no stress on that front. However, there was still the matter of the ongoing investigation into the death on CBI territory. Of their only link to Red John, but that was something that should be troubling him more than her.

"Do you mind?"

"Not really. Do you?"

Lisbon tutted and sighed. Jane knew she was about to switch into the 'direct approach'. It was what she always used when she thought she wouldn't get anywhere with him.

"What are you doing lying on my office floor and playing with a child's toy?"

"Stopping myself from getting bored."

"Why don't you just go home? There's nothing left to do here until morning."

"But you'll be here alone."

"Yes, because I'm writing up the Garcia case. The one where you broke into Garcia Enterprises illegally?"

"Ah. Oh yes, but I think you'll find-"

"Look," she interrupted, though more softly this time. "If something comes up, I'll call you, okay?"

Jane nodded and left. He knew Lisbon would be pleased with that one, would think that she had actually succeeded in expunging him from her office with little to no effort. However, he knew that it was always useful to maintain unpredictability.

Bristol, UK, Tuesday, 02.13am GMT

Liv was easy. Everyone knew that. So, she'd slept with Nick a couple of times and had appeared to be getting things somewhat steady with Matty. She had tried splitting up with Matty, if only for a little while, but for some reason, had been drawn back to him. But all that didn't make a fucking difference. It was common knowledge that Liv would fuck anything in sight, provided she'd drunk enough or taken enough drugs. Or both.

So she'd never actually made a pass at Alo. Then again, he hadn't tried it on with her before now either.

He'd almost tripped over his own feet as he attempted to catch up with her. Still, he'd persevered. Alo wasn't going to let the small issue of a matter of metres get in the way of getting laid.

"Fuck. Shit."

Liv had stopped and turned, cocking an eyebrow. Immediately, he could tell that she was somewhat surprised to see him on the same street as herself. If he hadn't been completely out of it, he would have questioned why she wasn't with Matty. Why she was alone. Why somebody, anybody, else wasn't getting lucky with her. So, she wasn't as hot as Grace or Mini or as quirky as Franky, but that didn't mean she didn't have her charms. There had to be something about her for her to be able to have sex so often.

"You're wasted."

"So are you."

But that was three quarters of an hour ago now. A lot changed in that time. To be honest, everything had changed in a millisecond, never mind minutes.

That was how long it took for bliss to turn to agony.

Alo wasn't quite sure what had happened, but he knew Liv had been compliant. Yes, there was her jacket, slung over by the swings. The park was a lot more private than a street, so they had headed straight there.

However, they'd been interrupted. He hadn't noticed the approaching footsteps, nor the lingering smell of tobacco and body odour in the air. It wasn't until somebody had punched the living daylights out of him that he realised they weren't alone at all.

When he'd come around, a man, presumably the one who'd whacked him around the head, was hovering over Liv.

Slowly, the man turned to face him and Alo shrank back slightly.

"Give me your wallet."

"Why?"

"I said give it to me."

Nervously, he stood, whilst rummaging in his pocket. Eventually, his fingers came into contact with a hand gun. Alo couldn't remember putting it in there, but he knew it was probably one of his Dad's. A mere tool for use around the farm, to defend the crops from vermin. At that moment in time, he didn't care that it should be in the lock up. In fact, it simply seemed like a moment of good fortune. The other man had a knife, so this equalled things out a bit. He had the right to defend himself, to protect Liv, didn't he?

The man lunged.

With his eyes tightly shut, Alo had pulled the trigger three times. It was stupid, dangerous, he knew that. However, he hadn't been thinking straight. There was still a cocktail of drugs and alcohol coursing through his system, mixed with a healthy dose of adrenaline. Besides, he'd never pointed a gun at another human being before. Rabbits, pheasants, crows, he thought nothing of. But people? He'd had it drilled into him at a young age that you never do that.

He never saw the bullets pierce through Liv's skin. Neither did their assailant, who had fled the moment he realised that Alo actually knew how to use a gun.

Alo knew that if somebody told him forty minutes ago that Liv would be laying in front of him, in the middle of a playground, surrounded by cigarette butts and empty bottles of booze, he wouldn't have believed it. Well, he'd have been slightly sceptical at least. Normally, Liv found a man's bed to crash in, somewhere. When they added the fact that her body was broken, bruised and bloodied, he would have laughed in their faces.

Nervously, he checked for a pulse. No sign of it. Breathing? Nope.

Why the fuck hadn't he aimed properly? Removed the bullets? Put in fucking blanks or something? Why couldn't he have just used the gun as a scare tactic, rather than an actual offensive weapon? He was a stupid, fucking shithead and because of that, one of his mates was bleeding to death on the ground.

And why the fuck had it taken him far too fucking long to even fucking notice?

Nervously, Alo laid his head on her chest. There was no heartbeat either.

"Liv," he yelled. "Liv, wake up!"

He repeated the words and shook her shoulders desperately. Tried CPR, something that probably was doing more harm than good and staunching her wounds. Anything that would make her at least the slightest bit responsive.

After five minutes, he was exhausted. His voice had grown hoarse from the yelling.

Liv was dead. He'd killed her. He hadn't even meant to; it had just spiralled out of control.

Fuck.

TBC…