Things you don't need to know but I will tell you anyway:
Juliet is merely another murderer who the main character trusted, and generally is a mistrusting and manipulative person, who told the main character that they had demons in their past, but was really just aiming to gain the main character's trust and use it to frame another person. But the main character found her out, due to a lucky and convenient clue which would probably never happen or turn up in real life. This pins the blame undeniably on Juliet. Naturally, she then admits the whole thing even though it will give her a prison sentence while hiring a lawyer would have let her off most likely with no consequence. Then in the final confession scene, she talks about how easy it was to manipulate the main character, and the main character feels very sorry for him/herself.
That is the current situation. If you don't understand, choose to ignore the entire thing and read the actual fanfic, though the name Juliet will mean absolutely nothing to you. For those of you who do understand, congratulations because even I don't know what the hell I was talking about.
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What Would You Do?
"I can't believe Juliet did it." Patrick Jane patted his boss' shoulder reassuringly.
"We all make mistakes, give yourself a break." Lisbon attempted to sniff quietly but she was pretty sure that Patrick had heard her. Although she had always hated it when people sympathised with her, she almost wanted him to. Maybe she just wanted more closeness between them.
"Pre-meditated murder is hardly classed as an accident!" I exclaimed, and Patrick squinched up his face.
"Well no, it's not, but the mistake I was referring to was your trust in Juliet."
"You're not helping…" She said through gritted teeth, willing herself not to let anyone see her cry, especially Patrick Jane. She would never hear the end of it! Patrick smiled ruefully, and moved his hand so it was settled at the base of her neck, almost protectively.
"Sorry boss." Lisbon felt her throat tightening up to the point that she could barely breathe. Patrick was rubbing the back of her neck and she just wanted to turn around and lean into him and he would take care of her. He wanted her to know that he was there for her, and all she wanted was for him to be there for her, at this moment in time, and maybe others. Lisbon had already quenched the thoughts that she wanted Patrick to be a part of her future, and not as a colleague. But it would probably run down to the ground, like all of her other relationships, due to either her excessive professional drive and long hours, or his irksome characteristics, for example, always knowing what she is thinking, and playing games with her mind.
She realised her eyes were closed, and she was quite enjoying the neck rub.
"Jane, I need to erm… do paperwork." The consultant stopped his massage but Teresa found herself not wanting him to. She attempted to push herself off the hood of her car - which was where they were leaning against - but one of Patrick's surprisingly strong arms encircled her waist and she was tugged back onto it, gently yet forcefully.
"No paperwork, not today and not after what you have just been through." 'Well what else is there to do in my life?' She asked herself. Patrick smiled. "Go home. Relax. Eat some ice cream and watch some old movies." Teresa smiled at how much he knew her.
"I don't feel like staying in tonight." Patrick was just about to ask her why she was lying to him, when he looked further into her words and found his answer.
"If you don't want to be alone, I can come with you." It was yet another gesture to make her feel better which she misunderstood drastically.
"Just because I am upset about something does not mean that I will automatically jump into bed with you,"
"Lisbon-"
"I mean, is that what you really think of me? Because this time you are so wrong."
"Lisbon listen-"
"I still have morals, you know, they haven't magically disappeared-"
"Teresa!" the shock of him using her first name, and the force in his voice brought her back down to earth. "I was not offering to stay with you like that, I was meaning in more of a friendly way." 'whoops.' she thought, and her mouth formed a small o shape. She rubbed her face, exhausted by the day's exultations. She hadn't slept in a while.
"Oh. Sorry." A smile climbed its way onto Patrick's face.
"But if you're offering…" She gave him her best withering glare, first checking that he was joking. Many a good opportunity had been lost due to such confusion.
"No thank you Jane, I am just fine by myself." He raised an eyebrow, and she belatedly realized the wrongness of her statement. Cursing herself mentally, she decided to speak up before he could say anything rude or insulting. "I just mean, that I am doing just fine without a man to…you know."
"No I don't what could you possible mean?" She narrowed her eyes at him threateningly.
"But if you want me to come over, I'm free." He opened his arms wide to show that he had nothing to hide, and nothing to hide from her, and his eyebrows were arched, as if asking her permission to make her feel better. Teresa regarded him long and hard, trying to see past his jolly exterior and into what he was really thinking. She soon gave up, though, supposing that really, it was quite hard to read far into a mind-reader's thoughts.
"Nah, I'll be fine on my own. But thanks." He smiled. Neither of them moved, and his arm was still around her waist protectively. She secretly did not want him to move it, which was good because he really did not want to move it. Instead, he took a bold move and wiggled his fingers slightly. She almost smiled, but contained herself just in time.
"Jane?" she warned, unsure of whether he was going to attempt it or not. He smiled, and she felt her spirits rise a tiny bit more. He moved his fingers again and her mouth twisted into a slight smile. "Don't even think about it!" he grinned, knowing that she wanted him to, secretly.
He began to tickle her violently, and she twisted away from him, giggling. He laughed out loud in shock. In both of the years that he had known Teresa, he had never heard her giggle. Chuckle, yes. Laugh, maybe. But he had never heard actually heard her giggle. Teresa herself was shocked. She hadn't heard herself giggle in longer. In fact, she could barely remember the last time she had giggled.
"Lisbon!"
"I know!" For once she knew what he was about to say before he said it. "I haven't giggled since twelfth grade when Manny Jones asked me to the prom."
"Can't have been that long ago." Teresa shrugged.
"Certainly feels like it." They stared into the distance, separate now, though their shoulders were still touching. "I wish I was that young again." He smiled slightly.
"Yeah it was good." She gave him a look.
"I don't know what you're complaining about. You're still young."
"I'm only two years younger than you, Lisbon. And I look older."
"No you don't." Neither had really realized that they were doing that annoying thing where people compliment each other to the point that they are cheapening themselves, or their own looks and actions in an attempt to make the other feel better about themselves. Teresa hated it when people did that. She always thought it made them seem like they were in love. Patrick thought it was nice when people did that. It showed their appreciation of each other in a way that was sweet and so little that it would be forgotten, though the sentiment remained.
The trees moved slightly in the wind, and Patrick frowned. Teresa looked at him anxiously, sensing he was having another feeling about something.
"What is it, Jane?" He held up a finger, and stared into the distance, at no discernable object or being.
"I think we should go inside the car now." Teresa did not ask why, she just followed his advice - because she had accepted a long time ago that most of the time, his advice was almost always correct in some way or another.
Sure enough, mere moments after I had shut the door of the big black SUV, rain started to pitter-patter on the windscreen, before converting rapidly from drizzling to torrential. Teresa laughed at Patrick's intuition skills, although she had been slightly wary of what he was scared of before.
"You're scared of the rain?" She asked him, incredulous that anyone could be scared of water. He glanced out the windows warily, not looking at her.
"Not scared, I just don't like it." He looked over to see her, eyebrows raised. "No seriously! Ever since I was a kid I've always hated rain."
"Why? I mean, it's just water."
"Hmm. When I was seven I was locked out of the house. I almost got hypothermia and ever since I have hated the rain."
"No one let you back into the house?" Patrick chuckled.
"That's the funny part. My whole family was in but everyone had earplugs in because of our neighbours' teenage son who loved Metallica. It was at night."
"Why were you outside in the middle of the night?" Teresa asked, although she knew that the answer would not make any sense to her - it was coming from Patrick for God's sake!
"I was checking on the dog because I heard it barking. I was overly adventurous and thought everything was a threat to the world's security. Ended up it was just a cat, but that's ten year olds for you. Everything's make-believe."
"Yeah I've been there." They realized that they were having a nostalgic moment, and snapped out of it immediately. "This is making me feel old." Patrick nodded in agreement, grimacing. "Let's stop."
"Done."
"Right."
"Good."
"Yes, it is."
"Yeah." She glanced sideways at him, but he was too busy staring out the window to notice. She would never admit it out loud, but she found this man fascinating. Hypnosis, 'mind-reading', other unorthodox methods, made Patrick Jane officially the most interesting one in the department. Sure, Cho was all for justice being served, Van Pelt was very sweet and kind and generous, and Rigsby was the manliest, but Jane was by far the most interesting, in her department.
She found it odd to experience such vivid and exhilarating daydreams about this man, and within hours and even minute sometimes, of seeing and working alongside him, in which Jane took the chance to discuss the more personal aspects of the case. When he played his silly mind games and "reads her mind" and makes her blush, she cannot help but succumb to his romantic charm, whether she wanted to or not.
She saw him begin to turn his head, so she took advantage of her years of reflexive training and snapped hers back to the window, and tried to look pondering, as if she had been facing that way the whole time - just turning around feeling his gaze upon her back.
"Lisbon?"
"Yes, Jane?" Teresa was wary of what he was going to ask next, because his tone of voice was usually the one which he used when asking people personal or inappropriate questions.
"What would you do if I kissed you?" She spluttered, completely shocked. Whatever she thought he was going to ask, it was not this.
"I beg your pardon?"
"If I kissed you, what would you do? How would you react?" He asked, as if this was a normal thing to ask your boss.
"That's inappropriate. And irrelevant for that matter." his smile widened, and he looked somewhat like the proverbial cat which had caught the canary.
"It's not really inappropriate because in all fairness I was using the conditional tense."
"Is it relevant?"
"No, but I am curious. Don't worry, I asked Rigsby the same question." he said, playfully.
"I would stop you and tell you that we are co-workers, and nothing more. Then we would forget that it had ever happened." While before, Patrick was mildly curious about how his employer would react to his personal question, now he became intrigued.
"You're lying! You would kiss me back!"
"I would do nothing of the sort!"
"Well first of all, if you are going to lie, at least do it properly."
"I'm not lying!" he did not retort again, just cocked his head to one side and regarded me curiously.
"Well there is only one real way to find out, isn't there?"
"What brought that question on any-what?" He leant across the gearbox and pressed his lips to hers, inviting and boisterous. Teresa knew that she should stop him, but this was something she had spent several lonely and unfulfilling nights thinking about. Mind you, if she kissed back, then all she would be doing is messing up one of Patrick Jane's infamous experiments. She did not have to be a rocket scientist to know that he was trying to screw with her. Metaphorically, of course.
She broke off, speechless and extremely flustered.
"Uh- Jane!" was all she could manage. His smile had faded to a mere curve, and he was watching Teresa carefully, so all she wanted was to shrink into her seat. "I have good reason to report you for sexual harassment!" Jane's smile was back.
"But you're not going to." he shifted his weight in his seat. "Not only did you enjoy that, you tend to spend a lot of time trying to put a dent in the lawsuits against me. You're not about to waste your own time in holding this against me."
"I don't spend that much time shifting your lawsuits around."
"So you admit that you enjoyed it?"
"What? No, of course not!" he crushed his mouth against hers again, and curled his hand around the back of her neck softly, so it was only a slight feeling. She found herself responding before she let herself think. She may have leaned into him and moaned slightly, but that did not prove his point.
"Just proving my point." Patrick said, leaning back again and looking smug. 'Damn.' she thought.
"You are so arrogant!"
"Why yes, but I have reason to be, do I not?" She felt like shooting him. If she went for her gun now, there was no way that he could stop her.
She opened her mouth to respond, but instead she felt a strange sensation against her side. Jane laughed aloud.
"Lisbon, you're vibrating." She glared at him, and scoffed at his immaturity, mad at herself for not coming up with a retort for his last comment.
"Lisbon." She answered her cell phone. It was Cho. A case. Get Jane. Office. Right now. Sure thing. Disconnect. It had stopped raining. "Jane we need to go."
"Fair enough. I asked my question, and got my answer." He smiled, and bounded out of the car and through the puddles, with a gleeful look on his face, which looked younger in the newfound sunshine. He left her in the dark on what his answer may have been.
