Hello, people! Ah, you have no idea how much I've missed writing Fan Fiction. I missed thinking 'How would Lisbon react to this situation?', etc. It has been far too long for my liking. I have actually been writing another story for FF, but I'm not sure I like it enough to publish it. But last night I had a dream about the Mentalist (don't judge) and I woke up to frantically write it down in my notebook. I edited and twisted the idea a bit until I came up with this. So here I am, finally writing again. Please forgive any errors of any kind – I've only been awake for ten minutes and I am guzzling coffee to try and wake up. I'm not a morning person, but for Fan Fiction... I can make an exception. :)

By the way: This Fic is set around halfway through the Second Season, a few months after Bosco's death. (Speaking of seasons... The Season 3 finale was a freaking cracker, right? I swear I said 'OMG' about fifty thousand times. Message me if you want to discuss it, I love hearing other people's theories!)

Hope you enjoy!

Ashlee-Rose :)

Disclaimer: The Mentalist belongs to Bruno Heller (clever guy) and CBS, but this storyline was created by my subconcious. :D (Oh, and sorry my intro thingys are always boringly long.)

1. An Unforgettable Night

Teresa

The Annual CBI Sponsors Ball. Teresa Lisbon shuddered at the thought as she rumaged through her wardrobe for her single formal dress. Every year she had to endure the same factors: talking to hundreds of sponsors about the work she did, wearing uncomfortable shoes, and listening to bad music. But at least she hadn't had to worry about keeping an eye on Patrick Jane in the previous years. He had always managed to squirm his way out of it in that clever way of his. But this year one of the sponsors had requested he be there, and he couldn't avoid it. Teresa smirked, picturing Jane being asked hundreds of stupid questions. Actually, she thought, actually snickering aloud now, he might enjoy it, attention seeker that he is.

She quickly slipped into her emerald silk dress, and shoved pieces of jewellery on absentmindedly. A ring, a bracelet. She didn't really care. All she wanted was for the night to be over.

She brushed on some rarely-used makeup, actually enjoying herself for a moment in the face-transforming process. When she had finished, her green eyes were glowing, and her skin had a light rosy flush. She twisted her hair back, starting to feel glum again, and already tired of it all.

She was sitting on her sofa, contemplating pulling out some hard liquor when her cellphone rang. She pounced on it, eager for something to take her mind off the rapidly approaching ball.

"Lisbon." She answered on the second ring.

"Hello, m'dear. Are you ready for a night of frivolous fun?" Teresa rolled her eyes, sitting back on the sofa. But she was secretly glad to hear a friendly voice, even if it was her shit-stirring consultant. "Jane, you do realise this is going to be far from fun, right? Trust me. I've been to four of these things." She heard a soft chuckle from the other line.

"Oh, Lisbon, you are such a party pooper. Come on, it'll be fun." Teresa scoffed, preparing to argue, but he interrupted her with a 'you're-being-a-misbehaving-child' manner. (Which was rich coming from him, the thirty-something year old who could turn into a five year old at will.)

"Tell you what, if you get really bored and want to leave, I'll sneak you out. Okay?" Teresa couldn't help but smile. She knew he wasn't joking. "I'm going to be at your house in ten minutes. Be ready! It's going to be a fun night." And the line went dead.

Teresa groaned. She had almost forgotten Jane was picking her up. Her normally trustworthy car had decided to have a hissy fit that morning. She couldn't believe the brilliant timing. When she'd rung to cheerfully announce she couldn't go, Jane had offered to take her, wiping the smile right off her face again.

Ten minutes passed quickly, and there was a knock at the door. Teresa picked up her small silver bag and, sighing, opened the door. She wanted to get this over with as quickly as possible.

Jane was smiling at her from the doorway. Teresa noticed he was wearing a well-fitting black suit, and an actual bowtie. He looked... good. She mentally shook herself, putting a slight smile on her face. Jane's eyes swept up and down her green gown, and paused on her eyes. She felt a little self-concious under his gaze, but held her chin high.

"Lisbon, you look lovely." His face turned serious, eyes gazing sincerely into Teresa's. She couldn't help the light flush that started at her neck, although she tried to ignore it. "Thanks, Jane, you don't look too bad yourself." He extended a hand, back to normal Jane behaviour, with eyes twinkling mischieviously. Teresa tried not to smile and failed. "Shall we?" He asked in an over-the-top way. She rolled her eyes and stepped out the door, ignoring the mocking extended hand.

"Let's just get this over with already."

Teresa leaned against a cold railing, looking out over the calm water. She sighed in relief at the sudden quiet that surrounded her. She had survived the first course of the meal, and was now... well, she wouldn't say hiding, but technically, that was exactly what she was doing. After the entree, (in which Jane managed to insult his first person of the night, and Van Pelt entered late in a form-fitting dress, causing Rigsby to choke on his soup) Teresa had slipped out to find somewhere alone. She was already fed-up with posh people and their stupid questions. After wandering through a few empty rooms in the huge sea-side hotel, she had discovered a stunning balcony.

Nobody will find me here, she thought triumphantly. But then... the sound of footsteps and a familiar contented sigh. Teresa sighed too. She had been stupid to think for one second that Jane wouldn't find her. It was kind of his thing.

"What a gorgeous view," Teresa turned to see Jane leaning against the doorframe, two glasses filled with bubbling, pale-pink liquid in his hands. "I thought you might be in need of some alcohol to make it through the rest of the night. I've seen you struggling to not pull your gun on one of those snobby sponsors already. And don't try to tell me you didn't bring it," He added with a smirk as she opened her mouth to argue.

"I know it's in that strangely bulky little bag of yours. You're a cop. It's your instinct." He smiled as he handed her one of the glasses. Teresa stared at him for a moment before just shaking her head and accepting the champagne. She took a small sip, feeling the sweet, prickly little bubbles make their way down her throat. Jane came to lean against the rail beside her, closing his eyes to the light ocean breeze.

Teresa smiled slightly as she glanced at his serene face. His skin looked orange in the light of the setting sun, and his pale eyelashes cast thin shadows over his cheekbones. His dark blonde hair ruffled in the gentle wind, making his smile widen like a child's, though his eyes stayed shut.

Something twisted in her stomach, and she looked away, glad Jane's eyes were closed. She was always slightly surprised to feel the rushes of attraction for him, but they came quite frequently at the most unexpected moments. She detested them, and the way they made her feel out of control. Teresa cleared her throat, pushing it from her mind, and looked back at him, lips curving upwards.

"So, tell me the truth, Jane. How many of these sponsors do you plan to insult tonight?" She asked in a sarcastic tone. He tilted his head towards her, like a curious child, but didn't open his eyes as he spoke.

"Lisbon, I don't really insult them. I just tell them what I see, and if they don't like it, it means I'm dead right." A smile was playing on his features. "For example, I may have called that Mrs. Halloway woman a money-obsessed old goat, but the fact she took offense made it all the more true."

Teresa shook her head scoldingly, but she couldn't help but grin. What a typical Jane excuse.

"Isn't it a nice night, though?" Jane opened his eyes, gazing out at the horizon. "It's just stunning." He turned to face her, expression serious again, taking her off guard. His face was intense, and the fact he was no longer smiling made him seem even more so. The dreaded rush of attraction returned, making her want to look away, but she found that she couldn't. "Stunning," He repeated softly, crystal eyes intently gazing into hers. Teresa opened her mouth, not sure what to say. But before she even had the chance to think of something, a familiar sound broke the silence. It was muffled, but quite distinctive. The soft click of a silenced gun.

The cop in Teresa immediately took over. Tearing her eyes away from Jane's, she glanced around, hand automatically flying to her hip. The silky fabric there confused her for a moment before she realised her gun was in her bag.

"Did you hear that?" She asked, pulling her pistol out of the small bag and cocking it.

"Yes, I'm pretty sure that was a gun. I knew you had your gun on you, by the way." Ignoring him, Teresa looked around all the balconies around them. "It seemed to come from below us..." Jane peeked over the edge of the railing. "Uh, yes, Lisbon! Yep, there he is!" He pointed downwards, stepping over to her. Peering down, she could see straight down onto the lower balcony. A man lay on the tile, a bullet wound in his chest, scarlet blood painting a circle around him.

Patrick

Patrick was always amazed at how quickly Lisbon could go from the sarcastic and slightly flirty woman he liked to share company with, to the hard-ass cop who sometimes scared the heck out of him. It was like she could go from one personality to the other with the snap of your fingers. It should be her party trick, he thought half-seriously as he watched her whip her CBI badge out of that tiny bag. She buckled her gun holster around her silk-covered hips, the formal dress paired with the cop garb making her look like a Charlie's Angel, or a Bond girl. Patrick mentally shook himself.

"The victim is James White." Lisbon announced to the rest of the team. Her voice wavered slightly, which, of course, Patrick noticed straight away. Lisbon's authoritive-voice never wavered. Well, until now.

"How do you know him?" Patrick stepped to her side, slightly concerned that something was wrong with her. He had only seen her upset a few times, and it was unnerving. He resisted the urge to comfort her, as he knew she hated to look weak in any way.

"I used to work with him, along with... Sam, in the San Francisco Police Department. Us three were a team." Patrick nodded, choosing to avoid the topic of the recently murdered Samuel Bosco. That was a bit of a touchy subject for Lisbon, especially since he had confessed his love for her just five minutes prior to his death.

"Ah, so this guy is a cop too. Interesting..." Patrick walked around the body, looking for clues that the others might have missed. Cho sighed from behind him, shaking his head slowly.

"He was due to join the Missing Persons team next week, and then he probably would have joined forces with us. That's why he was here tonight. His death is a huge loss for the CBI... This guy is legendary..." Cho paused and glanced at Lisbon, obviously noticing her distress as well.

"Cho, go downstairs to meet the hotel manager. I want a list of every person in this building tonight. CBI, hotel staff, guests, anyone who has entered this hotel within the past twenty-four hours." Lisbon was in business mode, her fail-proof cover up for being upset. "Rigsby, contact the San Fransisco PD, find out if White had any prominent enemies, anyone in particular who may have wanted him dead. Van Pelt, search his background. Check relationships, family-feuds, the usual suspects." She looked around at her team. "Okay?"

The team murmured their assent before rushing off to do their various tasks. Patrick wandered over to Lisbon, now standing alone, staring into space. He frowned at the look on her face. It was almost... fearful. Lisbon, scared? It just isn't right.

"Hey," Patrick said softly, prodding her gently in the arm. "Are you okay?" She didn't seem normal. He casually took hold of her wrist, instantly recognising the tell-tale thud of fear in her pulse. Her eyes flickered up to his as she feebly pulled from his grasp, and then her gaze was back on the carpet.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just a little shocked. I knew this guy, you know? It just doesn't seem real." I know how that feels, Patrick thought to himself with dark humor. She stared at the floor for another moment before shaking her head, eyes focusing again on his. "Did you find anything?" Patrick frowned at her transparent attempt to change the subject, but played along anyway.

"Well, whoever the killer was, he knew what he was doing." He pointed at the broken lock. "That door was not just broken into. A proper lock-picking device was used, one that locksmiths use. See?" He indicated the small indents in the doorjam. "Whoever wanted White dead planned ahead. They knew he would be here tonight, and got their hands on a lock-picker especially for this task."

Lisbon nodded, writing something in her small notebook. Patrick saw her hands trembling, and gritted his teeth. Tremble? Teresa Lisbon? Okay, that's it. He grabbed her wrist, pulling her out of earshot of the coroners and other officers.

"Jane," She protested weakly. Patrick ignored her, pulling her into an empty hall closet. He shut the door, flicked on the light, and turned her to face him.

"Okay, tell me what the connection is between something bad in your past and White. And if you don't tell me, I'm going to have to hypnotise you into telling me. Don't think I'm bluffing." Lisbon's eyes narrowed, and her nostrils flared slightly, signs that she was irritated. Which meant Patrick was right. There was a connection.

He raised his eyebrows at her. She sighed, suddenly looking small and tired, and sat down on a large empty crate. Patrick lowered himself next to her, his thigh lightly pressing against hers. Lisbon fiddled with her badge for a moment before speaking. "Back when I worked at the SFPD ten years ago, James, Sam and I were a team. Although we were just fresh out of college, we were some of the most reliable rookie agents. We worked well together, and always managed to pull things off perfectly. But then we got a case that wasn't going well." She paused, taking a small, sharp breath, then continued.

"Two fourteen year old girls were murdered, and we knew exactly who did it. William Kalmer." Her voice was bitter as she said his name, and her fingers curled into angry fists.

"We thought we had him pinned, but then the court announced we didn't have enough valid evidence to put him away for murder." Another pause. "For two years, we worked that case." She slapped her badge impatiently, but then went back to fiddling with it. "But we couldn't find any proof. Another two teenage girls were killed, in the same neighbourhood as the last two. Again, we knew it was him, but we couldn't charge him for it. There was just no evidence. This guy... he was smart, Jane. I mean, really smart. Nothing we did made any difference, and... Innocent girls were dying because of it!" Patrick heard the frustration filling her voice. He decided to cut in.

"So Bosco killed him, didn't he? That is the leverage you had when you got him to let me out of jail a few months ago." Patrick was satisfied he was correct when Lisbon ignored him. "Everything makes sense now. So... Then what?" Lisbon looked up at him, her clear green eyes finally meeting his.

"We swore to keep it a secret. But..." She trailed off, looking away.

"Someone else must have known." Patrick finished, his heart filling with dread, although he couldn't pinpoint why. "Someone who was close to Kalmer. And that is who you believe killed White, out of revenge." She nodded. Her normally large eyes were now huge, magnified by unshed tears. Patrick felt a wave of pity for Lisbon. "Who else knew, Lisbon?" The makeup-tinted tears finally began to fall from her eyes.

"I have no idea. Bosco told me that he saw someone watching him as he left Kalmer's house. But nobody ever turned him in for the murder, so we just figured it was a random person on the street. Now I'm not so sure." She looked up at the roof, taking deep breaths to try and push the tears back to where they came from. Patrick knew she was paranoid about showing weakness to most people.

"But if this happened, years ago... Why kill him now?" Patrick mused out loud. Lisbon simply shrugged, still trying to stop crying. Patrick glanced back at her scared face.

"Look," He touched her shoulder gently. "We'll find who did this. We will." Lisbon looked up at him, streaks of tears down her cheeks. Patrick had to restrain himself from reaching out to her and wiping her cheeks dry. Wiping all her fears away.

"Jane." Her voice was cold and scared. "Think about it. Bosco is out of the picture, already killed by Red John. Now White has been murdered." Patrick suddenly clicked, taking longer than usual to figure it out. Or maybe his brain simply hadn't wanted to think it. No, he thought, ice filling his chest.

"Jane, I'm the only one of the team left." Her eyes raised to meet his, speaking his very thoughts with an air of shocked terror. "I'm next."

Wow, sorry, that ending was very cliched. "I'm next." How many times has that been said over the years? But anyway... Please review, the next chapter will be up very soon! :)

- Ashlee-Rose :)