Mentalist is not mine. And its my first fic sorry!
Mother's day had come around again and how could it be forgotten, pink balloons with pictures of smiling mothers and their children. A familiar tugging pulled at his heart the same as when the birthdays of his dead wife and daughter came around. Jane was leaning back against his couch with his eyes shut listening to the quiet whisperings of Van Pelt and Rigsby about their plans for the next day. Everyone had the day off and Van Pelt was using this to go see her mum and Rigsby was going to meet up with his parents at a quiet restaurant for dinner.
He opened his eyes and looked at Van Pelt grinning at Rigsby, her cheeks a light pink, while Rigsby sat backwards on a chair across from her desk. They didn't realize but from a distance you could see them leaning towards each other slightly, never breaking eye contact unless for a quick glance at each others lips then just as quickly look up. If the feeling of dread hadn't been on his mind he would have made a sly remark about them but instead let a sad smile play on his lips for the love that he saw. Turning his body to lie down he slightly let himself fall into a light sleep.
The dream was vivid; he was in an unfamiliar garden but it felt comfortable like his house before the murder. A small girl who looked about four smiled and waved at him from a swing set in the corner of the garden. Slowly he walked up to her. She was a mirror image of his daughter apart from one major difference instead of sparkling blue her eyes were a bright emerald green. The girl smiled a small grin then nodded gently. Jane's eyes shot open as he felt a slight pressure on his shoulder. The same green eyes were looking at him with concern in them.
"Jane? Are you okay? You looked like you were confused or frowning but I need help with filling out the paper work from the last case." Libson was leaning over him her hair falling around her face. He smiled slightly then let out a bright grin.
"I'm fine, in fact I'm great."
Libson stood up straight taken aback by his response. She thought this was a hard time for him too.
"Good because I need help with paper work." She replied never missing a beat. He jumped up from each couch and thought it seemed like the dream was a nudge by his wife that he had mourned enough and should start to move on. Watching as Libson walked away he felt the tug at his heart for Libson having to go through Mother's day alone the next day but also a new tugging that seemed protective. He realized he hadn't let himself feel it since his wife It also dawned on him that he liked Libson, Teresa, a lot.
Well, he thought to himself as he followed Libson, this will be interesting.