Hello people! Thanks for choosing to read my Fan Fiction, that means a lot. And I hope you enjoy this story. It took me an hour to write this first chapter, and this is only my second FanFic ever, so keep that in mind. Please leave reviews! I don't mind constructive critisism, but don't be too harsh. This is only my second FanFic! I hope you enjoy. :) - Ashlee-Rose

Disclaimer: Well, of course I don't own the Mentalist. I only wish I did. But I do own this story.

Prologue

Lisbon's POV

The first thing Teresa Lisbon noticed as she cracked open her eyes, was that her head was pounding so hard, she could barely see. It felt as though someone was steadily beating a bass drum inside her brain, breaking it into tiny pieces. Her mouth was dry as wool, and tasted revolting, and her stomach was roiling and churning.

"Ugh..." She groaned, tightly shutting her eyes again and rolling over to reach for her cell phone on her side table. Her side table? She groped at thin air.

What the hell? Where is my freaking table? She thought, confused.

Finally, Teresa opened her eyes, wincing. The sunlight flooding the room made her head hurt even more, and she groaned again. But then she froze.

She wasn't in her room. She wasn't even in her own house. She stared around herself, taking in the plain furnishings. Just a bed, a dresser, and a closet.

Despite the steady throbbing of her head, Teresa's cop instincts kicked in. She strained her mind to remember what had happened the night before, but nothing came to mind. All she could recall was leaving work at around six, much earlier than usual, because she had to go somewhere... somewhere she couldn't remember.

Hesitantly, Teresa slipped out of the bed. As she had expected, her legs wobbled beneath her, and her head throbbed extra painfully. Looking down at herself, she was surprised to see she was wearing her own 'Lisbon' football jersey, the same one she wore to bed every night. What the hell?

Teeth clenched, she stumbled over to the door, pulled it open, and began tiptoeing down the stairs. Well, tiptoeing as much as possible with the limited control she had over her legs. She didn't know why, but she had the instinct to be as quiet as possible.

Of course, as soon as her foot touched the last stair, she tripped, sprawling over the carpet in a very ungraceful manner.

"Morning, Lisbon. Oh, are you okay?" A cheerful-yet-concerned, horribly familiar voice chirped from above Teresa's head.

Oh, please say this is just an awful nightmare... Her brain thought frantically, no longer the cool, calm inward-voice it usually was. Horrified, she scrambled to her feet, ignoring the painful twinge of her head.

Her perky, arrogant, and just plain irritating consultant, Patrick Jane, was smiling at her, extending a large hand. His hair was still ruffled from sleep, and he didn't seem fully alert yet. Oh, god. Teresa's eyes almost popped out of her head.

"Jane?" She screeched in disbelief, quickly yanking the hem of her jersey down, which had flown up during her fall. She didn't know what else to say. Had she... stayed the night with Patrick Jane? What the hell had happened last night? Teresa grabbed her forehead, feeling completely like she was about to have a breakdown.

He frowned in concern, touching her shoulder. "Are you alright? Do you want some Tylenol?" He held out two pills and a glass of water temptingly, eyes sparkling with barely concealed delight. Why the hell is he so happy? And what happened last night? Teresa's brain was screaming the same thing over and over.

Jane offered the pills again, looking slightly more concerned now. "Ah, Lisbon? Take them."

But Teresa glared around herself, ignoring him, looking for her off-duty weapon and badge. "Dammit, Jane! If you don't tell me exactly what is going on, right this second, I swear I am going to shoot you. And I'll shoot to kill." She spotted her badge and gun, sitting on top of a folded green silk dress. A dress she recognised very well.

Sinking into the nearest chair, Teresa stared at the dress, anger forgotten. She remembered buying the dress the week before, spending half of her paycheck on that one tube of fabric. She had bought it specifically for her date. The date with...

"Walter Mashburn." Teresa muttered, more confused than ever. She and Walter had been on a few dates over the past few months. But that didn't explain what she was doing in Jane's house.

"You really don't remember? Anything?" Jane sat beside her, his brow furrowed. She shook her head impatiently, ignoring the pain, wondering when he was going to tell her. He was silent for a moment. Teresa sighed in frustration, tapping her toe on the chair impatiently.

"Well, what happened? Now would be good!" Teresa glared at Jane, finally snatching the Tylenol and water from his hands. Does he consider it a day wasted if he doesn't piss me off at least once? She wondered, irritated, as she swallowed the water and Tylenol. He waited until she had thrown the pills back, and then smiled in that slightly mocking way of his.

"Hmm. It all started late last night. Our hero Patrick Jane was trying to get some sleep..." Jane started jokingly, chuckling at the look on Teresa's face.

She was not amused.

Hmm. What do you think happened? And more importantly, did Lisbon really spend the night with Jane? All will be revealed. Stay tuned! :) Review please!