Just a short one shot I thought of while I was listening to The Black Keys album Brother. It's a great CD and a most of the songs on it remind me in one way or another of the characters on my favorite show.
Disclaimer: The Mentalist, The Black Keys and their song lyrics aren't mine I'm just borrowing them for my and hopefully your entertainment.
He sat at his desk trying to concentrate on the case paper work in front of him but she kept distracting him. It wasn't intentional, she wasn't trying to, couldn't help it. It wasn't her fault her hair was the color of sunlight shining through fine wine or that the little sighs of frustration she made while working were the same as the ones she made in bed when she was first waking up.
She didn't know that every time she tossed her hair over her shoulder her scent drifted towards him, so clean and sweet like spring time or sun shine and apples, or what that smell did to him. What it made him remember. So he tried to think of other things, other women.
Oh my next girl will be nothing like my ex-girl.
I made mistakes back then; I'll never do it again.
There was Amber the petite but curvy blonde from last week. She was blue eyed and had looks like a porcelain doll but she cursed like a sailor. Her perfume wasn't sweet it was seductive like night blooming jasmine and for the few hours she had occupied his body he'd been able to stop the thoughts of the red head that constantly occupied his mind.
My next girl she'll be nothing like my ex-girl.
It was a painful dance now I've got a second chance.
This week it was Vanessa, a slender hazel eyed brunette. She was a short haired pixie that moved like a dancer and smelled of freesia. She was a yoga instructor and he wondered if she was as flexible as her profession implied.
A beautiful face and a wicked way and I'm paying for her beautiful face every day.
All that work over so much time if I, if I think to hard I might lose my mind.
For next week he thought the woman he'd seen at his gym would do. He didn't know her name yet, It didn't matter. She had the height he liked in a woman, a smooth toned build. A swimmer's body. But most important she was different. Her hair was long but it was dark, the color of midnight on a moonless night, and it was curly. Her eyes are grey and her skin a golden brown. If she wasn't game then there were many others. Beautiful faces, beautiful distractions. As long as they were different, as long as they weren't like her, no sweet faced, brown eyed, red heads. Then it didn't matter what they looked like or who they were.
Oh my next girl will be nothing like my ex-girl.
