AN-Yep. I'm back after a really long absence. I'm stalled on my novel, this is a great break. I'm looking for reviews. Kinda scary that it's the first Mentalist fanfic here.

Thank you CBS-you have the rights, I'm just playing in the sandbox.

Chapter 1

The file sat in front of Agent Lisbon, tempting her to call Patrick Jane and ask him for help. It was something that he was not used to, her asking for help, he usually put himself underfoot when she was trying to desperately get him to focus on the case, but share his information.

She had worked with him only a short time; they had mentioned the psychic thing a few times, but never in major detail. It was part of trying to get to know him, after what she had read about him and the "Red John" case, one day he was a well known psychic, the next day he wasn't. He was still a huge puzzle.

This would be the perfect case to annoy him; a psychic with a death threat. She was pretty reputable though, an Irish woman who had a 98 accuracy rate that she never really publicized. Lisbon had heard of her, Jane mentioned her during a rant about how all of it wasn't real. From everything she had read, O'Mara was the real deal.

Her name was Katherine O'Mara. She preferred to be called Kate. She was coming to LA for a conference on psychic phenomenon. Jane had scoffed at the thought of it, calling them a bunch of fakers.

Part of her was dying to put him in a room with a bunch of psychics. They would probably him right out of the room. He wasn't the real deal, but something would just work with this, she felt it. It was in her gut.

This was too tempting. She picked up the phone and dialed. He picked up on the first ring.

Green eyes were reflected in the plane's window. Kate O'Mara yawned and stretched in her seat, untangling her I pod from the mess the 14-hour plane trip had caused. She had slept part of the way, her music collection helping her sleep.

Dublin to LA was never an easy trip and her system couldn't tell you what time it was. She reset her watch. It tended to die when she was working. It would be easier to read the phone she would have soon. Her agent was good about that.

Looking around she tried to stay out of the frenzy that a plane unloading always seemed to cause. Her agent, Liam had been angry about her traveling alone, but she preferred it. It enabled her to just look like Kate O'Mara, psychic, but without an entourage, she was just another Irish traveler. It was one of the rare freedoms she still had. The more press she did, the worse it became. It brought fame and stalkers.

After gathering her bags and heading out of the plane, she hoped to get lost in the crowd. As if by instinct, after clearing customs, she turned around.

Someone was waiting for her. He was tall, had kind looking eyes and a typical surfer face, lined by sun streaked blond hair. Two men were behind him, one asian and one looking like a football player. They screamed cop.

'Damn my agent' she thought to herself as she walked toward the baggage carousel. He followed her, the others staying at a close distance.

Kate stood there for a second. She knew the bags would be there shortly, but wanted her independence for a few minutes more. Walking over to him, she smiled.

"If you're here for my bags" she started

"It would be the green one and not very large," he interrupted, "But I'm not here for your bags. You figured me out pretty fast."

She put out her hand.

"Katherine O'Mara," Kate said, "I suppose my agent sent you. You look like either a cop or a security agent."

He took her hand. She hid the shudder that usually came from shaking someone's hand. Being sensitive to the world was one thing, having the emotions of someone so close hit you like a wrecking ball is another. Being gifted like she was, it was hard to have someone touch you if you weren't ready. His handshake felt bad to her, hard to place and took a few seconds to filter.

"Hardly," he smiled, "I'm Patrick Jane. The California Bureau of Investigation sent me to accompany you to the conference."

Kate smiled. Patrick Jane. A man with two first names, one male and one female. The police sent her a skeptic. Great.

"I don't need any company," the reply was short.

"You do," he replied, "you don't realize that you were followed, do you?"

His reply was somewhere between annoying and condescending. He didn't want to be there as much as she did.

"Followed? Hardly," she replied, grabbing her bag from the carousel, "I checked several times on the plane."

"When you weren't sleeping?" Jane interrupted, taking the bag from her, "Please, Ms OMara, I do believe you're in danger."

"Why?" she asked, taking the bag back from him, "You haven't given me a good enough reason."

She began to walk away from him, toward the doors of the airport that lead out to the terminal. He followed her quickly, taking her elbow to stop her.

"There was one of your stalkers on the plane, your agent sent us the info," Patrick continued, "He wants you to be safe at this conference."

"I am safe," she replied, her green eyes meeting his blue ones, "Please let go."

He let go.

"You can take me there, but I really don't want you hanging around, Mr. Jane," she said, "I don't think the attendees at this conference will want you there either."

"They're just going to have to deal with it," Jane replied, "I'm here to keep an eye on you."