'Till Death Do Us Part

Summary: Someone's out to get Lisbon. So why won't so go to the CBI? Jisbon, crossover with Numb3rs

A/N 1: Three reasons I'm writing this. First, is it just coincidence that both the Mentalist AND Numb3rs are set in the same state? It was bugging the hell out of me, so I had to write it. Second, I've never written a crossover, so I wanted to try it. Last, I haven't written anything in a while, and my mind's on the Mentalist and Numb3rs right now, so I figured it would work. Enjoy! Sorry the chapter's so short.

A/N #2: The story's set around Halloween time. I'm not sure why. It just seemed like a good way to introduce the story. You shouldn't have to know much about Numb3rs for this one. Everything will be explained.

Disclaimer: I do not own either the Mentalist or Numb3rs. Both belong to CBS. No copyright infringement intended. I DO, however, own Mac Brownfield. Mine. Don't touch.


Chapter 1: Of Tricks and Treats

There were too many kids in the building for their own good, Lisbon decided, laying down on her couch and trying to catch some z's before the next one arrived with their obnoxious parents trailing behind.

Halloween was one of Lisbon's least favorite holidays. Fate seemed to be out to get her around this time. She was always rushing to get cases done so that when Halloween finally rolled around, she wasn't half-asleep as she passed out candy.

One might ask why she didn't simply leave the door closed, or put up a sign that said, "Out of Town," or something like that. The truth was, as much as she hated passing out candy, she couldn't bring herself to turn down those (too) happy faces and watch their (too happy) smiles turn into frowns.

She was just beginning to doze off when there was a knock on the door. Great, she thought. Another one.

Climbing to her feet and grabbing the basket of candy off the counter, she groggily stumbled her way over to the door and opened it.

She was greeted with a loud "Trick or treat!" from a young girl dressed in a ballerina costume.

Lisbon tried to plaster a happy smile to her face and shoved some of the Cheap-O brand candy into the girl's bag.

"Thank you, ma'am," the girl said, smiling brightly. Then she danced away, tutu bouncing up and down.

Lisbon was about to slam the door shut when another voice spoke.

"You look tired," said the girl's father, sounding sympathetic.

Lisbon glanced up at his face. It was Mac Brownfield, who lived three apartments down. He was (apparently) a surfer, as was obvious by his tan skin and sun bleached blonde hair.

"Yeah, I guess," Lisbon said shrugging. Go away. Go away. Go away...

Mac smiled. "I know the feeling. Sometimes work just takes it out of you, huh?"

What do you know about work? You surf for a living. "Yeah, I guess."

The man nodded. "Sorry to have disturbed you. You were probably trying to sleep."

Get out of my doorway. "Yeah, I guess."

Mac shrugged. "Maybe I could take you out for dinner some time."

GO AWAY. "Yeah, I–" Wait, what?!

"Uh..." Lisbon stared at him in dumbfounded amazement.

Mac nodded. "Great," he said, obviously trying to contain his excitement. "Tomorrow? Pick you up at six?"

Dear God, why must I have tomorrow off? "Uh..."

His face lit up. "Awesome. See you then."

"Daaa-dy!" yelled his daughter, stomping her foot. Her tutu quivered. "Let's go! I'm supposed to trick-or-treat at Mommy's house too!"

"Coming, sweetie," Mac called. He turned back to Lisbon. "See you tomorrow." Then he left, trailing after his daughter.

Lisbon slammed the door shut and groaned. Oh God, what have I done?

Suddenly there was another knock on the door. Oh, come ON.


"Here you go," Alan Eppes said, passing out candy to each of the four kids standing on the doorstep.

"Thank you Mr. Eppes," said one of the girls shyly.

"Not a problem, sweetie." Alan smiled.

The girl blushed, and then her parents ushered she and the other three kids away from the doorstep.

As the kids were rounding the sidewalk to the next house, a large black Suburban with government plates pulled into the driveway. Standing up from his chair out on the front step, Alan waved as his son, Don, climbed out.

"Donnie!" he called.

"Lots of kids out this year," Don observed. He walked up to the front door, carrying a case of beer. "Brought some beer."

A curly head appeared at Alan's side. It was his other son, Charlie, the genius mathematician. "It's about time," Charlie said. "Come on in."

Don headed inside. "Hey, sorry Chuck. I got stuck in traffic on the way back from work."

"Don't call me Chuck!"

Suddenly Don's phone rang. Charlie visibly drooped, obviously hoping to have been able to spend some time with his brother.

"Eppes," Don answered. "Yeah David." He sighed and glanced down at his watch. "Okay. Be there in ten. Don't let anyone in. See you there." He hung up and sighed. "Sorry Chuck. Gotta go. Someone just found a dead body in their house. See ya."

A/N: Again, sorry the Author's Note's so long and the chapter's so short. The next one will be longer. Review and tell me what you think!

Off to take over the world,

Crazy Girl