The Mentalist – Are you listening, dear?
Summary
An intruder in Lisbon's apartment. Riddles. Murder. Green-blue eyes boring into green ones. What is it that you wish for most?
Disclaimer
If it was mine, I'd have "Blonde Consultant" on my menu on a regular basis.
Rating solid T for language and romantic scenes, and more. Please let me know if rating should be changed.
Category Romance
A/N: This is a story I dreamt of last night. It didn't leave me alone, so here it is.
First time for a TM story, so please be gentle.
It isn't beta'ed, so all mistakes are mine.
WARNING: I couldn't resist adding some water to the wine, or rather arsenic. If you prefer pure fluff, stop reading at the end of chapter 1.
If you're ready for some cruel ending which you may resent (and throw tomatoes at me for), go on.
You have been warned.
Teresa Lisbon was tired to the bone. Exhausted, would be a better way to describe it. It was 2 a.m. on Saturday morning, and she had just returned home from work, the weekend finally having arrived.
She locked her front door, tossed her keys on the little console next to her door, and was just about to fling her jacket and boots aside, when an unfamiliar movement in her apartment alerted her cop senses.
In a blink, she drew her weapon, and pointed it towards the figure now emerging from the darkness. "FREEZE!" She shouted, gun drawn, finger at the trigger.
The other person in her apartment jumped, and a very familiar voice she'd have recognized in a million others, held up his hands, and said in exasperation: "Hold your gun, woman. It's me!"
"Jane! You jackass! Are you fucking insane? I could have shot you!" Lisbon angrily snapped at her wayward consultant, wanting to rip his head off for intruding into her apartment, and having the *nerve* to chastise her for the ability to defend herself. Flicking the lights on, she felt the adrenaline in her blood to pump her heart at an impossible rate. (Now way this had anything to do with the presence of a certain male colleague/friend/whatever at 2 a.m. in her apartment, looking positively delicious. No, none whatsoever.)
Jane's smile was all too familiar, and Teresa's heart made a curious lurch. Two weeks of absence, and her every fiber wanted to fling herself into his arms, assuring herself of his presence.
But no.
She bravely ignored it. Her nerves were only betraying her - must be the tiredness.
Jane's voice was warm, albeit teasing. "Language, Teresa. And before you chew my head off, my dear, check your phone. I *had* announced that I'd come to visit. You didn't think to turn your phone back on after your meeting with Bertram, did you?"
Teresa hadn't, in fact, but she'd rather swallow her tongue than to admit it, least of all to him. "Jane, I'm tired." She tried to deflect. "You've decided to show up again after two weeks of absence, after all that's happened after our shooting of Red John, the paperwork, the media coverage, well – all of it in fact. I got your texts, knowing you're all right, … and – " She lost steam somehow, looking into his gorgeous blue-green eyes, now with a slight disappointed shining in it. "And I'm glad to see you", she added lamely, softening her harsh tone. "So please make it quick. What do you want?"
"You." He said softly, a small smile on his lips.
Teresa gaped at him, open-mouthed, and needed a second to decipher what he was up to. Screening his handsome features, she saw the glint in his eyes, and interpreted it to her best knowledge.
"Oh, I get it. This is another one of your crazy schemes, right? OK, listen, Jane. I'm up since 6 a.m. this morning, and I just got back from a tedious meeting - which you'd have known, by the way, had you bothered to return my calls, instead of just brooding alone in Malibu - and all I want now is to go upstairs, crawl into bed, and not leave it until Monday morning."
"Sounds good." Jane replied, unfazed. "Let's go then." And he moved towards her, still with a strange glimmer in his eyes, which Lisbon still couldn't quite place.
"W-what?" Teresa stammered, gob smacked. Did Patrick friggin' Jane just propose to go bed with her? She must have suffered brain damage from sleep deprivation, or have been hypnotized. - No, that's what Jane was usually trying to do, and he hadn't been doing his usual stuff with her (quite the contrary, even. His smile, and that sparkle in his gaze told her a story long forgotten - about prayers answered, desires fulfilled, wishes granted, dreams coming true, including a very naked blonde consultant, who took her - … she resolutely stomped this particular thought down.). Drugs, then. Did Bertram perhaps slip her a pill, or spiked her coffee? She racked the sorry remnants of her brain to deduce the cause of her malfunctioning hearing ability.
Jane meanwhile read the confusion and frown on her beautiful face, and felt at home for the first time in two weeks. He flashed her a blinding smile, a genuine one, and that made it all the more dangerous for Teresa, getting warm all down to her toes, cheeks flaring. She felt her knees go weak.
This wouldn't do, not at all. Senior Agent Teresa Lisbon of the California Bureau of Investigation did NOT get all rosy-cheeked, or weak-kneed, just because a very attractive … well, her joints had to be in top condition, period. No matter the company.
"I'll make some tea. You're as exhausted as I am, obviously." She put as much resolution into her voice as possible, and turning on her heel, so as not to give him a chance to respond, and marched purposefully towards her kitchen. And, completely coincidentally, as far from him as possible. She needed a clear head, stat.
Jane's voice drifted towards her like a soft caress, crushing her hopes of getting a clear head. „I sold the house in Malibu. My first instinct was to burn it to the ground, but then again – it makes me happier to erase the bad memories with good ones instead. May another family fill the rooms with laughter, cheerfulness, and life again."
He must have followed her, for she could suddenly feel his breath next to her ear, his hands resting on the kitchen counter on both her sides, effectively boxing her in.
"Teresa." He whispered softly to her neck, his lips just a fraction away from her skin. She tried to suppress a shudder, but failed miserably, as she thought about his sensual lips, at which she had tried not to stare at for the better part of the last decade, so tantalizingly close.
Jane dipped his nose to her skin, observing her pulse point, whose hectic flutter betrayed the state of mind the object of his desire, in fact the object of all his desires from this point on, was in.
His hands slid from the kitchen counter to her hips, as he inhaled the bedazzling scent of her hair and skin, all creamy white in color, cinnamon and apples threatening to bewitch his senses. How he could have gone without that heavenly aroma for the last fourteen days was beyond him. Well, if he had his way, he'd never had to be without it for the rest of his life. And Patrick Jane was used to get what he wanted.
Teresa was close to fainting upon feeling his strong, warm hands on her hips. She clung to the counter in front of her for sheer balance, but when she sensed him sniffing her hair, she could take it no more, and turned around.
- End of chapter 1 –
A/N 2: So far, so good. Please let me know what you think.