Isn't it odd how the most important moments of your life can happen on the most normal of days? The day her mother died was one such day. There wasn't a cloud in the sky. Teresa had gotten a B+ on an english paper. She couldn't wait to show it off.
In fact, the sky was perfectly blue once again, the sun beaming down joyously on the CBI building, but Lisbon wasn't thinking about that as she entered her boss' office. Her mind was whirring, evaluating her recent performance. She'd only had her position for a few weeks, what could she have done wrong? Or maybe it was one of her subordinates. Cho could be blunt, maybe he'd offended someone. Or Rigsby, the bumbling arson investigator who shook every time she addressed him.
Minelli glanced up from his files as she stepped inside. He looked annoyed. Whatever she'd done had to be serious.
"Ah, Agent Lisbon," He said, "Good to see you." A little puzzled now, she tightened her stance.
"Thank you, sir." She replied. "May I ask what this is about?" Minelli seemed uncomfortable.
"I'd, uh, like you to meet Patrick Jane." Lisbon followed his gaze and was startled to see a man sitting on the sofa, watching her with a grin. He wore a light grey suit over a vest and light brown shoes. Objectively he was good looking, with blonde curly hair, crinkled blue eyes, and a nice smile. She didn't recognize him, which in itself was odd. She knew just about every Senior Agent in the CBI. She didn't quite like the look this Patrick Jane was giving her. It was like he could really see her.
"Hello." She greeted him cordially. His grin widened.
"Hello." He repeated cheerfully. Lisbon narrowed her eyes at him, but it didn't put a dent in his carefree exterior.
"I brought you in here because I have a new assignment for you." Minelli said, pulling her attention away from the strange man. "It's the Red John case." Her jaw dropped, but she snapped it shut immediately. She glanced at Patrick Jane, who was still staring at her.
"Sir, can I speak to you for a moment?" She said, gesturing to the hall. Minelli sighed but followed her.
"Take your time." Jane called as she shut the door. Lisbon rounded on her boss.
"Sir, I've only been team leader for a month."
"I'm well aware of that, Agent."
"And you're giving me a serial killer with over half a dozen mutilated victims? That's insane." Minelli rubbed a hand over his balding crown.
"I know, it isn't fair to you. But I have no other choice."
"Wait a minute." Lisbon said, holding up her hand. Her mind was in overdrive again. "This case has been kicked around by every homicide squad because of some tagalong."
"He prefers 'consultant'." Minelli interrupted with a sigh. Her eyes widened.
"That's him?" She asked in a harsh whisper. "That's the guy every Agent's been groaning about at the water-cooler?"
"Yes." Lisbon huffed an incredulous laugh.
"There is no way I'm letting him in my team."
"It's not your call. This is an order. There is no case without Jane. You will take the Red John file, put up with Jane, and go about your work." He dropped the stern tone. "You're the only one left. And you're good. You've dealt with serial killers before."
"Nothing on this scale." She objected.
"Still. You can do this. You have to." Without giving her time to respond he turned and reentered his office. Lisbon resisted the urge to stomp her foot. Pursing her lips she opened the door, refusing to move farther in. Jane was standing near the window and turned when she appeared. His smile widened when he saw her expression.
"Great!" He exclaimed. "I'll go poke around the new floor." Minelli waved him off. Jane walked (practically bounced, really) towards the door and seemed amused when she didn't move out of the way. He had to squeeze past her in the doorway, not minding her glare in the slightest. Once he was out he gave a cheery little wave and swaggered confidently out of sight. Lisbon turned her glare to her boss. He shook his head.
"Say the word," He told her, "And I kick this one to the Feds." She softened her pose marginally at this assurance. Minelli held out the thick file for her to take. She moved forward, grabbed it, and left immediately for her office. She stopped short upon entering, irked to see her new consultant perusing her things.
"Nice place. I like your couch." She rolled her eyes. "Ooh, cute dogs." He said, pointing to the picture of her brother's golden retrievers that stood on her desk. Lisbon stiffened. She loved those dogs. She'd always wanted some of her own but her busy work life rendered it impossible. She made up for it by pet sitting for James whenever she could. Jane met her eyes. "Yours?"
"No." She said shortly, striding past him around her desk and throwing the Red John file on it. She turned. "Let's get some things straight, Mr. Jane—"
"Patrick's fine." He interrupted. "And you are?"
"Lisbon, Senior Special Agent Lisbon." She replied stonily. Jane nodded, but it was a patronizing sort of gesture. She hated it. "This case is mine, not yours. You work for me, not the other way around." He gave that same infuriating nod. "I know some of the other Agents you've worked with have a… different style, but I won't tolerate any of your crap."
"Ah, so you don't like your colleagues either." He remarked. "Good, and here I thought it was just me." Lisbon stayed quiet, refusing to badmouth her fellow agents no matter what she thought of them. "I'm reasonably sure the last guy is the one who pushed for you to get the case." Jane told her with a smirk. "He must've hoped you'd tame me with sex." Lisbon's mouth fell open in wordless rage and disbelief.
"How dare—"
"I know, I know." He raised his hands in defensive agreement. "They're pigs, the lot of them. Clearly they don't know either of us very well." It was then that she noticed the wedding ring. Slightly placated, she let the remark slide. She continued as if his little digression hadn't happened.
"If I feel you are a hindrance to the investigation I will have you removed." Jane tilted his head inquiringly at her.
"Even if it means turning over the case of one of the most notorious serial killers of our time?"
"I'm not looking for a commendation." She told him. "I don't care about turf wars. I don't care who collars him. If I want out, the FBI will handle him. I do my job and I do it well, that's all that matters. You give me trouble and I toss this. I don't care who you think you are. You are not going to disrupt my team. Am I understood?" Lisbon stopped, realizing the change in Jane's demeanor. He was no longer the exuberant charmer he'd appeared. There was a hollowness in him, a touch of sadness in his eyes. The lines of his face seemed more pronounced. "What's wrong?" She asked softly. This startled him from his haunted state. He quickly fixed a smile to his lips, though this time she realized it was not genuine.
"Nothing," He said with a dismissive wave of his hand, "You just reminded me of someone. But back on point. All you've heard about me is the bad stuff. You don't think I could be an asset to your team. Fair enough." He paused. "You're not married, no kids right?" Lisbon blinked. "Yes," He continued. "You have siblings, probably all younger than you, possibly all boys. For someone with only a short time in charge you're used to a position of responsibility. As a woman in a man's job you hold yourself to a higher standard and push yourself harder than your coworkers, in response to a perceived disapproval. Rightly so seeing as the majority of your colleagues want you gone or in their bed." She gaped at him. "Virgil back there is the only one who stands up for you. He thinks of you like a daughter which is why he tried to spare you from me. You broadcast this harsh persona but secretly you're a very caring and understanding person. You're insecure, you have trust issues, and some trauma in your past. How'd I do?" She stared at him.
"You… you read my file?" She asked flatly.
"No, and I see you haven't read mine." He replied with a smirk. "Good guess though. You're more intelligent than most, and certainly more practical. You wouldn't believe how many people jump to ESP." Jane motioned to the thick folder lying on her desk. "Go on then. You've been dying to acquaint yourself with the case. I'll leave you to it." With a twinkle in his eye he sauntered from her office. Watching warily through the blinds, Lisbon saw him enter the bullpen and introduce himself to Cho and Rigsby. Turning back to her desk, she finally indulged herself and dug into the file.
In some ways Red John was typical: the level of violence and sadism in the excessive nonlethal cuts, targeting women who were vulnerable and attacking them in their homes where they felt safe, the narcissism that resulted in leaving a calling card in the form of the bloody smiley face. Yet there were quirks too: the dramatic styling of the scene, the shifting locations and number of victims, the risk taking behavior like lingering around their homes where he could be caught. It was both a fascinating and a horrifying read. The pictures were the worst part. The women all looked so terrified. Red John must've delighted in drawing the torture out. Lisbon was turning past one photo when she came upon a note. That was odd, there were no other notes. Then she started to read…
"Jane." She called into the bullpen some time later. Her new consultant paused in the midst of a card trick with a mystified Rigsby. A subdued smile appeared as he examined her carefully blank expression. Pulling the Ace of Hearts from his vest pocket and giving it to her Agent, he stood and followed her.
"You read fast." He commented idly. She crossed her arms. Jane nodded and spoke again more seriously. "So now you know why Red John and I are a package deal. I have to find him."
"What makes you different than any of his other victims' families?" She asked cooly. His head tilted.
"I have skills that none of them have. The only leads this case has are because of me."
"And you think that justifies your behavior? People die every day. Millions have lost loved ones. It isn't an excuse for anything and only a jackass tries to make it one." Jane was giving her that same scrutiny he had in Minelli's office. She had a terrible feeling he'd deduced her entire life story.
"I'll keep that in mind." He said softly, and Lisbon hated that she couldn't tell if he was being sincere.
"I have work to do." She told him, more gently than she would've liked.
"Red John work?"
"No. My team and I just closed a case, I have to finish writing it up."
"Ah." Jane said, looking back towards where the small sofa sat. "Mind if I lie down, maybe take a nap." She narrowed her eyes at him but gave a sharp nod. He sat and settled himself into the cushions. "You know you should really invest in a couch for the communal area. All the other squads have really comfy furniture. Must be a tenure thing."
"Shut up and sleep or get out." She snapped. He stretched out and closed his eyes, a content little smile on his face. Lisbon turned imperiously to her laptop and set to work.
Suspect Parson was apprehended outside his and the victim's home after the aforementioned stakeout by myself and Agent Cho. He attempted to escape on foot but I caught his arm and forced him to the ground. As Agent Cho read him his rights he repeatedly proclaimed his innocence.
He was crying. Not just denying the accusations, he was begging her to let him go. "I love Maria, we were getting married, I could never hurt her, please…" He struck her as genuinely heartbroken. What was his motive anyway?
No, everyone protests being arrested, it didn't mean anything. Parson was just a better actor than most. And love and violence have always been linked.
I interrogated him as Agents Cho and Rigsby observed. He admitted to having argued with the victim about their wedding plans the night she died, but once again stated that he left before 10:30 PM to go for a drive and 'clear his head'. No one can confirm this.
Of course not. Charles Parson and Maria Valentine lived in an isolated area. The only neighbors close enough to know them were an elderly couple who were in bed by 9. Both attested to the young lovers' devotion to each other and said that Parson would never harm his fiance.
Yes, and how many neighbors are completely shocked when the police storm in. Nobody knows anyone in this world.
The victim's brother, Mr. Tomas Valentine, received a call from the victim's home phone which lasted less than a minute. He attests that he heard the victim struggling with suspect Parson. When the connection cut off he left in his car for the victim's home. This was at 10:53, the attached LUDs confirm the call. A witness, Mr. Valentine's neighbor, was taking out his trash and recalls Mr. Valentine driving off around 11, reportedly agitated. The witness statement is included.
There certainly was a call, but they had no way of verifying what was said. They had to rely on Mr. Valentine's word that his sister was fighting off her fiance, which had seemed odd to her. If you were defending yourself, how would you have time to grab the phone, dial, and keep the line open for a minute. A minute is a substantial length of time when fighting for your life. It wasn't as if she dropped it, the phone was found upright in its stand. And Mr. Valentine had been certain that the assailant's voice was his once future brother-in-law, so they couldn't have been struggling that much that they were unintelligible. It seemed odd…
He doesn't have a motive either. Valentine may not have liked his sister's choice of husband but by all accounts the siblings had a good relationship. Why would he kill her?
Mr. Valentine claims to have arrived at the scene at a quarter past 11. This is unconfirmed. He states that he found the victim DOA and did not disturb the body. He called 911 and waited for officers to respond.
That was another thing. When you find a loved one dead, you almost always disturb the body. You check their pulse for one thing, try to shake them awake, maybe caress their face as you grieve. Mr. Valentine was certain he never touched his sister's corpse. And almost immediately, when she'd questioned him about half an hour later, he was already using the past tense as he referred to Maria. It had taken Lisbon over a month to stop saying 'is' when her mother died. The fact that it was so easy for him to adapt had rubbed her the wrong way. Though that could have been the man's entire personality. Something about the man had rankled her. Mr. Valentine was a lower level state official who acted like he dealt with classified information. He was smarmy and liked to throw his weight around. It was how the CBI had been put in charge of the investigation. "Only the best for my dear sister," he had been quick to announce.
"It was the brother." Lisbon jumped. Jane was observing her from the couch.
"What?"
"The case you're trying to close." He elaborated simply. "You have the wrong man. It wasn't the fiance, it was her brother." She leaned forward on her elbows, weaving her fingers together.
"How do you know?" She asked curiously. He made a lazy wave towards the bullpen.
"I saw some of the files out there when I was entertaining your subordinates. And I got a look at the mug shot of the fiance, he's innocent."
"You can tell just by his picture." She said skeptically. He hummed the affirmative.
"That is a hopeless man, not a defeated one. And from what I gathered from the very forthcoming Agent Rigsby, your entire case rests on the brother. Plus he had motive."
"Oh, and what would that be?"
"He was embezzling. His sister was going through their finances for the wedding. He had to kill her or else he'd go to jail. Simple." Jane shrugged. Lisbon scoffed.
"Sure, easy as pie. Who cares about evidence. I'll just go arrest him now, shall I?"
"You will eventually." He told her calmly.
"Is that so?" She replied doubtfully. He sat up and fixed her with a stare.
"Yes, because you've been thinking the exact same things. You've suspected him from the start. You will investigate the brother's bank records and trace the money back to the state. And you'll convict him for murdering his sister." She held his intense gaze.
"How did you know I wasn't sold on the fiance?" She asked quietly. Jane grinned.
"That's an easy one. You've been hesitating every few sentences and staring into space." Lisbon blushed. His eyes widened, as did his smirk. "Ha! I can't believe that's what made you blush! Earlier I basically planted the idea of us having sex in your head and nothing! No reaction at all! You have some very strange priorities, Senior Special Agent Lisbon." She scowled at him and stood.
"If you're done mocking me, I'm going to go sort all of this out. Feel free to leave and never come back." She made her way out the door.
"Have fun!" He called. Lisbon couldn't fight the tiny grin that rose to her face.
As it turned out, it was an easy bust. Cho quickly found evidence of the embezzling. When she confronted Mr. Valentine he immediately confessed. He explained that the call was actually his sister demanding to know where the money came from. He'd driven to her home to try and convince her not to say anything but Maria was a virtuous person and refused. In a panic he'd bashed her head in against the wall. Horrified at his actions he called 911 but it was too late. He had no choice but to keep up appearances by calling in the CBI.
As Lisbon made her way back from booking him, she couldn't help thinking about her new consultant. He was undeniably helpful, even if his cocky attitude was abhorrent to her. She shook her head at herself. So he pulled out a few parlor tricks and mind games, it didn't make him an asset worth keeping around. The jury was still out, so to speak.
With these thoughts swirling around her brain, it was startling to see the man on her mind still lying on her couch. She stopped short and checked her watch. It was after 7 pm. Nearly everyone else was gone. She'd actually sent her agents home over an hour earlier. Lisbon approached him cautiously. He appeared to be asleep. Her head tilted as she examined his peaceful countenance. Patrick Jane was obviously attractive. It was the first thing she'd noticed about him. Probably the first thing everyone noticed. She wondered how many women fell over themselves trying to get his attention. And honestly, if they'd met under different circumstances, she'd be the same way. But she realized how fruitless it was. He still wore his wedding ring, even a year after the death of his family. He was channeling all of his grief into investigating their killer. Had he ever taken the time to mourn? It didn't seem that way. How dangerous he must be. Though, in sleep, he certainly didn't look it.
She unrepentantly kicked her couch.
"Hey!" He exclaimed as he was jarred out of his dosing. He blinked up at her. "I fell asleep." He muttered to himself in surprise. "That's new."
"Everyone's gone home." She told him. Jane seemed to shake some of the cobwebs from his brain.
"Well clearly not everyone, you're still here." He remarked, sitting up. She rolled her eyes and moved to her desk. Flipping open the massive folder, she continued going over the Red John case. She could feel his gaze on her but ignored it. A while passed in that fashion, her reading, him watching her like a creep. Coming across something, Lisbon pulled out a witness statement from the canvass of the most recent murder. Reading the officer's report, she sighed in exasperation. "What is it?" Jane asked.
"'M-W-NFD'." She read aloud with a shake of her head.
"What's that mean?"
"It means this officer ought to be fired." She said in disgust. Placing it at the forefront of the file, she stood. Glancing at her watch, she was shocked to see it was already 9. "I should head out. I'll reinterview the witness tomorrow morning." She hesitated. "Would you want to come?" Jane grinned.
"You really do care about this case, don't you?" He asked.
"Of course I do." She answered.
"You know, Agent Lisbon," He began impishly, "I am forced to conclude you went into law enforcement for the rarest reason of all. You truly yearn to deliver justice to victims and perpetrators alike." She had no idea how to respond, but he apparently could see this and stood. "If we want to be fresh and alert for tomorrow's interview we best get some sleep." Though she had the impression he wouldn't be sleeping much, she agreed and the two set off for the elevators. Once inside, Jane nonchalantly asked, "What is your full name, anyway?"
Deciding to relent, she muttered, "Teresa Lisbon."
"Oh that's a beautiful name." He complimented. A moment of silence ensued. When he spoke next, it was with the tone reminiscent of ripping a bandaid off to spare prolonged pain. "Who have you lost, mother or father?" Lisbon tensed so much she imagined she could hear her bones creaking from the abuse. "Ah…" He murmured, and she knew she didn't have to reply. As soon as the doors opened, she all but sprinted to her car.
The next day when the two met in her office, neither she nor Jane brought up his prying. They shared a silent understanding. Grabbing their things, the pair stepped out and stopped in the bullpen.
"Cho, Rigsby." She called. Predictably Agent Rigsby's pen clattered to the floor. She could practically feel Jane holding in his snickers.
"Yeah boss?" Cho asked, ignoring his new partner's skittishness.
"I'm going to talk to someone in connection to the Red John case. You and Agent Rigsby man the phones. Call me if you get anything. Oh, and I expect your reports on the Valentine case on my desk when I get back."
"Sure you don't want me to come with you?"
"No, Mr. Jane is accompanying me." She said. Cho glanced between his boss and their new consultant dubiously.
"Don't worry," Jane told him, "I'll take good care of her." One of Cho's brows quirked up. Lisbon rolled her eyes.
"See you later." She said, striding away. She could hear Jane's hurried footsteps after her.
"It's funny," He said later when they were in her car, "Cho is so protective of you. You must've been a great team." She didn't ask how he knew they'd been partners before her promotion.
"Yeah, we keep each other's back."
"And Rigsby is marginally more terrified of you than he is attracted to you." A tiny chuckle escaped her to her horror. She glanced mortified at him, noting his shit-eating grin, and quickly returned her attention to the street. It was lucky they were so close to the witness' apartment. Pulling over, she hopped up the steps and knocked firmly on the door. She could see Jane schooling his expression out of the corner of her eye. A man in his early twenties, probably a student, appeared at the door.
"Yeah?" He asked tiredly. She held up her badge.
"Hi, I'm Agent Lisbon, this is Patrick Jane, we're with the CBI." He straightened as if expecting a reprimand. "Are you Joseph Seller?"
"Uh… Yeah. W-what's this about?"
"You were a witness at a murder that occurred over a month ago. You gave a description of a man running away from the scene." Seller visibly relaxed.
"Oh yeah. He bumped into me. I didn't really get a good look at him. I told that cop everything I could remember."
"We just want to see if there are any more details you can recall. I realize it was a while ago but any further insight could be crucial." She told him, pulling out her notepad. "You described him to the officer as a white male, correct?" He nodded. "What age would you say he was?" He shrugged. Repressing a sigh, she began the tedious effort of jogging his memory. "Somewhere between 15 and 50?"
"I guess, yeah."
"Was he on the young side, like in his 20s, or on the old side, say his 40s."
"Somewhere in the middle, 30s maybe."
"Okay. How about height. Was he taller than me." Seller gave an involuntary laugh.
"Definitely." She smiled tightly.
"Alright, you look about 5' 10". Taller than you?"
"Uh… yeah, a bit." Lisbon held her hand up a few inches above his head. "Little more." Seller supplied.
"Okay, so around 6' 3"." She wrote. "What about his weight? Would you say he was thin? Stocky? Muscular? Fat?"
"Pretty average. Not that muscular but not too flabby."
"You said white, can be a little more specific? Was he tan or pale? Maybe more red than cream toned?"
"Uh… pasty, I think. His head was bowed so I couldn't really see."
"Alright." She gave a polite smile. "That's very helpful, thank you."
"One last thing." Jane interjected for the first time. She'd almost forgotten he was there. "You said he bumped into you. Did he have any particular smell? Or maybe he said something." Seller shook his head.
"Nah, he didn't even apologize for almost knocking me over. But… huh. I think he smelled like some kind of cleaner. Like… pinesol or something."
"Great." Jane said jovially, clapping the young man on the shoulder. "You've done well. Have a good day and try not to get too drunk before your exam." He turned and headed for the car, leaving Lisbon with the stunned college student. He gawked at her. She shrugged helplessly, thanked him once more, and followed her consultant's lead.
"We have no way verifying the description." She told him as they buckled in. "Since it's been a month and witness statements are unreliable to begin with, it could all be crap. And it's entirely possible this man isn't the perpetrator anyway, just a stunned bystander or even just a harried commuter with no connection to the crime."
"Still, it's something. And you've proven yourself to be an exemplary agent with that little quiz." He said. "That was surely worth the ride."
"Shut up." She replied, and she didn't even mind that it sounded practically affectionate this time. She started the car and began the ride back to the CBI. "That was a good move on the smell."
"Hey, it was the only thing you forgot to cover. I didn't really contribute much. Though, if you'd wanted to make certain his memory was sound, I could've put him in a trance."
"No!" She objected quickly.
"Why not? It's perfectly safe."
"Because hypnotizing people without their consent is just wrong! And don't even get me started on it's efficacy in court."
"Fine." He said, holding his hands up in assent. "If it means that much to you I'll stay away from the hypnotism." She glanced suspiciously at him.
"Promise?"
"Promise." He agreed with a grin. Pacified, she refocused on her driving. Several minutes passed before Jane piped up, "You know I could just hypnotize you into believing hypnotism is a good thing."
"Do it and die."
"Got it."
When she entered her boss' office near the end of the day, she could see the weariness on Minelli's face. He'd clearly been expecting her. She crossed her arms and cocked her hip. He sighed.
"Well?" He asked exhaustedly.
"Patrick Jane is a pain in the ass. He's unruly, childish, and disruptive. He doesn't understand the concept of privacy, the need for solid evidence, or that vigilante justice is wrong. He's arrogant, flippant, and mentally disturbed. He ought to be locked up for the safety of himself and others." Minelli resignedly reached for his phone.
"I'll call the DOJ." He told her sympathetically.
"Oh no. You misunderstand. I think he should join my team full-time."
I couldn't contain my Mentalist muse. This new season is awesome. I seriously couldn't stop my mind going out of control with new ideas. Hopefully I stayed in character and presented a realistic take on their first impressions of each other.
I envision the first episode occuring roughly five years after the death of Jane's family. This story takes place a year after their deaths. It leaves time for Jane's breakdown and for him to be jockeyed from squad to squad. And our characters have four years to grow close and become the tight nit group they are by the time Grace arrives. As for Rigsby, I like the idea that he was petrified by his attractive and harsh new boss. It just made me giggle.
I can't believe it isn't super romantic and gushy. I've gotten better about that. I also didn't use line breaks. I made it smoother so the transitions (hopefully) tie it together by themselves. It's a different style than I'm used to. Feedback is much appreciated.
Now I have to go, I have to write my college essay... sigh...
Love always,
Laury the Latrator.