Hey! Mentalgal here! So this is the first Chapter of Taylor Grace and my story, Red Smile, Blue Box. I wrote this one, and she'll write the next. Hope you like how I started it, and Dr. Who fans, don't worry, it will come. My chapters are always mentalist dominated, and Taylor's are Dr. Who Dominated.

Please Let us know what you think, Review! Thanks! Enjoy!

"Kay guys, it's five o'clock, you can go home, have a great night."

Agent Teresa Lisbon of the CBI had just looked at her watch in the nick of time. Occasionally she would lose track of time through her paperwork, thereby accidentally keeping her team in late, as they didn't go home without her say so.

Agent Wayne Rigsby, former Arson specialist, was the first to stand. It was obvious that he had spent the last five minutes or so staring at the clock instead of working.

Lisbon was leaning against her office door-frame, watching Rigsby nod a goodbye before heading to the elevator. After nodding one in return, she shifted her gaze to the dead-pan, yet witty agent Kimball Cho, and the Red-haired, junior Agent, Grace Van pelt. The two agents were both at their desks packing up their few personal belongings, then Cho nodded and Van Pelt smiled as they headed to the elevator.

The only team member that remained, apart from Lisbon herself, was the team's consultant; Patrick Jane.

As he was one to occasionally fall asleep on the brown, leather, office couch, Lisbon considered the possibility that he may have missed the dismissal. Alas, as she got closer, to wake him from his supposed "slumber", she peered over his blond curls to see a pair of blue-green eyes, awake and alert, staring into hers.

"Aren't you going home?" she asked him, a little curiosity and concern showing through her expression.

"Ah," started Jane, not moving from where he lay, "I think I might hang around for a bit."

With a small nod from Lisbon, he shut his eyes and she moved back to her office. Sitting down behind her mound of paperwork, the Boss leant back in her chair and looked down at her desk.

Papers, files, empty coffee mugs, her computer-keyboard was probably in there somewhere. Lisbon looked away from her desk, and out into the bullpen. First she observed Grace's desk. So neat, so clean, so organised, Lisbon saw a lot of her younger self in the junior agent. Then her gazed shifted to Rigsby's desk. Empty chip packets filled his bin, a few of the previous case's files were scattered on his desk. Hmph. You could count on Rigsby to forget the job he is set. She'd have to deliver those files to Hightower later. Then her eyes wondered to Cho's desk. A small smile crept across her lips as she focused her eyes on the toy car and motorbike he used as paperweights for his workspace.

She then moved her gaze over to the couch. The empty couch. With no Jane in it. Where was he? He couldn't have gone home, she would have heard the elevator…

"Hey Lisbon."

Her thoughts scrambled at the sudden occurrence of noise.

Turning her small jump of surprise into rearrangement of her seat, she looked up to meet his gaze.

"Hey Jane, What's up?" she questioned.

"Eh, I was wondering if, maybe, once you've finished, we could –"

Jane was interrupted by Lisbon's mobile ringing.

Giving Jane an apologetic look, Lisbon lifted the phone to her ear.

"Lisbon."

Hightower spun a 180 in her office chair. Did that agent EVER go home?

"Hey Lisbon," she said, "Seeing you're still here, would you mind going to a crime scene? We got a call, and as it's not far from here, I figured you wouldn't mind checking it out."

"Yes ma'am. Just email me the details, I'll be right there."

Lisbon was just about to hang up, when she heard her boss speak again.

"Oh and Lisbon?"

"Yes Ma'am?"

"Take Jane."

The line went dead.

Noticing Jane's questioning look, Lisbon answered it with two words.

"We're up."'

***MeNtAlGrAcE***

The boss and consultant pulled up in the driveway of a reasonably large house, two stories tall, and they both stepped out.

After passing the local police cars with lights flashing, Lisbon wondered through the open door, Jane close behind. She then began to search the bottom story for any local police, or even just the body. To her annoyance, she found nothing.

"Come on Jane," she said, looking back at him, "must be upstairs."

Lisbon made a move to start up the stairs, but was held back by a hand grasping her wrist. She looked down to see Jane looking up at her.

"What is it?" she questioned his expression.

"Don't you think it's a little weird? No local cops?"

"They're probably upstairs with the body."

"Lisbon, there were three police cars outside. Don't you think at least one of the officers would be waiting to guide us to the victim?"

Jane was right. It was strange. Usually, there was a trail of local cops leading straight to the body. Also, no sounds were coming from upstairs.

"Good call Jane." Lisbon took out her glock, and pointed it to the ground as she slowly made her way up the stair, Jane following her actions.

Once they arrived at the top, Lisbon still holding her gun firmly, went up to the door that she saw before her. Slowly, she reached out, took the door-knob in her hand, and in one swift movement she twisted the knob and pushed open the door and swiftly entered the room, pointing her gun straight before her at… thin air. What the door revealed was a room. One of those rooms that in actuality were two rooms connected by a door-frame with no door. Lisbon made her way through the first room, and seeing no body, nor cop, nor rival of any kind, she moved swiftly to the next.

"Clear!"

At the sound of Lisbon's voice, Jane strolled into the second room, hands in pockets.

"She's most likely in her early twenties," Lisbon started, "Jane you wanna take a look at the body?"

No response.

"Jane?"

Still no response. Lisbon stood from the body and spun around to see that Jane was standing, his arm pointing under a table, a shocked expression on his face. Lisbon walked up to him, and followed his pointed arm under the table to see a black shoe, grey socks, navy pants, gun, badge, this was a local police officer. Dead. In the victim's house. Under the victim's table.

Fear swept over the two law officers as they heard the lock of the door they had entered the first room through, click shut. They were trapped, and the murderer was most likely there with them.

A bump from the other side of the room caused Jane to jump, and Lisbon to spin around, her gun now aimed at a large, wooden closet.

"CBI!" she called to the wardrobe, "Come out with your hands up!"

The closet doors burst open, and the shock-wave sent both officers crashing to the floor.

***MeNtAlGrAcE***

So did you like it? Let us know (o: Review please!