Remember-Me-Please

by Airannath

Heaven was nothing like they had imagined. Comfortable and peaceful, yes. You would stay there forever. The problem was that you couldn't. Not everyone, at least. Only Angels had that privilege. The others, the Souls, had to come back and live. Again. Their main purpose was to find their mates. A cruel fate, but there was nothing anyone could do about it.

A/N: Something short, since I had this idea in my head and the motivation to write it. I owe it to the Merlin fandom, which I recently joined.( I even found myself one more ship to love-hate. Don't worry, I won't forget about my straight sweet OTP). I will post at the other fanfictions after I get my laptop back. (I want them longer than this and it's more comfortable on my laptop.)

Disclaimer: I own nothing related to the Mentalist, excepting a few dreams and ideas. Nothing important.

Remember-Me-Please

" Do you remember me?" Her voice was croaky. It shouldn't have been. There were so many things that shouldn't have been the way they were. Like her cold coffee and that conversation. You don't start conversations like that. You say 'Hello', your name and try to - She wondered if she had been like that in other lifetimes. If she had been like that the last time she was twenty-two. She couldn't remember if her life depended on it. His cerulean eyes were on her the next moment, big, curious, beautiful. His eyes. She had no idea how many centuries she had watched those, but she would spend as many as possible.

'Am I supposed to?' He asked, his voice betraying his amusement. It was fine. She had been warned that he could not remember at first. Or at all. Though, she supposed, it was worse when you could. When you remembered the exact way he kissed, he embraced, he smelled under the cold rain. The place where a scar from a pirate fight used to be.

Funny enough, she had the image of a blond man dressed as a woman, from a life where he'd been an actor - and possibly gay, but she didn't really mind because he was her soulmate. She had memories the origin of which she wasn't sure about, because she couldn't remember any of those from her life as a cop, the most recent one.

" I am Teresa." She said, awkwardly, after a pause of thirty seconds. She didn't realized she had spaced out. "Lis-" she cut herself off. If he couldn't remember her by her first name, it was unlikely that he would after a name that was no longer hers.

"Nope, it's a mistake. I know no one called Teresa." he answered.

"Oh. Sorry, then." She said, trying to leave as less humiliatingly as possible. "Though there's always a start." He went on. She turned her head in time to see his small smile. "Your coffee seems cold. Would you care to join me for a new one?"