I know i should be working on my Fractured story, experiencing a bad case of writer's block, but this idea just popped into my head and I simply had to do something about it before it escaped. As a British fan of The Mentalist I would love to see what would happen if they ever made their way over here for a case. This is set about 18 months after the S3 finale after all the dust has settled. Every team member will get some romance on this trip in some form and i promise there will be Jisbon moments. Reviews please : ), plus If you have anything you would like to see the team do whilst in London then let me know and I'll do my best to incorporate it. Happy reading!

Disclaimer: I not own The Mentalist or any of its characters, the members of the MET that you will meet in the next chapter are my own creation though.

Chapter One

As the team stepped off the plane after a ten-hour flight, they were given a traditional English welcome... a thunderstorm. It certainly made a change from the stifling California heat that they had all become accustomed to.

Barely seconds after making their way off the air-craft, Lisbon and her team became utterly soaked to the skin; everybody, that is, expect Patrick Jane who was suddenly sporting a large waterproof coat that appeared out of no-where.

As he looked around to take in his new surroundings, he could not help but let out a contained laugh at his colleagues who had all come so un-prepared.

'What, nobody else brought wet-weather gear?' he asked with the usual tone of mockery laden in his voice.

This comment earned him four angry glares from four people who were slowly beginning to resemble drowned rats. Van-Pelt was quickly fixing her long red hair into a ponytail in order to prevent the frizzing that was inevitable when hair such as hers got wet. Cho turned his attentions to the small child getting off the plane, the same who had kicked the back of his chair since they had taken off from LAX airport; one stoic stare from the agent was enough for ginger-haired boy to lose the smirk grin he had been sporting and quickly grasp his mother's arm. Rigsby, on the other hand, was simply rummaging around in his carry-on bag; no doubt looking for something to eat, despite the fact that during the flight he had already gone through two massive bags of chips, a meatball sub and one of those giant Toberlerone bars that you only ever seemed to get at airports. Jane had made some comment that this constant need for food meant that Rigsby's favourite story growing up must have been the hungry caterpillar, and subconsciously he thought that one day, if he ate enough, then he would turn into the beautiful butterfly. This resulted in laughter from the team, apart from Rigsby who seemed a little hurt, and astonished, by these comments and the surprising truth behind them.

As they made their way across the runway to the arrival lounge Lisbon remained quiet. She was irritable and cranky; she had always hated flying, avoiding it at all costs. Once they got inside Heathrow airport she let out a groan and the long queue at immigration that they had to wait in, like civilians, being in the CBI carried no weight over here in London; no special treatment for them. Jane looked over at her, she was soaked through, her hair sticking to the sides of her face, her clothes wet-through, and he could tell by the disgruntled and uncomfortable look on her face that her socks were probably sodden with water. A sensible man would just leave her to stew. But Jane wasn't sensible; he liked winding her up too much.

'Ah Rule Brittania!' he sang loudly, garnering some comical looks from passers' by, 'What's wrong Lisbon? I am getting the slightest, tiniest, feeling that you're not happy about our little trip over the pond.'

She replied instantaneously in her usual sarcastic tone that he would never tire of hearing of. 'Oh I'm great, ecstatic even. I loved getting woken up at the crack of dawn with a phone call from Bertrem telling us that an urgent case means we have to get to London ASAP leaving us with no time to prepare or pack properly.' She gestured out of the window at the grey skies and the apparent monsoon that was happening, 'I mean seriously, it's the middle of august! Have these people not heard of the summer season.'

Jane couldn't help but form a large smile on his face. Lisbon was such a control freak, that even the notion of unpredictable weather made her so angry. At least it gave her something to talk about whilst here; the Brits, of course, loved talking about the weather.

'Well Lisbon, seasons don't tend to exist here. And may I ask why exactly are we here?'

'You're kidding me right? Didn't you listen to my briefing on the flight?'

'Not really. Too much effort.'

'So you have no idea what we're doing here? You just thought we were off on a jolly to the UK did you?'

'Meh, I didn't really care for the details to be honest.' Jane replied nonchalantly, 'What can I say? You call me up at four in the morning, tell me to pack my passport and a bag and that we were going to London. Frankly my head's still spinning now Lisbon.'

She clearly wasn't in the mood for their usual banter and she just rolled her eyes as she rummaged for her passport as they drew closer to the front of the line.

'Well i guess i'll just have to brief you in the car on our way to the MET headquarters.' She sighed.

'What? We're going straight their?' Van Pelt squealed behind them. 'But boss we're soaked to the skin. Can we not just quickly go to our hotel and change into something dry?'

'No' she barked back a little harsher than necessary, but her wet socks were really starting to get to her. She turned her head and shot an apologetic look towards Grace before continuing to speak in a softer, more approachable voice. 'Listen, I really want to get out of these clingy wet clothes just as much as you do,' this comment made all three of their male colleagues blush like school boys, which thankfully went unnoticed by both Lisbon and Van-Pelt, 'but I'm afraid we have to get straight to Scotland Yard. You're aware of how serious this case is; we can't afford to lose any time.'

Grace nodded in understanding, albeit disappointment. As much as she was uncomfortable in her wet clothes, she also didn't want any potentially hot Englishmen to see her looking in such a state. She caught a glimpse at Jane who had sussed out her motives and gave her a boyish wink.

Over an hour later and they had finally made their way through immigration, customs, and baggage claim; flying was always so much hassle. Lisbon quickly turned back into business mode and led the way towards the exits.

'The MET have sent two cars to pick us up. Cho, Rigsby you take one and on the way ring our hotel to make sure we actually have beds for the next week, at least, along with internet access. Van-Pelt, Jane you're with me. I'll brief Jane about the case so far while you, Van Pelt can find out just who we will be working with on this case.'

'Yes boss.' Cho, Rigsby and Van Pelt all replied in perfect unison and they proceeded to follow her towards the exit doors. Jane, however, remained glued to the spot and it took Lisbon a few seconds to realise that he was not trailing after her like the others. She swiftly spun on the spot wearing her, Please don't make this day more difficult, Jane,' look on her face.' Before she could say anything, he spoke.

'You can't expect me to meet our colonial cousins in law enforcement with you lot looking like you've taken a bath in a dirty puddle. I mean we're representing the best that California has to offer.'

Lisbon took another sigh, 'Jane, like i've already explained, we simply don't have...' her voiced tailed off as he held up his carry-on bag like it was Santa's sack full of toys.

'Quite right Lisbon we don't have the time for you all to root around in your suitcases and spend ages deciding on what to wear, which is why I have done that for you. You can quickly change in the bathroom; the toilet facilities in airports are always meticulously clean.' He then proceeded to pull out four carrier bags, each containing a set of clothing for his four colleagues. As he chucked the corresponding bags at them their faces lit up, including Lisbon's, once they peeked inside and realised what he had done. Each bag contained a new outfit, complete with socks.

'But how- I mean when did you...?' Lisbon asked, all the while trying to suppress the smile that was forming itself on her face.

'Well Lisbon they have these things called clothes stores, and while you were all walking around the airport like zombies i decided to be pro-active and plan ahead. I knew that none of you would dress appropriately for such conditions. For police officers you really do lack the most basic common sense skills.'

'Gee thanks man,' Rigsby exclaimed like an excitable child on Christmas morning, he rummaged around in his bag, pulling out a small, blue plastic ball with a zipper around it. 'Uh what the hell is this?'

The rest of team looked equally perplexed as they pulled out their balls of varying colours. Cho had a dark green one, Van-Pelt red and Lisbon bright pink.

'Unzip them and you'll find out.' Jane replied simply. And as Rigsby unzipped the ball, a mass of material sprung out to reveal a full-length water-proof coat, complete with a hood that resembled the black one Jane had been wearing.

'This weather shows no sign of relenting and a dry work force is a happy one. And yes Lisbon that was the only colour they had left,' he said as he noticed Lisbon's nose flare up in disgust at the garish colour of her coat that most definitely was not the only colour that they had left.

Amongst the collective thanks from the team, Cho stood there, stoic as ever, and Patrick knew exactly what he was thinking.

'Hang on, if you brought these at the airport before we left then why didn't you simply give them to us before we got off the plane and got drenched by this god-forsaken weather?'

'Well that's gratitude for you', he continued in his mock tone of disbelief which was met with stern glares from the team, 'I buy you all a whole new outfit complete with warm, dry comfy socks and you all focus on the tiny mistake I made by forgetting to simply just hand you the coats in the first place.'

Then before he knew it Lisbon had lobbed her pink, soft ball of material straight for his temple. He picked it up and smiled; London wasn't gonna know what had hit it.