This was written as a one-shot for the Jello Forever March challenge.

~o~

Joy Keats had been a widow for four years. One evening her husband had failed to come home. He had been mugged on his way back from work and killed. Six months later, she had packed all her belongings and moved to Sacramento to work for a small architectural firm. She spent most of her days designing boring commercial buildings and houses. In her previous life, she would have hated it. She felt she had been destined for grander things. Now, she enjoyed the simplicity of her life. She had a good relationship with her colleagues, made a few friends in this now familiar city and had a few casual relationships. For the past three years, nothing had been out of the ordinary in Joy's life.

Until she met Patrick Jane.

She had been sitting in the corner of a Starbucks, on a cold, rainy Saturday afternoon, enjoying Hislop's The Island. The cafe had been particularly busy that afternoon and Patrick had sat down in the seat in front of her, grinning as he asked:

"Do you mind?"

She had minded, but her upper-middle class upbringing prevented her from voicing her true feelings. "Please, be my guest," she said with a forced smile before returning back to her novel.

"I'm sorry for your loss."

She looked up and frowned at the man who appeared to be in the wrong decade with his three-piece suit on a weekend day. "Excuse me?" she asked him.

"I said I was sorry for your loss, your husband. Obviously it happened a few years ago, but it still hurts."

Her shock prevented her from indignation. "How do you know that?"

"Oh, it's so obvious from your whole demeanor. I'm also a widower. My wife was killed eight years ago."

She closed her book slowly. "I'm sorry. Car accident?" she asked, knowing it was a very common way of being killed.

"Murder, like your husband."

She eyed him suspiciously. How could he possibly know this? Was he a stalker? "How do you know so much about me?"

"I'm psychic." He chuckled. "No, actually, I just notice things more than the average person. It helps when you've been through the same as the other person."

"Was your wife killed in a mugging as well?" she asked.

Patrick shook his head. "No, a serial killer. He's dead now. A cop killed him out of self-defense a few months ago."

"Are you making this up to come onto me?" she asked suspiciously. It seemed far-fetched that he would go to all that trouble, but Joy had seen and heard many things in her life.

He chuckled. "No, I swear. The serial killer's name is Red John and my name is Patrick Jane. Google it on your Blackberry, you'll see."

She didn't bother asking him how he knew she had a Blackberry with her and typed the two names Patrick had given her. In a few minutes, she discovered that what he had just said was true. "I'm sorry," she apologized. "I just have heard so many sob stories in my life, I didn't know."

Patrick held up his hand to reassure her. "No worries. Perfectly understandable. Now that you know my deep, dark secret, would you please give me the pleasure of telling me your name?"

She smiled, charmed. "Joy. Joy Keats."

He shook her hand. His hand felt warm and reassuring. Engaging. "Now, Joy Keats, would you like to have dinner with me tonight?"

Joy was surprised by the butterflies she felt in her stomach. It had been a long time since a man had made her feel that way after only 10 minutes. "It would be my pleasure."


Dating Patrick Jane had been a breeze. Everything was perfect. He was charming, funny, interesting, intelligent and a great lover. He also had a difficult past similar to hers that put them on the same level. Just like everything in life, however, it wasn't as perfect as it appeared to be. Patrick was holding something back. She had no idea what it was. At first, she thought it might have been something to do with the murder of his wife and child. Only two weeks after she began thinking that he was keeping her away from his pain, he spent one night after making love telling her everything: his psychic business, his wife begging him to quit, his mocking Red John on TV, discovering the bodies, his mental breakdown, his work with the CBI, his fights with his boss, his confrontation with the killer and finally Red John's death. She had felt so open with him that night. They had spent the rest of the weekend in her apartment, in their own little cocoon, away from the rest of the world. Two days later, she noticed that he was emotionally withdrawn again and she just couldn't understand why.

Finally, one day, she got the whole picture that Patrick had kept away from her. She met the people he worked with.

She had had a meeting with a client near the CBI and she had suggested that she should meet him in the parking lot for their dinner date that evening. Her meeting had finished early so she decided to surprise him. Once she was directed to the correct floor by the receptionist, she walked into the bullpen. She saw CBI agents at their desk, but couldn't see Patrick.

"Excuse me," she said to a man playing solitaire on his computer. "Would you mind telling me where Patrick Jane is?"

The man pointed to a couch at the far end of the room. She looked over and saw a form suddenly sitting up. It was Patrick. "Joy?" he asked curiously.

She smiled awkwardly. She could tell that he wasn't too happy with her surprise. "My meeting finished early so I thought I could see where you work," she explained.

He probably sensed her uneasiness and smiled at her as he took a few strides in her direction. "Of course. Brilliant idea.

This is Grace Van Pelt," he said as he walked by a gorgeous redhead.

The woman smiled at her, got up and walked to her to shake her hand.

"It's nice to meet you, Joy," the redhead told her.

"Nice to meet you."

The Asian man got up and shook her hand as well. "Kimball Cho," he introduced himself.

The man who had been playing solitaire stepped in next. "I'm Wayne Rigsby. Call me Wayne."

"It's very nice to meet you, Wayne," she replied warmly. Once the initial awkwardness was over, she was glad that she was finally meeting his colleagues. He had met all of hers a couple of months ago; it only seemed natural that she met his as well.

"Jane, I just got off the phone with the AG office. Mr. Rodriguez is filing a lawsuit..." the woman who had been speaking trailed off when she noticed Joy. She blinked at Joy a few times before asking, "Can we help you?"

Joy smiled. This must be Jane's boss. She had at least heard about her. Although she had imagined the woman taller. "I'm Joy. Patrick's friend," she explained as she pointed Patrick out.

The woman blinked at her again and then looked at Patrick. She looked shocked. There was no other word for it. After a few long, agonizing seconds, the woman got a hold of herself, smiled back at her and shook her hand. "Joy, of course. I'm Teresa Lisbon. Jane's boss."

"I gathered. I must admit, I did imagine you a bit..." Joy trailed off, realizing that she was about to put her foot in her mouth.

"Taller?" Lisbon helped her out.

Joy chuckled. "Yes. Scarier too."

Lisbon narrowed her eyes at Patrick. "What have you been telling your friend?"

Patrick put his hands on both of Joy's arm as he subtly led her away. "All good things, I promise." Although his hands were on Joy, his eyes were on his boss. Joy had never seen Patrick look at anyone like that before.

She also didn't miss the hurt in Teresa Lisbon's eyes.

Everything was definitely not perfect.


"Have you ever dated her?" Joy asked as she drove to the restaurant.

"Who?" Patrick asked, even though she was sure he knew who she was talking about.

"Your boss."

He shook his head. "She's my boss."

"She's pretty," Joy commented.

"She's still my boss."

"Funny, you don't strike me as the type of man who let that kind of thing stop him," she mused.

Patrick shrugged. "You're right. It shows that I wouldn't have been interested even if she weren't my boss."

"I don't think that's true. You seem very attracted to her," she insisted.

"Look," Patrick said with an annoyed tone, "you said it yourself: the fact that she's my boss wouldn't stop me. I've had plenty of opportunities to date her, but I didn't. I'm not interested so can we please drop the subject?"

She tensed at his tone. He had never spoken to her like that before. Changing the topic of conversation was obviously a good idea.

Their dinner had turned out to be the worst date they ever had. The conversation, when there was one, was tense and forced. They had planned for him to stay the night at her apartment, but she drove back to the CBI instead so he could get his car and drive back to his place. When they were in the middle of the parking lot, Patrick relaxed a bit. "Look, I'm sorry. I wasn't very good company tonight."

"Did she turn you down? Did she break your heart?"

"Joy..." he pleaded meekly.

"No," she said firmly, "I deserve to know. What is the deal with your boss?"

"Nothing. That's the thing. There's really nothing to say. No one asked anyone out. No one ever displayed feelings toward the other. No one broke anyone's heart. There's nothing there."

Joy shook her head. It wasn't good enough. "Then why the tension tonight? Why did you look at her the way you did?" She took a deep breath before asking her next question. "Why did she look hurt when she realized that I was your girlfriend?"

"She looked hurt?" There was mostly surprise in his question, but there was also something that felt like a brick in her stomach: hope.

"Yes, she did."

Patrick swallowed hard before shrugging. "Nah, she's just used to being the only woman in my life. She's really possessive. She'll get over it."

Joy wasn't sure it was just that, but decided to let it go for now. "Want to come back to my place?" she asked him.

He smiled and kissed her. "I am really sorry about dinner."

"I know," she sighed. Then something caught Patrick's attention.

"I can't believe her car's here. What is she still doing here?"

"Who?" Joy asked him, already knowing the answer.

"Lisbon." He looked at the clock. "It's 10.30. Damn woman." He looked into Joy's eyes and said in a serious tone, "Please don't read too much into this. I'm just going to kick her out of the office. She works too hard and she needs someone to get her to go home sometimes."

"Fine," Joy said, feeling like there wasn't really anything else she could say. As she watched Patrick run to the building, she felt like pouting. She hated that he was pretending that nothing was going on between him and his boss. It made her feel like she was making it up out of irrational jealousy. She wasn't the jealous type. She really wasn't.

After about ten minutes, she saw two people come out of the building. There was easiness between them. She saw Lisbon laugh at a joke Patrick made. She sobered up when they approached Joy's car. Patrick got in and Lisbon caught the door, leaving it open as she stooped down to look at Joy.

"Sorry for interrupting your date. Maybe you can teach him to mind his own business. God knows I've tried," she said, smiling at her.

"No problem," Joy answered. "He was right to make you leave. It's really late."

"I get caught up," Lisbon explained, shrugging. She turned her attention to Patrick. "Have a good weekend, ok?" He nodded and waved goodbye as Lisbon closed the door for him. She waved at them as Joy drove off. She was standing right under a light, so Joy couldn't mistake the look on Lisbon's face. In reality, Joy was pretty sure she could have easily guessed the look on Lisbon's face even if it had been pitch black.

Teresa Lisbon was heartbroken.


All weekend Joy was upset. It's not that she would let Patrick go. She cared about him too and he had obviously said more than once that he wasn't interested in his boss. And he had been the one to ask Joy out, not the other way around.

Nevertheless, a woman was hurting because of her relationship with Patrick and that didn't please her.

Obviously, Patrick knew right away that Joy wasn't feeling well. He didn't say anything until lunchtime on Sunday though.

"You've been moody all weekend. What's the matter?"

"Nothing."

"Please," Jane said. "I know when something's wrong."

"You don't want to talk about it," Joy pointed out.

"I don't want to talk about..." Patrick trailed off and then said, "Oh," when he realized what she was talking about.

"Right. 'Oh'," Joy repeated. "Why do you dismiss the poor woman like that?" He was the one who opened the can of worms, not her. He shouldn't have pried.

"I do not dismiss Lisbon," he said defensively.

"You deny she has feelings for you!"

"I don't. Her feelings are just... misgusided," he explained.

"Misguided? What is that supposed to mean?" She hated when he was cryptic like this.

"Lisbon doesn't really realize who I am. She has this image of me that's false. You know who I am. You've been through something like what I've been through. We make sense. Lisbon and I don't."

Joy was furious. Beyond furious. "That's why we're together? Because my husband was killed? Do you even like me for who I am?"

"Of course. Joy, don't read that much into it. I'm just saying that you understand me in a way that Lisbon never will."

Joy looked at him square in the eye. "Answer me this: do you have feelings for her?"

"It would never work..." he began to say, but Joy interrupted him.

"I asked if you had feelings for her. Yes or no?"

He looked away and didn't say anything. That was enough for her.

"Please leave," she told him firmly. He looked at her then, but she remained unmoved. She had to stay strong. She would not be second best. She had been through enough in her life to accept that.

Patrick sighed and walked out of her apartment. She watched him slowly walk away. Only when he was out of sight did she realize that his car was at the CBI. She went out in search for him. She had no idea in which direction he had been walking after she had lost sight of him. After searching for him for almost twenty minutes, she spotted him, standing by a lamppost. She swiftly walked towards him and was about to make her presence known when she saw a car slowing down next to him. The driver parked the car and got out. Teresa Lisbon.

Joy didn't exactly hide, she wasn't a Desperate Housewife after all, but she did press herself against the hedgerow, concealing her presence a little more. When she heard Lisbon speak, she realized that she was well within earshot of the two. She was really close to the pair and they really had to be in their own little world not to notice her.

"I was having a perfectly good Sunday and you had to go and ruin it," Lisbon told Patrick. Joy didn't have to be as perceptive as Patrick to know that Lisbon's entire body language was betraying her statement.

"Had a fight with Joy," he explained.

Lisbon tensed at the mention of Joy's name. Joy saw Lisbon force herself to relax. "You'll make up, no doubt," she reassured him. "Joy seems really nice." Joy felt that she was harboring a love/hate feeling for the CBI agent. She had class, that's for sure.

"I don't think so," Patrick replied, which confirmed Joy's own suspicions that there was no way Patrick would come crawling back.

"What did you fight about?" Lisbon asked, not only betraying her intimate friendship with Patrick, but also her partiality on the matter.

"You," he boldly answered.

Lisbon appeared shocked by his answer. "Me? What about me?"

"Doesn't matter," Patrick said, shrugging.

"Yes, it does. I don't want to be responsible for your break-up. Knowing you, you'll make sure to remind me every chance you get and I haven't done anything wrong." It obviously mattered to Lisbon and it also mattered to Joy.

Joy's heart ached when she saw Patrick leaning down to kiss his boss. Lisbon's first reaction was to pull away, but after a couple of seconds, she readily gave in and kissed him back. They hugged when they broke apart.

Joy heard Patrick say something in Lisbon's ear, but his voice was too low for Joy to hear. After a minute or two, Lisbon shook her head vehemently and said, "I don't care." She planted a kiss on his lips. "I thought I had lost you. Worse," she added, "I thought I never had you."

"You've had me for a really long time," he answered and Joy walked away, unable to hear anymore. It had been too much.

On Friday she had seen a brokenhearted Teresa Lisbon. Two days later, it was her turn to be heartbroken.


The End.

~o~

Author's Note: If there's interest, I might re-write this story twice: in Jane's point-of-view and in Lisbon's point-of-view. Hope you enjoyed.