I confess, I was supposed to do some homework today, but the weather was so great outside I couldn't resist any longer! I took my laptop and ended writing the second chapter in the garden. However, true to my previous 'self-promise' I'll be in revisions for my soon-to-be upcoming exams (huge sigh). So in the meantime, here's chapter 2. (not sure I'm making much sense here =o=")

Thanks to Sam, H, tigerlily124 (Jane's no slave, sorry. He's already kinda in another of mine xD) Mosie (awww thank you o**o), dogeatdog (keeps your hopes up, I hate unhappy endings), NellietheMarvelous (No kidding I squealed when I read your review(s) I felt so flattered! Mom thought there was another spider in my room–we have them real big and black -XD) for their reviews!!!

So, hope I'll keep up and you'll like what will be following

Still the same warnings:

Warning 1: you don't like AU and Mentalist together? give it a try, younever know ;)

Warning 2: my English grammar isn't the best. I voice it better than I write it. Hope you'll still enjoy (won't blame you if you don't :))


Slave

2.

When the occasion was brought up by a clumsy move of Riddle, she grabbed it instantly.

All morning, Teresa had to endure the non-stopping chatting; middle-class ladies and men, squints squeaking about how to domesticate non obedient slaves, and upper-classes looking for a good bargain. She was eyed a few times by different clients and all scared them off by grimacing, insulting or threatening them. Those people were nothing but cowards, she thought bitterly. She wouldn't let any of them buy her.

Two hours later, Elias had come back to her and ordered to Riddle to move her away, tired of her uncooperative behaviour. The assistant had opened the lock and dragged her out of her cage, bringing her biting and kicking further away from the shopping part to another cell, smaller this time. When he locked it, he dropped the key within her reach, and more important, didn't notice it. As soon as he had his back turned, Teresa had grabbed it and got it hidden under some dirt.

A quick glance around informed her of the presence of a door half hidden by some furniture. She remembered that some privileged people entered that way. Her thoughts were roughly interrupted when Elias entered whip in hands; looking forwards to use it on her.

"You are so going to regret making me loose my clients, Teresa" he whispered threateningly. "Because of you, three of my best buyers swore to never put their feet back in here."

"Maybe they just realised what you are really" she replied dryly. "A crazy, ugly, greedy and con man, whose only pleasure is to see people suffering!"

The Manager halted and glared at her. Shivers ran down her spin, and she stepped back as far as she could.

"People suffering you say? Every single man, woman or child here was bought because people can't make a way out of their miserable lives. Even you…" he stopped talking, and a slight smirk grew on his lips. "Oh, I see. You are still in denial."

Teresa held her chin up and stared back.

"In denial of what?"

"You can't resolve yourself to believe that your own father sold you to me in the most legitimate way possible."

Her blood froze. His words pierced her like daggers, and her eyes started burning from rage.

"SHUT UP!" she yelled, running to the bars, her hands tightly gripping them. "I forbid you!"

The man snarled and laughed sharply, amused.

"Yeah, that's it. I knew you were still thinking your family didn't abandon you by choice."

"They didn't! Father would have never done this to…"

A slash and the whip hit her fingers. She jumped back and yelped, bringing her hands close to her chest.

"Your father sold you because you reminded him too much of your dead mother, dear child" Elias retorted, still smirking. "You're pretty you know? I was lucky to get you at such a low price."

"You're lying" she hissed, rubbing her hurt hands. "I know he wouldn't."

Brad Elias shrugged. The door opened behind him and Riddle popped his head in.

"Hum…sir? A client is asking for you. He doesn't want to deal with me."

Elias groaned in disappointment and tied the whip back at his belt. He glared at the young woman, promising he'd come back for her, sooner than later. After that, he left the room; Riddle closely following behind.

Alone. She was finally alone. Teresa allowed herself to breathe a few seconds, and hearing no noise behind the door, dug out the key. Very carefully, she stretched her arm out of the cage and twisted it enough to get the locker. She put the key in and turned it slowly and the most silently she could. She heard the 'click' of unlocking and her heartbeats accelerated in seconds. The silence around was piercing her ears when her shaky hands pushed the barred door open. Every sound, from the light creaking of the hinges, her own breath, the creasing of her clothes, every sound was amplified. She took another few seconds and forced herself to calm down. Now, she had to move quickly. Elias could come back in the room anytime and notice she was about to…

There was a loud 'snap' and a man appeared in the doorframe. Teresa froze on spot like a dear caught by a hunter.

"Hey, what do you think you're doing!"

For some reason, Riddle had come back, and right now was her only chance to run away. Teresa dashed out of the room, opened the entrance she spotted earlier –luckily left opened- and rushed out in the half crowded streets. One single thought was occupying her head; if Elias caught her this time, no matter how 'pretty' she was, she would be digging her own grave the very evening.

--

The carriage stopped in front of the crowd, and the driver had to jump off and walk to the window of his client.

"'m sorry sir; 'can't go further down, too much people."

He watched cautiously the blond man dressed in smart clothing and more carefully his companion, a tall, well-built, brown-haired young man.

"Can't you?" the blond repeated with a small disappointed look. "Oh, well it seems that we'll have to go on by foot; what do you think Rigsby?" he added cheerfully when he spoke to the other man.

"I guess so, sir" the tall one responded reluctantly.

Both got out of the car. While Rigsby told the driver to wait for them or he'd get no tip, Patrick Jane took a look around, and grimaced slightly when he realized where they had stopped.

"Slave market" he snorted. "I hate this part of town"

He waited for Rigsby and they started to cross the crowd. The smell, the pushing and the calling of head merchants overheated him. The human despair exposed on shelves, the dead light in the eyes of the slaves-to-be made him feel ashamed of his siblings and wonder how humanity could fall so low.

"Even animals don't deserve to be treated like this" he muttered for himself. Rigsby heard him nevertheless, and replied on a soft tone:

"There's not much you can do, Mr. Jane. Too many people prefer slaves to servants since they aren't paid."

"I know" the blond sighed. "And to think slave merchants are a powerful branch in the politics, this is just disgust…"

He didn't end his sentence. A blur of dark hair and bad smell hit him full force, literally. He fell back on the ground, and found himself pinned on the dirty street by a body –a female body.

"Hey, get off!"

Rigsby grabbed the woman by the arm and pulled her off his master. Jane stood up, brushing away some dirt from his suit. He glared at the few people staring at the scene, hinting silently to pass their way.

"Are you oka…all right, sir?"

Jane nodded and took a closer look to the woman. She was struggling against Rigsby, trying to get rid of his hard grip off her. Dark hair in a mess; pale skin darkened by dirt; clothes in rags, barely covering her soft curvy and slender body…

"Lemme go asshole! You lemme go!" she went on shouting, but Rigsby didn't diminish his hold. She started kicking and biting him, even punched him in the nose with no result.

The collar around her neck caught Jane's attention. Damn.

She was a fugitive slave.

Before he could order Rigsby to let her go, a voice erupted:

"Hold her! Someone catch her!"

A man, all dressed up for appearances, was running towards them. Behind him, a guard carrying a spear was heavily panting. When both saw the young woman was caught, relief was reflected on both faces as they walked towards the two men.

"Greetings, sir. Sorry to bother you, but we were purchasing this slave…Thank you for catching her."

Jane simply stared furiously at the man. Superficial, arrogant and loving the powerful feeling working with slaves gave him. This pathetic figure loved his job too much, he thought. He wasn't so keen on giving her back, but it was the law. On his silent order, Rigsby handed the young woman back to the guard reluctantly. The soldier grunted as he forcefully pulled her arms in her back and tied her wrists.

"Thank you again sir" the man said, wiping out his forehead. "It would be a shame if one of them managed to escape from the Elias shelves…My name is Riddle, at your service."

But Jane wasn't listening to him. He was staring again at the woman who made him hit the ground after escaping and still trying to sneak out of the guard's hands. She couldn't be more than sixteen, eighteen top.

"What are you going to do with her?" he blurted out, his tone demanding a real answer.

"We'll…put her aside and try to correct that tendency to escape. I'm sorry for putting you into troubles sir…"

Jane ignored his statement and glanced at Rigsby. The tall man bent over and listened to whatever his master had to say:

"She had been whipped" the blond man murmured. "There are slashes on her hands, and her face has been bruised. Do you think they'll…"

He voluntarily left his sentence in suspend. The tall man whispered back in his ear:

"Indeed, they'll beat her to death. It's obviously not the first time she's trying and the Elias firm is well-known for the…obedience of their slaves. If she goes back, Elias will…break her resolve by any means, if he still intends to keep her alive. If someone doesn't get her out of there, she's as good as dead tonight."

Jane felt a shiver running down his spine. The thought of a woman being beaten slowly aroused disgust and despise in him. He had sworn to himself a long time ago he wouldn't allow it to happen again if he could prevent it. His eyes darkened as they met the young woman's one. She had the fierce expression of a wounded animal fighting for her life. She knew she was going to die if she was brought back –it was written all over her face. Yet she wasn't begging him to help her. Defiance, pride and fury were clouding her eyes; she was cursing him silently for preventing her escape. No doubt she would have managed to get out of town if she hadn't run right into him, he thought bitterly.

The young woman struggled again, growling and kicking. The guard held her neck tightly under the skull and she winced, eyes half-closed under the pain. In front of the two men apparent lack of reaction, Riddle decided to go after waving a polite good-bye.

Jane didn't hesitate one more second, and decided to follow his domestic's subtle hint.

"How much does she cost?"


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