A/N: Thanks to everyone who reviewed the last chapter. I'll be sure to answer your reviews as soon as I can. And thanks to the guest reviewers as well, since I can't respond to directly, just wanted to let you know that your reviews made my day. Hope you enjoy chapter 2!


Consequences

Jane rolled over, grabbed his pillow and fluffed it before shoving it under his head again…cool side up. He couldn't sleep, no matter how hard he tried, but perhaps that was the problem—he was trying. His mind was too busy thinking and over-thinking everything that had been said between himself and Lisbon.

She'd always been honest with him, even to a fault. When she thought he was being a prick she had never failed to tell him, to call him out. No one had ever called him out on anything, including his wife. Angela had always been too kind for that, a softie, a pushover. Lisbon wasn't like that, she was a take no prisoners kind of a gal. As much as he loved and missed his wife's gentility, Lisbon's blunt morality was something he craved. It was her words that had kept him going through the years—that had kept him…honest.

He also thought about other things… things he'd always repressed before, things that felt as knew to him as her candor had once felt. Things he shouldn't be thinking of now—like the way her voice had pitched up when she'd told him she didn't care about what he thought, the way she'd flushed, how her pulse had raised when her hand had been in his grasp, how her delicate hands had made tight fists before she'd walked off, and the way her hips had swung side to side at her retreat.

His entire body warmed. He threw his sheets off and shut his eyes tight, then imagined crumpling up the image of her walking off, like a piece of paper and throwing it into the distance. She'd been his colleague, friend all these years and not too long ago he'd started thinking that maybe there was something more, he just wasn't sure how to confront it. Of course he had tried somewhat successfully to suppress all those feelings the moment Pike had come into the picture. He couldn't understand what had changed so drastically in their short conversation tonight that suddenly made her impossibly alluring, made it impossible to repress.

He sat up in his bed with an impulsive idea and before he knew it he was standing in the living room of his Airstream, in his pajama bottoms and t-shirt, flipping through channels. He needed to test his theory. He stopped anytime he saw a woman that he supposed was attractive. He found an action movie with a leggy brunette in it and stopped. She was tackling someone. It seemed so histrionic and ridiculous in comparison to the times he'd seen Lisbon do it. Lisbon wasn't catlike like they tried to make the actress look. Lisbon was brutal, not showy, rough not sleek. She went in for the kill and that was that.

He started flipping through the channels again, this time stopping on a cop show he couldn't remember the name of. A beautiful blonde woman was questioning a suspect. It again seemed so fake, so trivial in comparison to the real deal that was Lisbon. He let his head drop into his hands—his head hit the remote with a clunk and he cringed.

This was getting him nowhere. He'd had relationships since his wife had died. Admittedly none of them had lasted long, none of them had been anything more than a slight stirring of emotions, a little bit of fun, and then sentiments he couldn't return. It wasn't that he'd didn't want to return them, he'd just been…incapable. And then he'd come back to the States, found Lisbon and suddenly there wasn't anyone who even appealed to him on any level. He'd been so wrapped up in being with her again that it hadn't even occurred to him to look at any other woman, unless he thought it could solve a case.

His wedding band felt suddenly very heavy on his finger. He lifted his hand to get a better look. It was growing duller every year and he'd let it, but it still keenly reminded him of the emotions attached to it; of Angela.

He moved to his plush beige couch and plopped down on it. He turned off his TV, after losing interest in his idea, and threw the remote to the right of him. He rested his head against the couch back and tried to recall her face: light skin, fawn colored hair, hazel eyes. He knew what he should be seeing but the most he could bring to his mind was a picture he'd taken of her two years before her death. A picture he kept in the nightstand next to his bed.

He closed his eyes and began twisting his wedding band around his finger. Angela… He desperately tried to recall a smile, a chuckle, a caress, but they were all lost to him. He lifted his head from the couch, then lifted his hands and removed the ring. He spun it around in his fingers looking at it from every angle. Had Lisbon been right? Was this little piece of metal, the only thing he had left of his wife, his excuse to be unhappy?

"Patrick," a small voice wafted through his apartment just as his cell phone began to ring. He stood up, gripping his ring in his hand, and ran back to his bedroom. He picked his cell phone up off his nightstand where he'd left it reading the caller ID quickly before answering and couldn't help the smile that crossed his face when he saw it was Lisbon.

"Lisbon," he went for exasperation, "it's twelve-thirty at night, can't someone else…"

"Now, now Mr. Jane," a man with a husky tone said, "crime never sleeps so why should you?"

Jane felt a sinking sensation in his stomach. Something was wrong. Lisbon would never give her phone to anyone. "Who is this?"

A chuckle sounded through the phone causing the hair to rise on the back of his neck. "You don't recognize my voice." The man feigned offense. "Don't worry, you will."

"What do you want?" Jane's voice was low and threatening.

Whatever you choose, there will be consequences. The thought popped into his head so suddenly it made him feel instantaneously cold, he felt as though he lost time, and almost forgot what was happening. He sat his wedding band gently down on his bedside table almost without noticing.

"I want you to face the consequences of your actions," the man on the phone told him pulling him forcefully from his thoughts and back to the world.

He moved into action, going to his closet in a single stride and opened it quietly. He pulled out his suit and the socks Lisbon had given him, pleased to note that they had dried since he'd washed them earlier that evening. "How do you intend to accomplish that?"

"I want to have fun with you—play a game if you will."

Jane felt his brow furrow as he kicked his pajama bottoms off and stepped into his slacks. "What kind of a game?" he asked.

"If I tell you now it'll ruin the fun later." Rushing sounds came through the phone muffling the man's voice.

"Where does Agent Lisbon come into play?" Jane asked pointedly while buttoning up his shirt. He heard a deep breath on the other end of the line and got the distinct feeling that he'd somehow annoyed the man.

"Very good Mr. Jane," the man said after a moment, "already paying attention." A clicking sound came from the man. "You'll need every gray cell if you want to see your partner again," he said trying to hide the angry tone in his voice. "Either way, by the end of our game she'll be a scoop and run case or dead." His voice lightened considerably; Jane's blood ran cold.

Jane sat on the edge of his bed and pulled his socks on. "You have her then?" he asked evenly despite the fact that he felt like throwing up. "You're going to have to prove it to me." He reached for his shoes under his bed and slipped them on. "Hello?"

He pulled the phone away from his ear and looked at the screen, it was black. He stood up, grabbed his jacket sliding it on, then grabbed his ring and his keys from his nightstand before leaving his room. He lifted his phone again and made the call.


Lisbon could feel shivers running up and down her body. She felt cold, but the shivers weren't from the temperature of the room. She knew they were from the drugs in her system. Her eyes fluttered open and she felt relieved that her vision was no longer blurred. She looked around her surroundings taking everything in. The room was lit by bulbs swinging from the ceiling, the floor was cement, there was a small table next to the bed and she was lying on a gurney with an I.V. drip attached to her arm. She jumped instinctively when she saw fluid dripping down the tube and into her body. It was only then that she realized that she was no longer tied down.

Her right arm reached over to her wrist and yanked the needle out, before chucking it across the room. The drip went with it and hit the far wall with a clink before dropping to the floor. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to fight the sudden wave of nausea she felt coming on. She sat up and took several deep breaths, wishing she'd paid more attention when Jane had tried to show her breathing exercises a few months back.

"I told you to listen to me," Jane reprimanded, "that you might need these exercises one day—but no, you thought it'd be a better use of your time to ignore me and bore yourself to death with case files instead."

Her eyes popped open and she looked around the room trying to find him. He wasn't there. She was hearing things. The drugs were stronger than she'd thought. She took a couple more calming breaths then forced herself into a sitting position while swinging her legs off the gurney. The room started to spin, but she forced herself to ignore it. She slid slowly to the floor until her feet hit the cement with a small click from her boots. She cringed at the sound.

She was sure it sounded louder than it really was, but she didn't want to attract attention. Still if her kidnapper had wanted her to stay he would have kept her tied down, wouldn't he have?

"He can't hear you," Jane's voice sounded through the room again. "He's busy scheming elsewhere."

She looked around again, but knew she wouldn't see him. She shook her head lightly, then slowly allowed all of her weight onto her legs. She stood to her full height but wasn't ready for the suddenness of it and wobbled before falling back onto the gurney. She closed her eyes again.

"Take it easy there Speedy Gonzales," Jane told her through a small chuckle. "I like that…Speedy. It has a double meaning right now."

Lisbon kept her eyes closed—tried to ignore the impulse she had to roll her eyes. Of all the things she could be hallucinating right now, it seemed somewhat ironic that it had to be her eccentric partner. She wondered if she should be worried that it was Jane and not Marcus. Marcus was her boyfriend after all, but then again she'd been working with Jane for over a decade.

"Why are you trying to ignore me?" he asked.

She took a deep breath. He obviously wasn't going anywhere. "Because you're not real," she told him, feeling immediately ridiculous for speaking to her hallucination.

"I'm pretty sure I am?" he told her with a patronizing gaze as he patted himself for emphasis.

He's even snarky in my mind, she thought. She shook her head. "No…you're not. You're just a figment of my imagination, or a dream maybe." She shivered at the thought. Maybe she wasn't even really awake.

"Lisbon," his voice was so close. She squeezed her eyes shut even tighter. "Lisbon, open your eyes."

His voice was so kind, so concerned that she couldn't help but to do exactly as she was told. Her eyes opened slowly and Jane came into perfect view. Golden curly hair, blue eyes, tan skin, and a few wrinkle lines around his eyes which were not at all indicative of his forty-four years and were the only signs of the wear and tear on his body from his incredibly difficult life. He was wearing his suit as usual with his new favorite accessory—her socks, she really needed to buy him some more, and he even smelled just like himself: a mixture of men's shampoo and tea. She licked her lips, suddenly realizing how thirsty she was. It was a sensory overload that made her immediately panic. She pushed herself up the blue silicone covered gurney and away from what she was now sure was a full-fledged hallucination.

"Holy crap!" she yelped.

He smiled at her and that was the last straw, because even his smile was perfectly him. He pulled a hand from his pocket and reached out to her, but she leaned away from his touch. His smile dropped at her reaction. She closed her eyes and shook her head trying to get rid of him. He was attacking every one of her senses bar touch and she wasn't about to let him take that over too. Besides, they weren't touchers, she and Jane just didn't touch, much...

"Lisbon, I'm not going to hurt you," he said sounding wounded.

Her stomach began to twist. She stopped shaking her head and made eye contact before moving even further up the gurney. "Are you…real?"

She wasn't sure she really wanted to know the answer, but she asked it anyway. She did want him with her a little bit, but if he was really here he'd be in danger and she definitely didn't want that. She had, after all, spent years saving him from life and death situations, angry cops, angry higher ups, angry criminals and even a self-loathing Jane. The last thing she wanted was for him to die after all the effort she'd put into keeping him alive, in one piece and in his job. Besides, if she did die here, he'd be the one to figure out who'd done it.

He lowered his hand. "I…," his eyes narrowed as he considered what to say, "I don't know. I think I am." He was being honest. He was an amazing liar, better than anyone she'd ever met, but over the years she'd learned some of the signs of his honesty and right now he was being honest. Then again he was a hallucination and there was no telling what imagined Jane might get over on her.

He watched her intently for a moment before speaking again. "I know this is strange, but I need you to focus for a minute. Do you think you can do that for me?"

She nodded, her head felt light, the room was still spinning a little. She wasn't going anywhere until the world stayed under her feet, so there really wasn't any good reason not to do what he asked.

"Can you tell me where you are? Or who has you?" he asked intently.

She thought about it for a moment, then shook her head. "I don't remember seeing anything outside of this room. I was almost to my car when I felt an electric pulse go through my body, then someone knocked me unconscious and I woke up here."

His face dropped and he looked as though he felt…guilty? He took a step closer to the gurney, but this time she no longer felt a need to back away. "What else?"

"It was a man who took me," she offered feeling suddenly very lame. So much for my prime detective skills.

"I already know that, you have to give me something I don't know."

She searched her mind, but the past couple of hours had all been a blur. The only thing she really remembered was Angela, but she was hardly going to tell Jane that his dead wife had paid her a visit in her drug induced state. Even if she had been a hallucination and even if he was a hallucination, which seemed more and more realistic at this point. She just couldn't do it. It was just way too…sorted. Besides thinking about how she'd explain a hallucination to a hallucination made her head ache.

"Wait, I think…" she searched. It was exhausting.

He reached toward her again, but stopped abruptly when she flinched. "What?"

She tried to ignore how close he'd come to touching her and told him what she'd remembered. "He was wearing a medical mask and scrubs, he knew how to stick an IV in my arm, and his fingers are rough. He acted very familiar with me and he talked about you. He knows us. He's angry with us," she told him. "He also said something about a 'fun house'."

His smile returned full force and she couldn't help but to return it. His smiles were always contagious.

"Good girl," he said. The pride radiating off him made her slightly infuriated. She was a cop after all, a damned good one too. Still, he'd rarely ever looked at her like that before. It made her stomach flip.

The door swung open and Lisbon found herself unexpectedly tied back down to the gurney. She'd never been free, it had all been a hallucination.

"Oh good, you're awake," the man in question said and his words were very rapidly followed by a clicking sound from deep in his throat.


A/N: If you haven't checked out the Save The Mentalist campaign, please check it out. It's at: savementalist. tumblr

I also made a video for the Save The Mentalist campaign that you should check out at: www. youtube watch?v=DKoKwLpuM7s (Let's save our show!)

And finally if you enjoy my stories you might want to check out my blog at: emilycswrite. blogspot (I have an article about The Mentalist there and will be posting another about The Mentalist shortly.)

Just remove the spaces when you check them out.

Reviews are always appreciated. :)