Disclaimer: I do not own the mentalist or its characters :)

A/N: I apologise for any spelling errors, as my spell check is not working :(

Teresa surveyed herself in the mirror with vague distaste. Her entire body was encased in a frilly pink gown which was constraining and frankly ridiculous. It was bad enough that she would be expected to dance, but to do so whilst clothed in this monstrosity was an appalling idea. She could only imagine how much Jane would tease her. It wasn't for the first time that she envied his good fortune of having been born as a boy. It was Teresa's tenth birthday and she was to have a ball to mark the occasion, held within the palace and attended by many of the townsfolk and servants. Jane was to be there, as his father would be performing his magic tricks. Teresa's servant smiled at her, oblivious to her foul

mood.

"You look lovely Princess," she said and ignored Teresa's glare. She was used to the princesses moods and mostly dismissed them. As Teresa had been deemed too young to have her only Lady in Waiting, she was the servant who usually attended to the princess and she knew how much of a tomboy she was becoming. Surrounded mainly by boys and with virtually no female influences, she was practically one of the boys herself and cared for her younger brothers like a mother. Her father was still battling with the drink and Teresa made it her job to keep her brothers away from him as much as possible. Tommy, the oldest of the boys at seven, knocked on Teresa's door and walked in without waiting for a reply. He surveyed his sister with a look of pure horror.

"What are you wearing Rees? You look ridiculous!" The future king, Tommy could not have looked less like a leader. His brown hair fell into his eyes and he was missing his two front teeth. In his hand he held a book, for he was rarely found without one. He was clever and shy, a direct contrast to his younger brother Michael. Michael was five and a whirlwhind of mischief whom Jane delighted in corrupting. He was confident and smiley, but small for his age and carried a blanket around like Tommy carried his books. The youngest prince was only two and was all blonde curls and dimples, the carbon copy of his father in his heyday.

Teresa glared at her brother. "Get lost Tommy!"

The servant glared at her. "Princess," she chided, "You are a lady and you should speak as one."

"Fine," snapped Teresa, tossing her head and wishing for the millionth time that she were a boy "Would you kindly GET LOST!"

Tommy sniggered and sauntered out of the room. The servant turned to Teresa. "Princess, any more of this behaviour and you shalln't go to the ball this evening!"

Teresa mulled this over. It had failed to occur to her that misbehaviour could get her out of this and she wondered whether she would have time to get in enough trouble that the punishment would be enforced. She thought it unlikely, but decided to try. Mustering her best glare, she scowled darkly at the servant and tossed her head. "My name is Teresa!" she snapped, but the servant had already turned away and merely walked out of the room, leaving Teresa to her fate.

The ball would have been a source of great joy to most little girls, with the ballroom adorned in pink ribbon and an orchestra playing in the corner. There were magicians and jugglers and there was a great deal of excitement in the air, but Teresa felt none of it. She merely stood in a corner, scowling so darkly that none of the boys invited dared to ask her to dance. When Patrick and Charlotte arrived they made their way straight over to her.

"Hello Teresa," grinned Patrick. "I love your dress."

Teresa glared at him and his sister slapped his arm. "Stop it Patrick!" she ordered. "I think that you look lovely Teresa."

Teresa smiled, although she disagreed. She adored Charlotte and loved to see her boss Trick about. At sixteen, Charlotte was now seen as a Lady, but she was still as childish as her brother. They shared the same bright smile and blonde curls and Teresa couldn't help but think that the pink dress would have suited Charlotte far better than her. Charlotte did, however, look beautiful in light blue to match her eyes and it was barely a minute before a handsome young man had whisked her off to dance.

Patrick grinned at Teresa. "Shall we?" he asked, holding out his hand.

"Dance? With you?" Teresa looked as though she would rather have her nails removed one by one and Jane choked back a laugh at the sight of her face.

"You're going to have to dance at some point. You can't just hide in the corner all night. It may as well be with me."

Teresa shrugged, unable to fault his logic and followed him onto the dance floor.

Once on the floor they found themselves surrounded by twirling couples, bright dresses swirling and twisting in dizzying patterns like butterflies or leaves in a breeze. Charlotte whirled past in the arms of a dashing young gentleman and smiled at them, before disappearing back into the ebb and flow of the crowd. Teresa found that she was beginning to enjoy herself. As Patrick was leading, she could merely relax and enjoy the twirling motion and pleasant music, even with the horror of her dress at the back of her mind. As though reading her thoughts, which knowing Jane was possible, even likely, he grinned cheekily at her.

"Your dress is definately eye catching. I'm not sure that I've ever seen such a pink dress before. It matches your cheeks." Teresa glared at him and moved slightly to stamp on his toe. She gazed up at him innocently. "I'm sorry, was that your toe?" she asked and he gave a mock scowl.

"So violent for a lady," he siad, knowing of course that this would annoy her.

She glared at him and would probably have given an angry retort had the bell not rung to summon the guests to the feast. Teresa was seated at the head of the table, something seen as a great honour, but as she was surrounded by adults, speaking of adultish things, she found it rather tedious. She and Patrick pulled faces at one another when no adults were looking, until Charlotte, noticing them and viewing herself as an adult and therefore responsible for ending such childish games, reprimanded Patrick in hushed tones. Angry at being criticized, a flush rose in his cheeks and he remained in sullen silence for the rest of the meal, without so much as catching Teresa's eyes. Annoyed at being igored, she vowed not to speak to him again until the ball was over, but he came over and apologized to her in such an imploring way that she gave in out of sympathy to him and deigned to talk to him again. By now it was late and Teresa was too tired to dance. Instead they walked through the gardens, their way lit by lanterns and fireflies that danced around their heads in whirling patterns, captivating Teresa, who was rarely allowed out after dark. She and Jane had settled on a low wall, for the dewy drass would be sure to stain her dress, when a small figure appeared, dragging a blanket behind him.

"Resa," said Michael, yawning. "I'm bored."

"So go to bed then," said Teresa, with all the sympathy and wisdom of an older sister. Michael shook his head defiantly.

"I'm not tired," he said, displaying a little of his sister's stubborness even with his bleary eyes.

Jane chuckled, recognising his friend in her sibling and being amused by the resemblance.

"Hey Michael," he said, "Why don't you sit on Teresa's lap and I'll show you a magic trick."

Michael obliged, snuggling down on his sister's knee, surrounded by the many folds and frills of her skirt.

Patrick took a coin out of his pocket and twirled it deftly between his fingers. He clapped his hands and opened them, showing that the coin had gone. Then he reached behing Michael's ear and pulled out the coin. Michael giggled and clapped. "Again!" he implored.

Patrick repeated the trick several times, until Michael no longer reacted, his breathing slowed and he let out the occasional, whistling snore.

"He's asleep," whispered Teresa. Jane reached out and lifted the small boy out of her arms. They walked back into the Palace and handed him to a servant, before heading back into the hall. Jane's father was astounding crowds with his magic tricks, but Lisbon couldn't help but think that she preferred Patrick's, although his so called 'mind reading' unnerved he a little and she refused to let him teach it to her brothers. It was bad enough to have a best friend who could read your mind, but to have little brothers who could do so did not bear thinking about. As the night ended Teresa said goodbye to Patrick and Charlotte and realised that the night had not been as bad as she had expected.