Author's notes:

Thank you to great writers and friends Sue Shay and make-mine-a-kiaora for their read-throughs and the opportunity to learn from them. I've favorited both of them in my profile and encourage you to read their stories.

I do not own the TV show The Mentalist or I Dream of Jeannie and get no compensation from it. This story is written purely for entertainment purposes only.

Chapter 10: I Don't Have To Be Me 'Til Monday

In a few moments, the Director's door slammed shut on Teresa Lisbon's face. Teresa, Virgil Minelli, and Dennis Abbott all stood in the hallway again. The two men looked as bewildered as she felt.

"What was that about?" asked Abbott.

"It makes no sense, Dennis," said Virgil as he scratched his head. "Teresa saved all of us. We wouldn't be here without her heroics. You and I both know that."

Abbott sighed.

"Agreed. What the Director said was bizarre, but I've still got to follow orders." The general looked at Teresa. "I'm sorry, Major. I have to supervise your moving out of your office."

"Understood, sir," she said. Really though, she didn't understand anything about what happened.

For the rest of her day, Teresa Lisbon moved in a daze. When she and Abbott got to her office, she grabbed some empty boxes and began packing her things. While fighting the emotions that threatened to overwhelm her, they boxed her belongings and loaded them in Abbott's car in a pouring rain.

Driving to the edge of the GSA complex, they passed by all the launch buildings, training grounds, and landing fields she had come to know well. Teresa stared out of the passenger side window as raindrops pelted the windshield. The gray sky matched her mood, and Abbott was smart enough not to say anything until they reached a small tin-roofed, pre-fab structure at the far end of the complex.

"Major Lisbon? This is Annex Q."

Teresa shook out of her daze, nodded, and walked in with Abbott. Once inside, a young man speaking in a voice that cracked with insecurity rose from his desk to meet them.

"Major Lisbon. My name's Henry. I'm your assistant. Don't worry, most of the time we don't have much to do around here. Things only get hectic when a spacecraft returns, and then we've got to hurry to clear out all the waste from the refuse tanks. If you'll pardon me using some coarse language, everyone calls it shoveling…"

"I know what they call it," said Teresa, cutting him off.

"Ma'am, when I heard you were coming, I got some office supplies together for you. Now you've got everything except a stapler."

"A stapler?" Teresa asked.

"Yeah, the one we had was busted. I've called Sargent Phelps about going by the warehouse to get you a new one. You should have it by next Tuesday."

"That's nice of you to do that, Henry."

"Yes, ma'am. Normally it would take longer, but we're cutting through all the normal red-tape since it's for you," said Henry.

With the help of both Henry and General Abbott, Teresa got everything squared away in twenty minutes. Once they finished, Teresa looked around at her new office - a metal desk with a streak of rust running up one leg, a vinyl chair with some foam spilling out from a gash in seat, and a bulletin board with a yellowed 10-year-old poster about recycling tacked to it.

"Major Lisbon?"

Teresa turned her attention to the general.

"According to the orders I have, you're not supposed to report to work until Monday. If you'd like, I'll give you a lift back to your car," said Abbott.

Teresa nodded.

"Ma'am, it was good meeting you," said Henry. "And don't you worry. By Tuesday, well, uh, by Wednesday at the latest, we'll have that stapler for you. I'll make sure of that."

"You're very kind, Henry," she said.

Teresa and Abbott drove in silence back to her car. Once there, she bid goodbye and started to get out. Abbott grasped her arm before she could exit.

"Major Lisbon, I'm concerned about this situation. Minelli is too. While you were getting situated, he and I talked. We're going to do some investigating."

Still numb from all that had happened, she nodded.

"Thank you, sir."

"In the meantime, you should go home and try to relax. We'll be in touch."

The ride home differed so much from that morning. Instead of an outlook that could float across a spring breeze, now a mix of despair, gloom, and anger poisoned her soul. Her body hunched over toward the steering wheel and her foot felt almost too weak to press against the accelerator pedal. Her normal short trip between work and home seemed to stretch into an eternity.

When Teresa got home, she wanted to go inside, shut the door, and retreat from a world she no longer understood. No such luck though. The two cars parked in front of her house meant that solitude would elude her. The Rigsby's minivan and Cho's Jeep signaled that they'd already heard the news.

Walking in, she beheld the long faces of everyone - Grace, Wayne, Kimball…and her genie. At least Patrick is wearing jeans and a sports jacket, thought Teresa as spied him. She saw Grace glance at Patrick then nod toward Teresa, a silent confirmation that her genie still hadn't revealed who he really was to the men.

Grace moved quickly across the floor to envelope Teresa in a hug. The others walked over to pat her on the back as tears began to fall from her eyes.

"We couldn't believe what the Director did to you. He's wrong about you. We all know it." Grace squeezed her tight as she spoke.

"It's total bullsh…" said Wayne but he couldn't finish his thought.

"Something's really messed up," said Kimball.

Teresa pushed back from her friends and wiped her eyes with her sleeve.

"You don't need to be around me. I'm bad luck. Steer clear," Teresa said.

"We don't believe that for a minute," said Grace.

"Come with us. We're going over to O'Malley's for a beer. You'll feel better. You and Patrick can go dancing there," said Wayne.

Teresa shook her head.

"You guys go on. I need to be alone."

Now she felt another set of arms envelope her.

"I'm so sorry. Please let me comfort you," said Patrick.

At that point, Teresa remembered what the Director had said to her about the "crazy man." She would always regret the next words that came out of her mouth, but the anger that bubbled up inside her exploded.

"Patrick Jane, you just add to my problems. It's bad enough to get blamed for mistakes on the job. You've ruined my private life too."

"You can't mean that," he said.

"I can and I do. I wish you were out of my life."

"No! Please don't say that, Teresa."

Teresa scanned the sheepish faces of the others.

"You know what? I don't want to go out tonight. But you go, Patrick. You go out drinking with your new buddies. Just don't come back."

"Teresa, I just want to be with you," said Patrick.

"But I don't want to be with you. All you do is cause trouble,"

"You can't really think that,"

Teresa shook her index finger at Patrick.

"Don't you dare tell me what I can and cannot think." She spat out her words, not caring what the others thought. "I want you to go out and leave me alone." She saw him start to speak up but waved him off. "You're going with them to O'Malley's, and you're going to dance with the first woman who asks you. Forget about me. Do you understand?"

"No, I don't understand."

Teresa crossed her arms.

"Let me make this clear. I wish you to forget about me. Now go."

Patrick hung his head low.

"Yes, Teresa."

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Grace motion for the boys to take Patrick on while she stayed behind. Once the men closed the door behind them, Grace wheeled around to face Teresa, her eyes on fire.

"What was that all about?"

"My life is a shambles, and according to the Director, some 'crazy man' contributed to my downfall. Any guesses about who he meant?"

"Minelli told us about the meeting. He says something's not right."

"I'll tell you what's not right. Having a genie disrupt my life is not right."

Grace grabbed Teresa's arm.

"Sure Patrick has made some mistakes, but he's made you happier than you've ever been since I've known you."

"But, but."

"No buts, Teresa. You know I'm right. And what did you do to him?"

She didn't want to answer, but Grace's insistent tone compelled her to.

"I-I-I pushed him away."

"Did you see the look his face as he walked out the door? You tore his heart in two," said Grace.

"But he's turned my life topsy-turvy since I found him."

"He's the best thing that's ever come into your life. And now that you're at a low point and he wants to do nothing more than comfort you, what did you do?"

"I-I-I sent him away."

"Yeah. But not only that, you told him to…"

Teresa slumped.

"I told him to dance with the first woman who asked him and to forget me. I wished him to." Teresa grabbed Grace's arm as the gravity of what she said dawned on her. "I've got to get to Patrick before it's too late. Take me to O'Malley's."

When Teresa and Grace got to O'Malley's, they found a full-house. People even spilled out onto the sidewalk in front waiting to get in. When the two women approached the bouncer at the door, his mouth fell into an "O" shape when he recognized them.

"Please enter, ladies," he said as he stepped aside for them.

Once inside, the two women craned their necks to peer out over the crowd. Teresa strained to see any familiar face. Since Grace was taller, she had a better view and in a few moments grasped Teresa's elbow.

"I see Wayne and Kimball at a table in the corner."

"Lead on," said Teresa as both hope and fear welled in her heart.

What Teresa saw when they got over to the small circular table were two glum men sitting on stools. Beside them was a third vacant stool.

"Where's Patrick?" Teresa asked.

"He left," said Kimball.

Hope surged inside Teresa.

"We like your new friend. You shouldn't have told him off like that," said Wayne. "He's a good guy."

"I know. I came to apologize. Do you know where he went off to?"

Kimball pointed to the dance floor.

"Yeah. He's out there. Erica Flynn came over and pulled him away from us."

Now fear surged inside Teresa. Almost afraid to look, she scanned the dance floor. Then she froze. Holding each other, Patrick and Erica twirled around faster and faster.

"No!" Teresa's scream reached above the thud-thud-thud of the rhythm of the music. Her arms waving in the air, she ran forward. "Patrick."

Turning his head away from Erica, Patrick's gaze met Teresa's. Was she too late? Had he followed her last wish? Had he forgotten her? After a moment's hesitation, he yelled.

"Teresa." His voice cut through the din of noise.

At the same time Patrick called out to her, he released his grasp of Erica. The woman flew through the air, hurtling above the other dancers on the floor. Thwap. Erica's backside slammed against the far wall, and she sagged butt-first into a trash can. Her arms flailing, she tipped the can over and her body tumbled out, covered in stale beer, half-eaten pretzels, and globs of nacho cheese. Teresa heard him call out to the woman.

"Uhhh, sorry, Erica. Gotta go. Enjoyed the dance," Patrick said as he ran over to Teresa.

When he got over to her, he broke into a smile which prompted Teresa to return one of her own.

"You remembered who I am," she said.

He got a sheepish look on his face.

"I'm a defective genie. I guess I can't obey everything you tell me to do. There was no way I was ever going to forget you, no matter what you told me to do."

Teresa reached over to stroke his chin.

"I was wrong," she said.

"Please don't ever tell me to do that again. I hated every minute of that," he said, motioning over his shoulder at Erica as the woman, her clothes in tatters, stumbled toward the exit. "I don't want to dance with anybody but you. I don't want to be with anybody but you."

"I won't do that again," she said. "I wish you to blink us home right now."

"With pleasure."

Boink.

Teresa found that now they stood in the middle of her living room. She placed her hands on his chest.

"I don't start my new assignment until next week," Teresa said. "I don't have to report to anyone, I don't have to do anything, I don't have to conform to anyone else's dictates. I don't have to be me again until Monday."

"So what are you saying, Teresa?" asked Patrick.

"This weekend I don't want to be Major Teresa Lisbon."

"Oh?"

"This weekend, I just want us to be Patrick and Teresa."

"Really?" asked Patrick as his eyes widened.

"Really. It's your choice. I give you permission to do whatever you want to…"

Teresa didn't get to finish what she was saying thanks to Patrick's lips covering hers. His arms encircled her, and he pulled her close while he deepened their kiss. For her part, Teresa draped her arms around his shoulders and matched his passion. In fact, she didn't say anything else for a long, long time…

Boink.

To be continued

Author's notes:

Thank you for reading the story, and I'd love to hear from you.

R.C. Bannon, Jason Young, and Steve Azar wrote "I Don't Have To Be Me ('Til Monday), and Azar recorded it for his album Waitin' On Joe. Want to find out more about the songs used as chapter titles? Check out my Twitter account - "TheCRRelic"

Up next: "All Over the Road." Special note: For a long time, I've wanted to write a Jane-and-Lisbon scene in a story based on the lyrics of the song "All Over the Road," and that's coming up in the next chapter. If you're familiar with the song, you can already picture what happens.