I never have, currently don't and never will own The Mentalist characters. I'm not making nuthin' off these writings I'm posting.


Sorry, this is largely unedited. I'm running out of time.

Ooops... little time jump there... this is Teresa's POV during the shopping trip explaining why she's hanging on his arm (like "Ta MAR ah" in "Fugue in Red")

***SPOILER ALERT***

So sorry: it was brought to my attention that I've transgressed the written and unwritten law by stating what happened in There Will Be Blood. Try to skip over the bit marked as such. My sincerest apologies!


As he turned the cart down the candy aisle, she hesitated before following. She couldn't quite figure out what had changed.

Oh, he was just as sexy, just as playful, just as irreverent as he'd once been. As dismayed as she'd been that he was behind the threat to the Governor, she had to admit she really wasn't that surprised. A vague warning that someone knew exactly what the Governor was doing was nothing compared to stealing items from evidence lockup in order to make bad guys expose their guilt. Was there that much of a difference?

The little voice in her head that had kept her on the straight and narrow for the past forty years of her life screamed at her. Yes, there is. The latter was in service of justice so maybe a little rule-bending was in order. The former was so you would be free to spend the weekend in bed screwing. You're looking for an excuse to mix up another batch of Jane-flavored Kool-Aid.

The heat rose up her neck and into her face again, and she pursed her lips. It had been a helluva weekend, that was for certain. She'd had her experiences with one-night stands and even developed a few longer-term relationships that involved sex, but never before had she 'gone away' with a man. It was no surprise that Patrick did it right, sparing no effort and no expense. It couldn't be any clearer to her that this trip meant a lot to him. So maybe just a little sip of Kool-Aid was okay.

And it wasn't just sex. They could have done that in her apartment. Okay, yes, the sex was fantastic. As passionate as a meaningless fuck in the backseat of a Volkswagen while at the same time as tender and emotional as a gentle kiss in a fairytale. Only Patrick Jane could be both those extremes at the same time.

And only Patrick Jane would court her in that unique, elegant way that he approached all challenges. Start big and end bigger. Snowboarding lessons? Fondue in the penthouse restaurant? Hot stone massage? It was like he was building up the show for its grand finale.

When they first met, he was like the class clown that everyone knew had troubles with bullies after school. Occasionally, Teresa looked at him and even heard strains of that Smokey Robinson song about clowns only crying when there was no one around. When she got to know him better, she realized it was deeper than that. Not just sadness, but despair on the verge of actual madness. Somehow he was holding on, digging his heels in and refusing gravity, but slowly he was slipping into that dark pit beneath his toes.

And that disastrous interlude with Lorelei Martins! All that time holed up in his Aerie, making and reading lists. Creating charts. Examining his past ten years over and over again. Who could withstand that kind of self-scrutiny? Everyone does things he's not proud of, and for the sake of preventing insanity under the weight of guilt, everyone forgives and forgets his own transgressions. But not Patrick. In his desperation to catch Red John, he opened the book to his past and scrutinized every right and wrong move he'd ever made.

Including the first and second time he'd ingested poison. She almost slugged him the second time he'd done it, not sure if the expressed shame during his confession was real or not.

***SPOILER ALERT***

But come to think of it, that was when the first phase of change began. He withdrew from her, pushing her away, as though the drug-induced introspection had caused him to realize something unbearable about himself and his life. He pulled back from all the team for a while until Lorelei Martins completely betrayed him by not only refusing to tell him who Red John is but then trying to kill the man who could.

Then Red John killed her, and Patrick coldly, chillingly said she got what she'd deserved.

***SPOILER ALERT***

As suddenly as he had withdrawn, he was back. When he found out Grace was struggling with the memorization aspects of her class in Los Angeles, he drove all the way down to coach her on his memory palace techniques. When Cho began delving into a cold-case in San Francisco, Patrick volunteered to review the details with him. Cho asked why he was suddenly volunteering; the answer was simply that he wanted to be helpful. It led to a breakthrough in the case which was later solved.

She had no idea how he ended up helping Rigsby, but their relationship thawed suddenly. She suspected it had something to do with Van Pelt's return from L.A..

And with her? He spent less time in his Aerie and more time in her office. Chatting comfortably, like they did in the old days. Speculating about the rumored merger between CBI and Narcotics Enforcement. Talking about cases other units were working on. Debating whether or not Candy Peep Chicks had any actual flavor. Anything that came to mind. Like he'd decided that everything that had gone wrong in the last year no longer mattered.

She drank the Kool-Aid then too, never bringing up how hurt she'd been.

Then after a month he asked her to dinner and the jazz bar, and nothing was the same again.

She roused from her revelry to find him juggling three jars of caramel ice cream topping in his hands. Literally juggling them. Throwing them into the air and making them dance in a precise rhythm like a professional juggler would handle chainsaws.

"Oh, that has disaster written all over it," she said, woefully. "If you drop one, it's going to make a mess! Put those down!"

He stopped watching them, instead grinning at her as he placed them, rapid-fire, one, two, three, back on the shelf. Raising one eyebrow, he looked around for something else to juggle and spied the dark chocolate bars. Picking up four, he started again, making her giggle. It was impressive when he shot them one at a time into the cart.

"One only, bad boy," she said, removing three and handing them back to him. He pouted a little but nodded as he placed them where they came from. With a smirk, she added, "A man of many talents."

He glanced directly at the security camera domes in the ceiling before giving her a light peck on her lips. "I do try to keep you entertained, even when I'm being a bad boy." His voice was low and full of promise as he nuzzled her face for only a moment before moving away.

She thought her knees were going to give out.

God, he's so hot. I've had more sex in the past week than in the previous year and he's making me want him again.

Sometimes being a master manipulator was a good thing.

He smiled and offered his arm, which she took gladly, needing to hold herself up.

"Let's go make dinner," he said.


To be continued...