Saturday 18th July 1998:
On Saturday morning, Lisbon was woken up by the sound of a door slamming at the end of the corridor. With everything that had happened the previous night, she'd forgotten to set an alarm. She'd managed to sleep in until 10:30, but then she supposed she hadn't gotten home until late.
As with every morning, as soon as she got up, she went to the kitchen to make herself a coffee. She didn't have all that long before she'd need to leave to meet Patrick, that was if she decided to go at all.
Only a couple of months ago, she'd still been with Greg back in Chicago. The day she said goodbye to him and returned her engagement ring was still clear in her mind. She sincerely hoped he was okay but hadn't yet found the strength to call him to ask. With every day that passed, she was convincing herself further that it would be worse to reach out. That she'd only be opening a wound that had already started to heal.
She wondered what Greg would think of her now, going on a date with a near stranger so soon. Was he sat at home heartbroken, or was he seeing other people too?
Thoughts of Greg and her brothers had occupied much of her time since she'd started at the academy. She'd moved to California to start a life for herself but had found it hard to forget the people she'd left in Chicago. She still felt responsible for them and like she was weak and selfish for leaving.
She sighed. Thinking like this never helped. She found it was best to lace up her running shoes and head out the door.
By the time she'd returned from running a lap of Golden Gate Park, it was almost time to head out again. She showered quickly to allow herself longer to get dressed. Normally she didn't think twice about what she put on, but for today she seemed to have to hunt through her wardrobe to find something she liked. She finally settled on a tight pair of black jeans and a green top.
She applied some light makeup, trying not to dwell on the fact that this was more effort than she'd put into a date with Greg for years, then headed out.
Despite the events of last night, she was excited to see Patrick again. Even though he'd shown a clear disregard for her personal boundaries and that he was more than happy to cause trouble, she felt a strong pull towards him. She reasoned that after the way he'd behaved yesterday, he owed her a nice time today. The sparkle in his eye suggested that he was a man who knew how to have fun.
When she arrived at the park, he was stood holding a couple of hot drinks and a bag from a bakery. He met her with a broad smile.
"I wasn't sure you were going to come", he told her.
She laughed gently. "It's a miracle you make any money as a psychic", she teased.
He feigned a hurt expression making her laugh again.
"Come on", she told him, "let's go and find somewhere to sit down".
They wondered uphill through the park until they came to an unoccupied bench with a good view of the city.
"I got you a black coffee and I brought creamer and sugar", he told her.
"Covering all bases", she replied.
"I wouldn't like to presume", he said to her with a small twitch of his eyebrows.
She could see he was trying to make up for the previous night, but at the same time wasn't afraid to tease her about it.
"Let me guess", she replied, "you bought a selection of pastries to let me choose too?".
He opened the bag showing her six miniature treats.
She laughed.
"Perhaps you should be the one with the show", he told her.
The miniature bear claw she was already halfway through prevented her replying properly, so she settled for rolling her eyes and shaking her head.
"Tell me about your show?", she asked him once she'd finished her mouthful.
She watched him blush slightly, clearly nervous to talk about it again after the way she'd responded last night.
"I'm touring the state at the moment", he told her. "Spending a week or so in each of the major cities between now and the end of fall. Then I'm booked for Vegas over the holidays, and then who knows from there".
She smiled. He'd chosen to talk about logistics rather than exactly what it was that he did.
"Do you like life on the road?", she asked.
He shrugged, "it's all I've ever known".
"You must've grown up somewhere though?", she challenged.
He smiled into the distance rather than meeting her eyes.
"I grew up on the carnival circuit. I don't think we ever spent more than a few months anywhere when I was a kid, and even then we weren't exactly somewhere. We were wherever we could find a place to pitch up, which was normally 3 miles away from anywhere interesting".
She paused. His life was so far removed from anything she could conceive of.
"Did you go to school?", she asked.
"Sometimes", he replied, "but I didn't get on with it".
She laughed gently to herself. From what she was beginning to piece together about this man, that detail made sense.
"Is this why you became a psychic?", she asked more confidently.
He shrugged. "Meh. Although my dad wasn't bothered in me getting a high-school education", he told her, "he was interested in teaching me how to make money for him".
"He taught me how to read people, to exploit their vulnerabilities. I was good at it, and by the time I was 10, I had my own show "Patrick Jane, boy wonder!". It used to rake in cash as no one believes a child is trying to fleece them".
"He sounds like an interesting parent", Lisbon commented.
"Yeah, we haven't stayed in touch", he replied cynically.
"You don't ever think of doing something else?", she asked, "leaving all that behind?".
"What else would I do?", he challenged, "I don't have a diploma or a degree. The skills I have all lean towards this sort of work. Better this than a thief of a conman, although I suppose you don't see me as any better than that".
He was testing her, so she paused, wanting to choose what she said next carefully.
"What I see is a man with a huge amount of potential", she told him. "The way you read me last night was uncanny. I think you could use those skills to help people. The police would really benefit from someone like you".
"I think I'm more likely to be in police custody than on the force", he teased her.
She forced a smile in lieu of response; disappointed by his lack of sincerity.
"I'd like to settle down though", he told her, turning suddenly to look directly at her. "I went for a walk along the sea-front whilst I was in Malibu last year. There are some houses that look out over the ocean. I'd like to make enough money that I could buy one and turn it into a home. Be able to start a family and give a kid the upbringing I never had. Take them to music lessons, spoil them with gifts".
"Sounds nice", she replied quietly.
As ever, she'd been thrown by his rapid swing in tone. He'd jumped from insincere to heartfelt, knocking her off her stride. She couldn't reconcile the flashy charlatan with the man who wanted a quiet life by the sea and a family. She reasoned that one of them must be a front, she just hoped it was the former.
"So then officer", he began, "what are you going to do with your future?".
"I hope one day it will be agent rather than officer", she told him. "I'll start off in SFPD, but I'd like to be CBI in a few years. Lead a team working homicide cases".
"If that's what you want to do, I'm certain you'll get there", he replied.
"And how do you know that?", she questioned. "Did the spirits tell you?".
He rolled his eyes at her.
"You're clever and determined", he told her. "If you want something, you'll work hard to get it".
She blushed first at his response, then second at the intensity of the look he gave her.
"And do you see yourself having a partner in crime prevention?", he asked her.
"I've not really thought about it", she replied vaguely, her thumb ghosting over the ring finger of her left hand. "Someday, hopefully I guess".
He nodded. "Well, when you do let someone into your life, they'll be lucky to have you".
She gave him an embarrassed smile.
"I'm sorry for grilling you before", she told him gently.
He laughed. "There's no need to apologise", he replied. "No one has bothered to ask in a long time".
She nodded in silence, unsure of what to say next.
Without saying anything, he reached across to grasp her wrist and look at her watch. She could feel her pulse jumping wildly with the contact. Keeping her wrist encircled with his fingers, he looked up at her and smiled sadly.
"I need to go soon", he told her, "I've got another show this evening".
She nodded. The sun was starting to set, painting the city landscape they overlooked with dusky shadows.
"I'd like to take you out tomorrow though", he told her excitedly, "we can go for dinner after my early-evening show. I know this great place downtown that you'll love. Live jazz, cloth napkins".
She laughed gently at his enthusiasm. When she first met him, she thought that he was a couple of years her senior, but at this current moment he reminded her of an excitable teenager: asking his first girlfriend out on a date.
"Sure", she replied, "where can I meet you?".
He grabbed a pen from his pocket and wrote an address on her hand that he still had in his grasp.
"This is the hotel I'm performing at. The show ends at 7:30, so if you come to my dressing room for then, we can go from there".
"Great", she smiled, "I'll see you tomorrow then".
"I'm looking forward to it already", he told her.
He squeezed her wrist tightly, then stood up to leave. She watched him descend the hill, the steepness of the slop forcing him into a slow jog that made his blonde curls bounce jubilantly.
She gently stroked the band of wrist he had been holding. She was looking forward to seeing him tomorrow too.